A part of her, a naive part, perhaps, had half-expected her levels of anxiety to return to normal, for her breathing to become more regulated knowing that her life would no longer be a horror movie, and yet another part of her, a more rational part, understood that the anxiety would remain, if only because her life was no longer a romance movie, either.
Explaining the break-up to her friends didn’t bother her presently; even explaining it to her family didn’t bother her. The fundamentals of the break-up seemed trivial in comparison to the weight of the break-up itself. The fundamentals were nothing more than a feather, but theloss, that deep feeling of disconnect in the pit of her stomach, it felt like the entireuniverse had taken a day off and elected instead to sit on her chest and suffocate her.
Her first thought after that was to situate herself in the kitchen, or even the living room, perhaps, if she was prepared to do so. Her second thought, as she sat down in the hallway, crossing her legs upon the floor as opposed to sitting at their desk a mere two feet away, was to remain in the hallway beside the bedroom, in limbo. She was no longer looking at Morgan, but she could hear her, and, more importantly, Morgan’s body was still in close proximity to hers. Closer than she would have been should she have moved to the kitchen or living room.
It made little sense, even to herself, why she desired to be as close to Morgan as she could without breaking down, despite being the one that had pushed her away. But she reminded herself then that both parties were culpable in this instance. Morgan had pushed in a less literal sense than Lee had, she just hadn’t explicitly said aloud that she was doing it.
Upon hearing the suitcase zip itself shut, Lee closed her eyes and exhaled, her mind working against her as it made the comparison to being seated on a rollercoaster beside Morgan on one of their first dates. Morgan had held her hand, then; she wouldn’t be holding it now.
The bedroom door opened with a creak, and Lee could still feel the weight of the universe pressed against her chest, even as she stood. She wasn’t sure why she was standing, now, exactly. She also wasn’t sure what the etiquette dictated in situations such as this one. Standing, if anything, perhaps complicated things, because it opened the door to hugging one another goodbye, or sharing one final kiss. That only made the break-up feel that much more palpable—either they would kiss once more, and only once, never to kiss one another again, or, worse, acknowledge that their final kiss might have already happened.
As Morgan stepped out of the bedroom, she looked at Lee for a moment, before her eyes diverted directly towards the front door. The voice inside Lee was begging, praying even, to an unknown entity, that Morgan would do something, anything, to acknowledge her not with her eyes, but with her body.
And yet, as the woman she loved walked past her now, edging closer towards the door, it was then that Lee realized that she would likely never acknowledge her in such a way again.
Morgan Finch turned her attention back towards Lee, her suitcase handle in one hand, and her hair in the other, playing with it, absent-mindedly. This was something that at times had infuriated Lee but at present time it was a ritual she so desperately craved to witness. Even now, however, as she looked at Lee, their eyes meeting, it felt as if Morgan were looking at a ghost, or the shadow of her without actually looking at her directly. “I guess I’ll be seeing you,” she said, catching Lee off-guard. The words felt so open-ended, which didn’t pair well with how conclusive everything felt.Whenwould they be seeing each other? Five years together, and only six words sat between them. How did five years together boil down to pleasantries exchanged like “I guess I’ll be seeing you?”
Lee Holmes knew more about Morgan now than she had ever known, making her the farthest from a stranger than she had ever been. So why did it feel like they were more estranged to one another now than when they first met around a campfire? “Yeah,” she offered back, quietly, formulating the word before she could even process her thought pattern any further. “See you later.”
She wasn’t sure when later was, she had established that herself mentally just seconds earlier, but when the door closed behind Morgan, and the hallway became silent, with nothing to occupy the space but her thoughts, she told herself that later just might become the death of her.
It was then that she decided that oblivion was definitely worse.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Cheese and wine night at the Myers residence primarily involved a vast amount of merlot and a lack of one, Morgan Finch. It was odd, Lee thought, taking a seat upon the couch as she leaned forward to retrieve her first glass of many; somehow she felt an absence in the room for the woman she loved, despite the fact that even when Morganwasher girlfriend, she had never attended these nights with her regardless.
Sipping her merlot, she tried not to focus on what Morgan might have been getting up to every Wednesday whilst Lee was away, eating cheese and crackers. She could hear it now in her mind, the words that Morgan had relayed to her in their living room those many months back.I think it’ll be good for you to have a routine and get out of the apartment once a week to spend time with the girls.Perhaps it was her design to get Lee out of the house, if only so she couldn’t witness Morgan’s own departure from the apartment for activities that didn’t involve wine, or cheese.
Lee Holmes sighed, and despite not being hungry, attempted a bite of a slice of brie wedged between two beetroot crackers,if only to stifle the noise inside her mind with the crunch as she bit down. When the act was futile, she gazed over towards Kat, and Sienna, whom of which were sitting closer than usual, she observed, sipping wine and having a quiet conversation to themselves. In an attempt not to disturb them, she instead turned towards Natalie on the opposite side of the room tucked into an armchair beside the fire, who was currently plucking out a piece of cat hair from her glass. “I love having cheese and wine at Kat’s house. It’s the animal fur in my drink that really adds a wonderful texture to the wine,” she commented, sarcastically.
