In the car a few days later, I can tell Margo is nervous. She’s grown uncharacteristically quiet and is drumming her fingers against her leg in a quick rhythm. At a stop light, I reach over and rest my hand over hers, trying to give her some reassurance.
“Hey, look at me,” I murmur, and she does. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I know.” She swallows. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to come inside if you don’t want to,” I tell her.
She blows out a breath, firming her shoulders. “No, I want to come. You had my back with Nathaniel, now I want to have your back. That’s what you do when you love someone. You show up for them.”
Hearing her repeat my words from the other day back to me makes me smile. And hearing her say that she loves me is a fucking balm to my soul. There was a time, less than a week ago, when I thought I was never going to hear her say it again.
Thank fuck I was wrong.
“I love you too,” I tell her. Every chance I get, from now until the end of time, I’m gonna remind her of that fact. That my heart beats for her and her alone. That she is the very center of my universe, the bright light that will always guide me home.
“I know.”
She smiles at me, flipping her hand over beneath mine to lace our fingers together. I bring our joined hands to my lips and kiss her knuckles, keeping my gaze trained on the road.
We dealt with Nathaniel Osborn earlier this week, driving to his offices in Boulder and coming clean about everything. Margo admitted that she stole from him, telling him the exact amount she took, but before she could even explain why she did it, the man had a full-blown meltdown.
He yelled and stalked around his office like an angry predator, and my protective instincts immediately went into overdrive. If he’d tried to put his hands on Margo or threatened her in any way, our meeting with him would’ve gone downhill fast, and I’d probably be in jail right now.
Honestly, the man probably deserves a solid right hook to the jaw. From everything Margo has told me about him, he’s an asshole to all of his employees, treating them like shit and overworking them to the point of exhaustion. But instead of a punch to the face, I gave him a check for the amount Margo stole, plus interest—as well as an extra $200,000 as a gesture of ‘goodwill.’
It was amazing how much his attitude changed after that. He grudgingly accepted Margo’s apology, saying that he wouldn’t press charges or go public with the story of how she stole the money, although I think that was partly to protect his own reputation too. I’m sure it’s hard for his overly inflated ego to come to terms with the fact that one of his lowly employees managed to steal from him right under his nose, and I doubt he wants a lot of people knowing about it.
So Nathanial is off Margo’s back, and should stay that way for good.
That was the easy part.
Now, Margo and I are on our way to do the hard part, and as much as I appreciate that she’s brave enough to stand by my side through this… I also hate the fact that I’m about to bring her into my parents’ house.
It will be the last time, I remind myself. Ever.
Lowering Margo’s hand, I rest it on my thigh for the rest of the drive, never letting go of it. When we pull up outside my parent’s sprawling house, I take a moment to draw in a steadying breath. Then we get out of the car and head up the front steps as I fish my old house key out of my back pocket.
I grew up in this house, but it still feels strange to walk up to it as if it’s someplace I belong, when it really isn’t. But I unlock the deadbolt anyway, and the door swings open.
The house is pristine and sparsely decorated, just like I remember it being when I was a kid. A soft humming sound comes from the room to the right of the entryway, and when I peer around the corner, I see one of the maids dusting the bookshelves with little earbuds in her ears. She’s bopping along to some song as she works, and a second later, my dad’s voice comes booming down the hall.
“Sadie. Sadie! Goddammit, do you have those headphones in again?” He strides out of his office, heading toward us. “I thought I told you—”
He stops in his tracks when he sees me standing in the entryway. Margo is next to me, her hand tucked into mine, and I wonder who he’s more shocked to see—me or her.
“Noah,” he says with a frown. “What a surprise. I didn’t know you were stopping by today.”
“We need to talk,” I tell him bluntly. “It’ll only take a minute.”
His jaw tightens, his gaze flicking from me to Margo as if he’s trying to piece together what’s going on, but I don’t wait for him to ask. I stride into the living room with Margo, and the woman named Sadie ducks her head and makes a quick escape, pulling her earbuds from her ears as she goes.
“I wish you would’ve called first,” my dad tells me in that formal tone he always uses no matter what he’s saying. “I could’ve—”
“What?” I cut him off. “You could’ve used the time to come up with some other way to attempt to blackmail me? Some other way to threaten Margo to try to get me to do what you want?”
His eyes widen. I don’t know if he realized until just this second that Margo knows everything he did.
“Now, listen, Noah—”
Again, I don’t let him finish. I don’t want to hear anything this man has to say. All I want to do is say my piece and get the hell out of here.
“No, I think you should listen,” I say coolly, speaking over him. “I came here to tell you that I’m not going to be covering for Brent anymore. I’m planning on telling the world the truth, that I had nothing to do with that woman or her pregnancy, and you’re just going to have to deal with whatever comes afterward.”
For just a heartbeat, panic flashes across my father’s face. Then he scoffs. “You can’t do that.”
“I can, and I will.”
His eyes flash with anger, and he levels a finger at me. “No, you won’t. This is your brother we’re talking about! It’s our entire family, for god’s sake. We’ve got a reputation to uphold—”
“Tell that to Brent. He’s the one who fucked around on Gwen and got his mistress pregnant.”
My dad closes his eyes in frustration and brings his hand up to his forehead, as if he’s already getting a tension headache. The more vindictive side of my personality sort of hopes he is.
“We’ve been over this, son,” he says, speaking slowly. “The reason we decided to let you take responsibility—”
“The reason you decided to blackmail me into taking the fall is because Brent is the ‘perfect son,’ and I’m the one you don’t give a shit about,” I answer for him. Then I shake my head. “But it doesn’t matter. Because I’m done giving a shit what you think of me. I didn’t fuck up here. Brent did. He’s the one who hurt the family, he’s the one who betrayed the woman he loved, not me. And now you and Brent are both just going to have to suck it up and face the music.”
