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“You care,” he said in wonder. “You missed me.”

“I did not.”

He gestured to the grimoire and witchy paraphernalia on the floor. “You missed me and you were trying to bring me back.”

She scoffed. “Ha! As if.”

Something within him swelled beyond comprehension, and he felt the overwhelming compulsion to gather Willow in his arms to steady the storm around her. It was then that he noticed her puffy eyes and the tears clinging to her lashes.

“Willow… have you been crying?”

“No!” she snapped, even as tears welled up anew. “I’m just pissed off.”

She doused out her candles with a swift wave and swished her hands in a spiral until the gemstones rose on their own, caught up in the tornado of her magic. Her arms swept in circles above her head, sending the objects to fly around the room, all while streams of tears tracked down her cheeks.

“How dare you take off for days, leaving me to wonder what happened to you?”

She sliced an arm to her right, sending gemstones to a small box. Not all of them found their way inside, a few rebounding across the shop.

“You lied when said you couldn’t leave. Was that flying backwards stint all for show?”

She flexed her fingers until they bunched into angry fists, obliterating the candles into a fine dust.

“Whoa, easy now,” Montgomery said, holding up his hands. “We can talk about this.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do. I absolutely do. Should I count the ways? Let’s see if I have enough fingers. One.” She flicked her index finger, and a metal tumbler tipped over on the bar. “You use my witchy broom to sweep the floor.” She ticked another finger up, this time causing a picture frame to wobble.

“Uh… Willow?”

“Two. You rearranged the travel books by color.”

Another finger. “Three. You’re just plain obnoxious.”

A book flew off the shelf. Montgomery sensed her anger rising by degrees, consequently stirring a torrent of anger magic.

She continued to tick her fingers one by one, and as the numbers rose, so did her distemper.

Every flick of her wrist, every wild wave of her arm sent something flying or tumbling to crashing down. With each step, each rise in her ire, her surroundings responded like bits of papers caught in a whirlwind.

Her face was completely flush now, and despite it all, Montgomery thought she was radiant.

Her voice grew hoarse, raw from crying and speaking in a kind of feral growl. “You’re insufferable,” she cried as she started counting fingers on her second hand. “Disruptive. Maddening…”

Then, fully committed, she put her whole body into it and screamed, “Infuriating!”

With that, the entire top shelf of her highest bookcase spilled the books onto the floor. The noise was akin to a roof caving in. Or maybe it was just amplified by the magic.

Willow huffed and stomped over to pick up the books, mumbling about having to open the shop soon.

“Here, let me help you,” Montgomery offered, but she snapped at him.

“I got this.”

She picked up a few books, attempting to replace them on the shelves, but it was too high for her. Even jumping up on her tippy toes didn’t help.