Page 47 of Chasing I Do
Margo stepped back, her face pale as if the words had broken something loose deep inside, and she was torn between disbelief and heartache. Darcy could go into the dozen or so reasons Kyle had for not telling his mom. But since none of them would help in the healing process, and all of them were cruel, she remained silent.
Margo believing her didn’t change the truth. And hurting the woman wouldn’t change the past.
“But after the funeral,” Margo said, skating over Kyle’s actions. “And every day since, that was your decision. You had no right to deny me of her!”
The emotional force of her words had Margo holding onto the wall for balance. Her face was drawn and her hands shaking, but her eyes were hard. Resolved.
“I am her mother, and a damn good one, so I have every right,” Darcy said. “And I am only open to introducing her to youifwe can find some common ground and move past whatever this is between us. Which Gage believes we can.”
“Gage has always been overly optimistic.”
“I believe there is hope,” Darcy said quietly, because, surprisingly enough, even though she’d had her share of run ins with the force that was Margo Easton, she did have hope.
Gage believed they could come through this. Darcy believed in Gage’s strength. Most importantly, she believed in his character.
“It was never my intention to hurt you or come between your family. I just wanted to love Kyle, and then do what was right for Kylie.”
“Your kind of love nearly destroyed this family once, and I won’t let it happen again.” Margo was a few inches shorter than Darcy, but still managed to look down her nose at her. “Gage assured me thatthatwon’t happen, but Gage has always had a soft spot for this damsel in distress act you do so well. I am no fool. I know he’s been spending time over here.”
Darcy’s face flooded with heat. She felt as if she were a girl again, being told she wasn’t good enough. But she wasn’t a girl, she was a twenty-eight-year-old woman, and Kylie’s mother. Regardless of what Margo thought, or what happened with Gage, Darcy knew whatherfamily deserved—and she wasn’t willing to settle.
“Gage is getting to know Kylie. And we are getting to know each other again, outside of the past and his family.”
“My family is finally healing, moving on from the tragedy that struck, so you need to leave him alone.”
Darcy wanted to point out that they weren’t all hit by lightning. Kyle’s impulsive nature had caused the breakup, the accident, the devastation. And holding onto the anger wasn’t going to change that. But she thought of Gage.
And finally Kylie.
Fueling this hostility between them wouldn’t help anyone.
“All I want to do is move on too. We both deserve to find happiness again.” And knowing that with people like Margo, one had to take a stand and fight for their footing, she got up close and personal. “But right now this is about Rhett and Stephanie’s happiness. So while I won’t stand for you tossing around blame in my house, I won’t ban you from the wedding. Now, if you choose to be a part of Kylie’s life, that depends on howyouchoose to conduct yourself.”
???
Gage had received three calls from Rhett over the past few hours. All of which he’d sent to voice mail. First, because he’d been in a series of meetings. And second, he was not about to be suckered back into dog sitting. He’d finally achieved a solid night’s sleep and was determined to go for the gold and get two.
So when he got a text saying,Call me, Asshole,he sent one back. It was a photo of him waving hi to Rhett—with his middle finger. But when Stephanie called, Gage knew something was up.
It took her the exact length from his office to his mom’s house to explain Margo had crashed the wedding tasting and, although Darcy hadn’t asked her to leave, there was a weird vibe.
And by weird vibe, he knew that his mom had somehow overstepped her bounds. So by the time he pulled into his childhood home, his imagination had come up with enough possibilities that he felt sick.
Leaving the flowers he’d picked up on the way out of work for his girls, he’d taken to thinking about them that way, he walked in and dropped his coat by the door. “Mom, you home?”
He didn’t have to go far to find her. Margo Easton, the strongest woman he knew, was sitting in the living room in her favorite reading chair. She was wearing her slippers, a Sunday dress, and her floral house robe. The same one she’d worn since he was a kid. Her hair was tucked back in a bun, she had a full face of makeup on, and she was clutching a photo album.
“Mom,” he said again.
Margo looked up and Gage’s temper vanished. It was hard to be pissed when your mom looked as if she’d been crying.
“I didn’t hear you come in.” With a shaky smile, she patted the arm of the chair. “Come and sit. I was just going through these old photo albums. Look at this one of your dad and me.”
Silently, she traced a shaky finger over a photograph, worn around the edges and faded. Gage sat on the edge of the chair and—holy hell—his lungs stopped working.
It was a shot of his parents doing a dramatic dip under the neon light that still hung above the front door at Stout. His dad was dressed to impress in a collared shirt and a skinny tie, and Margo. Wow, his mom looked like a woman in love.
She was warm and alive, her eyes lit with so much joy it was hard to reconcile that with the woman who sat next to him. He’d forgotten just how all-encompassing their love had been. They were a team, in everything they did, refusing to even spend a night apart in the twenty-nine years they’d been married.
