Page 102 of Playing Dirty
Rage flares in my gut at the mention of the man. A sharp, bitter jealousy that the prick ever had a claim on her, or that he was anywhere near her this evening. I tamp it down to stay focused on her.
"And I don't know," she continues. "He was being his usual, exhausting self, and I'd been building toward a break all week anyway. The media circus, those vile comments. He was just the final straw. I snapped."
"I'm so sorry, Ace." I nod slowly and run my hand down her arm. "I should've been there."
"No, it isn't your fault," she says. "I just feel... so out of control."
"Okay. Then we handle it together." I pull her hand into mine. "And you don't need to come to these games if it's too much right now. I didn't mean to push you if you felt like they were..."
"No, it isn't the games." She shakes her head and her eyes slide away from mine, off into the dark where the lot ends. "But I need to tell you..."
A cold knot of dread settles in my gut. Whatever she's about to say, I already know I don't want to hear it.
"Cillian, I think I need a little stretch of time to myself," she says. "I'm not saying this is a breakup, or at least I really don't want it to be. But you're in the most important part of your career, and I feel like I'm... like I'm just going to poison everything."
She pulls her hand back out of mine, and the loss of it lands like something physical. Just an hour ago I would have staked my life on us, on the idea that two souls this intertwined couldn't be separated by anything.
"You're not poisoning anything," I get out, my voice rough. "What are you talking about? If you're having a hard time, then for fuck's sake, let me be there for you."
"No. I have to find my own footing." She shakes her head, fresh tears welling. "I know how to do this, Cillian. I've done it before, plenty of times. I can get myself out of it. But I have to actually do it, and you have a Cup to win. So let me handle this."
"And how exactly am I meant to focus?" I take a step toward her. "If you're up in Napa going through hell, I'll be thinking about you every single second anyway. At least let me be with you in it."
She gives me a sad little smile then, one that breaks my heart clean in two. "Trust me, being in it with me is worse than worrying from a distance. I've gotten through these before, andI always pull myself out. It just takes time, and I can't be one more thing you're carrying right now." Her voice wavers. "I'msosorry about the timing. I wish I could shove it down. I don't know what's wrong with me."
"There is nothing wrong with you, Ace. Nothing." The words come out fierce enough that she blinks. "There's nothing wrong with having a hard time, and I don't give a single fuck about the timing. I just want you okay."
"I know." Her voice goes soft, and somehow that's worse than the tears. "But this is for the best. I really believe that."
This is for the best.People say that when they're leaving. The thought lands cold and keeps spreading.
"Ace. I know what you said. But I need to hear it plain." I make myself ask. "Is this space, or are you breaking up with me?"
"No. God, no, I don't want to break up. I don't want to lose you." Her voice cracks apart on it. "But I'm starting to spiral, Cillian. I can feel the old darkness moving back in. And it's best if you just focus on the Cup."
"Fuck the Cup if it costs me you," I snap, words the old me would have never said, yet they're truer than anything I've ever felt.
"I won't be the reason you lose all of that." And that's when the tears finally break loose, spilling down her cheeks faster than she can wipe them away. "I love you so much, Cillian, and I'm so incredibly proud of you. And I'm sorry, because I'm drowning right now, and I know I'm hurting you, and I hate it. I just don't know what else to do."
She swipes at her eyes with a frustrated sound, and I stand there, wrecked by the sight of her pale face and that trembling lower lip.
Every instinct I possess is screaming at me to fix this. If it were logistics, I could handle the organization. If it were abroken gutter, I could find the tools. When a drunk put his hands on her, I could go over the glass and end it.
But there's nothing to swing at here, no enemy to fight, no heavy lifting I can do to make it right. The thing hurting her is her own mind, and I can't take the hit for her. I can't even help her if she won't let me in. I can't do a single useful thing except stand here and watch it happen, and I've never felt so helpless in my life.
"You don't have to face this alone. You're allowed to lean on me, Margot." I rasp, taking a step toward her. She flinches back, and the few inches she puts between us might as well be the width of the Atlantic. "You don't get to hide yourself away and do the repair work in secret and only come back when you're 'well' enough not to be a burden. That's not how this works."
She stares up at me, and for a moment I think she's going to agree. I can see it, her wanting to reach out, her resolve flickering as she considers letting me in. But then she starts shaking her head, slowly, more to herself than to me, and I know I've fucking lost her.
"No," she says, her voice thick as she turns away. "I can't think straight when I'm around you; you pull me in so much it's like I can't resist. I have to do this. Maybe after the Final, we can find a way. But it'll be better for both of us if I'm just... away for a while."
I stare at her, trying to understand how a panic attack at a party became this. An hour ago my biggest problem was a face-off percentage. Now the best thing that's ever happened to me is standing in a parking lot talking herself out of us.
"I meant what I said." She looks up, wiping her cheek with the heel of her hand. "I don't want this to be the end. But I know I'm not being fair to you, so I'd understand if you... if you'd rather I not contact you at all."
"Margot." It's out of me before she finishes the sentence. "There is no version of this where I don't want to hear from you."
"Okay." She exhales, lips trembling, and nods. "I should go. I'll be okay, I promise. I just need to get myself sorted. And you, you lock in and win the whole damn thing. We'll talk when it's over."
