Chapter Twenty-Three
Margo
“You—you—” Sarah put her hands to her stomach, turning green. I pressed my tongue to the top of my mouth, feeling Rossy’s eyes on me, but I couldn’t look at him.
I wasn’t strong enough for that, not yet.
True to her word, Cardinal hadn’t said anything to Rossy or Sarah.
As Hayes drove here, I shot her a text, telling her I wanted her to be with me when I gave them the truth.
The bookstore was empty, as it always was around five.
People were getting off work, picking up their kids from after-school programs, and going home for dinner.
We always got another little push right before closing, but for the next hour or so, it was just us.
Hayes and Dominic were setting up the security system, and the four of us were in the back supply room.
I’d set up our staff meeting chairs in a square.
Two on each side. Cardinal was beside me, her hand on my knee, Sarah directly in front of her, and Rossy…
he’d gotten out of his seat two minutes into the story, pacing back and forth, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, his glasses hanging from his fingers.
It was a nervous tick that came out when there was bad news or a hard quarter.
“You lied to me,” Sarah finally said. Four words, a brutal accusation, laced with hurt and disbelief.
I nodded. “Yes,” I rasped.
“You—you told me your father and mother were happily married.”
I felt Carrie’s eyes on me then, and I tried swallowing the glass in my throat. “I needed you—everyone—to think I was a normal woman who came from a normal life.”
Sarah leaned forward, eyes filled with hot, angry tears, her cheeks red. “Six years, Margo!”
“I never intended to stay here.”
“You…we…you were there when I had the twins,” my sweet friend rasped.
I felt pain in my gut then. “Yes, and it’s still one of my favorite days. I’ll never forget the way Michael smiled at you when I walked in,” I croaked.
She said nothing, glancing at Cardinal as she leaned back. She kept her wobbling chin high. “Are you in danger?”
There was no sense in lying. I was tired of lying. “Yes.”
“Is my family in danger, Margo? Are my children safe, or do I need to send them to their grandparents’?”
“Gordon has no idea who you are to me. He has no idea I’m in Astoria—”
“Well, he must certainly have some idea, Margo. He came to the bloody bar looking for you,” Rossy clipped, his voice shaking with rage.
I bent my head, staring at my lap as he sighed.
“I thought I was done with the danger…with the senseless violence that’s plagued my life for decades,” he mumbled to himself as he started the pacing again, his footfalls soft against the thin carpet.
“I assume Grayson has looped Michael in on this?” Sarah asked Carrie. Her hand shifted on my thigh, her thumb rubbing in soothing circles.
“Yes.”
Silence.
Cardinal cleared her throat. “I know you’re angry about her lies. I know you’re hurt, but I need you both to see why she felt like she had to lie to start a new life.”
“Carrie—”
“I had every intention of lying and to continue lying as I found and built a new life for myself,” Cardinal declared. “Sarah, I did lie to you. I know you remember that.”
“Of course I do,” she rasped.
“You’re angry because you’re hurt,” Cardinal said, grabbing my hand.
“You’ve known Margo for years and developed relationships with her.
The lies about her past shouldn’t change who she is to you—a wonderful friend with a heart of gold.
” My head snapped up, my eyes stinging with grateful tears.
Her blue eyes met mine, understanding and compassion in her smile.
“You’re brave, Margo. I need you to know that and hold on to it. ”
“Everyone out.”
My spine snapped straight at Rossy’s demand.
Sarah and Carrie looked at him, but I kept my eyes on the floor.
My imagination was running wild, picturing the look on his face.
Would it be filled with anger? Hurt? Disappointment?
Would he look at me like I was a stranger to him?
Would I be nothing to him? The ache in my chest morphed into a stabbing pain as my heart rate climbed the stairs of panic.
I couldn’t lose Rossy.
I couldn’t lose any of them, but Rossy? He was—
“Rossy, we’re having a conversation,” Carrie said softly. “Why don’t you come sit down?”
“No, I will not sit down. I’m asking you and Sarah to leave. I need to have a word with my Margo,” he answered coldly.
My Margo.
“Maybe we could—”
He roared then, making me jump and finally look at him. “Get out!”
The door opened and Hayes was there, jaw tight. “Rossy, get a lock on it.”
I didn’t take my eyes off the man who, in a different life, should’ve been my father.
