Chapter 45 045
EMILY
“I’m so stupid, Mo.”
The words fell out of my mouth the second I stepped inside her house, like they had been waiting behind my teeth the whole drive over. My voice cracked on the last word, thin and useless.
The silence in my own place after Ryan picked up Zara had been unbearable. No cartoons playing. No crayons scattered across the floor. Just the echo of my thoughts bouncing off the walls and getting louder by the minute.
I had grabbed my keys and driven straight here before I could talk myself out of it.
Morgan locked the door behind me and leaned against it for a second, arms folded, studying me the way she always did when she knew something big was coming.
“Calm down, Miss Drama,” she said gently. “Sit. Breathe. Now tell me what is going on.”
I dropped my bag on the floor and sank onto her couch like my bones had suddenly turned to water. My hands were shaking. I pressed them together, fingers lacing and unlacing, and sucked in a breath that felt too sharp for my chest.
“I had sex with Ryan last night.”
It came out fast and slurred, like I was afraid the words would hurt me if I said them clearly.
Morgan froze mid-step. For a full second, the room was silent. Then her lips parted. Then they curved upward. Slowly. Deliberately. Her eyes lit up the way they did when a plot twist hit just right.
She turned to face me fully and clasped her hands under her chin. “I am going to need you to repeat that,” she said, voice dangerously calm. “Because I think I just heard something incredible.”
I groaned and covered my face with both hands. My cheeks burned. “Please do not make this worse than it already is.”
“Oh, I will absolutely make it worse,” she said, walking closer like she was savoring every step. “Now repeat it, Em. Slowly.”
I peeked at her through my fingers and sighed. “I had sex with Ryan last night.”
She screamed. Actually screamed. High-pitched and sharp and full of joy, the kind of scream that usually followed surprise engagements or dramatic reality show finales. She dropped onto the couch beside me and grabbed my arm. “Are you serious right now?”
I nodded, eyes squeezed shut. “Unfortunately, yes.”
She laughed, then stopped abruptly when she saw my face. The grin softened. Her hand loosened on my arm. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Okay. Tell me everything.”
I swallowed. “I told him it was a mistake this morning.”
Her eyebrows knit together. “You did what?”
“And he looked like I’d just slapped him,” I said, my voice going small. “Like I’d punched a hole straight through his chest.”
Morgan exhaled slowly and shifted closer, her shoulder brushing mine. “Why would you say that?”
I leaned back and stared at the ceiling, blinking hard. “I do not know. I really do not. I think I thought he was going to say it first. I wanted to say it before he could. He has said so many times since he came back that nothing can ever happen between us again. I guess I wanted to protect myself.”
She nodded, thoughtful. “By hurting him first.”
I winced. “When you say it like that, it sounds really bad.”
“It sounds honest,” she replied gently.
I closed my eyes. “Back in high school, Ryan and I broke up so many times. Over the dumbest things. Jealousy. Misunderstandings. Pride. And every single time, he came back. Sometimes he was the one who messed up. Sometimes I was. But he always showed up. With apologies. With patience. With this stupid, relentless hope that we could fix it.”
Morgan stayed quiet, letting me talk.
“And Aaron,” I continued, my chest tightening. “Aaron never liked me. He said Ryan deserved better. He said I would ruin him. I used to get so angry about that. But sometimes I wonder if he was right.”
Morgan sighed and reached for my knee, squeezing it softly. “Have you actually talked to Ryan? I mean really talked. Not dancing around things. Not arguing. A real conversation where you both say what you are feeling.”
I opened my eyes and stared at the carpet. The fibers blurred as my thoughts spun. “I thought we had,” I said slowly, my voice barely above a whisper, “but now I am not sure.”
Morgan tilted her head, studying me with that knowing look she always had. “Then maybe it’s time to do that,” she said. “Tell him what you want. Ask him what he wants. You and Ryan have always been terrible at saying the important things out loud.”
Her words landed like a punch and a comfort all at once. A memory flashed through my mind: Frederick’s easy smile, the way he always seemed to fill the empty spaces in my life, the attention I had mistaken for love. And then Ryan—how he had tried, time and again, to fix us.
Maybe it was my turn. Maybe it was time to stop running.
I nodded slowly, letting the thought settle in. “Fair enough.”
Morgan’s face softened, and she reached over. I leaned into her hug, wrapping my arms around her. She smelled like vanilla and laundry detergent and home, and for a moment, the world outside that smell didn’t exist. “Thank you,” I murmured. “I really wish I had met you back in high school.”
She laughed, smacking my backside lightly. “We would have caused so much trouble.”
I laughed too, shaky but real, letting the sound fill the room. “Yeah. We really would have.”
The moment lingered, and then her phone buzzed sharply, cutting through the quiet. She glanced at the screen, and her face went bright red.
“Naughty Aaron,” I read aloud, teasing.
She swatted at me, flustered. “It’s not what it looks like,” she said quickly, her words tumbling out.
I raised an eyebrow, suspicious. “Is that so?”
Before she could answer, the doorbell rang. Morgan groaned, tossing her phone onto the couch. “Speak of the devil.”
My heart jumped into my throat. “I’ll get it,” I said, already moving toward the door.
She shot me a warning look, but I didn’t pause.
I pulled the door open, and there he was—Aaron, standing there with his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.