But he shakes his head. “Do not apologize. This is for the best.” He takes my hands in his. “If I were to find a woman with your kind heart and vast intelligence in the whole of England, then I would be a very lucky man indeed.”
You will, my heart says. Instead, I say, “I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone as brazenly open as you.”
“Delaney.” There’s a knowing edge in the way he says this. “I have faith you’ll come to find the person who feels like home in your heart.”
I hold on to this depiction of love, letting it fill all my hollow, empty spaces.
Emotion leaks from my next words. “Is there anything you want to do in your final hours here?”
William glances around the cramped room, at the remaining clothing pile and then down at his student lanyard holding an ID that isn’t really him. He pulls his emerald cravat from the clean laundry and lets the material slide between his fingers. When he looks up at me, his expression holds pronounced acceptance.
“Continued conversation with you,” he muses, “and perhaps a cup of tea.”
31
Time passes too quickly.
The evening plays back in fragments. A final stroll around the lake. Polite exchanges with students who stop to chat. Hands cupped around warm mugs of tea in the empty dining hall. The four of us absorbing each other’s silence in the Forgotten Lounge. Sumner had told Lionel about the consequences of William’s presence in this timeline and everything we stand to lose. I’m sure it weighs as heavy in their minds as it does in mine.
Lionel brings up lighter topics, though, asking William to recount his favorite memories. To my surprise, William removes my old phone from his pocket and shares candid pictures he’s captured. Stunning bits of nature on our hikes, sunsets on the lake, the dessert bar in the dining hall—which makes me laugh outright.
Andus.
Lionel’s bright-eyed excitement as he hands William his Switch. A shot of me, mid-laugh, donning his top hat in the Forgotten Lounge. Sumner scowling at him from across their shared room, a broken lamp in his hands. Another of Sumner gazing at me as I read from my dad’s journal in an armchair, an agonizingly tender look etched in his expression.
When my eyes lift to his, Sumner’s ears are tinged pink. Something stirs within me.
William flicks to another photo of our backs, the three of us trudging through a vibrant patch of leaves. “My days with you all were wondrous, indeed.”
None of us bring up what we have to do, though the strain of the monumental task whirs through my mind until we’re forced to return to our rooms for curfew. Fraught anticipation zips up my spine as the clock pushes forward. We’re doing the right thing. It’s why I allow a single molecule of hope to expand in my chest.
When it’s time, I sneak onto the grounds using the back exits, despite the growing discomfort in my stomach. Fourteen minutes to midnight. Winding a scarf around my neck, I increase my pace until I spot the three of them huddled by the fountain. The soothing splash of water is the only sound that rings through the silent evening.
William is the spitting image of how I found him, dressed in his attire, dashing as ever. A heavy layer of despair falls over me. He’s been such a shining presence. It’s going to feel so different without him here.
Sumner checks his watch. “We were thinking,” he begins. “William should be within the vortex’s boundary when he reverses his wish.”
I nod. “Right.”
“We’ve already said our goodbyes,” Lionel explains, glancing between us. “We’ll give you a minute.”
As they step away, William comes forward and extends a gloved hand in my direction. “Thank you, Delaney,” he says. “For accepting me. For believing in me.”
I wrap my arms around him, pressing my cheek against his lapel. I’m all out of tears, left with only a hollow ache in the pit of my heart. “You’re going to do great things.”
“As will you.”
When we release each other, there’s a quiet smile in his eyes. He offers Lionel and Sumner final handshakes, tipping his hat in polite regard as his gaze drifts upward. Not a single cloud hangs overhead, only a clear smattering of stars and sky. A sense of pure wonder washes over him. It’s a look I recognize from our first hike to the summit.That’s how I want to see the world, I think.With open vulnerability.
And with one final meaningful gaze my way, he attempts a smile, then heads toward the wooded area behind Segner House.
It’s a loss, but it feels different. My chest doesn’t crack wide open. There’s no hurt or anguish or devastation, but instead a balm of acceptance.
Sumner moves beside me. “Here.” He places a penny in my palm. “You can do this.”
I look up at him. “What about you?”
“Carmichael,” he says, and instead of a familiar teasing lilt in his tone, there’s a hint of melancholy, “I’m not the one trying to reverse my wish.”
