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CHAPTER 29

C hapter 29

When the others departed—Harry collecting his supernatural consultant sons, Oliver carefully shepherding pregnant Alice to their car, everyone giving her space to process the evening’s monumental events—Tessa settled into her favorite chair beside the hearth with the boneless exhaustion of someone who’d just facilitated supernatural couples therapy and had her entire understanding of someone turned upside down.

Well, that’s definitely going in the memoir I’ll never write: “How I Helped Two Ghosts Find Closure and Discovered I’d Completely Misjudged the Man I’m Falling For.”

The Red Lion stood unusually silent around her, with only the measured ticking of the ancient clock and occasional murmurs of century-old timbers breaking the stillness. Even the building seemed to be catching its breath after the evening’s dramatics.

The warm glow from the fireplace and scattered lamps cast golden pools of light throughout the pub, illuminating suspended dust particles that drifted through the air like tiny dancers celebrating the successful conclusion of an eighty-year love story. The pub felt completely transformed—unburdened, lighter, as though something long-held had finally been released into the cosmos where it belonged.

No more cold spots. No more flying glassware. No more ghostly guilt trips about unfinished business.

Gone were the supernatural temperature fluctuations that had made the pub feel like a haunted refrigerator, replaced by the natural November coolness that invited thick sweaters and roaring fires but carried no otherworldly edge. Just normal, comfortable, blissfully non-supernatural autumn chill.

Sebastian had asked to remain—his expression hopeful and uncertain and absolutely nothing like the calculating businessman who’d called her two days ago—but Tessa had requested a moment alone. Too much had happened at once for her poor brain to process: Will’s peaceful departure, Sebastian’s complete reversal from strategic thinking to principled sacrifice, and the devastating realization that she’d been completely wrong about his character.

I thought he’d chosen his career over me. I thought he was too afraid to risk anything for love. And instead, he just threw away everything—his position, his company, probably his future—knowing he’d likely lose anyway.

Her emotions whirled like fallen leaves caught in a sudden gust, spinning too fast to examine individually. Guilt warred with amazement, relief battled with terror about what came next. She needed a moment to sort through the tornado of feelings before she could face Sebastian and whatever conversation was waiting for them.

How do you apologize for misjudging someone so completely? How do you process that the man you thought was choosing calculation over courage just proved he’d rather lose everything than compromise his principles?

“It’s over,” she whispered to the empty room, the words both statement and question hanging in the quiet space like a prayer.

No objects moved in response. No mysterious drafts disturbed the papers on nearby tables. No sudden temperature drops announced supernatural disapproval. Will Donovan, it seemed, had truly and finally moved on to whatever came next.

Mission accomplished. Ghost successfully counseled, relationship status: completely confused.

Tessa reclined in her chair, watching as the lamplight painted the room in amber hues that made everything look like a sepia photograph. Weariness swept over her—the kind of deep tiredness that came from emotional whiplash rather than physical exertion. The warmth from the fireplace wrapped around her like a blanket, and despite her intention to simply rest for a moment, her eyelids grew heavy.

Just a moment to process everything. Then I’ll deal with the Sebastian situation and figure out how to admit I was wrong about everything.

Her eyes drifted closed, and the pub shimmered and transformed around her like a movie dissolving into flashback.

Brilliant sunshine poured through windows uncovered by blackout curtains, warmer and brighter than the November evening outside. The wooden floors gleamed with fresh polish that caught the light like honey. Scents of lemon oil and hops filled the air—clean and welcoming and alive with possibility.

This isn’t November 2024 anymore.

Behind the bar stood a young man in crisp white shirtsleeves and suspenders, meticulously polishing a glass with the careful attention of someone who took pride in his work. He glanced up with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes—Will, but not the desperate, sorrowful presence she’d sensed for weeks. This was Will as he’d been in life: animated with vitality, radiating quiet joy and gentle humor.

He looks so young. So alive.

“Hello, Tessa,” he greeted, his voice carrying a gentle Scottish inflection that made her name sound like music.

Though she recognized this as a dream—had to be a dream, because the alternative was too strange even for her recent experience with supernatural events—everything felt remarkably tangible. The warmth of the sunlight, the scent of polish and beer, the sound of Will’s voice.

