“Ian.” Maggie’s voice is breathless. “This is perfect. How did you manage this?”
“With a little help from Franklin and maybe a small white lie.”
She laughs. “Oh boy, what was this lie?”
“The hotel front desk and concierge might think I’m proposing tonight. And that I’m an idiot who didn’t plan anything until the last minute.” I don’t even question how not scary the thought of that reality someday is. Except I would never be so stupid as not to plan the most perfect proposal for this woman.
Her eyes are bright with amusement and awe, and she turns back to take in the room again. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“Sit down, baby. I know you’re hungry. I’ll open the wine.”
I uncork the wine, pour us both a glass, and remove the cloche from each of our plates. The aromas of chicken, baked carrots, and mashed potatoes billow up to greet us as I sit down and we start to eat.
After a few moments, Maggie sets her fork down and stares at me over the rim of her wineglass while she takes a sip. She sets it down on the table and twists the stem. Her expression is pensive as she studies the wine in her glass.
She surprises me when she asks, “You’ve never talked about them. Do you have any family?”
Setting my fork down, I wipe my mouth as I swallow the bite of food. “I don’t. Not really.” I lean back in my chair and stretch out one leg, my heart beating a little faster. I knew I’d need to tell her eventually, but it doesn’t make this any less difficult. I toy with my fork as I explain, “I didn’t have a great childhood. I was an only child, and my dad was in and out of my life, but mostly out. He was a drunk, mean man. I never really missed him. But he came back into my mom’s life right before I graduated from high school. I was so angry that my mom let him talk her into moving in with us again. So angry in fact, that the second I graduated, I joined the military.”
I pause, not sure how she’ll take what I’m about to tell her. Though with what I was told today, I figure she, of all people, would understand. “One night, when I was back home for a visit, he was out of his mind. He’d been drinking all day, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he were on drugs too. He and my mom got into a terrible fight. I tried to stop him, but I was much smaller than I am now, and he hit me so hard, I couldn’t see straight for a few moments.”
I take a deep breath, and Maggie rises from her chairand circles the table. She climbs onto my lap, and her arms go around my shoulders. My hand finds her hip, and I pull her against me, soothed by just having her this close.
With a rough swallow, I tell her the worst part. “Before I was able to recover, he shot her.”
“Oh my god,” Maggie cries out, green eyes searching mine. Her tone carries every emotion I never let myself feel until recently. “Did you kill him?”
Her question takes me by surprise. “Unfortunately, not. He bolted, and I called nine-one-one. They found him pretty quickly. He’s currently rotting in jail, where he belongs.”
“I’m so sorry that happened. Do you miss your mom?”
I cringe. This is a question that Pamela and I have discussed extensively. “That’s complicated. My mom wasn’t exactly in the running for mother of the year. She certainly didn’t deserve to be killed, but we weren’t close.”
When Maggie’s features morph into a look of understanding and not judgment, I breathe a sigh of relief.
“That makes me even sadder for you.” She presses the sweetest kiss on my cheek, and my heartbeat goes wild.
“Don’t be sad, baby. I’m okay.” I run my thumb over her hip. “What about you? Tell me about your family.” I panic when her face falls. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to talk about them.”
She shakes her head, recovering slightly. “No, it’s okay. It’s just really hard to think about them. And being in Chicago makes me think about them even more than I usually do. I miss my family so much.” Her voice breaks at the last few words.
“I’m assuming you can’t see them because of everything?”
She sniffs. “Yeah, though our relationship started to getstrained toward the end of my and Reese’s relationship. But I never thought I would possibly never get to see them again.”
“Never?”
With a shrug, she explains, “I was told that maybe after the trial, a meeting could be arranged. But we’ll never be able to be together again like we were before. I don’t even know where they’re living. I think they moved out of Chicago.” She throws her hands up in frustration. “That’s if, and only if, Reese is actually convicted.”
“Hey.” I tuck still-damp hair behind her ear. “It’ll all be okay. He’ll get what he deserves. Franklin told me about what happened.”
Her reaction to my comment has me wanting to beat my own ass. I hadn’t intended to bring up what Franklin disclosed, but I want her to know that she can tell me anything, and I’ll support her. No matter what.
I just hope I can prove it to her.
31
Maggie
