The days that followed Jaegar's return passed like a gentle balm over wounds that had festered too long in solitude.

Diana's small house, which had stood silent and melancholy through the months of separation, seemed to exhale with relief as laughter and conversation once again filled its rooms.

The very walls appeared to brighten as though the warmth of reunion had chased away shadows that no amount of light could dispel.

It was on the morning of the seventh day that Megan O'Sallivvan came calling, as had been her habit throughout the long months of Diana's grief.

The brunette neighbor had appointed herself as guardian angel to the heartbroken woman, arriving each morning with fresh bread, warm soup, and the determined cheerfulness of one who refuses to let a friend sink into despair.

Megan's key turned in the lock with the familiarity of long practice—Diana had given her the spare months ago when getting out of bed had become a monumental effort—and she bustled through the door with her usual armload of provisions and well-meaning concern.

"Diana, love, I've brought some of that honey cake you're so fond of, and Mrs. Patterson down the lane sent over some of her famous—"

Her words died in her throat as she rounded the corner into the sitting room and found Jaegar there, calmly arranging fresh flowers in a crystal vase that had been gathering dust for months. The sight of him—tall, healthy, and unmistakably present in a house where she had watched Diana waste away with longing—struck her like a physical blow.

The provisions tumbled from her arms as she let out a shriek that could have wakened the dead, her hand flying to her heart as though to keep it from leaping entirely from her chest.

"Sweet Mother of God! Jaegar Ambrose, you nearly gave me a stroke!"

Her initial shock quickly transformed into righteous indignation, the kind that only a woman who has watched a dear friend suffer can muster.

"And where in blazes have you been, you thoughtless boy? Do you have any idea what you've put that poor woman through? I've been coming here every day for months, watching her pine away like something from a tragic ballad, and where were you?"

Jaegar set down the flowers carefully, understanding that Megan's anger came from a place of fierce protectiveness for the woman he loved.

"I was... away," he said simply, knowing that any explanation involving duels and witch councils would only complicate matters further.

"I was angry and foolish, and I let pride keep me from where I belonged."

"Angry and foolish is right!" Megan declared, though some of the fire had gone out of her scolding as she saw the genuine remorse in his eyes.

She had watched this boy grow up, had seen him transform from a gangly child into the young man who stood before her, and despite her current fury, she loved him nearly as much as Diana did.

And her thoughts quickly ran back to the summer when she had his strong hands all over her, and just the thought made her legs weak. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Diana herself appeared in the doorway then, drawn by the commotion, and the sight that greeted Megan nearly brought fresh tears to her eyes.

Gone was the pale, hollow-cheeked woman who had been merely existing through the empty days. Color had returned to Diana's cheeks, life to her eyes, and she moved with the graceful energy that had been her hallmark before sorrow had drained it away.

A person's warmth can truly transform their entire being.

"Megan," Diana said with a smile that held genuine warmth for the first time in months, "I see you've discovered my surprise."

The transformation was so complete that Megan found herself momentarily speechless—a rare occurrence for a woman who had never met a silence she couldn't fill with conversation.

Diana looked years younger, as though Jaegar's return had somehow reversed the ravages that grief and loneliness had worked upon her spirit.

Well, Jaegar had used some of his arcane spells to heal her, which may have affected appearances too, as he went overboard with the healing.

After all, his arcane arts were much stronger than any normal ones.

Later that day, after Diana had explained the situation and Megan had delivered a lecture that would have made a preacher proud about the responsibilities of family and the pain caused by thoughtless departures, Jaegar found himself walking the familiar path to the O'Sallivvan cottage. He owed Megan more than an apology—he owed her gratitude for caring for Diana when he had been too proud and wounded to do so himself.

Megan's house was smaller than Diana's but filled with the warmth that came from a woman who had spent her life nurturing others.

The smell of baking bread and dried herbs created an atmosphere of comfort that had always made Jaegar feel welcome, even as a child when he would sometimes escape there when Diana was busy with her own concerns.

"I wanted to thank you," he said when Megan opened her door, her expression still carrying traces of the morning's indignation.

"And to apologize. You shouldn't have had to care for her because I was too stubborn to come home."

Megan studied his face for a long moment, seeing something there that satisfied whatever test she was conducting.

"Well," she said finally, "at least you have the sense to recognize your failings. That's more than most men manage."

Her expression softened slightly. "She's like a sister to me, that woman. Watching her fade away nearly broke my own heart."

Megan leaned against the doorframe, her auburn hair spilling over one shoulder. She was still the same, with curves that strained against her low-cut tank top and denim cutoffs that barely reached mid-thigh. Her green eyes glinted with mischief as she leaned forward towards him.

"You know how you can repay me, Jaegar," she said, her voice dropping into a low, seductive purr.

She stepped closer, her bare foot brushing against the welcome mat, and leaned in so her breath tickled his ear.

"You can repay me by visiting my bed. You know, my family isn't home."