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‘What happened after that?’ he asked after a moment. His arms were still around her, her cheek still against his chest.
‘I was put into foster care—a few different families.’
She spoke diffidently, not wanting to admit all the terrible details. The foster mother who had dragged her by the hair into the bathroom because she’d said Margo was dirty. The family who had left her, at fourteen years old, in front of the council offices with nothing but a cardboard suitcase because they hadn’t wanted her any more.
‘It was tough for a few years,’ she allowed. ‘I missed Annelise so much... I acted out. I was hard to deal with.’ And so people had chosen not to deal with her.
‘When I was sixteen,’ she continued after a moment, ‘I finally calmed down. I stayed with a family for a year. They were good to me. They helped me find a job, saw me settled.’
‘Are you still in touch with them?’
‘No. It wasn’t that kind of a relationship. They had a lot of different foster kids. I was just one of many. We wrote letters for a while, but...’ She gave a little shrug. ‘I am grateful to them. And really,’ she continued quickly, ‘I don’t blame anyone except myself. The people who fostered me all tried their hardest. They didn’t have to take children in. They were doing their best. And I really was difficult. I can’t blame anyone but myself for that.’
‘But you were a child,’ Leo protested, ‘in an incredibly difficult situation.’
‘Yes, but I was mature for my age. I’d had to be. I could have...controlled myself.’ Except she hadn’t wanted to. She’d been wild with grief, wanting and needing to strike out. To hurt someone as she’d been hurting.
‘And this is why you’re so afraid now of something happening to the baby?’ Leo said slowly. ‘Because of what happened to Annelise?’
She nodded. ‘I know it’s not rational, but everyone I know has left me at one time or another. And Annelise...losing Annelise was by far the worst. I don’t think I could survive something like that again, Leo. I really don’t think I could.’
‘You won’t have to.’
‘But you can’t know—’
‘I don’t have a crystal ball to predict the future, no.’ Leo took her chin his hand, turning her face so he could look her in the eye. ‘But do you believe me, Margo, when I tell you I will do everything in my power—absolutely everything—to keep you and our child safe and healthy? I won’t let you down, I swear to you. You can trust me.’
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, and although she didn’t know if she had the strength to believe him she was still glad he’d said it.
Then, simply because it felt right, she leaned forward, closing the small space between them, and brushed her lips with his. It was barely more than a peck—a kiss that wasn’t sexual or even romantic, but something else entirely. Something deeper and more tender.
Leo stilled under her touch, and then he eased back, his expression serious. ‘Thank you for telling me. For trusting me that much.’
‘I’m sorry I didn’t before.’
‘Like you said, we didn’t have that kind of relationship.’
And did they now? Margo still didn’t know. She didn’t know what she was capable of, or what Leo wanted.
‘You should rest,’ Leo said as he stood up from the window seat. ‘It’s been a very long couple of days.’
‘Yes...’
But she didn’t feel tired, and after he’d left she paced the room restlessly, her mind starting to seethe with doubt and worry. She’d just unloaded a huge amount of emotional baggage onto Leo. When they’d struck their business deal he hadn’t expected to have to cope with all that. What if he decided she was too much work? Or if he withdrew emotionally rather than deal with all the neurotic fears Margo had just confessed? Going back to being businesslike would be even harder and more painful now she’d confessed so much.
Tired with the circling questions she knew she couldn’t answer, she decided to keep busy instead of simply pacing and worrying. She went to the adjoining bedroom that was meant to be a nursery and started sketching ideas to transform it into a space for a baby.
It had been weeks since she’d exercised her mind or her creativity, and it felt good to think about something other than the current anxieties that revolved around Leo and the baby. To remember that she’d had a career, one she’d enjoyed, and could still put to use, if only in this small way.
And as she sketched and planned she felt her uncertainties fall away, as if she were shedding an old skin, and she knew that she wanted to move forward from the past, from the pain. She wanted to move forward with Leo and have a real marriage. A loving one.
