Page 136 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

She blinked. “Leave?”

“Yeah.” A small shrug. “Disappear. You and your sisters managed it once already, right? New names, new place, new start. We could make our own version of that. We know we can’t be together as we are. My family would find yours and snuff them out in a moment.” He looked pained. “I did some research on witch hunters during my recovery. It didn’t make for pleasant reading. The things the Manford family have done, my father, my cousins . . .”

Augustine winced as Celestine, Clem and Maddy crossed her mind.

“I won’t let that happen,” Theo reassured her. “You won’t let that happen. So, we go. We’ll disappear. Make it work.”

Augustine met his gaze. “You’re serious about this.”

“Completely.”

“But Theo, your life . . . your job—”

“Isn’t worth anything if I’m not actually living it,” he told her. “And apparently, I’ve already proven I’m quite capable of falling in love with you under impossible circumstances. Twice.” A faint, crooked smile. “Feels like I should try for a third time.”

Her throat tightened. “You’d give all that up?”

“For you? Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate. “Would you?”

Augustine opened her mouth, before she stopped just as quickly. Because the honest answer should have been simple.

Yes. Of course yes.

Except . . . leaving had never really been the difficult part for her family. They’d left cities, names and entire lives behind. No, the difficult part was Augustine herself, and her habit of staying. Her habit of being useful, of holding everything together until her hands shook with the effort of it all. Of not being able to let go.

She looked around the shop, gazing at the shelves she'd built and the wallpaper she'd hung. Taking in the life she'd stitched together out of obligation and survival and not nearly enough sleep.

She thought about Celestine, and the responsibility her older sister would face if she left. About Clem, who’d set herself an impossible task. Mostly though, her thoughts were on Maddy. Chaotic, vibrant Maddy. Maddy, who was capable of such great love, but also capable of making such heavy mistakes. As she thought about her family, Augustine felt something inside her twist. She’d always felt an impossible, stubborn certainty that if she loosened her grip on any of them, even just for a second, something terrible might happen.

But they were all grown now. Celestine was okay. Maddy was okay. And Clem . . . well, Clem had chosen her own path, and there was nothing Augustine could do to stop her. They didn’t need her in the way they once had.

She looked back to Theo, who was waiting quietly. He wasn’t rushing her. Just waiting patiently, in that way he did.

Suddenly, Augustine understood something that felt almost embarrassingly obvious.

Nobody was asking her to save the world. Her sisters weren’t asking her to save their family. Not this time.

Instead, she was being asked to save herself. To leave with this man, who’d she twice lost. This man, who she’d found thrice. This man, who always — always — found her back.

“I can leave,” she said quietly, almost to herself at first. She smiled. “I will leave. For you, I’ll go,” she went on, her voice gaining strength. “I don’t have to stay here out of guilt. Or fear. Or obligation.” Her eyes flicked around the shop one last time. “I built this life because I thought I had to. Because I thought I owed something.” Her gaze returned to him. “But I don’t,” she said. “I never did.”

Theo didn’t speak. He just watched her, like he knew better than to interrupt this moment.

“I can love you,” she said, quieter now. “Properly. Not in fragments, or dreams, or borrowed time. Not in some half-life where we’re constantly trying to protect each other by letting go.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she didn’t stop. “I can have this,” she said. “I can have you. I can have . . . a life. A real one. A happy one. No. We can have that life. Together.”

“Are you certain?” he asked her, and there was still a note of uncertainty in his voice.

She leaned forward and kissed him in response, and her lips against his were neither tentative nor uncertain. No. Augustine kissed Theo like her decision had already been made. She leaned into him without hesitation, her hands finding him, holding on — not out of fear this time, but out of choice. When they finally broke apart, her forehead rested briefly against his, her breath unsteady but her shoulders lighter than they’d felt in years.

“I’ve helped so many people move on,” she told him. “My sisters. Ghosts. Lost things. People stuck between where they were and where they’re supposed to be.” A small pause. “But I’ve never helped myself.”

Theo’s hand tightened gently at her waist, and Augustine pulled back just enough to look at him, something new in her expression now: resolve.

“Today,” she said quietly, “I’m choosing myself. Which is honestly alarming.”

Theo laughed softly, and Augustine smiled shakily back at him.

“But I’m also choosing you, too,” she added.