24. Ransom
24
RANSOM
I watch Blair disappear into her garage before turning back to Maggie. "You look tired."
"Nice deflection. But we're talking about you first."
"I'm serious, Mags. What's going on?"
She waves her hand. "Life. Death. The usual drama. Now spill."
I lean back in my chair, studying her face. The shadows under her eyes, the pallor of her skin. The way her clothes hang loose. "Trade you. Truth for truth."
"Always trying to make a deal." There's no bite to her words. Only a tired resignation. "Fine. But you go first, and it better be the real story."
I take a deep breath. Maggie always could see right through my bullshit. "I came to buy the garage. To keep a promise I made to Robert."
"And now?"
"Now?" I watch a squirrel run across the square. "Now I don't know. I thought I could just sweep in, throw money at the situation, and leave. But being back here..."
Being back here has made me realize how much I've lost. And how much I still care. I'm sure as fuck not sharing that with Maggie. Not yet anyway. I don't know what I want to do, and until I figure that out, I'm playing my cards close to my chest.
"She's made it clear she's not selling. So if that's the only reason you're here, you need to go. She doesn't need you complicating her life."
"She did make it clear. I ripped up the paperwork, Mags. I'm done. Believe it or not, what Blair wants matters to me."
Maggie's jaw clenches, her dark eyes searching my face for any hint of deception. She folds her arms across her chest, shoulders tense, like she's physically bracing herself against whatever bullshit she thinks I might try to pull.
"Do you love her?"
Such a simple question. And such a loaded one. "Never stopped. The reasons I left aren't a barrier any longer, but there's a lot of years between us. And a lot of hurt."
"So what are you going to do about it?"
She's not fucking around today. But I give her the truth, just like I promised. "I haven't figured that out yet. She's never leaving this town. And I have a family and a life in the city. I have responsibilities there. People I need to take care of."
Her lips curve in a sneer. It would be more effective if she didn't look so fucking exhausted. "Responsibilities, huh? Well, I guess it's good to know where Blair sits on your list of priorities. Not that you didn't make things clear long before now."
She's trying to bait me, but I'm not falling for it. I need answers. "Your turn." I meet her eyes, keeping my gaze and my voice level. My stomach muscles are clenched, anticipating her answer. "What's wrong?"
She looks down at her hands. "Stage four. It's back again, and this time I'm done fighting. No more chemo, no more radiation. I'm just... I'm tired, Ransom."
It's so much worse than I thought. "Did you try?"
Her eyes blaze with fury. "Of course I fucking tried. This is the third fucking time, Ransom. I have a son. He's my whole world. The last thing I want to do is leave him. But it wasn't fucking working. All I could do was puke and sleep. It wasn't a life. Max was watching me waste away." Her hand curls into a fist, and she takes a shuddering breath. I reach out and cup her hand, and her fingers grip mine tightly.
Her eyes are glassy when she looks up again. "At least this way, I can be present for him. He can tell me about his day. I can nag him about brushing his teeth. Before…Blair was doing almost everything."
"How long?"
"Maybe six months. If I'm lucky." Her voice cracks slightly on the last word, and my chest tightens painfully.
"Fuck, Maggie. I'm so fucking sorry." The words feel inadequate, useless against the weight of what she's telling me.
"I am too. This wasn't how I thought life would turn out, you know. And without Blair, I don't know if I would have survived last time. It's too much this time, asking her to take care of me and of Max." She fidgets with the hem of her shirt, looking so far from the confident, vibrant woman I remember that a wave of dread washes through me. This is so fucking bad.
"I bet she doesn't see it that way. You were her family back then, Maggie. I doubt she feels any differently now." I lean forward, trying to catch her eye. Blair's loyalty runs bone-deep—I remember that much about her.
"No, she doesn't. But a person can only handle so much loss. Robert's only been gone a year, and now…" She doesn't finish the thought, but her unspoken words still hang in the air between us, heavy as lead. And now she's going to lose me. The silence that follows feels like a physical presence around my throat, suffocating and thick with grief.
I want to call in my helicopter and take her straight to the hospital. I want the best doctors in the world on her case. I want to force her to try again. Because she's right. Losing Robert, then losing Maggie? That's soul-destroying stuff right there.
I don’t want Blair’s soul destroyed. It’s too precious.
"Tell me about your son. Max?"
Her eyes are still glassy, but a small smile graces her lips. "Maxwell. He's six, and he's a complete lunatic."
"He sounds awesome. Tell me more. Where's his dad?"
She snorts and crumbles her muffin between her fingers. "He doesn't have one. My cancer came back nine years ago. It was harder than the first time, but I still beat it pretty easily. And after… I went a little wild. I went traveling and… well… got very friendly with several men in several countries. Basically, I whored my way through Europe. And nine months later, Max was born."
"And this was a happy thing, I take it?"
Maggie's smile is wry. "I was happy. Blair was not."
