Margot chuckled at Elle’s out-of-control enthusiasm. “It sounds perfect, Elle.”
“It is, it really is.” Elle gave a happy-sounding sigh. “Darcy’s on the phone with Brendon right now, and I know I should’ve probably called my parents but . . . you’re the first person I wanted to tell.”
A knot formed in Margot’s throat, the backs of her eyelids stinging. “I’m glad you called.” She swallowed before her voice could crack. “I’m—like I said, I’m so happy for you.” She laughed. “Fuck. I mean, damn, Elle. You’re engaged.”
Engaged to be married. Holy shit.
Margot’s bedroom door inched open and Cat peeked inside. She inspected her surroundings with curious sniffs as she wandered further into the room, detouring to Margot’s closed closet door and smacking it with her paw. When it didn’t budge, Cat headed over to Margot’s bed. Margot tucked her feet up under her and frowned when Cat let out a demanding little trill.
“Margot?”
“Sorry.” She cringed. “I, um, got distracted. You were saying?”
“I asked if you’ll be my Maid of Honor, silly.” Elle laughed. “Darcy’s making faces at me—hold on.” The line went muffled, Elle’s voice distant. “Sorry, Darcy says I should’ve asked you in a note or a gift box or something.”
“Oh!” She pressed the heel of her hand into her chest as if she could massage away the ache inside. “I, uh, don’t need a gift box.”
“I could buy you a box of wine?”
Margot laughed. “I won’t say no to wine.”
“So?” Elle asked, sounding impatient but mostly just eager.
“So of course.” Warmth bloomed between her ribs. “I’d be honored.” Her lips quirked. “Ba-dum-tss.”
Just like she’d hoped, Elle chuckled. “I’m glad. Oh, this is going to be so great. It’s March, and obviously nothing’s set in stone, but Darcy and I were thinking about a winter wedding, so that would mean . . .”
Cat crouched low and leaped onto Margot’s bed, landing gracefully on all fours, the duvet barely depressing beneath her weight, which was made of mostly fur and sass. She stomped around, pawing at Margot’s pillows before stopping directly in front of Margot.
And staring.
“Mar? Are you still there?”
Margot sighed. “Yeah, I’m so sorry. I am. I’m just—this cat keeps staring at me and I don’t know if it’s a friendly stare or an I want to eat your face look.” Margot had woken up at four in the morning to the unsettling feeling of being watched. She’d rolled over, and sure enough, somehow Cat had found her way into Margot’s room, Margot’s closed room, hopped up onto Margot’s bed, lain down, and proceeded to purr like an engine. Whether that meant Cat was warming up to her or simply studying her, lying in wait for the right moment to attack, Margot had no fucking clue. “But I’m totally listening.”
Elle went quiet before clearing her throat. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound a little . . . off.”
Off. Fuck. Margot dropped her head into her hand and swallowed a sigh. The last thing she wanted was for her—her weirdness and messy, all-over-the-place feelings to get out. She was dealing, working through them. Talking to Olivia had helped, but Margot wasn’t going to magically feel less like her friends were leaving her behind, and it definitely wasn’t going to happen overnight. It was going to take time and, honestly, seeing proof that just because everyone was getting married didn’t mean everything would change.
For Elle’s sake, for the sake of their friendship, Margot needed to pull her head out of her ass, stat. “You want to know the truth?”
Elle sucked in a sharp breath. “Hit me with it.”
“Darcy already told me she was planning to propose. She pulled me aside and told me after the cake tasting, so—so that’s why I sound off. I was trying to act surprised, and you know me, I can’t act for shit.”
Elle laughed, obviously relieved. “You had me worried for a second. Geez. Okay, I can see that happening. So you’ve known since Saturday?”
“Mm-hmm.” Margot scratched her jaw, eyes flitting to Cat and away. Cat kept staring, little head cocked slightly to the side, her small body forming a squat triangle as she sat. Her front paw reached out, patting the bed in front of Margot’s knee, and she meowed. Margot frowned. “Look, I absolutely want to chat more about this, okay? Maybe when we’re up at the lodge tomorrow for the bachelor-bachelorette trip, yeah? We can sip spiked cider and you can tell me all about it. Right now, I’ve got to figure out what this cat wants.”