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“And you want to finish inside me?”

This he did not respond to. He kissed her neck again. “I should go. Lou will be expecting me soon.”

Her feelings were bubbling too close to the surface, and she wanted to cry. No, stay. Stay the night. Stay forever.

Theo seemed to sense her discomfort, and he propped himself up on one elbow. “Hey,” he said softly, and his gentleness was like a knife between her ribs. He was going to kill her with this unrelenting kindness. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Too late—far, far too late—Maggie realized there were, in fact, tears sliding down her face. “Nothing,” she sniffed, wiping her nose on her wrist. “I just don’t like when you leave.” Raw, raw, raw; as raw as one of the Barrows’ freshly plucked chickens hanging in the window of their shop. Theo reached over to roll Maggie onto her back and straddle her, caging her in his arms.

“Maggie,” he said, kissing her forehead, then resting his against it. “I don’t like it either. Oh!” He crawled back, kissing down her neck. “I was going to tell you before you seduced me with your wiles.”

“Hmm?” She was trying to cling to her pathetic sadness, but his lips ghosting over her skin was foiling her plans.

“Lou and I are moving.”

Maggie seized up. “What?”

“Bigger house,” he murmured, carefully drawing the soft skin of her stomach into his mouth. “Nothing picked out yet, of course, but with Emmy getting bigger” – a nibble to her ribcage – “I thought it would be time to upgrade.” He finished with another kiss to her forehead, sliding out of bed and jumping around to yank his trousers back on. “Lou is very excited. Well, excited by Lou standards. I think she wants to personally select the house by herself, but I had to remind her that it will be a joint decision.”

Maggie left the bed, mechanically pulling her clothes back on, tying the corset string loosely around her chest and picking up her discarded skirts. She glanced at herself in the mirror, flinching at the state of her hair (utterly disheveled) and the skin of her neck (red, love-bruised), and slipped the rest of her clothes on, quickly fastening the buttons.

“That will be good,” she said, knowing it was an empty answer. This news felt overwhelming to her (as did most things, she was coming to realize), and she didn’t particularly wish to have a drawn-out conversation about her feelings with Theo, not so soon after she had displayed them so openly already. She hoped that muted enthusiasm would be enough to satisfy him.

It wasn’t, of course. Theo could never be fooled.

“Sweetheart, what’s the matter? Did I upset you?” Theo wrapped his arms around her middle, ignoring her annoyed huff as she tried to re-pin her hair into some semblance of order.

“Of course not,” she said, jamming a pin into place. Her elbow came perilously close to colliding with his jaw, and he jerked his head down to avoid it. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“Because you seem upset.”

She was upset, of course, but she didn’t know why, and she wasn’t in the mood to examine it. “I’m not upset,” she said firmly. “Let me know when you find a place.” She forced a smile, sure it wasn’t convincing.

Theo withdrew his arms, his brow furrowed, and heaved a sigh. “All right. I’ll be on my way, then.” He kissed her forehead—he seemed especially fond of doing that today—and made to leave.

“Wait.” This dull weight in the pit of her stomach wouldn’t do. She’d decided to stop lying to Theo, and her body wouldn’t let her forget it. He turned, his expression patient, hands in his pockets. His rumpled dark curls fell over his raised eyebrows and into his eyes.

She really did love him.

“I’m sorry. I really am glad you’ll be getting a bigger space.” She thinned her mouth. “I suppose I’m a little jealous, having your own home.” It was true; she loved the boys, but she was growing weary of the sound of springs creaking in their rooms. Intruding on their domestic bliss grated at her in a way it never had before. Perhaps, she considered, because she felt safer than she had before.

Theo’s face remained mild. “Are you?”

“I think so, yes.”

Theo nodded to himself, looking around the room. “Can I ask you a question?”

No. “Of course.”

“Why are you so dead set against being happy?”

Indignation hit her, and she stood up straighter. “I beg your pardon?”

He shrugged. “You just don’t seem to … oh, I don’t know, expect much from your future, I think. Me, perhaps.”

“Why would I expect anything of you?”

Theo didn’t answer; he just looked sad.