Margaret Thornbury's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

The fae was gone. The house was hers. But so was the supper Theo owed her, and the property fight that had brought him to her door still sat between them, cold as a bill. Margaret set two plates on the table. Her dog watched Theo from the doorway. It had barked once when he came in, then sat and stared. "About the deed," Theo said. He crossed his arms. "Forged papers or not, our families still both claim this house. That's real. That doesn't burn away." Margaret set down the serving spoon. "I know." She had spent two marriages keeping quiet at this table. She did not want to spend a third night doing it. "So let's not eat like enemies. Sit. Tell me what you actually want." He sat. He ate three bites without speaking. Then, flat and tired, he said, "I want to stop carrying folders. I'm an accountant. I count other people's money all day. I came here ready to hate you." "And now?" "Now your dog is drooling on my shoe." Margaret laughed before she could stop herself. It surprised them both. The dog thumped its tail and trotted to its feeding stand, nosing the empty bowl. "He's hungry," she said. "He decides fast. He never likes the men who come to that door." She filled the bowl. "He hasn't growled at you once." Theo looked at the dog, then at her. His arms uncrossed. "Maybe he can count too." That was a joke. He didn't smile, but it was a joke. Margaret felt the old urge rise — to fold up, agree, ask what he wanted for dinner tomorrow and lose herself again. She pushed it down. She stayed in the moment on purpose. "I have a proposal," she said. "Split the deed. Both names. Neither family loses. We stop fighting over walls and share them." Theo went still. "That's not how disputes end." "It's how this one ends. If you're brave enough." She met his eyes. "Are you?" He studied her a long moment. Then he stood, walked to the counter, and found a pen among her papers. He wrote his name under hers on the deed. He slid it across the table. "Partners," he said. "Not enemies." Margaret looked at the two names, close together, real ink this time. The dispute that had defined them was over. She had won him over herself — no fae, no bargain, just her own words at her own table. But partners was not page 287. Theo shook her hand, firm and plain, and reached for his coat. No one spun her. No one twirled her. He said good night and stepped out into the dark. Margaret stood alone in her kitchen with a signed deed and a fed dog. She had a partner now. She still wanted a lover. Those were not the same thing, and she knew it.