Margot snagged a charcoal-colored jacket off the rack that looked like it had promise and, bummer. Not her size. It was beginning to look like her only option was the awful green number. “Sure. I considered it.”
And decided against it.
Elle stared, face twisted in disappointment. “Margot.”
“Olivia is living down the hall from me, Elle. She’s Brendon’s wedding planner. Do you realize how messy it would be if things between us went south?”
“She’s only Brendon’s wedding planner for the next week. Not even a week.”
“She’s still going to be my roommate,” Margot argued. The lump in her throat swelled. “She’s still going to be my friend.”
Elle frowned. “What are you actually worried about here?”
Margot drummed her fingers against her thighs. “I don’t—I feel like I just got Liv back and . . . I don’t want to lose her. I don’t want the same thing that happened before to happen again. Me wanting Liv and Liv wanting . . . not me. I mean, do you realize how awkward it would be, sharing an apartment, after pouring out my feelings and having Liv tell me she doesn’t want the same? That this is all she wants? There’s no way we could live together.”
She wasn’t sure their friendship could withstand the same blow twice. Her heart definitely couldn’t.
“You’re making a lot of assumptions, Margot. Don’t you think you should talk about it? About what happened then and what’s happening now?”
That sounded like the worst idea, the exact opposite of what Margot wanted.
Communication was the cornerstone to any relationship—yeah, she got that. Margot had read enough books and fanfiction, watched enough movies to know the pitfalls of miscommunication, the frustration of watching two people flounder simply because they failed to speak their minds. If she had a dollar for every time she’d wanted to reach through the screen and throttle someone, to scream and say just fucking talk about it or just tell her how you feel, she’d be able to afford those ridiculous leather boots she’d been eyeing in the window display at Nordstrom, praying for them to go on sale.
Reality was different. Talking, sharing, like so many things, was easier said than done.
“Look, normally I am totally on team talk about it. But it’s so much easier to tell someone to talk than to actually do it. The problem isn’t opening my mouth and saying the words—that’s the easy part. It’s—it’s what comes after. When the words are out there, and I can’t take them back. Right now, I’m living out the Schr?dinger’s cat of relationship probability. I am half hope, half agony until proven otherwise.”
“How is living in relationship limbo any better?” Sweet, sweet Elle stared, eyes wide and expression guileless.
Margot raked her fingers through her hair, tugging on the ends. “It’s not.” She sighed. “You’re right. It’s sucks. I’m just—”
“Scared?” Elle smiled gently.
She slipped her hands beneath her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “Terrified,” she said, dropping her arms back to her sides.
Elle reached out and grabbed Margot’s hand, squeezing hard. The pressure in Margot’s chest lessened. “I promise that nothing that will happen will be as bad as the worst-case scenario you’ve imagined.”
Margot huffed. “Hate to break it to you, Elle, but that’s less reassuring than you think. You underestimate my ability to catastrophize.”
“I’m not going to say your worries are unfounded. I’m not inside Olivia’s head. I don’t know how she feels, but I see the way she looks at you and . . . I think you should just tell her how you feel. Let her know what’s going on inside your head, because I love you, Margot, but right now what you’re doing isn’t fair to either of you. You’ve got to tell her what you want.”
Once again, Elle was spot-on. What Margot was doing wasn’t fair, saying she wanted one thing but acting like she wanted another. Margot’s breath caught, and it hurt like hell to swallow. Olivia deserved better than this, being unwittingly caught up in Margot’s emotional whiplash.
Elle was right. Margot needed to tell Olivia how she felt. That she wanted more.
After the wedding.
Elle could tell her she was worrying for nothing until she turned blue in the face, but there was no way for Elle to know that for sure. To know that Olivia wanted Margot in all the ways Margot wanted her.
For all Margot knew, everything could go sideways. That wasn’t a risk she could take with Brendon’s wedding days away. He was counting on her, and Olivia’s career hinged on the success of the wedding.