Chapter 29 – Morgan
29
BIG brOTHER MODE ACTIVATED
MORGAN
I felt like shit.
The last three days had gone by in a blur. A blur of exhaustion, sadness, and anxiety. Luckily, thanks to Micah, I had a place to stay. Unfortunately, Micah was a terrible gossip, so I knew that at any moment, I’d be getting a call from my sister.
The fact that it was Atticus who called surprised me. So much so that I didn’t take his call. Yes, it felt slightly cowardly, but it was my screwup, and I didn’t want to hear about it from my brother-in-law.
The last three days at work had been me hiding. I acknowledged that maybe deliberately running mail, filing things, and picking up food orders for the engineers wasn’t the original job I’d been hired for, but it allowed me to hide from Lance.
I dropped one of the sandwiches off the lunch cart onto my foot and bent down to pick it up as my phone buzzed in my back pocket. I glowered at it—Atticus again. I sent him straight to voice mail.
And then I continued along, delivering sandwiches.
How could I have been so stupid?
I felt like an idiot. A complete and total fool. This whole time, I’d been happily in my own little world, thinking I was getting my life under control. It had felt so good—designing, setting goals, hitting the targets. God, it felt amazing.
Adele Beekman had said she loved my designs, but I knew now it was only because of him. It was a hollow, empty victory. I was exactly where I’d been two months ago.
No, I corrected myself. Now you have a full collection. You can take that anywhere.
Right. I could take my collection anywhere. I’d been so focused on Adele Beekman and her sponsorship, on her design house because of her history with young designers, that I hadn’t even considered looking elsewhere.
But I could.
Or you’ve been given an opportunity—don’t waste it.
There was that, too. I didn’t exactly believe in luck the way most people thought of it. To me, luck was opportunity plus hard work. Forget talent. You had to bust your ass. So maybe I could show Adele what I was made of despite how the door had opened for me. I deserved to be in her program.
Finally, after my last sandwich handoff, I passed by one of the conference rooms. The massive screen was lit up with my brother-in-law’s face.
“ Morgan, ” he said as soon as he saw me.
I squeaked and froze mid-step. “Jesus Christ, Atticus!”
I dashed into the conference room, closing the door behind me. “This is excessive. Is something wrong with Gwen?”
“Nothing,” he replied, sighing. “She’s fine. She’s napping.”
“Then why are you stalking me like a psychopath?”
“It’s not stalking,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “This is my company, Morgan. You work here. Without telling me, by the way. I can check in if I want to.”
I scowled at the screen. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe. But were you going to call and tell us what the fuck is going on with you?”
“No.” I crossed my arms, leaning back against the table. Of course, I wasn’t going to call. Gwen had been genuinely scared when she started spotting a month before the wedding. The doctor had reassured us that spotting was normal, but he’d admitted her to the hospital overnight just to monitor her, and she’d been perfectly fine.
Still, she didn’t need to deal with my bullshit.
“I think you and I agree that she doesn’t need stress right now,” Atticus said, his voice softening.
“Exactly. And she’ll worry about me if she finds out. Which is why I haven’t said a word about Lance, about work, or about our dad.”
“I know,” Atticus replied, his brow furrowed. “But maybe you should have. What’s going on with you, Morgan?”
I took a deep breath, leaning against the conference table, staring at his enormous face on the screen. “Look, it’s fine. Lance and I had a moment, but it’s not going to work.”
He studied me closely, leaning forward. “Morgan, your world fell apart when we left, and you’ve been navigating it mostly fine. But you said there have been some hiccups. Start talking.”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”
“Start from the beginning,” Atticus said calmly. “Micah might’ve filled in some parts, but I know he doesn’t have the whole story. Spill it.”
And I did. It was weird, but I trusted Atticus. And once I started telling him everything, it all spilled out. The whole shebang.
When I was done, he sighed. “Jesus Christ. Lance is an even bigger idiot than I thought.”
“Right? I’ve always said he was an idiot.”
Atticus chuckled. “And he is. But take it from someone who’s made a lot of mistakes—just talk to him. I think he cares about you.”
My heart squeezed painfully, and I sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah, but I can’t do the lying and controlling thing. I really can’t. I can’t have someone in my life who, at any moment, is going to turn on me.”
Atticus leaned back, his expression soft. “He’s not your dad, Morgan.”
