Darling

Chapter 19

"I mean I'm happy for you, Darling. Really, I am," Scarlett assures me, her hand lightly squeezing my upper arm. She pauses for a moment, seeming to consider what else to say.

"I just feel like it's all so sudden," she says, trying to meet my eyes.

I'm fixated on the screen in front of me, my attention focused on the emails in my inbox that have accumulated throughout the day.

"Yeah, I get that," I say bluntly. "But I've known her my whole life, and she loves me. I know she does."

I hit send on the last of the emails and lean back in my chair with a deep exhale. When I finally meet Scarlett's eyes, they are full of concern, her eyebrows furrowed.

"She loves you, sure. But do you love her, Margot?" she asks.

I scoff, not bothering to suppress the urge to roll my eyes at her question. Why does it matter whether we're head over heels for one another? Aubrey cares for me and loves my family. That's more than most people could dream of in a marriage.

Scarlett looks at me expectantly, awaiting my response.

"If I didn't love her, would I agree to marry her? I mean come on, Johannsen. I'm not a complete idiot," I respond.

For a moment, I doubt my choice of words. Am I an idiot? Probably. But at least I won't be a lonely idiot in a cold, miserable, noisy city.

Scarlett smiles softly, standing up straight before placing her hands in her pockets and looking around the room.

An uncomfortable silence lingers, and I worry my response is unconvincing. I quickly changed the subject.

"Thanks for helping me out with pick-up duty this week," I say earnestly. "I'll start back up again on Monday; I just can't stand the thought of seeing her right now."

Scarlett shakes her head.

"Don't mention it. See you tomorrow, Darling."

Stepping out into the freezing January air, I pull my beanie down further on my head and rush to the station in time to catch my train. I find solace in the heat of the subway car, savoring it until I reach my stop. Once inside my apartment, I quickly remove my wool coat and my boots and greet Mr. Boobies with a cuddle and some dinner.

In the middle of a historical documentary, I dig my phone out of my pocket and hover over Aubrey's name. Since Texas is an hour behind, I know she should be getting out of work now.

Anyone else would be excited to catch up after a long day with their wife-to-be, but I find myself almost dreading the idea.

My train of thought is interrupted by her name flashing on the screen, and I sigh to myself before answering.

"Hi, babe," Aubrey says cheerfully. "I miss you."

"Hey," I respond. "I miss you too. Are you driving home?"

"Just got here," she says.

I can hear the door squeal behind her as she walks into her home, quickly followed by the sound of her dogs barking. She tries her best to get them to quiet down, but they're relentless.

I had trouble staying at her house with them there, having always been more of a cat person.

"I'm sorry about them," she sighs exasperatedly over the phone as I hear her lay down in bed.

"So how did it go? You didn't text me all day, so I'm guessing you still have a job?" Aubrey asks.

"Yeah. I just had a meeting with Cumberbatch."