In another life, they wouldn't have had to stress about talking. The fear of discovery wouldn't have stemmed from scandal but from awkward conversations with their children. The furious nature of their coupling would have given way to something gentler, more loving. Visions of the life she said no to all those years ago swirled through her thoughts. Lying nude on her kitchen floor wasn't supposed to be all they ever had.

But, it was.

Maggie knew what it was to wait in silence for two years. She knew firsthand the pain of hoping for a letter, a visit, a sign that never came. They loved one another, it was true, but when was love enough to sustain? If it had been enough following graduation then they wouldn't have separated for this long. They would've had a family — Percy would've had a family.

Percy was already garnering an unhealthy amount of attention in his unmarried state. Witch Weekly featured him in every issue in 1890 thus far it seemed. To wait another two years to wed and have a family of his own (a family Maggie wouldn't even be able to give if history were to be trusted) was tremendously unfair to him. He deserved happiness and love. Not the heaps of baggage and grief Maggie carried.

She leaned up and kissed him softly before settling back against him. Victoria was likely going to descend upon them sooner than later now that the hinkypunk was gone. They couldn't linger more than they already had. Still, Maggie had no idea what to say. Breaking her own heart again — and his wasn't a viable option. Her earlier words were still true: she couldn't live through losing him twice.

"I don't know where to start." She admitted with a heavy sigh.