She half smiled, half winced, and set her mug down. “I’ve run this place since I came to America, dear,” she said gently. “And I’m ready for a new adventure.”

Rory opened his mouth, then closed it.

“I want to marry Patrick and move to Boston with him. He has a daughter there, and his first grandchild on the way. We might even travel a bit; I’ve barely seen any of my new country. But of course, it’s not just about me.”

Not just about her? What did she—oh. Rory swallowed and forced himself to straighten up and find a casual tone of voice. “You’re not worried about me, are you?”

“You’re my nephew,” she said. “Of course I’m worried about you.”

Her nephew. He waved his hand, like this was fine, his throat wasn’t closing. He was not going to be the thing that stood between Mrs. Brodigan and happiness. Not in a million years was he gonna tie her down. “You don’t gotta worry. Let’s close the shop. You get married and run off into the sunset with Mr. McIntyre.”

She didn’t look convinced. “And what are you going to do if you’re not working here?”

He scoffed. “I got about a million things I can do,” he lied. “I got magic, Mrs. B. I’ll be fine.”

“And you have Arthur,” she said, looking a little mollified as she picked her tea up again. “And you have Miss Robbins, and Mr. Zhang, and the Ivanovs.”

“’Course I do,” he lied again. Because he didn’t, not for this. They couldn’t take care of him when they all had families they needed to take care of, and he loved Mrs. B like a real aunt, but she was gonna have a real family of her own again.

He forced a smile. “I got so many options. You don’t have to worry about me at all. Marry your fella. I’m so happy for you.” The last part was the truth, and he didn’t have to force his smile as he said it.

She smiled back, tentative but hopeful. “You are?”

“So happy.” He set his tea down and took her hand. “Mr. McIntyre’s the luckiest man in the world, getting you,” he said tightly. “You’re the best family anyone could ever have.”

“Oh, lovey, stop, you’re going to make me cry,” she said, her voice thicker, and squeezed his hand. “This isn’t a forever goodbye. We’ll see each other—we’ll keep in touch—”

“’Course we will.” Rory let her hand go. Would they? Did anyone really keep in touch when they found a new family?