Margo is still standing beside me, so close that I can feel the warmth of her body, and I shift my gaze from my father’s rapidly reddening face to look down at her.
“I’m not going to let the people I care about get hurt because of mistakes my fucked up family made,” I say, speaking as much for her benefit as for my father’s now. “I love this woman. She’s it for me. She’s everything. And I want the entire world to know it. I want the world to know that I will always stand by her, no matter what.”
Despite the tension that clouds the room like a heavy smoke, Margo gives me a soft smile, her gray eyes shining.
My father scoffs under his breath, drawing my attention back to him, and when our gazes meet, he shakes his head. He’s abandoned any pretense that this is a peaceful discussion, and there’s an ugly tilt to his lips as he smiles at me.
“Is she really ‘it for you,’ son?” he asks mockingly. “Because if she was, I don’t think you’d be willing to risk her reputation to preserve yours.”
“I won’t be.” My voice hardens. “She already came clean to the man she stole the money from. We paid him back, and then some, and he’s agreed to let it go.”
My father’s head jerks backward, and he reels for a second before he recovers, crossing his arms over his chest as he growls, “Just because Nathaniel doesn’t care, that doesn’t mean your little girlfriend’s current or future employers won’t be interested in knowing that she’s a thief. I can still ruin her, son.”
“Yeah.” I nod, holding his gaze. “I guess you could. And I could ruin you.”
His eyebrows flicker. “What?”
“If you start talking, I’ll start talking,” I say calmly. “And I’ve got a lot more ammo than you do.”
“What are you talking about?”
I step closer to my father, wanting him to see the truth in my face as I speak.
“If you say a single word to anyone about Margo, I’ll tell the world every single Blake family secret you’ve got hidden away in the vault,” I warn him. “And I know there are plenty of those that you don’t want to get out.”
My dad sucks in a breath, and for the first time since our arrival, he looks truly worried.
“You wouldn’t do that,” he rasps, his voice strained. “You wouldn’t betray your family like tha—”
“My family”—I gesture to Margo—“is right there. And I’ll protect her with every last breath in my body. Do you understand?”
He’s breathing heavily now, as if he’s just climbed up the side of a mountain, and he licks his lips like he’s trying to find something else to say, some other way to threaten or cajole me. But my message must finally sink in, because after a long moment of silence, he glares at me.
“Your mother will be so disappointed in you,” he bites out.
I shake my head. “I don’t care.”
We did what we came here to do, and I can tell by the way my father is practically vibrating with anger that he knows I’m not bluffing. So I turn to face Margo again, taking her hand to lead her back outside.
But we only make it as far as the living room door before she wheels around to face my dad again. Her delicate fingers slip away from mine as she takes a few steps toward him, an expression on her face that I’ve never seen before.
“You know,” she says, her voice shaking a little. “It’s a shame you never took the time to get to know your own son, or the man he turned out to be. Because Noah is a wonderful person. He’s kind, funny, and unbelievably generous.” She laughs humorlessly. “And you had nothing to do with any of it. He grew up to be such a great guy despite having a father like you, and that makes him all the more remarkable. He could’ve grown up to be a bitter, spiteful, arrogant man, just like the one who raised him. But instead, he’s one of the best people I know.”
My heart clenches in my chest at her words, love for her welling up inside me so strongly that I almost can’t breathe. My dad is nearly as tall as I am, but there’s not an ounce of fear in her face as she stands up to him, saying things that sound like they’ve been brewing inside her for a long time. She’s a fucking force of nature, and I’m so damn lucky that she chose me.
“I pity you,” she adds, her voice dropping a little as she regards my father.
I can tell from the way his jaw clenches that this is by far what upsets him the most. He could care less about being called a bad parent, or being reminded of his arrogance, but telling him that you pity him? That’s crossing a line.
“You missed out on so much by pushing Noah away,” she continues softly, “and by making your love for him so conditional. Maybe one day you’ll see that, even though it’s too late. But it doesn’t matter. Because he’s got so many other people in his life who care about him. He doesn’t need you.”
The fury on my father’s face darkens his features, and his lips pull back in a sneer.
“I was right about you all along. I knew you were a—”
I step forward before he can finish, putting myself between him and Margo. “Watch your fucking mouth,” tell him, a growl in my voice. “That’s my future wife you’re talking about.”
His mouth snaps shut, and a feeling of grim satisfaction fills me. I glance over my shoulder at Margo, who nods to let me know she’s finished saying her piece. Then the two of us stride toward the front door, leaving my father standing alone in the living room.
As we step outside onto the wide veranda and the door closes behind us, I can feel the finality of it. That was the last time.
Margo and I are silent as we get into the car, and I can’t stop replaying everything she just said over and over in my mind as I drive. I decide to take surface streets instead of the highway, too distracted to deal with traffic, and after navigating us out of my parents’ neighborhood and onto a quiet back road, I look over at the beautiful woman beside me.
Her bottom lip is trapped between her teeth, and she glances toward me at the exact same time. Our gazes collide, and suddenly, I can’t bear the fact that she’s not in my arms. Stepping on the brake, I pull over to the side of the quiet street and cut the engine. Then I scoot my seat back and reach for her, unbuckling her seat belt and hauling her into my lap.
Her knees rest on the seat on either side of me, and although it’s a bit of an awkward fit, she doesn’t complain. She just clings to me, wrapping her arms around me as I bury my face against her neck and breathe in her sweet vanilla and honey scent.
“Thank you,” I murmur roughly, my voice breaking. “For saying all of that. For loving me. For believing in me.”
“I do,” she whispers. “I always will.”
