Chapter Twenty-Two
“This party is awesome,” Vince said, his arm draped over Sydney’s shoulder. He had a blue cocktail clutched in his hand with a mini Poseidon trident poking out of it. He swayed slightly, eyes glossy and bright, a goofy grin plastered across his face.
Vince was clearly a little drunk.
Sydney, on the other hand, was as sober as a judge.
She scanned the crowd of over sixty guests milling about the lawn of La Vista, an old Monterey Estate turned event space.
Morgan was nowhere to be seen. Usually, the venue hosted dreamy bohemian weddings, but after a last-minute cancellation, Sydney had managed to snag it for Vincent’s thirty-fifth birthday party. It was ocean themed, of course.
Guests dressed accordingly. Some were in Hawaiian shirts with palm trees, others in flowy summery dresses, while a few brave souls were wearing wetsuits and snorkels.
Vincent, the birthday boy, was wearing one of his many already-owned tropical shirts with coconuts on it.
His shirt was unbuttoned, his chest exposed, proudly showing off his pecs at any opportunity.
Blue and teal streamers were draped between palm trees, fluttering like ocean waves in the wind.
Since it was an adult party, it was only right for there to be two bars.
One with a surfboard as a countertop serving drinks with names like Captain Rum’s Punch and Seaside Sibs and Wobbly Legs, and another, on the other side of the sprawling lawn, with those damned chocolate seashell shot cups Vince had insisted on.
Sydney had even organized a DJ. DJ Fish, though his real name was actually Michael, and Sydney was paying him extra to adopt the temporary alias for the party. He’d already played all the big hits and was now deep into a string of ‘90s pop.
There were low tables surrounded by ocean-colored cushions dotting the grass and a giant blue clam pi?ata hanging from a nearby oak tree.
However, the idea of a drunk guest swinging a bat in the air while blindfolded suddenly seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.
Sydney had also organized dishes of Swedish fish, gummy sharks, and even some candy mermaids.
“You really outdid yourself,” Vince beamed. “Like seriously, Syd. This is amazing. I don’t even know how to begin thanking you for organizing this.”
“You can start by reimbursing me for that giant octopus.” Sydney pointed to a massive inflatable octopus standing guard over the snack table. Its tentacles were holding bowls of chips, dips, and mini crab-shaped sandwiches.
“Done.”
“And by booking me for a spa day.”
“I’ll raincheck on that one.”
“I’ve included it in my invoice,” Sydney said, completely matter of fact. Her mental health was no joke and organizing this party had felt more stressful than being called into a blazing fire emergency at work. And if possible, even more chaotic.
Her brother laughed, clearly thinking it was a joke.
“I’m not kidding, Vince.” Sydney had, in fact, drawn up an invoice. A very professional one, for that matter. But it was more for herself than anything else. A practice run of sorts. Just in case she ever decided to switch careers.
“Fine,” he relented. “One spa day and that’s it.”
“How about two?”
He gave her the side-eye, and Sydney knew she wouldn’t get any more out of him than that.
Which was fine. Relaxing while hot stones were placed on her back wasn’t exactly something to look forward to.
It would mean too much time to think. But the thought of getting pummeled by a therapist’s meaty fists, forcing her to concentrate on nothing else besides her own delicious agony, was perhaps the exact thing she needed.
The less Sydney thought about Morgan, the better.
Especially since it appeared Morgan was doing very little thinking about her.
“You know when I sent you that pic of the chocolate shell-shaped shot glasses, I was just joking,” Vince said, finishing his drink.
“Were you?” Sydney asked, glancing up at her brother, a smile biting her lips.
She loved seeing him so happy, albeit a little drunk.
There was a time when she was just a little thing with blonde pigtails, wearing a ballerina tutu over her jeans, that she had dreamed of being just like her big brother.
Her not-so-cool big brother. Though she’d only discovered his lack of coolness when she was old enough to know that spending weekends at the local aquarium feeding seals for fun wasn’t exactly cool.
“You’re right,” he laughed. “This party would be nothing without those chocolate shot glasses. Have you had one yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, you better get going before Derek finishes them all.” He nodded toward their dad who was at the table pouring rum into not one… or two… but three seashell-shaped shot glasses. He was knocking them back like they were water. “I’ll be driving him home tonight and not the—”
“None of you are driving,” Sydney interjected. “I’ll organize an Uber.”
“Or you can take us home?”
“Can’t.”
“Why not? Hot date with Morgan?”
Sydney still hadn’t told him they’d broken up…
or parted ways, or whatever you called it when you weren’t officially dating.
Even though it had felt that way. Saying it out loud to anyone but Liv, who already knew every detail about her life (including when her period started), felt like it would make things permanent.
Real. And Sydney was doing her best to ignore the reality of it all.
In fact, she remained hopeful that somehow Morgan would come around.
Maybe.
Possibly.
Or perhaps not.
If Vince hadn’t had at least three Wobbly Legs under his belt, he might have noticed how Sydney had tensed up at the mention of Morgan.
But the alcohol coursing through his veins kept him blissfully unaware.
Rightfully so, since it was his big day after all, and Vince didn’t deserve any drama on his birthday.
He deserved only marine-themed drinks, snacks, and great music.
She wriggled free from his grip. “Now, why don’t you stop hanging out with your sister and go entertain all your friends? They’re here to see you.” She pressed her palms flat between his shoulder blades and gave him a shove.
