“Meatballs, garlic bread, and burrata? This is perfect. I have the total inability to make any more decisions today. Thank you.”
She sat down at the counter.
“And”—he flipped open the pizza box that she hadn’t even noticed—“that potato pizza you like so much.”
He went into the kitchen and opened the silverware drawer.
“Don’t worry about plates,” she said. “No one needs to deal with all of that right now.”
He laughed and handed her a fork.
“Dive right in.”
But instead of doing that, she waited for him to sit down next to her.
“Thanks for bringing me dinner,” she said. “And for everything else today. It was a really long day. It was great to have you there.”
He kissed her on the cheek.
“I’m glad I could be there.”
She leaned her head against his chest for a moment. Then she sat up, cut into a meatball, and popped some of it in her mouth.
“Oh God, this is so good.”
He picked up his own fork and then started to stand up.
“Do you want wine?”
She laughed.
“I was so looking forward to relaxing and drinking wine tonight, but actually . . . no, I really don’t want any. Don’t ever tell anyone I said this, but just the thought of wine right now turns my stomach. I have poured more glasses of wine today than ever in my life, I held the same glass of wine for many hours and only took about three sips of it, and I’ve been so surrounded by the scent of wine all day that I feel like it’s coming out of my pores. All I want is ice-cold sparkling water, which, thank God, there’s plenty of.” She got up and went over to the fridge. “But you should have wine, though, if you want.”
He picked up a slice of pizza.
“I don’t need any wine. Water is fine. Though—”
She grabbed a glass out of the cabinet.
“You don’t like sparkling water, right.” She poured a glass for him and sat back down.
“I could have done that,” he protested.
She nodded.
“I know. But you brought me a whole perfect dinner, I think I could handle getting you a glass of water.”
He put an arm around her, and she relaxed against him.
“I was so . . . When Elliot came in, when you left, I was anticipating the worst.”
“I could tell,” he said.
It was such a relief to be able to talk to him about Elliot. She didn’t have to give him the backstory. She could just talk to him.
“Yeah. But that conversation with Elliot was nothing like what I expected. I thought he would be smug, gloating, sneering at me about Porter Eldridge and how he’d ruined our party.” She shook her head at herself. “Even though Elliot has never gloated about anything, that’s not how he is. Somehow, in the last few years, I built up this version of my brother who doesn’t really exist. But after today, I actually have hope that we can break through all of that.”
She told him the whole story. His eyes were on her the whole time, and his hand in hers.
“Oh, Margot,” he said, when she finished. “You must be so relieved.”
She nodded slowly.
“I think I don’t quite believe it yet?” She reached for a slice of pizza. “Maybe the relief will come, after a little while. It’s not that I don’t believe what Elliot said. I do, intellectually. But . . . it’s been so long.” She took a bite of the pizza. “I still think it’s possible this whole day was a dream, or maybe I just blacked out after our friend Porter made that scene and everything since then is just my fantasy, and I’m going to wake up on the floor of the barn soon with Elliot mad at me and with no delicious meatballs in front of me.”
Luke shook his head.
“The floor of the barn? Come on, Margot—if you’d passed out because of Porter, Taylor and I would have made sure you made it to the couch in your office, at least. Give us some credit! I can’t believe you’d think we would leave you on the floor.”
She bent forward and kissed him softly on the lips.
“You’re right, you would never do that,” she said. “Now I’m wondering if I passed out in the shower the morning that you quit, and everything since then has been a dream.” She thought for a moment. “Or maybe it goes back further than that, and I got in a car accident on my way home from the winery that Sunday night, and I’ve been in a coma ever since, so you are entirely a figment of my imagination.”