“You know me?” she asked, though the question felt unnecessary. Of course he knew her.

Will set aside his glass and approached with the easy confidence of someone in his own space, his own time. “I’ve known you since you found me,” he replied simply, as if ghostly surveillance was perfectly normal. “You and Sebastian.” His gaze drifted toward the entrance with a knowing smile that suggested he’d been observing more than just supernatural assistance. “You two remind me of someone.”

Oh. He’s been watching us fall in love. That’s not embarrassing at all.

A beautiful dark-haired woman wearing the heart-shaped locket waited by the doorway, her hand extended toward Will with infinite patience. Her features—recognizable from the staff photograph but now alive with warmth and profound love—radiated the kind of happiness that came from reunion with a long-lost beloved.

“Rebecca,” Tessa breathed, her heart swelling with recognition and joy.

The woman acknowledged her with a slight nod, her eyes bright with gratitude and something that looked suspiciously like maternal approval.

She approves of me. Of us. Of Sebastian and me. That shouldn’t matter, but somehow it does.

Will turned back to Tessa, his face filled with the kind of gratitude that transcended words. “Thank you,” he said, simple words carrying the weight of eight decades of waiting. “For remembering. For caring enough to help us find each other again.”

He briefly rested his palm on her shoulder—a gesture of appreciation that felt as real as anything she’d ever experienced, warm and solid and strangely comforting. The pub seemed to exist in two realities simultaneously—past and present occupying the same space for one breathless, impossible moment.

This is what peace looks like. This is what love looks like when it finally finds its way home.

At the threshold, Will and Rebecca paused, their silhouettes outlined by light so brilliant and warm it almost hurt to witness. They looked back once more, fingers intertwined, faces peaceful and complete and ready for whatever came next.

They found each other. After everything, they found each other.

Then they stepped together into the brilliant glow beyond, and Tessa understood with perfect clarity that they were going somewhere beautiful, somewhere they could be together as they’d always meant to be.

“Goodbye,” she whispered, though they had already vanished into light that seemed to linger even after they were gone.

The dream faded with remarkable gentleness, like a song ending on a perfect note. When Tessa opened her eyes, she discovered tears on her cheeks despite the smile that stretched across her face. She reached for her shoulder, which still held the lingering warmth of Will’s farewell touch.

It was real. Maybe not in the way normal people define real, but real in every way that matters.

Outside, full darkness had settled over London, early stars visible through the pub’s windows like scattered diamonds. Hours must have passed while she slept, transforming the pub into a cozy haven of firelight and shadows. The Red Lion remained physically unchanged, yet fundamentally different—lighter, happier, free of the weight it had carried for so long.

She understood with complete certainty that Will had found his peace. Their efforts—uncovering the letter, performing the ceremony, creating connections across time—had fulfilled his deepest wish: to be remembered, to have his love acknowledged, to know that his story mattered.

And in helping Will reconnect with Rebecca, I learned something about love too. About how wrong you can be about someone when fear clouds your judgment.

The door opened with the soft chime of the bell that had become the soundtrack to her heart skipping beats. Sebastian entered, his tall figure outlined by the streetlight behind him, looking uncertain and vulnerable and absolutely nothing like the cold businessman she’d accused him of being.

He hesitated at the threshold, as if unsure of his welcome. “I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said, his voice carrying the careful tone of someone afraid of overstepping. “I waited outside for a while, but I needed to make sure you were all right.”

He came back. Of course he came back. Even after I basically called him a coward who chose safety over love.

Tessa stood, her heart so full of conflicting emotions it felt like it might burst from her chest. “I saw them,” she told him simply, needing to start with something safe before she could address the elephant in the room. “Will and Rebecca. Together.”

Sebastian’s expression shifted from concern to wonder, and he didn’t question her experience or suggest logical explanations for supernatural visions. He simply believed her. “Tell me,” he requested, closing the door against the November darkness and stepping into the warm circle of firelight.

He believes me. No skepticism, no corporate logic, just acceptance.

