Page 90 of A Ghost’s Guide to Haunting a Witch

“No,” Augustine interjected, her voice more desperate than she intended. “It doesn’t sound crazy at all.”

“It should.” Theo reached down to brush a lock of hair from her eyes, his fingers lingering on her skin. “Everything about this should sound crazy. Everything about this is crazy. But not my feelings for you. They’re real. I swear it. They’re real.”

She nodded, because she believed him. Believed him with her whole heart.

“I saw us together again,” she told him, and she nuzzled into the palm Theo held so gently against her cheek. “You kissed me and held me.” Her voice softened on the words, not with embarrassment or uncertainty, but with happiness. Happiness at a memory returned. Happiness that he was back, and, for a time at least, entirely hers.

Theo let out a quiet, tentative breath, his forehead resting lightly against hers. “You’re my girlfriend,” he told her, like he was still testing the shape of it, like the words themselves might disappear if he didn’t hold onto them tightly enough. There was wonder in his voice. “It was you, all along.”

Augustine nodded, her hands curling gently into the fabric of his shirt. Until her expression shifted. “But someone . . . someone wanted us apart. They took our memories of each other.”

Theo shook his head almost immediately, like he refused the very premise of it. “They didn’t succeed,” he said, firm and certain, pulling back just enough to look at her properly. There was something steady in his gaze now, something unshakable. “How could they? Not even death kept us from one another.” Both hands now came up to cup her face, his thumb brushing lightly along her cheek, as if reassuring himself she was real. “I found you.”

“You found me,” Augustine agreed.

“I’ll always find you,” he went on, quieter now, but no less certain. “No matter what. No matter who. No matter when, or where. I’ll find you.”

Augustine’s vision blurred slightly as emotion swelled in her chest, too much and not enough all at once. She kissed him, her hands now knotting in his shirt as she pulled him closer, rising slightly onto her toes as if she couldn’t quite get close enough otherwise. Theo didn’t hesitate either. His arms tightened around her instantly, drawing her in like he’d been waiting for this exact moment, like everything else had only been leading here.

The kiss was warm, and real, and him, and Augustine let out a soft, almost relieved sound against his lips, something that felt like release after holding her breath for far too long. “You’re mine,” she murmured when she pulled back just enough to speak, her forehead still resting against his. “I don’t have to share you. Not even with some other version of me.”

Theo’s nose brushed lightly against hers. “No,” he said softly. “You really don’t.”

Her smile lingered for only a second before she kissed him again, and this time it deepened. It was slow at first, almost exploratory, like they were relearning something they’d somehow always known. Augustine couldn’t help herself though, and her fingers slipped up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. She felt his hands tighten at her waist, and the space between them disappeared entirely.

It wasn’t just a kiss of relief any more. It was now a kiss of want — pure and unadulterated want.

Theo pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her. “How far did we get?” he asked, his voice quieter, yet rougher at the edges. “That last time. In your memory. How far did we go?”

Augustine’s breath hitched, and a faint flush crept up her neck as she held his gaze, her fingers still resting lightly against his chest. “We . . . didn’t,” she admitted softly. “I mean, we did. We must have. We dated for months. But I didn’t see anything.” She let out a small, almost frustrated breath. “I was pulled away. Before anything could really happen.”

Theo seemed to adsorb that, nodding thoughtfully. Then, his thumb brushed slowly along her cheek again.

“Can we go upstairs now?” he asked.

The question wasn’t rushed or careless. It was quiet, and utterly intentional, and Augustine looked at him — really looked at him — and felt that same certainty settle in her chest again, steady and sure.

“Yes,” she said, just as gently. “Of course we can.”

A mix of warm confusion flickered across his face, like he still couldn’t quite believe this was real, that this was them, somehow, against everything.

“Do you think the magic will . . . let us?” he asked, and Augustine paused.

“I hope so.” Her fingers slipped into his, holding on a little tighter. “I mean, I’ve never dated a ghost before. Would it kill the mood right now to ask if you have a penis?”

Theo laughed. “Don’t worry. I have a full complement of body parts.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and he grinned.

“What? You think when this first happened all I did was chase pigeons in the park? No. I had a thorough investigation of myself, too.”

Augustine grinned back, and Theo bent down to kiss her. She closed her eyes, leaning into it. This wasn’t the same as before, it couldn’t be. Those moments, the memories she’d seen . . . they didn’t belong to her and this Theo. Not really. They belonged to the Theo and Augustine of the past.

The here and now felt deeper for it. Harder won. Like something tested and broken and chosen again. This time, though, nothing was going to pull them apart. Not whatever had tried to erase them. Not whatever had hidden this place. Not even the strange, uncertain rules that still seemed to cling to Theo, to his half-presence, this in-between state he existed in.

If there were barriers, Augustine decided she would break them down. If something awful and twisted was waiting on the other side of that door, well, then they would face it. Together.

One day, soon, she would have to give Theo up. Augustine knew that. Knew she would help him move on from this plane to the next. That was the right and only sensible option in an entirely nonsensical situation.