Page 129 of Doctorshipped
“Could you blame him?”
“Not really. No.”
“Fiona’s at school. She’s doing well here.” I nearly wince giving Margot even that small shred of information. She didn’t earn it—she lost all rights to any of it.
“I miss her, Grant. Can we go somewhere to talk? Or …?”
My face feels placid, the familiar stoicism so easily resumed. I’m unreadable, maybe even to Margot. But, beneath it all, my mind and body are swirling, unable to find equilibrium.
What are my options?
We could go talk. She came all this way. I know Margot. She won’t leave until she gets what she wants. But, going out in public in Bordeaux means everyone sees everything, and within less than an hour, people will have conjectured some story that will grow and twist and take on a life of its own. And, worst of all, that story will invariably reach Jayme before I do.
“Come in,” I say, waving my arm toward the foyer. “We can talk in the kitchen.”
Margot steps across my threshold and I feel instantly invaded. This home has been a fresh start, the symbol of our new life. I kissed Jayme right there. Fiona comes running in daily across that same rug, and her feet land on those floorboards. I don’t want Margot here, but I don’t really have a choice.
I point toward the kitchen. Margot walks ahead of me. She takes a seat at the table. Old habits kick in without me thinking as I offer her hospitality she doesn’t deserve.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Water, if you don’t mind.”
If I don’t mind? I mind.
I pull down a glass and fill it at the fridge. Then I take a seat across from her.
I stare at Margot, the woman I committed my life and heart to. She’s the woman whose bedside I camped out at day and night while she fought the battle of her life. She’s the woman I sacrificed my own wellbeing for, running myself ragged to be her caregiver while single-parenting Fiona through the tragedy of her mother’s illness.
And when we received the news of her complete remission, I thought we were about to begin the process of rebuilding our life together. Instead she dropped a bomb on me. She told me she’d been doing a lot of thinking over the past year.
My mind drifts back to the day everything changed.
I satin our living room, thinking we were on the cusp of committing to one another more deeply than ever before. We’d made it through the worst—so I thought. Instead, she said, “I’ve done nothing but think over the past year, Grant. I thought my life was ending. You know that. What you’ll never know, or I hope you never know, is how facing my mortality caused me to question all my life choices.
“We married young, determined to pursue our careers. I love medicine. If it weren’t for medicine and the skill of excellent physicians, I wouldn’t be here talking to you right now. I wouldn’t have the opportunity I have.”
“And what opportunity is that?” I had asked it so innocently, unaware of what was coming next.
I was like a man on a stroll through Hiroshima, thinking the day was beautiful one minute, and blown away by the most powerful and malevolent explosion the next.
“I loveyou and I love Fiona, but I can’t stay here.”
Margot’s wordsrolled through me gently at first, hitting numbness, and sounding as sensible as gibberish. As the moments ticked by, time seemingly slowed, and her meaning became excruciatingly clear.
Margot was leaving.
Not only was she leaving me, the man who had sacrificed and stood by her, the man who had cried over her—the man who waited for her to come out of the woods, and believed in a future with her.
What cauterized my heart and broke my spirit was the realization that Margot was leaving Fiona.
My bright-light, talented, free-spirited daughter would lose her mother after all. She wouldn’t lose her to an unrelenting beast like cancer. Instead, Margot herself would inflict unspeakable pain on our daughter by choosing to leave when she owed Fiona her relentless presence.
What followed that conversation between Margot and me wasn’t pretty.
Margot laid out her reasoning. How she deserved to go find herself, to claim the life she almost lost. I begged her to see how she could find all that and more while staying true to her commitments. I bargained with her, saying she could take regular trips. I demoralized myself by groveling.
I first begged for myself, and then I begged on behalf of Fiona.
