"It's not your fault," he sighs. "It's not anyone's fault, really."

"And it's very good, if slightly inconvenient."

He nods.

"Anyway, I just stuck around to meet you and announce the plan, we'll have movers here when you're ready for them and we'll have people on the other end working on smoothing the transition. Thanks for taking good care of my sisters."

He smiles.

"It was very much our pleasure."

"See you soon!"

Imliss hugs him again good-bye.

Hugs. And then a flight home.

And Imliss and her parents start packing.

And he holds his wife and hums and kisses her cautiously and trembles.

And she kisses him gently and alternates between stroking his cheekbone with her thumb and hugging him as tightly as her muscles allow her to sustain and rubbing his back in gentle, soothing circles.

And eventually someone brings them in food and asks if they need anything.

It is theoretically conceivable that at some point she might get bored of doing literally nothing but reassure her husband that she's alive so maybe some books so she can do that thing and also simultaneously read if it comes down to it.

He is not going to get bored of her.

And reading material presumably wouldn't help if he was. She's not anticipating getting bored any time soon, but she'd rather have a solution on hand if at any point she does.

Love you, she murmurs, goes to kiss his jaw, reminds herself, chaste, and kisses his cheek instead.

I know, he says contentedly.

Good. It's very very important.

Glad you always knew I loved you even before knowing I was real.

You are very good at making sure I know it.

Good.

And cuddles.

Cuddles are fantastic.

Eventually she falls asleep.

He reads her dreams and is happy.

And in the morning there is a flutter of pleased surprise when she is awake enough to register where she is and in whose arms but before she is awake enough to slot yesterday into its correct context.

His vocabulary has not expanded. Idaia Idaia Idaia you're safe.

Mhm. Y're warm, she tells him, still not entirely awake. S'good. Cozy. Not that I wouldn't snuggle you if you were made of granite and enjoy it.