Chapter 35
For several hours, I’d been sitting in the dark in my old room (that was now a workout room turned craft room turned office) crying.
My parents didn’t know I was here. They’d gotten home about an hour ago.
I could hear them downstairs shuffling around.
I was sure they assumed I’d gone back to my house.
They lived exclusively on the first floor. It had everything they needed—all the main living areas plus the primary bedroom and the laundry room. Upstairs just had two bedrooms and a loft area where Audrey and I used to watch movies and play games with our friends.
I hugged a pillow to my chest, my tears finally drying up.
I wasn’t sure how to fix all the ways my life had gone wrong today.
I wasn’t apologizing to my sister this time.
She couldn’t sling hate every time she got mad.
I couldn’t forgive Oliver. He knew the past and still slept with me.
I deserved to know too, so I could make an informed decision.
Maybe I would’ve chosen him if he had given me the opportunity.
I thought about him with my sister, about the fact that if he had ever loved her, he could not possibly be compatible with me.
No, I wouldn’t have chosen him. And that went double now.
As for my career, there was nothing left to do there. I couldn’t change the fact that for the next few months I was going to get used over and over again to help authors get the agent they really wanted.
Sloane was still out of town and hadn’t answered my you around to chat text. I figured she wouldn’t. Tonight was the big awards show at the festival and I hoped she was living it up in that fancy dress she had bought.
I felt fifteen and helpless all over again, everything out of my control.
“You’re not fifteen, Margot, and you’re not helpless,” I muttered, frustrated with myself. I sat up and went to my backpack, where I freed my laptop. There was one thing I had control over right now: my work with Kari.
I started by reading the last set of pages she had sent me a couple days ago. I shouldn’t have. Somewhere in the midst of being in love with her book, I’d forgotten it wasn’t a romance. It was a thriller/romance with a horror ending. And the horror part was taking over.
The main character, Ana, had decided after her near-death experience at the end of the last chapter that had she listened to the AI, she wouldn’t be in this mess.
The AI only wanted what was best for her, or so she thought.
But what Kari was expertly letting the reader see was that the AI was, in fact, getting bored and testing psychological theories on unsuspecting humans.
And Alan had no idea that Ana was listening to the AI again.
He thought they were going to let love conquer all and screw the recommendations of something that had never experienced that all-consuming emotion before.
“Love is for losers, Alan,” I whispered to my computer as I scrolled to the next page. “And Ana is going to screw you over. Just like every human in every relationship in every era of time has.”
Maybe I wasn’t in the right mindset to read this book. Or maybe I was in the perfect mindset. I typed out some notes that I hoped didn’t sound too bitter and sent them off to Kari, adding the words I’ll have your videos for you by tomorrow at the end of the email.
I opened the package of watery fruit, popped a grape into my mouth, then AirDropped the videos to my computer so I could edit them.
By the time I was done, I was crying again. I wasn’t anticipating how much Oliver would be in the videos and how much seeing him would stir every emotion in my body.
As if he knew I was thinking about him, my phone buzzed on the bed next to me. You have no idea how sorry I am. Nothing I say can possibly justify why I didn’t tell you, but if you will give me a chance, I would like to try to explain. If you’d rather just ghost me, I deserve it.
I threw my phone back onto the bed with a growl. “Ghost. I pick the ghost.”
I closed my computer. I’d put the finishing touches on the videos and send them to Kari in the morning. All I wanted to do now was sleep.
My head felt like it weighed a hundred pounds as I tried to lift it off my pillow the next morning. And it was throbbing. My eyes felt puffy and raw. It took me a moment to realize it was the buzzing of my phone that had woken me.
“Hello,” I answered, my voice scratchy.
“Margot! I thought you were murdered by someone from one of those dating apps.” It was Sloane. “Your car is here. Where are you?”
“At my parents’ house.”
“You sound terrible.”
“You woke me up.” My phone said it was barely seven A.M.
“I was worried.”
“You home?”
“Yes, got in late last night. I tried calling but you didn’t answer.”
“I’ve had a weekend. I’ll tell you everything later. How was yours? Any of your clients win any awards?”
“Yes, actually. It was pretty amazing.”
“That’s awesome.”
“I’m glad you’re alive. I’ll see you after work.”
I nodded but then, realizing she couldn’t see me, said, “Okay.”
The phone went silent. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, then listened intently for any movement from my parents downstairs.
There was nothing. I padded to the bathroom, where I washed my face and brushed my teeth.
I was still wearing my clothes from the day before, so I changed into a fresh outfit from my suitcase, then rezipped all my belongings inside.
My mom was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee when I went downstairs. She let out a short scream when she saw me, her hand flying to her chest. “You scared me. I didn’t know you were here.”
“Sorry. I crashed upstairs last night. You and Dad are going to end up on the news as the couple who had a person living on their second floor for years if you don’t start doing a security sweep at night.”
“Very funny.”
“It wouldn’t be that funny, actually.” I gave her a small smile. “I had no way of getting home. My car is out of commission.” I pulled a mug out of the cupboard and filled it with coffee from the pot.
“That’s right. How did you get to Audrey’s yesterday?”
“Her ex-boyfriend dropped me off.” Apparently, I was feeling snarky this morning.
“What?” Mom asked, confused.
I sat across from her at the table. “Where is Dad?”
“He started walking in the mornings. Something about sunlight and vitamin D.”
“You don’t go with him?”
“Honey, your dad and I spend a lot of time together. When I have an opportunity to be alone, I take it.”
“Understandable.” I took another sip of coffee, then held the warm cup between both hands. “Do you think you could give me a ride home sometime this morning?”
“This morning, I—uh, well, I think I have something,” she said in a terrible attempt to pretend she was busy. I knew what was coming next before she even said it. “But let me call Audrey and see if she can take you home.” She reached for her phone.
“Mom,” I said in a low voice. “I do not want to see Audrey today.”
“Margot, I think it’s important that the two of you talk.”
“And we will. Not today. Please.”
She sighed. “You don’t think you have an apology to make?”
My eyes stung with the suggestion. “I don’t. Not this time. She said some horrible things to me.”
“You called her a bitch.”
“And I stand by that.” Maybe I led with my emotions, like Audrey had always accused me of, but I decided if the alternative was no emotions, like she seemed to lead with, I’d stick to my way. It’s who I was and I was done thinking she was better than me for it.
Mom held up her hands. “Fine. I’m staying out of this one. Not taking sides.” For once, I wanted her to pick a side. I wanted her to tell me that Audrey had been horrible to me yesterday and everyone knew it. But apparently she thought we were equally horrible.
“Thank you.” I brushed a crumb off the table. “So are you really busy or was that a lie?”
“It wasn’t a lie. Just a motherly fabrication to help my children.”
“Okay, motherly fabricator, I’m ready to go home whenever you’re ready to take me.”
“Give me an hour.”