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“Do you feel like you are obligated just because you saved her from the storm?”
“No.” I swallow hard. “It’s not that. She’s just…just different.”
“Well, that’s clearly true.” Margot’s biting tone isn’t lost on me.
“That’s not what I mean.” I give Margot a hard look. “It’s not just her; it’s me too. I’m different when I’m with her.”
“How so?”
I close my eyes and try to find the words while simultaneously trying to ignore the awkwardness of this whole conversation. I shouldn’t be discussing any of this with my ex, but I don’t have much of a choice. I try to come up with something that will at least make sense to her.
“I was empty before.” I inhale deeply and then stare straight into Margot’s dark eyes and tap my temple with two fingers. “I had a lot of shit up here”—I move my fingers to my chest—“but nothing in here.”
I watch Margot’s face as she closes her eyes and nods slightly. This information isn’t news to her.
“She's changed that.”
“Yeah. She has.”
I watch as Margot turns away for a moment. Her throat bobs as she swallows, trying to hold in her emotions, but I see them all. Anger, sadness, and jealousy all cross her face as I sit, unable to offer any consolation. I should feel bad about doing this to her, but I can’t. Sometimes I think that I’m just not capable of relating to people on an emotional level.
“How?” she asks in a surprisingly calm tone.
“I don’t know,” I tell her. “In the beginning, it was the same.”
“The same as what?”
“The same as it was with you—as it’s always been with anyone I meet. All I could think about was getting away from her, but I couldn’t. With the storm, there was nowhere to go. After a while, it was different. It was…fuck, I don’t know. I can’t put any of this into words.”
“You became comfortable with her in a way you never could with me.”
I glance up at Margot, expecting to see anger on her face, but there is none. I nod slowly.
“This is very new for you, isn’t it?” she says.
“Yes,” I reply. “And I’m not about to let that guy take her away from me.”
“I can see that.” Margot gives me a tight-lipped smile. “I’m happy for you, Bishop. I really am. I’m sad as well because this is what I wanted to see from you when we were together, but it wasn’t meant to be.”
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else I can say.
“You don’t need to be, but I appreciate the sentiment.” She stands up and sighs. “I need to finish up. The team will be here soon.”
“Oh yeah,” I say, glad for the change of topic. “Gotta be ready for the tournament.”
“I think we have a decent chance of placing this year,” she says. “
Do you want to stay? You’re always welcome on my team.”
I stare at the woman who took me in when I had nowhere to go and consider everything she’s done for me. I’ve hurt her more than once and seem to be pretty good at continuing to hurt her, yet she keeps allowing me to be involved in her life. She has always been a genuinely good person.
Maybe that was part of the problem between us. I never deserved Margot, and I knew it.
“Nice of you to offer, but you know I suck at it.” I give her a half smile. “All that waving around—I just kept dropping the coin.”
“You were always entertaining as a dancer when the drums played.” Margot tries to keep a straight face, but she can’t. I know she’s remembering the first time she took me to a drum dance and how I managed to fall on my face, trying to keep up with everyone. She smiles broadly, and for a brief moment, I miss being with her.
“Yeah, no thanks.”
