We find our releases together, coming as we look into each other’s eyes. Tears form in mine at the intimacy. I’ve never experienced something so overwhelming and perfect in my life.
“Move in with me, Margo. I don’t want you here temporarily. That will never be enough.”
My heart screams ‘yes, yes, yes!’ but my mind says I should think about it at least a little… my heart wins, and I practically shout my yes. I’m so excited and happy that he wants me and not just as a temporary thing to appease his father.
We make love for the rest of the night. He takes me over and over again, making sweet love to me each time. Several times I nearly tell him how much I love him, but I bite my tongue. Moving in together has to be enough… for now.
10
Margo
“How do you have so much shit?” Prue complains as she carries another box from the moving truck into Amos’ garage… well, my garage. A little thrill shoots through me at the reminder that I’m moving in with him—today!
“Lani, put that fucking box down right now!” Torin yells from across the yard.
She gives him the finger over her back as she carries the small box of yarn from my failed attempts at learning to crochet. “I mean, that man would bitch about me lifting a pillow right now.”
“I think it’s sweet,” Ana says with a sigh. She’s always been a romantic. I’ve seen the way she looks at Torin and Lani… even me and Amos… she gets this dreamy, almost sad expression.
It takes an hour to unload the truck full of boxes. Most of my furniture was donated to Goodwill. The garage is full, and it’s a little overwhelming, but I look forward to merging my things with Amos’.
I hug the girls, and they all head off to Lani’s bookstore for “book club.” I opted out of today’s club because I want to get a head start on unpacking. I’m just getting ready to grab the first box when I hear Amos and Torin talking just outside.
“It’s insane… the whole marriage thing. All of this is crazy,” Amos says. “I must be insane…”
Tears instantly well up in my eyes. I don’t stick around to hear what else he says. I can’t. I drop the box I’m holding and rush to the bathroom. I barely get the door closed before the tears start falling. My heart breaking into a million pieces.
Yes, I know our brief “marriage” was a sham, but Amos didn’t seem to think it was ridiculous at the time. He even mentioned several times how good his grandmother’s ring looked on me. Does he just not want to get married? Or does he just not want to marry me? If that’s the case and marrying me is ridiculous, why would he have me move in? Yeah, we haven’t said ‘I love you,’ yet, but the sentiment has been there in the way we make love. The way we touch. All the little things we do, the I love you is unspoken but there in dozens of ways.
He’s been showing me how he feels from the start. Did I completely read him wrong all these weeks? I thought I knew what he’s feeling… maybe I’ve been very mistaken.
Once I hear Torin leave, I emerge from the bathroom feeling wrung dry. Amos seems over the moon happy when he tugs me against his chest and kisses me. I hardly hold myself together but manage to return his kiss, if a little less enthusiastically than usual. He gives me a confused look when he pulls away as if he knows something is wrong but can’t put his finger on what.
“I need to go to the bakery. I completely forgot about a huge order that I need to get a jump start on,” I say, making up a loosely veiled excuse to leave.
“I can come help,” Amos offers with a happy smile.
I quickly shake my head. “No, I’ve got it.”
My words come out harsher than I meant them to. He looks hurt and confused by my rejection. Maybe I imagined the conversation with Torin because he’s not acting like a man who thinks this whole thing is ridiculous. But no, I know exactly what I heard. I also know that I need to be alone right now to work through my emotional rollercoaster.
The bakery is dark and quiet, exactly what I need to get my head on straight. There isn’t any order to prep for. I feel slightly guilty for the white lie, but then I remember Amos’ words, and the guilt disappears. He’s been lying to me by omission this whole time. I know two wrongs don’t make a right, but this is about self-preservation at this point.
I decide to go ahead and start baking for the day. I begin with bread. I could definitely use a little physical release in the form of kneading the heck out of some dough. By the time the bread is in the oven, I don’t feel any better. My heart is still raw, and my eyes burn from the hundreds of tears I’ve shed. I pull myself up on the counter and open the container of leftover cookies from yesterday and start eating.
Even though I know they are delicious, the cookies taste like cardboard in my mouth. It’s not fair. Heartache is supposed to make all food taste good. That’s why binge eating is a thing after breakups, right? Not that I would know. This is my first time experiencing this level of hurt.
At midnight my phone starts ringing. Of course it’s Amos. He’s probably calling to see when I’ll be home. Which brings on
