She sighed, as if it was no less than she had expected. With one hand on the wall, she proceeded slowly down the hallway, just like she had that first night he’d brought her home. Except then he’d been tingling with the first indications that he had found something special, with anticipation that life was going to change for him.
That night, she had seemed pleasantly surprised by his desire to care for her. Now, that same desire had erected a huge wall between them, one that he wasn’t sure he would be able to find his way over.
Instead of continuing into the kitchen like she had then, Maggie went for the stairs. She took them slowly, one at a time. At the top she turned left, entered her bedroom, and closed the door.
Michael exhaled heavily. This was not going to be easy.
––––––––
“She’ll come around, Michael,” Taryn said, patting his arm. They were sitting at Maggie’s kitchen table, drinking coffee. Taryn had brought over more meals, though there was more than enough in the fridge. Maggie was eating even less than before, and Michael couldn’t seem to summon much of an appetite either.
“The only time she leaves her room is when she thinks I’ve gone outside,” he said, the sadness in his voice unmistakable. “It’s gotten so that I open and close the door, then sit off to the side, just to see her. She hasn’t spoken to me since I brought her home.”
Taryn was quiet for a few minutes. “Maybe you should give her some space, Michael.”
“I don’t want her to be alone.”
“I know. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but ... if Jake hadn’t let me go, I never would have had the chance to realize how much I loved him. I think Lexi would say the same thing about Ian.” She paused, letting that sink in.
Michael shook his head. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“I don’t know that you have a choice.”
––––––––
The next day, Michael knocked softly on Maggie’s bedroom door. He tried the knob, found it unlocked. Opening the door slowly, he asked, “Mind if I come in?”
Maggie sat on her bed, George in her lap. She didn’t protest, so he took a step inside.
He cleared his throat. “Maggie, I’m, uh, leaving. I left a cell phone on the kitchen table if you need anything, anything at all. Taryn says you should call if you want to talk.”
She might have nodded slightly, he couldn’t be sure.
“Maggie, I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me. I hope you can, someday. If you do, I’ll be waiting, forever if I have to. But I’m not sorry, and you need to know that I’d do the same thing again in a heartbeat. I love you, Maggie. I can live with you hating me, but I don’t think I could live in a world without you in it.”
He turned and left then, closing the door quietly behind him.
*
Maggie heard the front door close. Heard the rumble of his truck starting up and driving away.
Then there was silence.
And Maggie cried.
Chapter Nineteen
Hours turned into days. Days turned into weeks. There were a few more snows before the weather began to grow warmer. Maggie’s vision had improved slowly but steadily. After two months it was close to normal.
She hadn’t bothered making follow up appointments with the neurosurgeon; she wouldn’t have gone anyway. She couldn’t drive. Her pride and stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to ask anyone for help, even though someone called at least once every day to see if they could do anything, to ask if she needed anything. She appreciated their offers, but each one only reminded her of how much she’d lost. She even stopped answering the phone after a while, letting their well-intentioned calls go directly to the machine.
It was more than stubborn pride that kept her from visiting the specialist. The man was cold, about as caring as a block of ice. She already knew he could do nothing more for her. Any improvement would not be because of anything he could do.
The house felt so empty without Michael. Even George seemed to miss him. He hadn’t been by once since he’d left. A few of his brothers had come by now and then, despite her refusal to pick up the phone. She watched them from behind the curtains as they walked around, checking things out, scraping bits of snow and ice she hadn’t managed to clear away. Taryn and Lexi stopped over every few days, too, but Maggie couldn’t bring herself to face them. She wrote an apology to Lexi and Ian shortly after her sight began to return, saying she was sorry for what happened the night of their reception, thanking them for taking care of George while she had been in the hospital.
Their calls, their visits, went unanswered.