54. Margot
54
margot
Rae’s voice carries through my closed door as she talks to me from the hallway. “Margot, you can’t just stay in your room listening to ‘The 1’ on repeat. It’s been over a week.” She opens my door to find me lying in bed. It’s where I’ve spent most of my time lately, wrapped in a blanket and questioning my decisions.
I pull the blanket up over my head, hiding from her. “To be fair, this was one of my favorite songs before we broke up. It just hits different now.” I peek out from under the heavy material. “Oh, put on ‘Hits Different.’ That’s a good breakup song, too.”
Rae scoffs. “Come on,” she says as she tugs at the blanket.
I grip it tighter. “I’m fine! I just don’t want to do anything.” It’s a lie. I am definitely not fine, and the thought of doing anything at all has me on the verge of tears every time I try.
She lets out a huff and sits on the edge of the bed. “You are not fine!” I somehow know she has exasperated hands in the air without looking. “You’ve barely eaten, you’ve called out of work, and when was the last time you took a shower?” She tries to pull the blanket off me again, so this time I pull it down to glare at her. “I showered the day before yesterday.”
She raises her eyebrows like she’s actually impressed by that before letting out a sigh. “Look, I know this breakup is hard—really hard, but I’m worried about you. I’ve never seen you this miserable.”
To be fair, I was almost this miserable before we broke up, too. It just feels more acceptable not to hide it now. Hugging my blanket tighter, my eyes well with tears. It’s so easy for me to cry these days. You’d think my body would have run dry at some point, but nope. The waterworks are always ready and standing by. “Why am I like this?” I whisper, and Rae goes out of focus as my tears blur my vision.
She frowns, her expression softening. “You can’t be with someone you don’t trust.”
“But why is it so hard for me to trust him?”
She takes in a breath as she considers my question. When she puffs out her cheeks and blows the air out, her shoulders drop. “I don’t know. I think it’s hard to trust most people in his position. I’ve been trying to imagine Matt in his shoes, and I honestly don’t know if I could do it. I’d like to think I could, but I don’t know.”
“You’re lucky Matt never learned how to play those drums,” I say with a slight smile.
She laughs. “Could you imagine?” She shakes her head. “I can’t picture Matt as a rockstar.”
My smile falls slightly. “Jackson is already a rockstar.”
She nods slowly. “Yeah. I think he was born to be one.” Worry flashes in her expression. “Have you seen the band’s recent posts?”
I shake my head. “I had to block the account. I just kept going back to it.” I’ll never be able to move forward if I’m hung up on every little thing he’s doing.
“Well, just to warn you, they announced their first headlining tour.” She watches carefully for my reaction, but all I can do is blink.
“They did?”
“Yeah. I don’t know much about it, but that’s pretty big news, right?”
I sit up, hugging my blanket to my chest. “Huge.” My fingers grip the fabric tight enough to make it slightly painful. “Do I text him and congratulate him?”
Her eyebrows lift. “Have you two been talking?”
“No. He never texted me back.” My voice is small, and I hate that I’m so affected by that fact.
She gives me a sympathetic smile, but I can’t help feeling pity from it. “Then probably not.”
“You’re right,” I say quietly. “It just feels weird not to acknowledge it. Good for them, though. They deserve to headline.” I reach for my phone and quickly find my last text with Jackson. It doesn’t take long to find, considering I haven’t messaged anyone but Rae and Karah to let her know I couldn’t come into work twice.
Jackson:
I’m still yours, Margot.
Completely and totally yours.
Margot:
I never wanted this to happen. I’m so sorry.
Hot tears threaten to fall at the sight of those words. Maybe I should have said more, but I know if he were to text me the same thing now, I’d probably answer with the same response. What else can you say when loving someone isn’t enough?
I rest my chin on the tops of my knees and stare at the lit-up screen on my bed until it goes dark.
Rae moves to sit beside me and rubs a hand on my back. Her voice is so soft when she speaks next, I almost don’t hear her. “Do you regret it?”
Everything in my heart screams yes, but my head holds firm with a resounding no. I turn my head to look at her, resting my cheek on my knees and hugging my legs a little tighter because everything hurts. “I don’t know.”
She brushes some of my hair away from my face. “Well, I know you don’t want to hear this, but if you really want to see what life is like without him, you need to start living.”
She’s right. She’s always right.
When I don’t say anything right away, her stare turns pleading. “Come out with us tonight. The guys want to check out this new arcade bar. We don’t have to stay long, and I want you there.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “You won’t ditch me for Donkey Kong.”
I force a laugh. “Definitely will never ditch you for Donkey Kong—or any other character with a vengeance from the ’80s.”
She gives me a wry smile. “Your loyalty warms my heart.” Sobering, she puts a hand on my arm. “Come. It’ll be fun.”
“And what if I’m not capable of having fun?” My voice is barely a whisper.
She shrugs. “Then we’ll leave.”
Worry creases my brow. “You’re sure?”
“Of course, I am. We’ll leave, cry in the car, get ice cream—whatever we need to do.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Let’s hope we don’t have to do any of those things.”
“I think you’ll surprise yourself. I think once you’re outside these four walls, you’ll find your world feels a little bigger.”
“Probably.” Admitting it is hard, but I know there’s truth to her words. Since meeting him, Jackson has been like an eclipse, taking up enough space to block out everything else. The dark never got to me like it is now. Now it’s swallowing me whole .
Rae gets to her feet. “Take a shower, make yourself look hot, do whatever you need to do to feel a little more you. It’s going to be okay, okay?”
“Okay,” I say with a small smile.
She’s about to leave, but I call her back. “Rae?”
Stopping in the doorway, she turns.
“Thank you. I love you.”
She smiles. “And I love you.”
She leaves, and for the first time in over a week, I feel mildly optimistic. Maybe I can do this. Maybe there’s a version of me that can thrive without Jackson. Maybe I can rediscover a piece of her.
And maybe—just maybe— tonight will be fun.