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Aster dropped another kiss to the top of her head, muffled by her hair. “Only when you’re ready, Mols. I’d love nothing more.”

“What’s that saying about practice being the best part?” she asked, shifting to face him. Book abandoned, she hooked her arms around his neck, demanding a kiss.

Aster hummed against her lips. “Good to be prepared.”

He kissed her briefly before tilting them, laying her back against the sofa. Molly couldn’t help her giggle as he sank onto her, kissing along her jaw.

“What? Here?” she asked, torn between more laughter and jumping straight to the part where she tore his clothes off.

“Who knows if Waters furnished the bedroom. This might be our best option.”

Molly laughed again, feeling easy, forgetting the things she’d forgotten, and thinking only of the magic they might make together.

Before

“Oh my God,” Molly breathed, nearly dropping her sandwich into her lap.

She hadn’t seen Aster Bishop in over a year, not since graduation when she’d said goodbye to Laburnum with a mix of gratitude and relief and never looked back. She’d known they were headed to the same university, but with a significantly larger student population, she’d never expected to see his shocking blond hair or persistently scowling face ever again.

Sitting on her blanket in the quad, she watched, mouth agape, as he followed the footpath from one end to the other.

He hadn’t noticed her.

From a position of clandestine observation, inspecting him was merely a reflex. Molly couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about him was different.

Was it the length of his gait, less swagger, more subtle surety? The softening angle of his chin, not quite as pointed as it had been in high school? Or maybe it was his loose posture as he chatted with the person walking beside him?

She’d long put the Bishop issue behind her, glad to be free of the circumstances that had thrown her into his path. Even realizing he was probably having a hard time with something at Laburnum didn’t excuse him giving her a hard time in return. Nor did it excuse all the ways she’d hit back, the ways she’d sometimes hit first. She was glad to be free of it.

Yet, she couldn’t help her lingering gaze as his silhouette eventually faded into the distance, disappearing behind a building.

She pulled out her phone, marveling at the uncanniness of seeing him again.

You’ll never guess who just walked by me, she typed into her group chat with Roy, Simon, and Alannah.

It felt like closure, in a way, having him pass by so unremarkably.

Maybe, with any luck, it meant she was finally done dealing with Aster Bishop. At least, a girl could hope.

Epilogue

Flora Bishop

One Year Later

“It’s less progress than we were hoping for, but you’ve had zero regression in the last year, and that’s something to celebrate.”

Molly nodded to confirm she understood, glancing at the time on the clock. She had a to-do list several miles long and not enough time in the day to do it. She liked Dr. Macmillan, she did, but Molly was getting to a point where she wouldn’t mind if they never saw each other again. She was tired of brain scans and too-bright fluorescent lights.

Moving forward had been liberating. The urgency she’d once felt about the memories lost inside her head felt much less pressing than the life she was living in the present. There were only a few loose ends left to tidy in this tumultuous period of her life, Molly’s ever-present neurology appointments being the biggest of them.

And while this particular meeting came with the same cautious hope that no bad news could always mean good news in the future, it also came with a surprise Molly hadn’t been prepared for.

As such, she had a lot of things she needed to get done and she really needed to get home.

She thanked her doctor, checked out, and stepped outside into a dusting of fresh, sparkling snow. She leaned against her car door as she answered her phone.

Aster’s greeting was slightly harried. “I’m not supposed to be getting the groceries, am I?”