His gray hair was disheveled, eyes red rimmed, face flushed with a variety of emotions, chest heaving, bow tie crooked.
He’d thrown his sports coat over the back of his chair, leaving him in just a tweed vest and cream shirt.
His eyes landed on me and the world stopped.
“My darling girl,” he rasped, words trembling, unsteady in this storm of pain.
My hand slapped over my mouth to conceal the sob.
“Carrie. Sarah. Give them a minute,” Hayes quietly muttered.
The door closed a few seconds later, leaving Rossy and me alone, and that’s when he broke.
He came to stand in front of me and dropped to his knees, a single tear sliding down his cheek as he pulled out his handkerchief.
I didn’t flinch when he brought it up to my face, wiping the foundation off the bruised cheek.
His eyes lingered on the bruise for some time, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
“You didn’t stay on your couch,” he whispered, dropping his head.
“You told me you were fine and I left you there, thinking you were safe.”
I crumbled then. “Rossy, this—this isn’t your fault,” I pushed out. “I thought I could handle Marcus. I never thought—”
“My wife and I tried for a baby for a long time,” he began, his voice damn near broken.
“Lily, my wife, all she ever wanted was a child.” He leaned back, gasping for air, looking up at the ceiling.
He ran his hand down his mouth, rubbing his jaw, finding his thoughts.
“I did everything I could to give her one. We went to fertility doctors. For months, I suspected that I was the problem. Given the way my life had panned out up until that point, it seemed obvious.” He righted his head, looking at me with a sad but gentle softness in his hazel eyes.
For the first time, I could see flecks of green standing out against the pain.
“We came to be with child and my Lily was overjoyed. With all the happiness oozing from her, it felt like we were in a fairy tale. She’d come home singing.
She danced in the kitchen and laughed in the garden.
All was right with the world, and I’d done my part to make her happy. I’d kept my vow to her.”
“Rossy,” I whispered, knowing something bad was coming.
“When I found her on the floor that day, covered in her own blood, holding our dead daughter in her hands, I ultimately concluded that I was never meant to be a father. I never put that burden on my sweet Lily, of course,” he whispered, the side of his mouth turning up.
“I never wanted her to feel that level of devastation. Up until that point, I’d tried everything in my power to prevent it.
I never shared the horrors I witnessed during my time in the military.
I never wanted her to carry that darkness. She was my Lily: my color, my light.”
He reached out and grabbed my hand. “Then, twenty years later to the day, your car broke down in front of my bookstore.” As my sobs cut through the thick air around us, slicing his pain in half for me to take a piece, to feel the weight of it in my own hands.
“Forgive me,” he rasped. “Forgive me for caring about you so, my darling Margo.”
I lunged for him, wrapping my arms tightly around his shoulders. His hands were at my back, patting me softly. “I think the world sent you to me as an apology,” he muttered.
I nodded into his neck, the smell of his peppermint tea invading my nose. “Ditto, boss man.”
“I’m not mad at you,” he rasped, rocking us. “Please know that my anger doesn’t lie with you.”
“I’m sorry,” I croaked. “I’m so terribly sorry for lying to you.”
He pushed me back, hands on my shoulders.
“Don’t apologize for doing what you needed to in order to feel safe.
No one has the power to hold that over you, including Sarah.
She’s just, well…last year scared her. Michael tells me she still has nightmares, but she is coping.
She thought the violence was done, that’s all.
She doesn’t like seeing the people she cares about in danger.
She gets angry because she doesn’t know how to help, and she hates feeling helpless. ”
“I know she does,” I whispered. Everything he said made sense. I just hate that I caused any of them pain. “I never wanted to hurt anyone; I just wanted to be free.”
“And you will be,” he promised. He gave me a small, normal Rossy smile, and slipped on his glasses.
I watched as he sat back on his heels and looked at the empty chairs.
“I cannot believe my outburst,” he whispered, shaking his head.
“I haven’t…” He let out a small, shameful chuckle.
“Well, to be honest darling, I haven’t yelled like that in years. ”
“You earned it,” I deadpanned, gesturing to myself. “Look at who you have to put up with.”
His eyes flashed with pride then. “A stubborn woman who swears too much and, as Carrie put it, has a heart of gold.”
My lip trembled. “Don’t do that shit, Rossy. I just stopped crying.”