Snickering into her own, less hairy wine after finishing her brie and crackers, Lee felt a sense of gratitude at that moment that despite everything changing around her, Natalie was very much still the same audacious woman she always was. “I’ll have you know, any attack involving Sir Thaddeus Pawcival III is an attack on us all.”
Lee found herself surprised when Natalie placed her glass down upon the mahogany table and stared at her with a sense of concern. “Pet humor aside, how are you doing? I mean, how are youreallydoing? I don’t want any of that ‘I’m fine, don’t worry about me’ bullshit.”
Natalie’s way with words, or lack thereof, perhaps, was something Lee had always appreciated about her close friend. Lee decided a long time ago after being on the receiving end of this question many times that some people upon checking up on others simply craved a lie, sighing in relief when receiving an “I’m fine” in response, as if desperate to escape a conversation they themselves had designed in the first place. Natalie, however, only craved the truth, and Lee would provide as much truth as she could, without exposing the secrets underneath that were far more sinister.
“I feel like my brain has been run over by a garbage truck, and then that same garbage truck reversed over me again just forgood measure. I might sound cheesier than the brie right now, but honestly, it’s weird how distorted everything feels without Morgan. It’s like I got used to sleeping with the sounds of white noise only for the sound to just…stop, all of a sudden. And now the silence is deafening.”
Lee was taken aback by her own words, unsure whether to sigh in relief that it was now out in the open, or to run as far away as possible from everyone she’d ever come into contact with in her lifetime. She opted for the former, if only so that she could remain in this room with the bottle of merlot that was currently occupying the living room table.
Natalie Thatcher wasn’t one for physical affection, which at present time, Lee was thankful for. She thought at that moment that if anyone tried to comfort her with a hug she just might combust. “That sounds completely awful, babe. I’m not going to pretend I can resonate with what you’re going through because my longest relationship consists of the flirting going on between me and the guy who works at Hawthorne Hotel behind the salad bar, but what I will say is that you’re young and sexy and any woman, man, or otherwise would be lucky to have you.”
Whilst Lee Holmes didn’t completely agree with the sentiment, having had only two relationships in her life, including Morgan, she did appreciate who it came from. “Thanks hon,” she offered back, taking another sip of her wine. “Although, I think I’ve already had my fill of dating for the foreseeable future. For now, I’ll live vicariously through you and your man at the salad bar.”
“Personally, I’d sooner live vicariously through the life of a painter as I watched the walls dry than observe the tragedy of my romantic relationships, or lack thereof, but suit yourself,” Natalie shrugged, grabbing a breadstick from the table as she bit down with a slight crunch. “At the very least you should buy asexy new dress that highlights your stunning cleavage and take an appropriate number of selfies to make Morgan weep.”
“Who are we making weep?” Sienna asked from the other side of the room, partaking in the conversation now that Kat had seemingly excused herself, half of the couch newly unoccupied.
“Morgan,” both Natalie and Lee said in unison, with an “apparently,” added to Lee’s own response, more hesitant in relation to the plan than Natalie was.
“Well, fuck,” Kat chimed in, making her presence known as she walked into the room once again with two unopened bottles of merlot. “Perhaps we should at least drink a little more first before we start plotting someone’s emotional downfall.”
Kat’s skinny arms strained against one of the bottles of wine as she sat down, a corkscrew planted firmly inside that was refusing to budge. After a few grunts Sienna reached over, taking the bottle from her as their hands grazed each other’s for a fraction of a second too long, Lee noticed. Sienna made little work of the bottle, opening it almost immediately after taking it from Kat. “Thank goodness you’re pretty,” Sienna commented, pouring a glass for Kat now that the bottle was open before pouring one for herself.
Watching the pair of them fumble around one another flirtatiously was a welcoming change as far as Lee was concerned. Sienna smiled so effortlessly around Kat now, as if the walls from her past relationship were already coming down. As the toxicity of her thoughts creeped in, the observation became more bittersweet, pondering over the notion that Lee wished the walls Morgan and herself had built around themselves stayed permanent forever, inside their own toxic bubble where they deserved one another.
When Natalie decided to bring up the latest reality TV show she was watching, Lee was grateful that she had opted not to ask questions about the potentially blossoming romance occurringon the couch, allowing them time to figure things out in their own, less toxic, bubble. She wouldn’t admit it aloud, but in some ways, she was envious. There was a sense of normality to it all—something she herself had with Morgan once upon a time, but it had died the second that Edward Beckett did. And yet, perhaps the worst part of it all was that she onlywantedto want the normality, because after receiving a taste of the abnormal, she realized only now that she was missing it, which was a bit like missing a kick in the teeth when she truly thought about it.