No sooner had Vince been swallowed by a group of university friends than Liv slid into his spot beside Sydney. “You’ve got a magic touch,” she claimed.
“What do you mean?”
Liv flourished a hand in the air. “You’re like the fairy godmother, changing this pumpkin into a fricken palace. Look at this place.”
It had become exponentially more difficult to admire her work when the mention of the fairy godmother made her stomach lurch.
Hadn’t she and Morgan discussed Cinderella just the other day? Hadn’t things looked so bright and promising back then?
Sydney hadn’t realized her own face was twisted into a grimace until Liv turned to her, brows dipped low, lips pressed so thin they disappeared completely. “What’s wrong with you? Is it the Morgan thing?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” Sydney retorted a tad too fiercely. Certainly, a telltale sign that something was definitely wrong. Of course, there was. Sydney’s heart felt shattered into a hundred pieces, and each piece just floated about out of her reach.
“Have you tried drowning your sorrows in alcohol?” Liv waved a finger toward the bar. “Maybe we should get you one of each of those cocktails. A sort of liquid therapy sampler. Just see which one drowns your heartache best.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
Liv took a deep breath, exhaling dramatically.
“Should I go throw eggs at Morgan’s house?
I just bought two dozen at the farmer’s market this morning.
The yolks are bright orange. I’d be more than happy to vandalize her…
” Liv’s voice trailed off as her gaze flicked over Sydney’s shoulder.
She frowned. “I thought you said she wasn’t coming to Vince’s party? ”
“Who?”
“Morgan, you goof. She’s right there.”
Sydney didn’t whip her head back until all the joints creaked in her neck. She just shook her head in disbelief. “Morgan specifically said she’s not coming, and she doesn’t strike me as the type of person—”
Liv gripped Sydney by the shoulders and spun her around, pointing her toward the woman with the raven black hair walking past a table littered with empty drinks. She was dressed in a blue chiffon dress that flowed around her like the ocean.
Their eyes locked.
Sydney swallowed hard and imagined herself running along the grass, sweeping the woman into her arms and kissing her until they were kicked out for indecent behavior.
But she didn’t move. Instead, she watched Morgan amble over the lawn toward her. Her heartbeat caught in her throat, and she so badly wanted one of those drinks right about now. Liquid courage, or just anything, to take this bitter taste in her mouth away.
“I’m going to leave the two of you to chat,” Liv said, smiling dumbly when Morgan finally reached them. She sent a wink in Sydney’s direction and floated off.
“I thought you weren’t coming?”
“I went to boarding school all my life,” Morgan interjected, eyes on Sydney.
Those gray irises were warmer somehow. “My parents dropped me off at boarding school when I was only eleven. That’s where I met Tessa and Chloe.
The first person I ever loved was Chloe.
That’s how I knew I was gay. I spent too many hours watching her twirl her blonde hair around her finger and pop her gum, dreaming about our first kiss.
She’d come out the year before, but I was too scared to tell her how I felt.
Then she died from a brain tumor that had been growing silently for years.
I studied medicine because of her. Though I’ve had to convince myself more times than I care to admit that I hadn’t done it to impress my cold, distant mother.
If you ever meet Deidre, be sure to dress warm. ” Morgan paused, taking a breath.
Sydney tried to imagine what had been the trigger that had changed Morgan’s mind—not only to come to the party but to open up about herself—but she couldn’t hold on to a single thought.
Not while Morgan was rushing through her life, like a list of activities she was checking off.
Sydney wanted nothing more than to absorb every word.
“I love blueberries,” Morgan pressed on.
“Not just for their antioxidants, but because they remind me of her. Cinnamon buns too, as well as Jane Austen. We read Pride and Prejudice in year nine and we both fell in love with Mr. Darcy, though I always imagined him as a Ms. Darcy. Emily Parker’s—the twelve-year-old with the medulloblastoma—death broke me for different reasons.
Yes, she reminded me of Chloe at twelve, but when Emily died, I imagined myself as Chloe’s mother, losing a child.
I don’t think anyone can truly get over something like that.
” Another deep breath in, Morgan’s voice becoming shakier by the second.
Sydney’s eyes were welling with tears, fighting the massive urge to lunge forward and wrap Morgan in her arms.
Still, Morgan went on. “I’ve spent the last two decades letting the world pass me by while I tried to save lives, hoping mothers like Chloe’s and Emily’s would never have to feel that kind of pain.
But since we met and spent time together, I’ve become scared, Sydney.
Because I know that if I let my feelings known, if I allow myself to care too much about you…
to love you… the universe might decide at any point to take you away from me.
And the last thing I want is to lose you. ” Morgan’s voice faded.
There was a beat of silence.
Sydney knew exactly what she wanted to say. It was the same thought that had been running through her mind for some time now, maybe even since that moment at the beach when Morgan had broken through her own shell and kissed her in public.
But the words tangled on her tongue.
“I want you to know me, Sydney,” Morgan whispered. Her voice was so soft Sydney barely heard her. “All of me.”
“I want nothing more.”
“I’m in love with you,” Morgan blurted. It was the very words Sydney had been thinking a second ago. “I know it’s too soon. I… I know people can’t just fall in love in a few weeks and maybe it’s—”
“I love you too,” Sydney interrupted, stepping forward. She cupped Morgan’s face in her hands, closed her eyes, and kissed her fiercely. She paused only momentarily to whisper, “And it’s never too early. When your heart speaks, it’s always good to listen.”