“No, he’s not. But he’s already made it perfectly clear that his family is a mess. I didn’t even know he had a brother. Hell, he has a sister, too. Apparently, she’s his twin. Did you know?”
“Yes,” Atticus admitted.
I threw my hands up in frustration. “Everyone knows but me?”
“No. For what it’s worth, I don’t think Gwen even knows.”
I blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Look, I’m not proud of this,” he began. “But when I met your sister, I didn’t like Lakewood’s proximity to her, so I looked him up, and he came up squeaky. I Knew how unhinged I was so I hired an outside firm to dig up everything down to junior high girlfriend. They found nothing. He was a complete sypher.” He shrugged. “Until he met with someone from his past, Silas McGill. I unraveled from there. And even then, it was hard. He did his best to cut his DuLac side out.”
“Wow,” I muttered.
Atticus gave me a sympathetic look. “When it comes to family and shame, the choices we make—well, you know how that goes. I kept it to myself. He wasn’t that person anymore.”
My eyes pricked with tears. He really had tried to leave it all behind. “Yeah, I guess I do. But this feels so big, Atticus. There’s this hole in my heart, and I feel like I don’t even know him.”
“Look, I’m not going to tell you how to live your life. I know, shocking,” he said with a grin.
I laughed despite myself.
“But I will tell you this—trust your gut. You’ve got good instincts, Morgan. You always have. You liked me from the start, right?”
“That’s a stretch,” I teased. “I’m not even sure I like you now . This big brother thing is still new. I’m testing you out. You could start giving me wedgies at any moment, and I’d have to fight you.”
He laughed. “You’d lose. And who even gives wedgies?”
“I watch a lot of movies about big brothers.”
“Fair point. But if I can be honest with you?”
“Go for it,” I said
“I think you love Lance. I think you always have. And it would be a shame to close off your heart just because he didn’t tell you everything up front. Some things you learn along the way.”
My heart squeezed. He had been there for me. “Those were some pretty big things to withhold. My father… he said…” I couldn’t even finish the thought.
“What did he say, Morgan?”
“Lance had some kind of altercation with my father. Lance set his study on fire.” That last part I whispered.
Atticus looked neither surprised nor worried. “After James set fire to your collection, that seems fair.”
I blinked at him slowly. Then again. “Are you serious?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, look, what are you the most upset about? That he went to see your old man, that he didn’t tell you about the little visit, that he gave your father a taste of his own medicine, or that you were kept in the dark about doing it and omitted telling you something scary about himself?”
I knew there was a right answer. The right answer was probably that I was upset about him setting the study on fire. But there was a deep dark part of me that preened at that. He was willing to walk the edge of darkness for me.
Too many dark romances girl. Maybe it’s time to hit the Rom Coms for a bit.
The real trigger was that he’d kept me in the dark. I was supposed to know him better than anybody. And he was keeping a chest of secrets. “I need to be able to trust him.”
“Then tell him that.” Atticus sighed. “What do you want , Morgan?”
“I don’t know. I fell in love with him, and I’m terrified of what that could mean. My dad, who was supposed to love me unconditionally, literally set my dreams on fire, betrayed me, manipulated me. Gaslit me. I don’t know if I can trust anyone again. Especially someone with this many secrets.”
He sighed as if resigned. “Is there anything I can get you? Anything you need?”
I shook my head. “Nah. Micah’s already stocked the freezer full of rainbow sherbet, so I’m good for now.”
“Okay. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Gwen about all this? It seems like something you’d want to talk to your sister about.”
“No Gwen. No stress for her. She’ll try and fix it. Otherwise, you and I can’t have these fun little brother-sister chats anymore.”
He frowned. “I don’t like keeping things from her.”
“Well, get used to it for a while. And yes I see the irony. I need to sort out my feelings first.”
Atticus sighed. “Fine. But tell her soon, okay?”
“I’ll tell her. I promise. Now, go be with your wife or something, and please, don’t tell me anything about it because… gross.”
He smirked. “You know, Morgan, that’s actually an excellent idea. Let me go find my wife and… Well, you know.”
He hung up without saying goodbye, and I marveled at his ability to do that. Leaning back against the conference table, I tried to focus on what Atticus had told me— trust your gut .
The problem was all my gut and me wanted were Lance.
