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“You can’t just ambush me at work,” I tell her in an artic voice.
“It’s the only place where I know you’ll have a civil conversation.”
“There’s nothing civil about you being married with a kid, Morgan.”
She continues to stand at the door, barely moving yet still remaining composed. “We need to talk, Noah, Please?”
Staring at the floor, I avoid meeting her eyes. The pain is etched all over her face, but who says she even feels pain? Maybe it’s guilt for treating me like shit. Just your run-of-the-mill guilty conscience when you know you screwed someone over but only have yourself to blame.
Just like you did with Benny.
“What’s there to talk about? I was a fool. You lied. I got played. End of story.”
She moves a few feet closer. “No, Noah. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself... the situation.”
“The situation? The fact that you’re married?”
“Separated.”
I laugh at the ridiculous technicality. “Such a loose word. That’s what they all say, ‘I’m separated.’ Because it gives you the right to fuck around.”
“But it gives you the right to prey on women even though you know they’re not over their ex?” she argues back.
And right there, she made it all clear. Not over an ex.
“I think, Morgan, you made yourself perfectly clear. So tell me, why should I even bother with you now? That would be a hasty decision because you’re not over your ex... husband.”
“Noah, please. This is hard... don’t do this to me,” she pleads, keeping her cries at bay.
“Do this to you?” I raise my voice. “This wasn’t in my plan. You weren’t in my plan! This is supposed to be a new life for me. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you!”
“No. Just Scarlett, right?”
“Fuck you,” I tell her and fumble for the keys to my car while ignoring the fact that she’s standing there about to cry. Every part of me wants to run to her and beg her to choose me. Not him. But my pride, it won’t allow it. I refuse to be second best.
I stand up, pretending to ignore her as I walk past while she calls my name. She’s only a few feet away but her scent has invaded my office, making it nearly impossible to walk away at this moment.
“Noah, please, let me explain to you.”
I hold back, uncertain as to why. I hate she has something over me. That my pride and ego are willing to stand still for just a moment to listen to her.
“Michael is technically not my son. He’s my stepson.”
I hate to admit that upon hearing those words it makes me feel slightly better, though I will never admit it to her. I continue to stand in silence, unsure as to why I feel the need to listen to her explanation when the damage has already been done.
“Michael has special needs. I don’t know if you know much about it but he has a-autism,” she continues, the crack in her voice filtering through. “Wyatt and I have joint custody of him and every second week he spends time with his mother.”
She moves her gaze to the floor, shuffling her feet anxiously. “Last year, Wyatt and I decided to go our own ways. We thought it would be easy but Michael took it hard. We’d worked so hard to create a stable home environment for him. He reacted poorly, and his behavior changed, sleeping became difficult for him. The school was concerned for him. He doesn’t adapt well to change of any kind. There are ways around it, ways we need to adapt. But it’s a prolonged process that takes a lot of dedication from both of us, his mother, teachers, and our therapists. We saw a behavioral specialist last year, and Wyatt and I agreed that for now, we would continue to live in the same house and transition the move slowly.”
She takes a breath, waiting for me to respond. I don’t have words, or at least my words make no sense in my head. I don’t know a thing about autism. The kid didn’t look any different at Scarlett’s house, so I don’t understand at all what she’s going on about.
“You lied, Morgan.”
“I had no choice, Noah. I didn’t expect any of this. I didn’t expect you to walk into my life... you just pissed me off so much I couldn’t think straight. I wanted to tell you, but I knew when I did, you’d act exactly the way you did.”
“What the fuck do you expect?” I yell.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know the truth.” She straightens her posture and stares directly at me. “So where to now?”
