Chapter 21
21
Margot
L ost.
That was the only way to describe it.
Margot had never experienced it quite like she did in that moment. She was utterly lost—heart and soul. That was why she couldn’t bring herself to get out of bed. Finals would begin this week. She’d done everything she could with the ballet performance. Initially, she’d been excited to attend. Why wouldn’t she be?
Because the closer it got, the more broken-hearted she became. She used to be a dancer—up on the stage beneath those warm lights. She used to light the world with her talent. All she had to show for it was a limp.
Sure, everyone who was involved in the show had raved about her vision and how she’d managed to pull everything together, but their praise was lost on her. The world had become so much bigger. Her depression and anxiety were getting the best of her.
Margot didn’t feel like she was in control at all. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was that had sent her spiraling. She was juggling so many things that it was hard to figure out which one she could put down. It was like she’d been forced to become a jester, juggling everything that people threw at her. The classes were her father’s idea. The ballet was something Liam had said would help. Prada’s care was always in the back of her mind.
While she’d thought that she wanted all of it, she now realized she was drowning. Liam had been her life preserver at one point. She’d been able to count on him to bring her back from the brink, but everything had escalated too far for that now.
Margot didn’t have anyone she really felt she could trust with her issues. Her father would send her to a facility to get better. Liam would break up with her. She didn’t have any friends. She was at a complete loss, and all she could do was hope to make it to the following morning.
She pulled the covers over her head and rolled over on her side. There had to be another option. There had to be something she could do to crawl out of the hole she’d dug for herself. There was a solution somewhere; she just couldn’t see it clearly enough.
A knock on her bedroom door jolted her to the present. It was Sunday. Her father didn’t have to work, but he usually let her sleep as long as she wanted to on the weekend. She could pretend to do just that. In fact, that was exactly what she was going to do.
Margot closed her eyes and prayed her father would just get the hint and leave.
“Margot? I need to have a word with you.”
She bit back a groan. If she indicated that she was awake, he would never give her the space she wanted this morning.
“Margot,” he said firmer this time. “We need to talk.”
Flinging the blankets aside, she climbed out of bed and grabbed her robe. The fabric hung on her limply, drawing more attention to the fact that she’d dropped to a weight she’d been in high school. Her father was bound to notice.
And he wasn’t going to be happy.
Hopefully, whatever was so important to talk to her about would keep his attention focused elsewhere. She pulled on the door and peered through the opening. “What do you need, Dad?”
“I—” He cut himself off as he gave her a cursory look. His brows pulled together, and his mouth tightened. “I need to speak to you about Liam.”
She rolled her eyes. “What is it this time? Did you see him in town and he offended you? I told you I’m not dating?—”
“That’s not what I heard.”
Margot scrunched her face and looked skeptically at him. “Since when do you ever put stock in what other people in town say? You’ve always told me not to care what anyone but family thinks.” That was one of the biggest issues she’d had to deal with since her mother passed.
Rhett was many things, but he wasn’t a gossip. The fact that he was bringing it up meant only one thing. He trusted the source. She shut her eyes tight with defeat. When she’d gone out yesterday, she’d caused a scene with Liam. Someone had taken note and shared the information with her father.
Oh no! Still, she attempted to draw him away from the truth. “I don’t know who told you, but they’re wrong.”
He stared at her hard. The judgment in those eyes turned the blood in her veins to ice. Margot looked away, and her father started in on his lecture. “I told you that boy was no good. He’s a bad influence. Whatever it is he’s doing to you, it’s not good.”
“Doing to me?” She practically squawked. “Liam isn’t doing anything to me. If anything, he’s the one keeping me from…” Her voice trailed off as she noticed just how angry her father looked. That was when she realized she’d opened the door fully and her robe had slipped off her bony shoulder. Margot scrambled to pull the fabric back in place, berating herself for sleeping in a tank top rather than a T-shirt.
Her father’s eyes didn’t leave that spot. His face flushed a deep crimson color to the point she wouldn’t have been surprised if it turned a shade of purple. “You’re at it again, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.
“Don’t lie to me, Margot. We’ve been through this before. I’m not an idiot.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, turning it over in his. “You’re skin and bones. You’re not eating. I thought we’d gotten through this. I thought you were better.”
She jerked her hand away from him. “It’s not like a cold, Dad. You can’t just get over it. No matter what, it’s always going to be there in my head. It’s like a disease that won’t go away.” The last bit she said quietly. There was no more energy left to make this argument. All she wanted to do was climb back into bed and close her eyes against the world. Unfortunately, she knew that wasn’t a possibility. Her father wasn’t going to let her do that, even if she pleaded with him.