Lance
Morgan could only avoid me for so long. I’d figured out her plan after I hadn’t seen her at the office for three days.
Finally, I found her in the very same stairwell where, a month ago, I had my fingers inside her. She literally collided with me, holding a stack of folders. Everything spilled to the floor, and she cursed loudly before bending down to grab them, her eyes wide as I bent to help her.
"Hey," I said, handing her the three folders I had picked up.
"I’ve got this. I don’t need your help," she muttered, turning away.
"Morgan, come on," I pleaded, but she was already gathering the rest of the folders. She stood up, trying to skirt around me, but I caught her wrist gently.
She tried to pull away, but I eased her against the wall. "You can’t just avoid me, Morgan."
"Can’t I?"
"You currently work on my team."
She clamped her jaw shut. "Not for much longer. Once Atticus and Gwen are back, I can transfer to work under Atticus. Then we won’t even have to see each other at all. And three months after that, I’ll be working on my own fashion line. We don’t have to do this."
The knife twisted in my gut. I stepped back to give her space. "Listen, I’m not trying to force you into a decision here. I’m not trying to make you do anything you don’t want to do. I just… I fucking miss you."
Her gaze snapped up to mine. I could see it—the way she held herself too tightly. It had only been a few days, but was she thinner? She looked thinner.
"Can we talk?"
She shook her head. "No. We can’t, Lance. I’ll start forgetting all the reasons why this doesn’t work. I mean, Clarissa warned me. She told me not to give a man room to control my life. Not to fall for someone I can’t trust. Otherwise, I’d lose myself entirely. And after a month and a half with you, I don’t even recognize myself."
My brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"I’ve lost focus entirely. I have things to do, and instead, I’ve been running around letting you teach me how to drive, taking walks around the city, like I have time for that. I need to make as much money as possible and focus on my line. Those are my goals, my dreams. And you’re a distraction."
My heart cracked in two. "Is that what you really think?"
Her brows drew down in consternation. "It’s what I know, Lance. I don’t know you . Where you grew up. What you ran from. What you’re so scared of showing me."
I shook my head. "Between the Upper West Side and my grandparent’s property in New Jersey. I ran from my family because I didn’t want to become them. And I’m terrified of becoming a monster. You know everything about me that matters. You know that if you call, I will always turn up for you. You know that when I love hard, I’m a loyal fool. You know that I love you. Do you really think I wouldn’t let you be you? That I would let any harm come to you?"
"Lance, I need to be able to trust you.”
“You know you can, and you’re still running. You promised Morgan. No running.”
"Right, I guess I did. And when I told you what my father had done, what did you do?"
I ground my teeth. "I told you what you needed to know, Morgan. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Hector. I should have. I’ve thought about a million ways I could have done it differently.”."
“You should have tried harder. That was vital information.”
She’s right.
“Fuck, I don’t want you to see that side of me. I don’t want to scare you.”
She pushed at my chest. “It’s supposed to be you and me against the world, Lance. Not you alone and me hiding behind you.”
I raked a hand through my hair. "Morgan, I just want what’s best for you. I want you to be happy. Your father is right; I’m bad fucking news. If I was stronger, I would have stayed away from you."
I could see in her eyes that I had hurt her. I had really, truly hurt her. And this wasn’t just a fuckup. She thought I didn’t listen to her.
"My whole life, my father has controlled me, and Gwen threw herself on a grenade to save me. He trashed my dreams, literally set them on fire, and then expected me to bow down and do what he wanted. Just once, I want to get to choose things for myself because I want them.”
"Morgan." My voice was harsh, raspy. She was right.
"I know, every single thing you’ve done, you’ve done it for me. You’ve done it because you care. I get it. I really do. But you’ve never truly let me know you. Not really."
That one I couldn’t abide. "You know who I am. You’re the only person who’s ever actually seen me—all of me."
I took her hand, and for a fleeting moment when that zap of electricity flared to life and she squeezed my hand back, I wondered if there was hope.
But then she shook her head. "What’s really disappointing is that you didn’t trust me . The same way you’re asking me to trust you, but you didn’t even trust me enough to tell me who you are.”
"Morgan, I?—"
She let go of my hand. "I can’t, Lance. I’m sorry."
Then she was gone, taking the stairs two at a time to the next floor up.
I had really fucked up. And that squeezing in my chest was never going to go away.