Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Sweets, you didn’t fail.” I reach my hand across the table, covering hers.
“I messed up.” She swipes a rare tear from her cheek. “I fumbled this whole thing.”
“Hindsight is twenty-twenty.”
“I get so focused, so obsessed sometimes, and it gives me this tunnel vision. It brings out the worst in me,” she says. “I don’t want to be that person anymore.”
Watching my sister soften and fold is like watching a fiery comet fade into the night sky. Margaux isn’t perfect, not by any stretch, but I’d hate for her to lose her light.
“When Ethan’s mom looks at me,” she continues, “there’s so much love, so much hope, so much sweetness. And when I see how excited she is about the babies, about being a grandmother, it made me realize that I’ve been focused on the wrong things all this time.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being ambitious.”
“There is if it costs you everything,” she says. “I don’t know how many relationships I threw away because their schedule didn’t mesh with my work schedule, or my drive intimidated them, or they weren’t on my level professionally. Perfectly good guys. Men who were crazy about me. Men who brought out better sides of me. And I threw them all away because they didn’t fit into my perfect little box.”
“I love that you’re realizing this now and not when it’s too late.”
“Ethan,” she says, her lower lip trembling. I brace myself for bad news. “Ethan is wild about me, and I don’t know why.”
“Wait, what? I thought you always said he was a playboy? That he refused to settle down?”
She shakes her head. “It was me. I was the one who refused to settle down. Ethan wanted more, he wanted all of me. And in this messed-up way, I saw that as a red flag. I mean, who in their right mind would want me? There’s got to be something wrong with him. At least that’s what I told myself.”
She swipes at another tear.
“And I couldn’t be more wrong,” she says. “He’s pretty much perfect. And his mom. She’s the icing on the cake. I don’t deserve them.” Margaux’s hand rests on her belly. “But they make me want to be a better person. The babies deserve the rest of me, not the scraps of me they’d get outside of my nine-to-five.”
“I have no doubt you’ll make that happen,” I say. “You’ve always done anything you’ve ever set your mind to.”
“Right.” She offers a bittersweet smile. “That’s the plan, anyway. Ethan and I are moving in together, and I’m going to spend the next few months reading every baby book I can get my hands on, going to therapy, and trying to figure out how to be someone who doesn’t suck.”
“For the record, you’ve done some sucky things, but you don’t suck.”
“You’ve always been kind to me, even when I didn’t deserve it. I just want you to know that I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. I’m sorry things didn’t work out with you and Roman.”
Sitting straight, I say, “Actually, on the contrary. I was with him last night.”
Margaux cocks her head. “Wait, what?”
“Apparently the two of you met last weekend? Whatever you said made him see things differently, I guess?” I still don’t quite know the full context of their conversation. All I know is what Antonio shared, which wasn’t much. I’m sure Roman would fill me in if I asked, but we were a little too . . . busy . . . last night.
“Really.” She sits back, staring off as if she’s trying to remember what was said. “Well, that’s awesome . . . I have no idea what I said, but I’m glad I said the right things for a change.”
“He wants me to meet his daughters,” I say. “Not soon, but soon-ish. Maybe in the coming month? I have no idea how that’s going to go . . .”
I imagine if it doesn’t go well, that could complicate things.
His girls are his entire world.
“They’re going to love you,” Margaux says, her voice warm as a smile claims her mouth. “I mean, how could they not? You’re literally one of the nicest people in the world—and you know I rarely give compliments.”
“Thanks.” I chuckle.
“No, really. I mean that. Every word of it. They’re going to love you,” she says. “Remember when you told me everything always works out? I’m paraphrasing, but you told me that last month.”
I nod. “I remember.”
“Well, it’s happening,” she says. “It’s happening right now. Everything is working out for both of us in their own ways.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified.” She glances at her totes.
“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”
I never imagined in all my life that a single summer would send us on separate trajectories—though I suppose it was only a matter of time.