Chapter 25
25
Margot
M argot had been here before. Not this specific location, but she’d been in a facility that was supposed to help her heal. Those were the kinds of words used in places like this one.
Healing.
Growing.
Overcoming… as if different vocabulary words would make her feel better about failing as a human being. They were merely creative and constructive ways to tell a person they were broken without actually telling them they needed fixing.
Margot looked around the cafeteria. There was a spectrum of people at this particular institution. Some people dealt with their vices via self-harm. Others, like herself, used food. Either way, they were all in similar company.
She’d been here two months now. The process was going quicker this time around—mostly because she was open to it. The first time she’d been checked into a facility, she’d pushed against the administration and the doctors. She’d refused to accept she had a problem.
At least that was different this time around. It was easier to see the problems she’d caused not only herself but those around her. Margot fully intended to develop better habits so she could check out sooner.
Unfortunately, even the best-laid plans weren’t always the ones that ended up being followed. It was triggering to sit in group time and listen to the people around her say the same things she’d told herself so many times before. She found herself daydreaming about what her days had been like when she was at her happiest.
“Margot? Would you like to share today?”
She glanced around the group and shook her head. The advisor who led this particular meeting gave her a pointed look—one that confirmed everything Margot already knew. They weren’t going to let her check out until she hit her minimums. She needed to share in a group session at least five times. She had to meet with a therapist weekly. And she had to start eating balanced meals again, among other healthy habits.
Shaking her head once again, Margot stared down at her hands. She felt like a loser. Most of the people in this group resorted to harmful behaviors to cope with much bigger issues. They were abused, or they were manipulated by a partner. Some continued to return to dangerous relationships—oftentimes they were immediate family members.
But what did Margot have to be worried about? By all accounts, her life was a dream. She’d been raised by a father who loved her. There had always been food on the table. She’d gotten into a wonderful university and then got a job that many would kill for.
Then what?
She’d lost the job.
Margot’s face flushed with embarrassment even though no one knew what she was thinking about. It was one of the reasons she refused to share. She didn’t want the people here to see what a mess she’d turned her life into even though she had everything she could have needed to turn out right .
The rest of the meeting went about the same as it always did. Margot listened to people vent about how hard it was to overcome the obstacles that life threw at them. Then their group broke apart so they could go on to different activities.
Margot picked up her chair and folded it flat. She grabbed another and took them to the wall. She allowed herself to get lost in thought, wondering what Liam might be doing. Her memories with him were the ones that kept her going. Her therapist wouldn’t like knowing that was what she thought about when times got tough. According to her, Margot needed to discover ways to pull herself out of triggering situations without the help of others—because most of the time, that’s what she’d have to do.
“It’s Margot, right?”
She glanced over to a slight young woman who couldn’t be more than twenty. Courtney. That was her name. She’d shared a couple times, though most of her stories were vague at best. She didn’t give the sort of details that others were so willing to give.
Margot nodded. “Yeah. And you’re Courtney.”
She smiled. “That’s me.” Courtney leaned her own chair against the stack. She glanced at Margot out of the corner of her eye. “You’re new.”
Margot chuckled. “Not really.”
“I don’t remember seeing you around much.” Courtney tilted her head, her smile widening. “Then again, I might not be the best at noticing. Sorry. I just thought I’d introduce myself and tell you that it’s okay if you don’t want to share yet. It can take a lot of courage, and not everyone is ready at the same time.”
It was nice of Courtney to attempt to forge a friendship, but Margot wasn’t here for that. She nodded and headed off, but Courtney caught up and walked by her side.
“I heard there’s a dance class going on in about a half hour. I think it’s new.”
Margot peeked at Courtney. “Do you know what kind of dance?”
“I don’t. But I’d wager it’s got something to do with being active. Probably an exercise kind of dance or maybe even something similar to stretching and yoga.”
“That doesn’t sound like dance. It just sounds like working out,” Margot said.
“Do you like to dance?” Courtney wasn’t leaving. It was as if she’d turned Margot into her personal project and all because Margot had been singled out. Great. This wasn’t what she’d wanted.
“I used to dance,” Margot answered. “Not anymore.”
“Why not?”
Margot stopped and gave Courtney a pointed look. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have a limp.”
“So?”
It was difficult not to get frustrated with this woman. “So… I can’t do the same things I used to do. I might hurt myself again.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t dance. I bet you can do a lot more than you realize.” She wasn’t wrong—not entirely. Margot had gotten back into choreographing dances for the kids like she’d once done. She’d managed to demonstrate moves she’d thought she’d never be able to do again since getting hurt. They turned down a long hallway and Courtney nudged Margot. “What kind of dance did you do?”
“Ballet.”
“Really? No way! I’ve always wanted to learn ballet. But my dad never really wanted a daughter. He put me in every sport imaginable, instead.”
