Chapter 11: Margo's Door

I set the box down in her hall and did not move.

"Say it," Margo said. "Whatever you came here to say."

"You wrote me one letter."

"Yes."

"One. Then you let four years go by. I kissed her goodbye sixty times, Margo. I painted a nursery."

"I know."

"You could have knocked on my door any day of those four years."

"I could have."

She didn't defend herself.

She stood in her gray T-shirt, barefoot on the cold floor, and let it land.

"I was afraid of Lorna," she said. "And when I stopped being afraid, I was afraid you'd hate me. You do. That's fair."

"I don't hate you."

"Then what is it?"

I crossed the hall in two steps.

I took her face in both hands and kissed her hard.

She made a low sound against my mouth and her hands grabbed my coat.

Our teeth knocked once.

Neither of us stopped.

"Our terms," she said breathlessly. "You said when the baby comes, we're done."

"The baby isn't mine."

"Caleb."

"The terms are void."

I pushed the door shut with my heel.

She pulled my coat off my shoulders and let it drop.

I lifted the gray shirt over her head.

She wore only her panties under it.

Her breasts were heavy and pale, her nipples already tight in the cold air, and I put my mouth on the left one and sucked until she gasped.

"Fuck," she said, and her fingers went into my hair.

I backed her across the hall to the kitchen table and sat her on the edge of it.

I pushed her thighs wide and looked.

Her panties were wet through.

"You've been like this all night?"

"Since you stood up in that dining room and called her a liar to her face."

I hooked my thumbs in the elastic and dragged them down her legs.

She leaned back on her palms.

I knelt on her kitchen floor and put my tongue on her pussy.

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