Page 100 of The Pumpkin Bride

She bounced on her toes. That was exactly what she wanted to know.

Bram snapped his gaze to her. “Marigold.”

She fluttered her eyelashes. “Bram?”

“Absolutely not.”

She sat and rested her chin on her latticed fingers. “Absolutely not what?”

“Don’t go to the autumn sprite.”

“Why would I do a thing like that?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because you’re headstrong.”

“You’re lucky for it. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

With narrowed eyes, he searched her face. “Please, don’t risk our happiness for so little reward. We’re content, are we not? I know I am. But if you’re not, tell me.”

She reared back. “Why would you ask me that?”

He shoved back from the table. “Nothing. Forget it.”

With a great clatter, he tossed his dishes into the sink.

“Don’t avoid me, Bram.” She placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Bringing people here, trying to break the curse. I get that if you had the choice between this—” he swept his hand down his midsection “—and the gregarious handsome man I was in Thornwick, you’d choose him every time. But it’s not worth it, Marigold. It’s not worth you to try to change me back.”

“Oh, Bram. Is that what you think this is? That I want you back the way you were?”

“Yes.” He crossed his arms as he looked down at her. “Do you not?”

Her heart folded on itself. Did he really have such a low opinion of her?

“I fell in love with you, Bram. No matter what you look like, what form you take. I desire a chat with the autumn sprite to free you from Grimroot Farm.”

“Because you grow bored of it.”

“Please stop twisting my words. I want you to have the choice to stay or leave. If you can’t choose, this is a prison. A lovely, rustic prison, but a prison nonetheless.”

He tilted his head. “I like it here.”

“So do I,” she said. “But was Rapunzel content to stay in her tower? Or Persephone in the underworld? You’ve done an admirable job keeping yourself occupied while you’ve been here, but you deserve the freedom to come and go as you please. Seek adventures, quests, and the like.”

His eyes dimmed. “I’m not the man you remember.”

“Yes, you are. Just as I’m the same woman.”

He gripped her shoulders. “No, you’re not. Neither of us is the same. Once upon a time, I dreamed of a bigger life. I’d tasted it, and yes, at first, I felt trapped here. But as the seasons changed, I fell in love with Grimroot Farm. If I, or this place, are not your choices, I’ll understand. But please, what I have here—what we could have here—is good without trying to lift the curse. Do not let perfect be the enemy of good.”

He melted away from her, then grabbed his cloak from the peg beside the door. “I’ll return.”

“When?” she asked.

“Later.” After a beat, he closed the door.

His footsteps on the stairs rattled the house. As he walked the path, his figure grew smaller until you’d never guess he was an orc. How had she fumbled that so badly? Did he truly not believe that she loved him in all his forms? Her goal was justice, not aesthetics.