Blair always had very strong opinions about everything and everyone, except for the people she loved. If Maggie had told Blair she wanted to go to school to become a mime, Blair would have cheered her on. If she wanted to become a professional skydiver or join the circus, Blair would have supported her completely. So if Blair wasn’t supportive, there was a reason. For Blair, loving someone means loving everything about them, even the things that would normally bother her. “What was she worried about?"
"She was afraid my body wasn't strong enough." She winces and brushes muffin crumbs off her lap. "She wasn't wrong. I didn't think I could get pregnant. The chemo and radiation are hell on fertility. Hence the whoring. It seemed like a miracle, you know. Like getting pregnant was the silver lining in an otherwise cloud full of shit."
Noah's chubby hand and Mia's bright giggle flash through my mind. The pure joy those kids bring to everyone around them is indescribable. Every time I look at them, get to spend time with them, it feels like a gift, so I know exactly how Maggie feels about her son. "But you made it through."
"I did. Thanks to Blair. She moved in for the last few months of my pregnancy. Then stayed after he was born. It was only supposed to be for a few months, but newborns are no joke. And I was so tired all the time from the night feedings that it just made sense for her to come. Then she never left. We all still live together, except for a couple of weeks before Robert died. And when he was gone, I insisted she come back. I didn't want her living in that apartment all alone, surrounded by all his stuff."
All this time I've been imagining Blair in that apartment. I can picture every square inch of that place. But now, I can't imagine her curled up in her room or drinking coffee in that ugly kitchen. I don’t know her world anymore.
Why is that so fucking devastating?
"I'm glad she has you guys." I give Maggie's hand a squeeze, trying to ignore the way her skin feels paper-thin against mine. She flips hers over and clasps mine tightly, eyes wet with unshed tears that make my chest ache. I have to choke back the giant frog in my throat, fighting against the dread in my chest. "So she helped raise him?"
"Yeah. And she's great at it. I mean, she lets him eat pie for breakfast." Maggie lets out a wet laugh. "But she's always there for him, you know? She's so patient with him. So willing to teach him things. She's like the best dad ever. You should see them in the garage together—he's got his own little toolbox and everything."
"Sounds like Max is a really lucky kid." The words come out rough, and I can't help but think about how Blair's always been that way—steady and strong for everyone who needs her, even if they don't realize they do.
But the list of people Blair can depend on seems to be getting way too short.
"He is. We're both lucky."
Staring down at our hands, at Maggie's bony fingers, nails short and unpainted, I give her a truth I'm only coming to realize myself. "I never forgot her. Not for a day. But I could tell myself she's okay. She has a great support system and a community here. Then Robert came to see me and told me he was sick. And when I realized she was going to lose him, that lie I was telling myself started to fall apart." My throat feels tight, remembering that conversation with Robert, the way his hands shook as he held that coffee cup in my office.
"What's the lie, Ransom?" Maggie's voice is gentle, but there's steel underneath it. The same steel I've always admired in her, even now when she looks so fragile in that oversized sweater.
"That she would be better off without me. That me coming back would disrupt her life, and it was selfish to even think about it." She lets out a low sound, eyes locked on my face. I can't meet her gaze, can't handle the knowing look there. "I tried to throw money at it. Robert had me convinced that Blair needed freedom, needed a chance to choose her own life. And that obviously didn't fucking work." My fingers clench involuntarily around Maggie's hand, and I force myself to relax my grip, not wanting to hurt her.
"It still took you a year to come here after that meeting."
"Because I'm afraid I won't be able to leave this time."
She scowls. "Why is that such a horrible idea? Do you hate this place that much? Were we really so horrible to you when you lived here?"
How do I explain to her the reality of my life back then? I glossed over most of it when we were kids, but maybe this new version of Maggie can understand in the way the old Maggie couldn't. That Maggie didn't see all the pain in the world. She didn't see the darkness. But now, she's standing on the edge of the fucking abyss.
"I tried to kill myself twice the year after my family died." Her body shudders, and then she's holding my hand with both of hers. There's still strength there, still warmth, and I let myself accept her comfort. "Losing my family nearly destroyed me. And this town helped me heal. I found a family here. I was loved. And walking away nearly destroyed me again."
"Then why did you fucking leave!"
"I didn't have a choice."
"I don't buy that. Not for a second." Maggie's jaw clenches, a furrow between her brows. The familiar fire flashes in her eyes, despite the pallor of her skin.
"It was the responsible choice. I did it for Blair. And I don't know that I could have done anything differently back then. I'm not sharing the why, Mags. That's not something you get to have. But I'm asking you to believe me when I tell you that I had to go." She looks like she wants to argue, but thankfully sees something on my face that stops her.
"But I don't get why being here now is so bad."
"I promised myself I would never let another family go. In Chicago, all of my brothers and I live in the same building. We work together. I make sure we're tight. And I won't risk losing them. I have to hold my family together. And I can't do that from this town."
She stares at me, mouth open, for a long minute. She tugs her hands away, dropping them into her lap as she slowly shakes her head. "Jesus. I thought you were smarter than that."
Her words are like a physical punch, shoving me back in my seat. "What do you mean?"
