“I hated myself after I left you like I did. That’s why I stayed away. I knew you needed me, but it was too hard, too much. I couldn’t look myself in the mirror, and anger was easier than confronting that.”

Addison’s eyes stung. Her voice caught in her throat. “I never stopped loving you. I tried so hard to move on…”

River rested his forehead against hers. They sat like that for a few seconds in silence until his eyes met hers, his pupils dark and deep. His aura exploded in ambrosia, like a field blooming all at once.

And then, he kissed her.

Her mouth came alive beneath his. She slid a hand around the back of his neck, fingers in his hair.

“We’ve both said a lot of horrible things to each other,” he whispered against her lips. “I’m sorry, Addison.”

“I’m sorry for taking more than you were willing to give. For using my magic on you when it wasn’t welcome.” She brushed his hair back gently.

River kissed her again. “Your magic is beautiful,” he whispered. “Just look.” He nodded his head to the garden around them, as if Addison was the one who’d coaxed the petals from their buds, before he started crying all over again.

Addison brushed the pads of her thumbs across his cheeks.

“Sorry,” he said, voice heavy. “The grief…”

“It comes in waves,” Addison said. “It will, for a long time.”

He nodded slowly.

“I can make you some tea to help,” she offered.

He smiled sadly. “I’d like that.”

Addison got to her feet and offered him a hand up until they both stood in the circle of plants.

“Do you think they’ll let us out?” he asked, fingers entwined with hers.

Addison took a step forward, and the sunflower stalks parted. Maybe, she thought, the garden wasn’t in as much trouble as she’d feared.

After she led River back to the guesthouse and prepared a cup of tea with chamomile, lavender, and Saint-John’s-wort, they settled in on her patchwork couch. River sipped slowly as he took in the space. The nearby floor lamp cast the room in a soft yellow light. The ground floor included a great room that was the kitchen, living room, and eating area all in one. The loft at the back held her bedroom. It had been her mother’s, once, before Irene moved back into the main house so Maura could help her raise Addison. After high school graduation, Addison had made it her own.

“You haven’t changed it much,” River said.

Addison shrugged. “I spend most of my time outside.” She held her mug tighter. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you in here again.”

River watched her over the rim of his cup. “I’d like to think we’d have forgiven each other eventually.”