“Right.” Gwen’s mouth curved in a smile that was more tender than amused. “Then we’ll sway.”
Maggie eased herself onto the bench instead, patting the space beside her. “Or we could sit and pretend. Same effect, less chance of me face-planting into the lake.”
Gwen grinned and sat. The wood creaked under their combined weight. Out beyond the glow of the lights, the lake stretched into darkness, endless and still.
“Wasn’t today perfect?” Maggie asked after a moment, her voice quiet, almost reverent.
Gwen swallowed, staring at the shimmer of light on water. “Almost.”
Maggie tilted her head, studying her. “Almost?”
Gwen’s throat went dry. She twisted her watch on her wrist, the familiar ritual grounding her, and then forced the words out. “Listen. I have something to tell you.”
Maggie’s expression sharpened, but she didn’t interrupt.
“I quit my job,” Gwen said. Then amended, “Kind of. I think.”
The words tumbled into the night air, heavy and light all at once.
Maggie’s eyebrows shot up. “You what?”
“I… turned down the Principal Architect promotion.” Gwen inhaled slowly, fighting to keep her voice steady. “I asked for a leave of absence instead. Indefinite. I don’t know if they’ll take me back.”
The silence stretched between them, broken only by the water lapping against the dock. Gwen forced herself to keep going, the way she’d rehearsed in her head on the flight, in the car, pacing in the airport terminal. Maggie just watched her, face half in shadow.
“I’ve spent years building everything around work. And I told myself it was for us — for stability, for the house, for the kids, for you. But the truth is, it was for me. For my pride. For the part of me that thought being indispensable meant being loved.” She finally turned, meeting Maggie’s wide, startled eyes. “And it cost me everything. It cost me you.”
Maggie blinked at her, eyes wide, lips parted like she was about to speak but the words didn’t come. For once, Maggie, who always had a quip, a deflection, a half joke at the ready, was speechless.
Gwen pressed her palms against her thighs, willing herself not to look away. The string lights above them hummed faintly, casting Maggie’s face in warm shadow, and something in Gwen broke open.
“I can’t keep doing it the way I was,” she said, the words tumbling now, raw and unedited. “I kept telling myself I was sacrificing for us, but it wasn’t a sacrifice. It was avoidance. I made my work the excuse for every time I wasn’t there for you. Every time you needed me and I thought another late night at the office mattered more.”
Maggie’s throat worked, but still, no words.
Gwen twisted her watch again, the one Maggie had given her, the metal digging into her skin. “When Melinda looked atme in that meeting, I realized she wasn’t my friend. She never had been. You were. You’re the only one who’s ever been. And I let you carry everything alone while I buried myself in blueprints and told myself that was love. That terrifies me. I don’t want to live for my work. I want to live life with you.”
Her voice caught, but she forced it steady. “I don’t want a corner office or a title. I want mornings with the kids. I want you to call me in the middle of the day just because. I want to sit on a dock with you and not feel like I’m stealing time from something else.”
She exhaled, long and shaky, and finally looked directly at her. “I love you, Maggie. I always have. And if there’s still a chance for us, even the smallest one, I want to come home. Not to the house. To you.”
The lake was so still it felt like it was holding its breath with them. Gwen’s heart pounded, waiting for Maggie to say something, anything. Waiting to find out if she’d just given everything up for nothing.
CHAPTER 33
Maggie
It waseverything she’d ever wanted Gwen to say.
Every single thing Maggie had dreamed of hearing in every fight, every lonely night, every quiet hour she’d spent convinced she’d never get it. Now Gwen was sitting beside her under the soft buzz of string lights, voice steady and raw, saying the words like she meant them. Maggie believed her, believed that she really did mean everything she was saying.
Maggie blinked hard, but it was useless. The tears came fast, spilling hot down her cheeks. She tried to laugh, to wave it off, but instead she hiccuped, choked on a sob, and suddenly she was crying so hard she couldn’t breathe.
“Whoa, hey—” Gwen’s hand was on her shoulder instantly, her face tight with alarm. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
Maggie swiped at her face with the heel of her palm, shaking her head. “No — I—” Her voice broke. “It’s just?—”
More tears, more hiccups. Words came out mangled, soggy, impossible. “You —snff— said all the things —hkkh— always wanted?—”
