Whirling inside, I pulled away. “I mean, I told you every embarrassing detail.”
“That’s why I kept quiet. I didn’t want to cause you more pain or shame. The man is slime, and you deserve better.”
“Like you?”
“Don’t say that.”
My heart didn’t beat a million miles a minute from excitement but rather apprehension. I had been wrong to think this would be fun or okay—and right to think it was way too easy. My life was meant to be twisted in complications, and this reeked of that.
I grabbed my purse. “You know what? I want to go home. I left Priss, and for what? This? I need to think.”
Mick grasped my hand gently. “I’m not going to grab you or squeeze you or keep you from what you want to do, Mar. That’s not me. But know this—I’m sorry, and right now my heart is cracking. I was damned if I said anything, and screwed if I didn’t.”
“I need to think,” I said again. “I just need to think.”
I kept saying the same thing, forgetting my words. I was a writer, so that didn’t happen often.
“I understand, but I’m not going to wait long before coming back to get you. Take your time to think. I won’t take that away from you, but know I’ll be here waiting to get you back.”
I stood and so did Mick, his hand coming to my lower back. He tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the bar and said, “I’m still driving you home.”
I simply nodded, knowing there was no point in arguing. In fact, I sat silent for the entire ride. When we were in front of my house, I debated just getting out of the car without saying another word, but I couldn’t.
Despite hurting me, Mick still meant something to me. I knew better than to stay. I’d learned that lesson with Tommy. If something was hurting me, I couldn’t stand idly by. But I didn’t know how to reconcile this whole situation.
“I don’t mean to run away,” I told Mick, not meeting his eyes. “I do need time to digest all this. Do you understand?” My voice wavered at the very end, part of me wanting to change my mind.
“I do,” Mick said with confidence. “I told you ... I won’t force you to do anything. Ever. But I care about you deeply and I’m not going to lose you.”
All I did was give him a quick nod and jump out of the car, mostly out of fear of jumping over the center console and into his lap.
Mick
One thing I knew was that my beautiful Mar needed to feel independent and in control.
Her ex had taken away that feeling from her. I knew she knew this, but I didn’t think she realized that I hadn’t given her sense of independence and control back to her. She had given them to herself.
Yes, when she decided to have an affair with me, she was grasping for control. Of course, it wasn’t her best moment or mine. Definitely not one we would get a gold star for, but it happened. Margo needed to understand all of this on her own, and maybe, just maybe she would feel that way soon.
I texted her every day, and told myself after ten days, tops, I was going to talk sense into Margo.
I’d say something like ... “Mar, how are you today? Kicking ass at work?”
Or ... “Mar, I’m thinking of your beautiful smile today as I fly off to NYC. Wish you and Priscilla (but not Tito) were with me.”
Or even better ... “Mar, I think—no, I know—I don’t want to be without you. No matter what, that won’t change. Also, you picked me!”
I knew I was making headway when I got a text back from her on day five.
I miss you.
That’s all she wrote until about fifteen minutes later, when she sent another text.
And Tito too.
Then I really knew.
I’d flown to New York and agreed to some Asian fusion concept because I was a sucker for the guy I’d affectionately begun to call Chef. His drive and passion reminded me so much of me, he was like the little brother I’d always wanted.
