Chapter Forty-Seven
Theo was breathing slightly unevenly, like he’d run to catch up with her.
“I—” he started, then stopped. His eyes flickered down to his hands where they still rested on her waist, and his expression shifted to one of pure mortification. “Sorry,” he blurted, releasing her immediately and taking a step back.
Augustine forgot how to breathe. It was him.
Not just a version of him, or a memory made real, but him.
Her heart began hammering wildly in her chest, and her stomach turned over.
Desperately, she drank him in, taking in the face she knew so well and the lips she once kissed.
Losing herself in those blue eyes that were fixed so uncertainly on hers.
He looked thinner than she remembered, the jumper he was wearing loose around his waist.
Theo exhaled sharply, like he was trying to reset himself. “You nearly fell,” he said, a little too quickly, gesturing vaguely at the pavement.
“Yes,” she agreed absently, still stunned. “Thank you.”
That seemed to fluster him further. His hand came up briefly, then dropped again, like he didn’t know what to do with it.
“Right,” he said. “Okay. Good. I mean — not good. Just . . . I’m glad you didn’t.
” There was a pause, and he cleared his throat.
“Look, this is going to sound crazy,” he carried on, then immediately winced at himself.
“But I promise you, I’m not— I mean, I am saying something crazy, but I’m not crazy myself, and—”
Something in Augustine’s expression made him trail off.
“What is it?” he asked, suddenly self-conscious. Augustine swallowed slightly, then shook her head.
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “It’s just — you’re okay?”
Theo hesitated, like the question meant more than it should. Then he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m okay.”
They stood there for a heartbeat longer. Not moving or speaking, just feeling the space between them shift in a way neither of them seemed to understand.
Theo broke it first. “Look,” he said again, and he rubbed a hand briefly at the back of his neck. “This is going to sound crazy.”
Augustine kept her expression carefully neutral. “Okay,” she said slowly. “Crazy. I’m listening.”
Theo gave a nervous laugh, then ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know where to start. It’s going to sound mad, which isn’t exactly a brilliant first impression, I know.”
“Okay.” She swallowed. “Go on.” She tried not to let either heartbreak or disappointment show in her face or voice.
Theo took a deep breath. “You see, the thing is . . . I think I might know you.”
“I’m sorry?” Augustine said, because that was the only safe response, the only one that didn’t immediately unravel everything. Don’t hope, she ordered herself. Don’t get excited. All the same, a delicate bud of optimism tried to grow within her, one she’d tried to quell these last twelve months.
”I think I know you.” Theo took a deep breath. “Look, I was in a coma. For quite a while actually.”
Augustine forced herself not to react, and Theo carried on.
“I had a stroke,” he said, like he felt the need to justify it. “Completely out of the blue. I was on my way to work, and I collapsed. Anyway . . .” He gestured vaguely, searching for the words. “While I was unconscious, I had all these . . . well, dreams.”
Augustine’s fingers curled slightly at her sides. “Dreams?”
“Dreams. Just not normal ones,” he explained. “They weren’t random, or disjointed. They were pretty consistent, in fact. Like a story I kept dropping back into every few hours.” He paused, then met her gaze again. “You were in them. A lot,” he added, softer now.
“In your dreams? Me?”
“Yeah. You. Which is odd, I know, considering I don’t even know you.”
I don’t even know you. Augustine felt those words settle somewhere deep in her chest. There it was. The thing she’d been bracing for without letting herself name it. He’s forgotten me.
Of course he had. Why wouldn’t he? Whatever they’d been — whatever they’d had — had existed only in that strange, in-between place, half magic and half miracle.
Not something the real world was built to hold on to.
Still, her mind scrambled anyway, traitorously hopeful.
Maybe some part of him had held on. Maybe something had lasted.
But no.
He doesn’t know who I am.
Her throat tightened slightly, because she understood what had happened.
His mind had simply done what minds under stress do, and reached for fragments, impressions and borrowed shapes.
That mind, unwell and comatose, built a story out of echoes.
He didn’t remember her, he just remembered those fragments of her, from before the spell.
It was a version of her, at least. But it wasn’t her.
Not really, or in any way that mattered.
Augustine forced her expression to stay steady, even as something small and fragile within her broke into a million pieces.