"God, Ransom. Families don't have to live on top of each other to stay connected. The city's two hours away. It's not across a fucking ocean. Are you really telling me that with all your money, you couldn't figure out a way to make it work? I bet you even own a helicopter. You could commute to work like the fucking billionaire you are."
"It's not like that. We have dinners together. We hang out on the weekends. I babysit my niece and nephew. I get to be a part of all of it. Moving away from them means I'd miss important moments." I've lost two families. I can't let us fall apart.
"That's great," she says flatly, looking over my shoulder. "So you should go back to them, then. Get in your car now, and go. So you can be a part of their lives, instead of living your own."
Fuck, she's not pulling any punches. When did she get so mean?
I shove down the little niggling thought at the back of my head, that maybe she's right. "That's fucking harsh, Maggie."
She just shrugs. "That's basically what you're saying. It doesn't matter that you still have feelings for Blair. You care more about your family. That's your choice to make. It's a respectable choice, even. No one's going to fault you for being there for your family. Blair's tough. And she has the people in this town to support her when the time comes. So you can leave with a clear conscience."
"Just like that? Just pick up and go? After everything that's happened, you think it's that simple?"
"You've apologized, Blair's forgiven you. What else is there to do here? You've got your closure, your clean slate. Isn't that what you came for?"
"What about you? You're dying, Maggie." My voice cracks on the words, and I hate how helpless I feel. Just like when my family died, I'm watching someone I care about slip away, and there might not be anything I can do about it. It doesn't matter that I haven't seen her in years. She was my friend. She was good to me. And the idea of her not being here in a few months is fucking unacceptable.
"Yeah. Well, that's not new either. And I don't need you. Neither does Blair. So, go." Her words are like ice, sharp and cold and cutting right through me.
There it is. Blair's going to be fine. She said so. This should be my cue to get the fuck out of this town.
"I can't," I admit, the words torn from somewhere deep in my chest, raw and honest in a way I haven't let myself be in years. "I can't walk away from her again. This is exactly why I shouldn't have come here. It's just like back then, maybe worse. She's in my fucking bones, Maggie. I don't know how to get her out. Every time I look at her, every time she speaks, it's like no time has passed at all."
"Sounds painful," she says dryly, looking at me like she's over this conversation. I can't blame her. I'm over myself too. Why the fuck is this shit so complicated? I get what she's saying. Logically, it makes sense. My family's not going anywhere. I get it.
But my gut rolls at the idea of not being near them. It's codependent as fuck, but there you have it.
"Were you always this annoying?"
She shrugs and sips her coffee. The silence between us gets thicker and thicker. I'm the one that cracks first.
"She could never love me again, anyway," I mutter.
"You're probably right."
"It would be stupid to even try. There's no point in exploring those feelings."
"Nope. No point at all."
She is so fucking annoying. "But what if…" I trail off, because I don't really know how I would finish that sentence. What I said is true. I love being with my family. I worked really hard to build it strong.
But all my brothers are matched up now. They all have someone to love. They're laying in bed at night, holding their partners, and I'm watching movies with a fucking hamster.
"I'm being left behind." Again, she doesn't say anything. Just nibbles on her muffin. "They're all coupled up. They're going to have their own kids, and they're going to outgrow their apartments. There's a big ticking clock over all of it."
"How awful of them, to live these big beautiful lives. The lives you helped them build. They sound like selfish assholes."
"Stop fucking winding me up, Mags," I snarl at her. She looks completely unbothered. "Can't you let me have a fucking epiphany in peace?" Snickering into the lid of her cup, she waves her hand at me to continue.
"It's fucking inevitable. They're going to leave me." Dread unfurls in my chest, and I take a sip of my coffee to try and push it down.
Maggie's eyes meet mine over the top of my cup. "You're a parent. Kids always leave. But if you've done your job right, they're going to want to come back. They'll always come back."
"How do I know I did my job well enough?"
Her face scrunches up. "We can't know that. We can only do our best and hope. But you're healthy, Ransom. You'll be around for a long while. You have time to figure all that out."
"Way to play the cancer card. Very manipulative of you." Also damn effective. She's right. I do have time. Everything changed in the last two years. Everything is different, but it's also better. There's more life, more fun, more love.
So why can't that continue?
"I'm fucked up, Mags," I tell her, tapping my temple. "Everything is twisted up here, and I don't know how to untwist it."
"Maybe it's time to get out of your head, big guy, and start thinking with other parts of your body." My mind immediately goes to a very dirty place, and it must show on my face. She laughs, the sound making the people sitting at the table next to us smile. "Not that part. Your heart, asshole. Let your heart lead for once."
"My heart's always leading."
"Sounds like you let it lead with your family, maybe. But when it comes to you? What you need and what you want? I think you don't listen to it. And it's time you did."
"Just like that?"
She snorts and stands, tugging me to my feet. "Yeah, just like that. What's the alternative? Are you willing to spend the rest of your life wondering if you and Blair could have had something incredible?"
"No. I'm fucking not."
"There you go then. Now walk me back. I have to get to work."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Ma'am," she repeats under her breath. "Why do you have to be so mean?"