Page 87 of After We Fall (After We Fall 2)
“I can,” Jaime said loyally. “You quit your job and came to work with me. That was a risk.”
“Not really.” I wasn’t going to let them talk me into liking myself. “I was never going to be poor.”
“When Tripp said he didn’t want to get married last year, you broke things off. And you said no to him when he proposed, even though part of you wanted to say yes,” Claire added. “That was not easy.”
“I didn’t want to marry that jerk,” I said. “I just liked the ring, which makes me shallow.”
“Well, you should be proud as hell that you threw those scones. I’m proud of you.” Jaime shook her head. “God, I wish I’d been there.”
I allowed a tiny smile to work its way onto my lips. “I guess I’m proud of that.”
“See? And you can still make changes to your life. You don’t have to play any role you don’t want to,” she went on. “If you don’t want to work at Shine anymore, tell me. We can figure things out.”
“No, I do. I like the work. I like helping people grow their dreams.” I sighed, swirling the last sips of gin in my glass. “It’s not that I don’t like my life. I love my family, my friends, my work. And I’d be lying if I said being Margot Thurber Lewiston is really that tough. It’s not. I mean, what do I actually lack? It’s selfish to want more than I have, isn’t it?”
“Margot, it’s OK to want to share your life with someone,” Claire said. “No one thinks you’re selfish just because you want someone to love, and someone to love you back.”
The lump was back in my throat. “I do want that. And crazy as it sounds, I had this gut feeling Jack could have been that someone. I’m just so frustrated and sad he doesn’t see it.”
My friends looked at me sympathetically. “I wish I had more advice,” Jaime said. “But love is strange. When you’re looking for it, it knows just where to hide. When you’re not, it jumps out and clobbers you on the head.”
“Don’t I know it,” said Claire, tipping back her drink. “Maybe that’s what we’re doing wrong, Gogo. We’re looking.”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, you guys. I’m being a complete downer and I’m totally monopolizing the conversation. I had a disappointment, but I’ll survive.” A shaky smile made its way to my lips. “I actually started making this list of things I want to do while I was up there.”
“Like a bucket list?” Jaime ate one of the olives from the stick in her martini.
“No, more like Margot Thurber Lewiston’s To-Do List for Having a Funner, More Fulfilling Life.”
Claire grinned. “What’s on it?”
“Stop fearing 30. Ride horses. Learn to Cook. Get involved with the food justice movement. Get a tattoo.” It came out of nowhere, but as soon as I said it, I realized it was true.
“Wow,” Jaime said for the third time today. “It’s like a whole new Margot. What happened to you up there?”
“It wasn’t just up there,” I said. “I mean, it was definitely an intense week, but looking back over the last year or so, maybe even longer, I think this awakening has been a long time coming.”
Jaime nodded and held up her drink. “To Funner and More Fulfilling Lives.”
Claire and I lifted our glasses to hers and clinked. I felt better, and grateful for my friends, but a little piece of my heart still ached for Jack.
Maybe it always would.
Thirty-One
Jack
The morning after I broke things off with Margot dawned sunny and warm. It aggravated me, since I wanted the weather to match my glowering mood. I did the morning chores sluggishly, my bones weary, my muscles lax. No pride in my work. No feeling of contentment or accomplishment. No hope that I might find something about today to enjoy.
Just emptiness.
I’d spent the entire night hating myself for what I’d done. But I’d had no choice—I’d known all along I couldn’t have her. It didn’t matter that she was willing to give me a chance…I couldn’t take it. And she deserved someone whole, someone perfect, someone like her. She shouldn’t waste that chance on me. I was too broken, too flawed.
But God, I could have loved her. Easily. Deeply.
If I were someone else, if my life had gone differently, if I’d met her sooner. What would that alternate life look like? Would we be married? Would we have children? For a moment I let myself picture them, a little boy with curls like Cooper, a little girl with blond hair and blue eyes.
I swallowed hard, imagining tucking them in at night, reading them a story, giving in to their pleas for one more song, one more kiss, one more hug. Then I’d share the rest of my night with Margot, share my thoughts, share my body, share my soul.
