Along with her ex-husband and his crabby mother, Maggie didn’t miss high heels at all.
The dress she wore was one of the few she’d salvaged from her marriage, a little black dress, short and beautifully beaded around the edges, with flattering cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline that showed the barest hint of cleavage. She didn’t mind wearing it now because Ashcroft and his mother had hated it.
Maggie was surprised at how much relief she felt after talking to Connor about her crazy marriage. There had been a few moments at dinner last night when she’d almost burst into tears, but it hadn’t been because of the bad memories. It had been because Connor was so sweet to listen, so quick to take her side, so heroic in his defense of her. And the amazing sex afterward had helped, too.
One thing Connor had never asked, though, was why she’d stayed with the man for so many years. Why didn’t she leave Ashcroft in the very beginning when he first started picking on her?
Maggie was so glad Connor hadn’t asked because she would’ve found it difficult to answer him. Not because she didn’t know the answer, but because part of the reason for staying was so nonsensical.
How could she explain that she’d stayed because a part of her thought she deserved to be punished? After all, she had broken up with Connor because she was worried that he would die someday, and she would be left alone. It sounded so selfish now, but back then, the possibility of her being devastated by his death had been too great a risk for her to take. So basically, she had ended her relationship with Connor because she was a coward.
And how ironic was it that she’d ended up marrying Ashcroft, who had seemed like such a safe, risk-free alternative? Big mistake. Because he hadn’t just tried to hurt her. He had tried to destroy her, psychologically, bit by bit. There had been moments during her marriage when she didn’t know if she would survive another day. After living with that, skydiving and rock climbing didn’t look so bad.
“So much for risk aversion,” she murmured. From now on, she was going to take the riskiest choice available, every time.
Her cell phone rang and she rushed to grab it, noticed the call number and said, “Grandpa, is everything okay?”
“Just lovely, Maggie. Any day I see sunshine and blue skies is a delightful day. And yourself? How’s your day, Maggie, me love?”
Maggie bit back a smile. “Grandpa, did you enjoy a wee dram before you called me?”
“Before I called ye? Ha! Before, during and after’s more like it.” He laughed so hard he dropped the phone.
“Oh boy,” Maggie murmured. It didn’t take many wee drams to get Grandpa tanked up and raring to go these days. She was just glad Deidre would be by to make sure he made it to bed and didn’t sleep on the couch all night.
The phone was jostled, and then a woman came on the line. “It’s Deidre here, Maggie. Angus is doing just fine, not to worry. He’s had a wee spot of the angel’s tears, but that never hurt a flea.”
Maggie chuckled. It sounded as if Deidre might be a bit tipsy, too. They were a pair sometimes. They had probably already changed into their jammies before pouring the first of what sounded like several nightcaps.
“I’m not worried, Deidre,” she said. “I know you’re taking good care of him.”
“Aye, we’re coming along just fine.” She covered the phone to say something to Grandpa, then came back on the line. “How’s my boy treating you?”