They settled near the hearth, firelight playing across their features and casting dancing shadows on the walls. Tessa described her vision—the sunlit pub, Will at the counter looking young and alive, Rebecca waiting with infinite patience, the farewell touch that seemed to linger even now. Sebastian listened intently, the flames reflected in his eyes, his complete attention focused on her words.

“Do you believe it was really them?” he asked when she finished, his voice soft with something that might have been awe.

“Does it matter?” Tessa replied, then took a breath and plunged into the conversation she needed to have. “Sebastian, about our phone call the other night?—“

“You don’t need to explain,” he said quietly, his gaze fixed on the fire. “I understand why you were angry. I was making the calculated choice, choosing strategy over principle. You were right to be disappointed in me.”

He’s making this too easy. I need to actually apologize.

“No, I wasn’t.” The words came out more forcefully than she’d intended. “I mean, I was right to be disappointed, but I was wrong about what happened next. I thought you’d follow through with that choice. I thought you’d prioritize your career over everything else.”

Sebastian’s eyes met hers, something vulnerable flickering in their depths. “I planned to. Right up until tonight, I was going to make the strategic decision. Comply with Victor’s demands, keep my position, try to fight him later.”

“But you didn’t.” Tessa leaned forward, needing him to understand. “You chose to do what was right even knowing it would cost you everything. Even knowing Victor would probably win anyway.”

“I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try,” Sebastian said simply. “Somewhere between discovering Will’s story and falling in love with you, I realized that some things matter more than winning. Some things matter more than survival.”

There it is again. That word. Love.

“About that,” Tessa said, her voice softer now. “When you said you were falling in love with me during that phone call?—“

“I meant it.” Sebastian’s voice was rough with emotion. “I know the timing was terrible, saying it while I was explaining why I was going to hurt you. But I meant it.”

Tessa pressed her hand to her heart, the gesture automatic now. “I love you too,” she said simply. “Even when I thought you were choosing your career over us, I loved you. And now, knowing what you actually chose?—“

She couldn’t finish the sentence, overcome by the magnitude of what he’d sacrificed.

“What happens now?” she asked eventually, the question carrying weight beyond romance. “Victor will destroy your career. He’ll probably still get the pub demolished. You might have lost everything for nothing.”

Sebastian was quiet for a long moment, staring into the fire. “Maybe,” he admitted. “But I’d rather face an uncertain future with a clear conscience than build success on compromising everything I believe in.”

He looked at her then, his expression completely open. “Besides, I didn’t lose everything. I found you. I found out who I actually am when everything else is stripped away. That’s worth more than any position Victor could take from me.”

How is it possible that I found everything I never knew I was looking for in a man whose company was trying to demolish my pub?

“The investigation into Victor is still ongoing,” Sebastian continued. “The truth will come out eventually. But even if it doesn’t, even if I never get the company back, I know I made the right choice.”

Tessa stood and moved to sit beside him on the hearth, close enough to take his hands in hers. “Then we’ll figure out whatever comes next together.”

Sebastian’s smile was soft and wondering. “Together?”

“Together,” she confirmed. “Whether you’re a successful CEO or an unemployed former businessman with a passion for historic preservation, I love you. All of you. Even the parts that overthink everything and try to solve problems with strategy.”

He laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Good, because I’ll probably always be a strategic thinker. I just learned that some things are worth more than perfect strategies.”

Some people choose safety over love, she’d told Will’s photograph two nights ago. Others aren’t brave enough to fight for anything.

She’d been wrong about Sebastian. Completely, utterly wrong. When it mattered most, when everything was on the line, he’d chosen courage over comfort, love over logic, principle over profit.

“What happens now?” she asked again, but this time the question felt full of possibility instead of fear.

Sebastian met her gaze, his eyes reflecting the firelight and something that looked like hope. “Whatever we choose,” he answered, his voice rough with emotion and promise. “Together.”

Whatever we choose. Not what’s practical, not what makes sense on paper, not what’s safe. What we choose.

In that moment—surrounded by history, bathed in firelight, with the echo of Will and Rebecca’s love story still warming the air—Tessa knew he was right. They had choices to make, and for the first time in her adult life, she was ready to choose with her heart instead of her head.

Will and Rebecca’s story reached its conclusion. Ours is only beginning.

And what a beginning it promised to be.