“It’s him , isn’t it?”
Her eyes flew to meet his. “No.”
“It’s that Keagan boy. I knew he wasn’t good for you. I knew he’d stir up trouble the second he brought you home that first night you were back.” He marched in front of her door, pacing back and forth so roughly he might have burned holes in the carpet. “He’s put pressure on you, and you’ve regressed. That’s it—the only thing that makes sense.”
She pushed herself into the doorway. “You’re wrong .” Desperation poured from every pore of her body. She nearly reached out to grab onto her father to stop him from his angry movements, but she knew she didn’t have the strength to do anything.
“Am I?” he said, giving a look that usually made her question herself. “The second you started seeing him, you went on a downward spiral.”
“I was on a downward spiral the second I stepped foot back in your house.”
He stopped, staring at her like she’d slapped him clear across the face. “If that’s how you feel, then perhaps you’d like to find somewhere else to live.”
Margot didn’t want to admit that she’d thought about doing just that. But however she’d run the numbers, she knew she wouldn’t be able to make it work. She was stuck living with her father until she could get a job that would be enough to cover what she needed. Sure, she could get a couple minimum wage jobs and have enough to barely scrape by, but knowing the state of her mental health, she didn’t think that was wise.
“There it is. I get it now. It’s not that you can’t leave. It’s that you don’t want to.”
She dug her fingernails into her palms. He was wrong about that, too, but she wasn’t going to give him any more fuel for his fire.
“You’re so addicted to the lifestyle I’ve provided for you that you can’t bring yourself to leave.” He let out a sound that could only be described as pity. “No wonder you haven’t run off with that young man. He can’t provide you with what you want. And he never will.”
Her heart shattered. Oh, how she wanted to throw back the words that had been building inside her, poisoning her from the inside out. But the truth was, her father was right. He had always been tough on her. His rules had often not made sense. And while she’d made him out to be the bad guy all this time, he was probably the one person who told her how it was.
“Then again, maybe I’m wrong.”
She looked up at her father, not daring to hope he would be able to say something that could give her something to cling to.
“I’ve heard about him and the way his family is turning things around. Maybe the real issue is that you’re scared he’s going to find out.” Her father’s voice was cool, calm, collected. He was telling her all the truths she’d tried to hide away from. “You’re scared he’s going to up and leave when he realizes just how hard it is to take care of you.”
Margot swallowed back a sob. She leaned against the doorway. He was right. She was terrified that Liam would grow tired of having to take care of her and she’d end up alone anyway.
Strong arms came around her, and she leaned into her father’s embrace. He held her tight, his voice almost soothing. “I know you can’t see it, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel.”
She buried her face in his chest.
“And one day you’re going to look back at this and realize that it was only going to make you stronger. I don’t think Liam is a good fit for you.” His words were hard for her to hear. She didn’t want them to be true, and yet she couldn’t deny it.
Liam was a guy that made her feel beautiful and smart. He was like cotton candy. Sweet, sugary, and wonderful in the moment. But when it came to the hard issues, she didn’t know if he would be strong enough to support her.
The one thing that she despised about her father was also the one thing that would help her survive.
“I never told you this, but your mother struggled a lot with this sort of thing.”
She lifted her eyes to her father’s, unable to find the words to demand more information. Her mother had died so long ago that Margot couldn’t remember much.
“It’s true,” Rhett murmured. “There were several times when I had to take her to the hospital to make sure she got the help she needed. Sometimes, it was only for a weekend. But there was one time she stayed for three months.”
She blinked several times, tears spilling out onto her cheeks.
Her father wiped at them. “I’ve only ever wanted the best for you. I could see you heading down a dangerous path that I wanted to prevent you from taking. Unfortunately, I didn’t do such a great job.”
Her heart went out to him, and along with it, all the guilt and turmoil she couldn’t seem to let go of.
“Liam may be a lot of things, but I don’t think he’s the one who will stand by your side when the lights go out and all you have left is a flickering candle. I think it’s time you tell him that it’s over.”
Her stomach twisted and knotted painfully. “I can’t,” she whispered.
“You must. The time to fix what’s been broken has passed. You can’t do this on your own. Can you see that?”
A sharp, agonizing pain squeezed her chest. “But I love him, Dad.”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough.”