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“Don’t you dare look away from me. Be a man for once and take this like you should.”
Nathan ran a shaky hand through his hair and met her gaze once more. “How did you…”
“I knew all along.”
“I… How?” he asked quietly.
“I knew it in my heart long before my head got involved. It was Sara who filled me in on the reality of the situation.” She sat back. “My sister wanted blood, and you should thank me for talking her down, because Sara would have torn you apart.”
He nodded but didn’t speak.
“So you see, I know about the hurt thing. I’ve been there, and I’m over it.” She paused for a moment as that realization washed over her, because, Jesus, she really was over it. “But there are a few things I need to say, and then we’re done. I want you to know that it wasn’t okay for you to fuck my best friend.”
“Shit, Morgan.”
“I didn’t tell you that you could speak.”
He winced at her crudeness, but Morgan didn’t care. There was something liberating in that knowledge. She didn’t give a flying rat’s ass what he thought. Not anymore.
“I want you to know that using the accident as an excuse to hide your betrayal wasn’t okay. That was low. You wanted out? You should have broken things off then and there.” She eyed him closely. “Looking back, I think you liked playing the part of poor Nathan. The guy whose fiancée was horribly scarred in an accident. You liked the attention.”
“I—”
“Shut up.” It was her turn to pause as she dragged in a deep breath.
“I want you to know that making me believe I was the problem was definitely not okay. And making me feel unloved and ugly and repulsive was so far offside, you should be ashamed of yourself. All those things are a reflection of your weakness, and I'm mad that it took me so long to figure it out.”
Morgan got to her feet, not bothering to hide a wince as pain shot up her leg. “I want you to know that I’m still dealing with the fallout of that night, and even though I know I’ll get through it, some things will never go away. The pain, the memories…” Her voice broke, and she exhaled. “But that’s okay, because I’m a strong woman, and I’ve got good people in my corner. I’ve met a man who’s showed me how pathetic and shallow you are. A man who’s helped me believe in myself again.”
Nathan’s head jerked. “Cooper Simon?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Cooper Simon. All the rumors are true.”
“I don’t think he’s…” Nathan fumbled over his words. “Do you know what you’re doing? I don’t think he’s good for you.”
“Well it’s a good thing I don’t give a crap what you think, now is it?” She grabbed her purse. “Here’s something you can pass on to Christy.” Morgan paused, aware she was causing a bit of a stir but not giving a damn. The “gang of four” were three tables over, and all of them turned to watch.
“Tell her to stop messaging me and asking me if I’m okay. Tell her to stop messaging my sister or talking to anyone with an ear, wanting to know how I am. Tell her I am better than ever. I won’t give either one of you the forgiveness you’re looking for because I don’t care to. I really don’t. I hope you both have a nice life, because, honestly, you deserve each other.”
Jessie came up then, a fresh pot of coffee in her hand, a worried expression on her face.
“I’m good, Jess.” Morgan motioned toward Nathan. “But he looks like he needs one. Black with two sweeteners.”
She pushed past Jessie and headed outside. The sun was full-on shining, the birds were singing, and for the first time in forever, her steps were as light as her heart.
She found herself humming a tune as she hopped into her car and headed out toward the McLaren estate. She was looking forward to her day. Hell, to the entire week and whatever it might bring.
For a girl on the path to renewal? What a beautiful thing that was.
27
Cooper wrote like a bat out of hell. Seriously. He’d not been this inspired in years, and by five in the morning, he’d typed the last two words any author welcomes.
The end.
He took a break—made some coffee—and after a quick look-over, fired off the final draft to his agent and editor. He downed another cup and subsequently fell asleep on the sofa, waking up hours later to find the sun streaming in and hitting him in the face. Squinting, he rolled over and cursed at the pain in his stiff neck. Of course it wasn’t as bad as the pain in his head, and with a dark look thrown at the empty bottle of whiskey, Cooper staggered into the shower just off his office.
He stood under the hot spray for a long time, head down, letting the water roll over his bare back while he waited for the pain to abate. He used his hands to brace his body, and with his head resting against the cool tiles, closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of water on skin.
