Margot chuckled. “Are you calling me a nice thing?”
“The nicest,” Olivia said, swaying close, knees bumping Margot’s.
Margot bit the inside of her lip, trying not to smile. “I’m not very nice.”
“No,” Olivia agreed. Her smile softened, subdued, but no less sweet. “But I like you anyway. I like you a lot. I—like sounds trivial for the way I feel about you.”
Margot’s heart squeezed. “Ditto. Which is why I’m saying all of this.” Still holding Olivia’s hand, she sucked in a deep breath. “Forget I brought up Brad. Let’s say you get home and your dad wants you to move back to Enumclaw. What would you do?”
Olivia jerked her head back and frowned. “What kind of question is that?”
Margot’s teeth scraped against the inside of her cheek. “Just answer the question.”
“Dad would never ask me to move back.” Olivia argued, continuing to frown. “He’s the one who practically pushed me out the door, remember?”
Margot stared, loosening her grip when Olivia winced. Without meaning to, she’d strangled Olivia’s fingers. “And you seriously don’t see how that’s an issue you need to address? You don’t need anyone’s permission to follow your dreams. You don’t need anyone’s permission to be happy.”
“Issue.” Olivia scoffed softly and tugged her hand free. “Gee, I didn’t realize you were my therapist now.”
Margot’s jaw worked from side to side. A hot flush of frustration wound its way up her throat, making her dizzy. “I’m not trying to be your therapist, and that wasn’t an indictment. Maybe this is novel for you, having someone who cares about you for once, but this is what it looks like. Maybe it’s not always pretty or fun, but it’s . . .” Real. “It’s what it is. So just answer the question. Forget about your dad asking you; if you go home and you find out your dad isn’t okay, what’s your plan? What are you going to do?”
Olivia crossed her arms, frown deepening into a scowl. “I would . . .” Her lips folded together, shoulders rising in a helpless looking shrug. “I don’t know, okay? The truth is, I don’t know what I’d do. I can’t just answer on the spot like this. I’d have to think about it. But I don’t have time for this right now. I need to go.”
“You can’t.” Margot blurted, immediately cringing at her volume. “You can’t just leave.”
Olivia froze, expression shuttering, the look in her eyes frosty. “I can’t? No offense, but you don’t get to tell me what I can or can’t do, Margot. I got enough of that from Brad to last a lifetime, and I don’t need it from you, too.” Her nostrils flared. “Are you going to tell me what kind of books I can read next? The sort of company I can keep? What sort of job I can have?”
Margot pulse sped, white noise filling her ears. “Don’t compare me to him.”
“Don’t act like him, and I won’t,” Olivia bit out.
“I’m not telling you what you can or can’t do. I’m not saying you shouldn’t go see your dad if that’s what you feel like you need to do. Do I think it makes more sense to wait until he calls or to drive down on Sunday? Yes. But I’m not trying to stop you. I’m just trying to figure out where your line is in the sand. What happens the next time you think someone needs you? What if next time, it’s not the night before the rehearsal but the night before the wedding? Or the day of? At what point do you drop something big, give up on something that matters to you because you think what someone else needs is more important? At what point do you leave and not come back?”
Olivia pressed the heels of her hands against her forehead and groaned. “I’m not moving back to Enumclaw, Margot. I’m not going anywhere.”
Maybe not now, but could Margot count on Olivia to come back the next time? Could she count on Olivia always coming back or had she been right? Was it always only ever a matter of time before she lost her?
She bit down on the inside of her cheek, hoping that brief flash of pain would banish the burning at the back of her eyes, the sting inside her nose. She sucked in a rasping breath. “I just got you back, and I don’t want to always be worried about whether I’m going to lose you. Whether you’re going to leave.”
Olivia’s frown had softened leaving only a furrow between her brows. “You need to trust that when I say I’m coming back, I will. And if you can’t”—her throat jerked—“maybe that’s an issue you need to address.”