As soon as the front door opened I knew I’d made a mistake.
“Hi again, Lucy.”
At first I was too shocked to say anything. Stood statue-still on Daniel’s front porch—a swing full of nautical-themed striped outdoor pillows (nicer than the ones on my couch at home) to my left, a large urn filled with winter greenery and white sparkling orbs on the right. It was a small house but gorgeous—the kind you’d find in a House & Home magazine, the clear touches of a skilled designer visible everywhere.
“Margot. Oh. Hi.” My mind raced for a way to explain why I was here, on Daniel and Margot’s front porch, late on a Monday night. I came up blank. Margot stared at me, unsmiling, and I wondered if I should turn around and walk away. But then she smiled and seemed to come out of the trancelike state from a moment earlier. “Come in, come in,” she said, ushering me inside.
If I thought the house was beautiful from the outside, I was in awe of its interior. Sweeping ceilings, intricate crown molding, beautiful art, everything in its place. Definitely magazine-spread-worthy. “Your home is stunning.”
“Aw, thank you,” Margot replied, glancing over her shoulder as she hung my coat up on one of five antique brass hangers by the door. “Daniel and I did almost everything ourselves.” I hadn’t meant to give her my coat—had no intentions of staying—but was still in shock from finding Margot on the other side of the door, and my reaction times were off. “I baked some buttermilk blueberry muffins. Cravings.” She smiled again and rubbed her stomach, then gestured for me to follow her into the kitchen.
For a moment I stood by the front door, unsure what to do, but then I quickly unzipped my boots and followed her. The kitchen was clearly the central spot of their home—a large square island of white marble right in the middle, reclaimed wood stools lining one side. Two dozen muffins—striped and spotted where deep purple blueberry juice had oozed out during baking—sat on cooling racks on the island, and the sink was full of neatly stacked dishes yet to be washed. Margot took two plates from the cupboard and set a muffin on each one, handing me a plate even though I didn’t say I wanted a muffin and was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to eat it.
Where was Daniel?
She sat on one of the stools and took a big bite of muffin, blueberry juice staining her fingers and a corner of her mouth. “These are so much better with fresh blueberries, but frozen will do in a pinch.” She took another bite, then stopped chewing. “Sit. Eat,” she said. “Are you going to make a pregnant woman enjoy her muffin alone?”
“Sorry, no. Thanks.” I sat down awkwardly two stools over and broke off a small piece of muffin, which was still warm. I ate it, despite my nerves making it nearly impossible to swallow anything but my own saliva, and told her how delicious it was. “Maybe I can get the recipe,” I said, trying to break the icy tension hovering between us. Margot seemed happy I asked, and smiled wide as she wiped a crumb from her lip.
“Totally. I’ll email it to you.” Then she put her muffin down. “Better still, I’ll text it to you right now.” And she pulled her phone out of her back pocket.
“Do you need my number?” I asked, but she shook her head. “Already have it,” she replied, which was odd. I wondered how—did I give it to her at the party the other night?
I was about to tell her there was no rush, but she seemed determined to send the recipe immediately and so I stayed quiet and nibbled another piece of muffin while she tapped out the message. She paused only once to stare up to the ceiling as she mumbled about whether it was one teaspoon or one tablespoon of baking soda. “And...done.” She put her phone down and I felt mine buzz in my sweater’s pocket.
She raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to check that? Make sure it came through okay?” It didn’t seem like she was asking—more like demanding I do it—so I pulled my phone out and was quite certain all the blood in my face drained when I saw what was on the screen. A message from Daniel.
Margot’s Buttermilk Blueberry Muffins
I quickly looked up at Margot, my heart beating so fast it was all I could do not to press both hands to my chest to keep it from exploding from my chest.
She popped the last bite of muffin in her mouth and held up the phone, the one she’d used to send me the text with the recipe. For a moment I stared while she chewed and swallowed, then with her next words everything fell into place.
“Daniel’s phone,” she said, pulling another muffin from the cooking rack. “Want a second one?” I shook my head slowly and she shrugged, placing the muffin on her own plate.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Margot said, carefully tugging the parchment paper wrapper from the muffin. “Why did I send you a message about meeting me—or Daniel, I guess—here?” She licked her fingers of the blueberry juice.
“I know what happened on Saturday, at the Maddy,” she said. Then she sighed. “Danny told me yesterday.” Danny? “When I mentioned seeing you at the party and that I’d told you about the baby, well, he sort of broke down then. He felt terrible about the whole thing.” Her elbow knocked a few muffins off the cooling rack. “What a mess,” she muttered, using a nearby cloth to clean up the purple smudges before they ruined the white marble. I wasn’t sure if she was referring to the muffin splatter, or the entire situation.
“Margot, I don’t know—” My mind couldn’t move quickly enough, and even if it could, what would I have said? I don’t know what happened. I didn’t mean to. It’s complicated.
“Stop. It’s fine,” she said, which confused me even more. “Of course, I’m not happy about it.” Her lips moved into a frown to prove her words. “But there’s been no real harm done.” And back to her muffin she went.
I swallowed hard and coughed when some of the muffin crumbs got caught in my throat. Margot took a glass off the open shelf by the sink, then turned on the faucet and let the water run. She held one finger in the stream and, when she was satisfied with the temperature, filled the glass and handed it to me.
“Thanks,” I said. I took a big sip and the cold water moved the muffin bit along.
“Look, I’m not blaming you,” she said, back on her stool. “You know how Danny is,” she said. How he is?
“Sorry, I’m not sure...what you mean.” Thump, thump, thump went my heart. I took another sip of water, trying to calm down.
