to look at her. The older woman looks at Margot kindly, shaking her head. “Honey, he’s the beating heart of this place. It was his idea, from conception to execution. He’s a magician on the computers, and he even helped us back in New York to update our systems. He doesn’t work here. He created it.”
I swallow thickly. I don’t have the courage to look at Margot to see her reaction, so I just stare at Vicky.
Vicky, ever sharp, tilts her head as she looks at Margot. “He told me he had a friend who pushed him away after opening up about her diagnosis. If I were a betting woman, I’d say that friend was you. I’d also say that ‘friend’ isn’t exactly accurate.”
I can hear Margot’s breath speed up. I can sense every tiny movement that she makes, even though I’m not looking at her.
Touching her hair, cradling her bump, even blinking faster as she takes in Vicky’s words.
Finally, I force myself to look at her.
“You did this for me?” Margot whispers.
My heart races. How is it possible to love one woman this much? It makes everything difficult, even answering a simple question.
I nod, struggling to force the word out. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“To show you that I wasn’t afraid.”
Margot’s bottom lip trembles and her eyes fill with tears.
She’s only inches away from me, but the distance is still too much. I clear my throat to try to dislodge the boulder that seems to have taken up residence inside it. “Is it too much?”
Then, Margot laughs.
Not a polite laugh. Not a guarded laugh.
A real, genuine laugh.
Open-mouthed, eyes shining, stomach heaving, big, real belly-laugh.
She shakes her head. “It’s not too much. No one has ever done anything like this for me before.” Taking a step toward me, Margot puts her hand to my cheek. “This is…”
Margot’s voice trails off as her eyes shine. I put my palm over hers, gulping as I try to find the words to tell her how I feel.
“Margot, I’m not afraid of your illness. I’ve learned as much as I can learn in the past couple of months, and I’ll continue to learn. Ask Vicky how much work I’ve done!” I inhale, curling my fingers around her hand. “I want to show you that I can do it. I can be by your side and support you. I won’t be giving up my life for you. I’ll be gaining my life back. I have nothing without you.”
She’s trembling. The love of my life puts a hand to her baby bump, taking a shaky breath as she closes her eyes. A tear rolls down her cheek.
“Dante…”
“No. Margot, listen to me. Look at me.” I wait until she opens her eyes. I cup her cheeks, hoping that I can make her understand the strength of my emotion. “I love you, Margot. I know you think that I’d be sacrificing too much by being with you, but I’m sacrificing more by being without you. Let me be by your side. Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved. Let me choose you.”
Margot’s bottom lip trembles as she inhales. She stares at me, her brows arching. I can feel the tension inside her ratcheting up, and I stroke her cheeks with my thumbs.
“Margot,” I whisper. “Let me love you.”
“I’m scared.” Her voice is a breath. A whisper.
“Of what?”
“That you’ll hate me. That you’ll regret it.” Margot sucks her bottom lip between her teeth before letting out a sigh. “That you’ll leave.”
My heart breaks all over again when I see how much I’ve hurt her. When I pushed her away after finding out about Beckett, I drove a wedge between us that seems almost impossible to overcome. I showed her that I wasn’t strong enough to handle what life would throw at us. I told her that she wasn’t enough.
I let out a breath, leaning my forehead against hers.
“I won’t.”
Those two words don’t seem like enough, but how many words would be? What else can I say, except the truth?
I won’t hate her. Never. How could I?
I won’t regret it. The only regret I have is pushing Margot away.
I won’t leave. Never, ever, ever. Not in a million years. Not even if she pushes me away for the next decade. For the next century. I’m here. Always.
Margot puts her hands against my chest, pulling her head away from mine to look into my eyes. I meet her gaze, staring into the eyes of the woman I adore.