Page 104 of Playing Dirty
“It’s not. So stop punishing yourself and let him help you.”
"I don't know how to explain it," I admit, tracing the rim of my mug. "It's so embarrassing, Sab. Falling apart at all is bad enough, but falling apartnow, during the biggest two weeks of his entire life? He should be thinking about nothing except hockey, and instead he's checking on me through my sister.Stepping back felt like the one unselfish thing I had left. Let him focus. Keep the mess where he can't see it."
"And the real reason?" Sabrina asks, quiet, because she has always known when there's another floor beneath the one I'm showing her.
I stare down into my tea for a long moment.
"He fell in love with a version of me that was functional," I say finally, my voice barely a whisper. "He's never seen this part of me. And I keep thinking, what if he does? What if he looks at me mid-spiral and the spark just... dies?" My throat goes tight. "Maybe the only way to keep him is to never let him see the mess. I know how it sounds, but I can’t get the thought out of my head."
“You can't predict the future, Margot.” Sabrina sighs. "I can't claim to know what's coming, and Cillian can't either, but for the record, he looks at you like you're the sun and the moon. He even claims to love the way you color-code your pens!"
I laugh softly, the sound feeling foreign after such a long stretch of misery.
"I know that," I say. "He's a wonderful person. It's more that... what if he reacts like Jason did? After the cheating, Jason said it was my fault because being around me was 'too heavy.' And to be fair, I was still learning to manage the anxiety then, so?—"
"Stop. It was never your fault." Sabrina's voice is sharp, cutting through the memory. "He's an absolute ass for ever suggesting it. You know what 'heavy' actually was? You working full-time, finishing a degree, and hitting therapy while still making sure he was taken care of. And he cheated anyway. No version of you, best day or worst, deserves that. Struggling isn't a reason to betray someone. It's a reason to show up for them."
I nod because I know she's right, intellectually at least. I'd say the same thing to a friend and mean it. It's the believing-it-about-myself part that's never taken.
“Ugh, why did this have to happen now.” I stare into theshadows, sipping the lukewarm tea. "Like I couldn't have had some breakdown in a past relationship about them leaving? The idea of one of them leaving me never fucking sent me into a spiral."
"Because you didn't care about them nearly as much," Sabrina says simply, and I turn to look at her. "You liked those guys, sure, but with Cillian you're actuallyall in. So the stakes are higher, and it freaked you out."
"You're right," I say with a long, weary sigh. Being apart from him feels like part of my soul has been torn out, which only makes the idea of him ever leaving me that much more terrifying.
I can't keep the tears back anymore, a few finally tracking down my cheeks despite every effort to stay composed, and I reach up to brush them away. A crushing sense of desolation has taken hold. Barely a month ago I was happier than I ever dared to dream, and now the old poison has seeped back in, as if it were always lying in wait for the moment I finally let my guard down.
“You know, I'm here for you too.” Sabrina reaches out to squeeze my hand, her expression going uncharacteristically soft. "I know I can be flighty, and I lose my keys all the time, and lord knows I should be making my own lunches by now, but I'm always in your corner. No matter what."
"I know you are." I sniffle and manage a weak, watery smile. "You're the best sister I could ask for."
"Ride or dies, always." She squeezes my fingers.
"Ugh, sorry I'm such a mess." I swipe at my nose with the back of my hand, letting out a shaky, jagged breath. "How did you end up so chill? I never understood how we grew up in the same house and I'm a bundle of anxious nerves while you're so relaxed all the time."
She smiles, a slow look that's both tender and a little sad. "I had you."
"What?"
"I thought it was obvious." She gives a slow shake of her head. "It's because I had you. I always knew that if I was scared, or had a heartbreak, or if I just messed up, you were there. You picked me up from parties, read me stories when I couldn't sleep, you sat with me through the bad grades. You stood between me and Mom and Dad's whole guilt machine so I could be free of it. You caught every blow before it ever reached me."
I can feel the tears starting again, but this time they're different. "That's just being a big sister, Sab."
"No, it isn't," she says, misty-eyed herself now. "But that's why I don't have that anxiety. I grew up inside a world you made feel safe, and you grew up with nobody making one for you. I'msosorry you didn't have a Margot of your own, because you really deserved one."
I let out a wet, half-choking laugh and pull her into a fierce hug. "I'm really happy with the sister I got, for the record. I love you so much, Sab."
"I love you too," she whispers back against my shoulder.
30
Cillian
It's the night before game seven of the Stanley Cup Final. Tied series, three wins each, and whoever wins tomorrow takes the Cup.
I'm out on the balcony, forearms on the railing, the whole glittering sweep of San Francisco laid out below me and the bay black and calm beyond it. The night air is cool off the water, and behind me, muffled through the glass, the sounds of a full apartment drift out.
My whole family flew in from Dublin this morning, and dinner is in full swing in there, Ellie's laugh rising over everyone's the way it has since she was six. I'm so fucking happy they're here. But a full table has a way of spotlighting the one person missing from it.