“So, you dreamed about me,” she said slowly, trying not to let hurt show on her face. “But you don’t know me.”
“Apparently not.” Theo’s voice sounded flat, dejected even.
Augustine leaned against the doorway. “Can I ask then, how did you even know where to find me, if you don’t know me?”
Theo swallowed. “The dreams were quite vivid, but when I woke up, my mind wasn’t capable of much more than recovery.
For a long time, I was muddled. It was hard to grasp what was reality and what wasn’t.
I had physiotherapy. A lot of physiotherapy.
When I finally went home, it was odd. I kept having flashes of places.
I’d be working out, and green wallpaper would appear in my head.
I’d be in Tesco, picking out a meal deal, and I’d see a wooden desk, with tarot cards laid on top.
I couldn’t work out if these were memories or my imagination.
” He sighed, his expression softening. “Your face kept on appearing, and I couldn’t work out why.
But the more I held on to the image of you, the more the memories seemed to solidify in my head. They got stronger. Much stronger.”
Theo shoved his hands into his pockets. “I remembered this one dream. From the coma. In that dream, I found a card in my pocket. A business card. Your business card.”
Augustine took a second to absorb that. “Right.”
He looked sheepish. “I still own that coat. When I realized I’d been wearing it in the dream, I checked the pockets. Your card was in there. And a key.”
Of course.
Augustine didn’t know whether to be awed or appalled. She had, apparently, managed to manifest Theo’s entire subconscious, dress him accurately, and send him straight back to her with built-in directions.
But Maddy, she thought, almost irritated. Maddy creates a flawless, reality-bending spell. Covers every emotional and magical variable.
And forgets to do a basic pocket check.
“I’ve had the card for a while,” Theo carried on. “I wasn’t sure what to do. Still wasn’t sure whether I was crazy or not. And then this afternoon, I figured, what the hell? Halloween felt like a night to be crazy. It felt like the night to see you again. Even if you didn’t know who I was.”
He smiled, but even as he did, Augustine saw him shiver.
There was a chill in the air, but Augustine hardly noticed.
Her skin felt hot and her cheeks were flushed, her body warmed by both shock and something still dangerously close to hope.
Still, she saw how Theo was shaking slightly, and she frowned.
“Are you cold?”
He gave a small, dismissive nod. “Kind of. I’ve been waiting out here for a while. I got here this evening and you weren’t in. I wasn’t sure what to do so I figured I’d just wait.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to see you.” He looked sheepish. “I am cold, though. I lost muscle mass while in the coma. It happens. I’m trying to build it back, but it takes time.”
Her heart constricted with pain for him. “Um, you should come inside. Let me just, uh—” she fumbled with her keys — “open the door.”
“No, that’s okay—”
“Theo,” she said firmly. “Just come inside.”
He didn’t move. In fact, he went still and silent, and Augustine turned back to him, only to find his gaze trained firmly on her face.
“Augustine.” His voice was low. “How do you know my name?”
She froze, her keys still clutched in her hand. “Well, um—”
Theo exhaled suddenly. “They weren’t just dreams, were they?”
For a heartbeat, Augustine couldn’t move. Before she could answer — before she could ruin it or confirm it or unravel everything between them — she turned back to the door, forcing her key into the lock.
“Theo,” she said simply. “Just come inside.”
* * *
She flicked on the lights and dropped her bag by the door, gesturing for Theo to follow her into The Priestess Reversed. He hesitated by the door though, and she looked at him over her shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
“No. No, not really,” Theo replied, his gaze moving slowly around the shop, like he was matching reality to something already mapped in his head. “It’s so . . .” He trailed off, stepping further inside. “It’s so real. Just like I remember it.”
His fingers brushed lightly along the edge of a shelf as he passed, lingering for just a second too long. His eyes flicked to the counter and then the back wall. He took in the array of candles across every surface. His eyes were everywhere, all at once.
Augustine didn’t interrupt. She couldn’t. She knew he needed this moment. Needed this time.
Theo moved deeper into the shop, slower now, quieter, until his gaze caught on something at the back.
The sofa.
The one on which they’d made love.
Recognition flickered across his face, followed by a faint flush dusting his cheeks, before he turned again, now looking at the door.
The one that led upstairs.