“What about your mother?”
Courtney frowned. “She passed away when I was little.”
Margot’s heart tightened. That story sounded awfully familiar. A father who didn’t see his daughter for what she really was. A mother who was no longer in the picture. Margot likely had a great deal more in common with Courtney than she wanted to admit. “I suppose I could show you some stuff.”
Courtney’s eyes brightened with excitement. “Really? You’d do that?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Sure. It’s not like we have anywhere to be, right?”
The young woman laughed, then nudged Margot. “You’re funny. Hey, I bet other people would like to learn ballet, too. You should talk to the activities coordinator. I bet they’d be happy to schedule you a room so you could teach a class.”
“I don’t know…” Margot hedged. Dance was so intertwined with everything that had gone wrong in her life. She’d nearly decided to give it up completely. But she couldn’t bring herself to go cold turkey. Dance was a lot of who she was. While it could be stressful, it wasn’t the main source of her issues. It might even be the one thing that had helped keep her going as long as she had.
“Think about it. And maybe in the meantime, we can go to one of those exercise dance classes together.”
Margot studied Courtney, unsure of how this friendship had come so far out of left field. While she had zero intention of making friends here, she couldn’t deny that there was a strange pull to this woman. Maybe she’d been too quick to make that decision. A small smile tugged at her lips as if against her will. “Yeah, okay. That sounds fun.”
“Make sure your toes are pointed out. Keep your legs together. Yes, like that. Now, focus on those arms. They are an extension of you. The curve should be graceful and draw the eye to the rest of your body.” Margot wandered through the room, critiquing about a dozen young women who were interested in learning ballet.
She’d been surprised not only with how many wanted to learn but also with how easy it had been to convince the staff to let her teach.
While none of this helped her get past losing Liam, it was helping her mental state. She could feel herself healing from the stressors that had sent her spiraling.
“Yes, like that.” She reached out and touched an elbow here or pressed on the waist of another student there. It felt nice to be back in the classroom—one where she wasn’t trying to impress her father or anyone else. The instrumental music guided them through their exercises. This was a different kind of meditation, one that Margot knew she’d continue when her stay was over.
When they finished their session, she sat on the floor and did some cool-down stretches. Courtney sat beside her and leaned against the wall. “That was great.”
Margot smiled at her new friend. “I’m glad.”
“I never thought that working out would be fun, but having to focus on every muscle and position of our bodies can really tire you out.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“You never told me where you used to dance. Was it here, in Colorado?”
Margot’s twinge of sadness wasn’t nearly as sharp as it had been when she’d arrived here. “I used to dance with a company in New York… before…” She lifted her leg.
Courtney sucked in sharply. “Oh. I didn’t realize… and that was why you stopped.”
“Actually,” Margot said, then leaned back and stared at the ceiling, “I did some dancing and choreography in a small town just outside of Colorado Springs.”
“That sounds fun.”
“You know, it really was.” Margot glanced at her friend, her sadness returning. “I would have never done it if it weren’t for this guy. He pushed me to find purpose again.” She hadn’t been able to bring herself to talk about Liam to anyone before now. She’d met Courtney only a month ago. Ever since that day, she’d been getting progressively better. And perhaps that was the problem. She was leaning too heavily on someone else again.
“What happened with him?”
Margot sighed. “I messed it all up.”
“I doubt that.”
She let out a dismal laugh. “Oh, you don’t know just how good I am at sabotaging my life. I’ve gotten to be an expert.”
Courtney nudged her, bumping their shoulders together. “I think it’s safe to say that we’re all experts at that sort of thing.” Her soft smile was strangely reassuring. “Have you called him? This mystery guy?”
“Oh, heaven’s no. There’s no way he’d want to talk to me after the way I left things.”
“What did you do? Did you tell him that you didn’t love him?”
“Well… no…”
“Did you tell him there was someone else?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what was it?”
Margot eyed Courtney, realizing just how much she’d blown this one out of proportion as well. “I told him that I wanted more out of my life. That the small town where he lived wasn’t going to be enough.”
Courtney was quiet for a moment, then she heaved a sigh. “Honestly, to me, that sounds like you could come back from it. You just have to go back home and tell him you were wrong.”
“That’s a great deal harder than you make it sound,” Margot said. “He’s one of those guys who could get anyone. And I mean anyone. I was the screwup who didn’t know what to do with my life.”
“Maybe that’s changed.”
“How’s that?”
Courtney shrugged. “What if you started a dance studio? You could teach the girls in your town. You clearly love it. And you’re good, too. It’s not hard to see how happy you are when you’re in front of a group of students. Maybe you should consider it.”
Margot wanted to laugh at what Courtney suggested. But she couldn’t. The girl had a point. And funny enough, her advice sounded a lot like Liam’s. Even if Margot couldn’t get him back, she could find happiness in other ways.