Hæra raised her head again, as if a puppeteer were moving her with strings made of hope. Her eyes went wide. “We would?”

“Good grief, yes.” Madeleine sounded incredulous, as if Hæra was supposed to have known this already. “I don’t want to fly back and forth, and see you only every few months, for the rest of my life.”

There the words were. Madeleine had released them into the wild, and there was no taking them back. The intent look on her face suggested she knew it too.

“So how long would we be distant?” Hæra asked hoarsely. “You mentioned multiple summers. Two years? Three? Or—or ten, or⁠—?”

Madeleine shuddered. “Lord, not ten. I couldn’t stand to live away from you for so long. I’m not getting any younger, and…” She trailed off and winced.

“And neither am I,” Hæra finished. “There’s less time.”

“You probably still have more than I do. I spent so much of my life hiding from myself. Then you came along, on the beach that night, and you changed everything. You changed me.”

Madeleine reached across the table, palm up. Hæra seized her hand without thinking twice. It was warm, firm, and slightly damp. Madeleine must have been nervous about how this would go.

“I think I made you more yourself,” she said. After all, Madeleine was no more or less courageous, resolute, and stubborn than she’d been six years ago. She was just trying to be happier in her own skin. So was Hæra. “You did the same for me.”

A look of wonder crossed Madeleine’s face. “If that’s true—oh, sweetheart, what a gift. What an amazing thing.”

Hæra gasped. She and Madeleine had never used endearments before. Was that allowed now? If so, Hæra needed to choose a suitable one for Madeleine. People in romantic relationships did that. Humans did that. She’d lost so much, but right now the cottage was crowded with things she’d also gained, from words to wisdom.

“No more than two years,” she said. Though even that seemed like an eternity. “That’s long enough for us to figure out everything about ourselves, isn’t it?”

A soft laugh escaped Madeleine. “It looks like some things about you will never change. That’s weirdly comforting.”

“Well?”

“Yes.” Madeleine squeezed her hand. “Two years. And then we’ll close the distance.”

“You’ll come home to me.” A disconcerting thought occurred to her. “Or would I move to America?”

She couldn’t imagine doing that, at least not now. But if Madeleine wanted it—if it was the only way they could be together all the time—then she’d manage. Anything was possible as long as they were together.

“I want us to want the same thing,” Madeleine said gently. “We don’t have to figure that out tonight.”