“Ah, that’s right. The whole memory thing. Yeah, Danny told me about that, too. I’m sorry you’re going through this, Lucy. It sounds terrible.” She paused then, gave me a knowing look. “What I meant is it’s not like either of us should be surprised you and Daniel reconnected. He’s always been a flirt. He got caught up.” She shrugged, continuing on with her second muffin, and I thought back to Alex’s comment about the pretty bartender at our engagement party. The fact Daniel had been engaged when I met him. The picture grew clearer...
“Margot, do you know why Daniel and I broke up?” My voice quavered, but I held her gaze.
Her face stayed still for a moment, and then...a nod. “I take it you don’t remember?”
“I do not,” I said. “Are...are you the reason we broke up?” This last part came out quietly and I held my breath. Waiting for the answer no one had yet been able—or willing—to give me.
I expected her to say, Yes. I’m sorry, yes. To tell me Daniel had been unfaithful, the two of them hooking up behind my back a couple of months before our wedding, and I steeled myself for her response. When she finally answered, I detected a hint of pity in her tone. “No.”
“No...?”
“You’ve got it backward,” she added softly. “It wasn’t because of me, Lucy. I swear to you.”
I nodded, because I needed her to go on but couldn’t trust my voice.
“Danny and I started dating about six months after you guys broke up. I had been in Ecuador, volunteering as a translator with an entomologist friend of mine, so I was pretty off the grid.” I thought back to the wedding I remembered, tried to picture Margot there but couldn’t. Of course, the wedding hadn’t been real, but I understood now why I couldn’t place her in any of my memories around that time—she hadn’t even been in the country.
“I ended up with malaria, came back earlier than expected and ran into Danny at an art exhibit a couple of months later. We started dating, I went to design school and he left his father’s firm and then we got married and, well, here we are.”
At her explanation a sense of calm settled over me. There was no malicious story here, at least not when it came to Margot. But then I remembered something. “Wait...you said I got it backward. What did you mean?”
“Lucy, I’m not sure it’s my place to tell you this.” Margot seemed uncomfortable, and I moved to the edge of my stool, wanting to get closer to her. To the truth. “I know you don’t remember, because of your accident, but, well, maybe it’s better that way?”
My body quivered with the adrenaline, the pent-up tension from being on edge. “Please, Margot. I have to know what happened.”
She pushed her second half-eaten muffin away, fiddled with the wedding rings on her finger. Sighed deeply before speaking. “I said you had it backward, Lucy, because Daniel didn’t cheat on you. You cheated on him.”
I gasped, nearly fell off the stool as the shock moved through me.
I cheated on Daniel? I would never have done something like that. “You’re lying.” My words shook along with my body. Of course Margot was angry about what happened between Daniel and me, but this was taking things too far.
But she shook her head, and the look on her face told me this was the absolute truth. “What reason do I have to lie, Lucy? We used to be friends. I wouldn’t do that to you. Especially not now, with everything you’re dealing with.
“I appreciate how difficult this must be to hear, and I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you. But you’re the reason you and Daniel broke up.” She looked sad, whether for me to be hearing the truth this way or because of what I’d done to her husband I couldn’t be sure.
“Do you—” I gulped back the rest of the sentence, then tried again. “Do you know who it was, uh, with?”
“I don’t, and I don’t think Daniel did, either. Or at least he never mentioned a name. Just some guy.”
Just some guy. I had cheated on my fiancé with “some guy.” Who does that?
“Danny was devastated, though to be fair to you he wasn’t the easiest to be with. Especially back then. He was pretty unhappy with work, and his dad wouldn’t let up on him. It wasn’t the best time of his life.”
“He told you all this?” I was breathless, trying to catch up. Tried to accept I had known this all along—that it still lived inside my memory even if it couldn’t be recalled. I was also incredibly embarrassed for how I’d acted with Daniel, for confusing him with my kisses and affections. It amazed me he’d even spoken to me that first night, when we’d run into each other outside Jake’s party.
“When things started getting more serious with us, he told me what happened. And so you know, he did feel partly responsible. Like I said, he was a flirt. He drank too much. He wasn’t always kind with his words.” She gave an apologetic smile. “He’s put the work in, has come a long way. He’s a good husband, Lucy.”
I saw in her face then how much she loved Daniel. Had already forgiven him for what happened on Saturday, accepted his apology and explanation because they had both history and a future to focus on.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, welling up. “I...I had no idea. I don’t remember any of that.” My breath caught and this time I did press a hand to my chest. She reached out and held my arm gently.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Okay.” I nodded, still trembling a little with the aftereffects of shock.
“Do you love him? Like, love him again?”
I answered quickly so she wouldn’t read anything into my hesitation. “No. I don’t think I do.”
It was a lie, but it was the right thing to say.
“Good,” she said, letting go of my arm. She swiped a few crumbs off the counter with her napkin and then folded it onto her plate. “I hope you understand, and I wish things could be different, but we probably shouldn’t do this again.” She laid a hand on her belly and I understood how hard this must have been for her, asking me here tonight. Margot needed to move forward with Daniel as much as I needed to move farther away from him.
“Of course.” I stood on shaky legs, grateful to have the counter’s edge for support.
At the door I thought she might hug me, but instead she offered her hand. The formality felt strange, yet it was the right choice for the moment as we were essentially strangers now. At one time we had been friends, but that was a long time ago. I shook her outstretched hand, my palm clammy against hers. “Good luck, Lucy.”
“You, too, Margot.” And then she shut the door and I stood on her front porch, realizing I had better sit down for a minute before I passed out. So I was on the swing, leaning against the multitude of pillows and trying not to hyperventilate, when I felt another buzz in my pocket. With shaking hands I pulled out my phone. It was the message I’d been waiting for from Matt, and my heart sank with his three simple words.
I’ll be there.