Have you ever seen that Mel Gibson film Payback? The one where Mel’s character is betrayed by his wife and best friend for money. She shoots him in the back, and they both leave him for dead. Only he survives and goes after them for revenge.
Well, I’m kind of like Mel Gibson in that movie. Except I’m not a criminal, Morgan isn’t my wife, she wasn’t fucking my best friend, and she didn’t shoot me in the back even though it feels like she did.
But what she did do was betray me.
Also, I’m not going to go after her for revenge. So, actually, scrap what I just said. It was a fucking stupid analogy.
But that’s the theme of things with me at the moment when it comes to Morgan—stupid.
I pour more Jack into my glass and take a good gulp.
Yep. I’m drinking in my office during the day. Fucking sue me.
I hear a commotion outside my office. Then, my door is flying open, and a pint-sized woman with short, dark hair is barging into my office with Chrissy hot on her heels.
“Um, who are you?” God, even my voice sounds monotone.
It’s so bad that I can’t even muster up the energy to be pissed about a complete stranger just walking into my office, uninvited.
“I tried to stop her, Wilder. But she’s pretty damn fast for a small person. She even managed to get past Leah.”
I actually feel like raising a glass to this chick, whoever she is. She’s definitely got some balls. Getting past Leah and Chrissy is no easy feat.
“I’m not small.” She glares at Chrissy over her shoulder before looking back at me. “And my name is Joely Harper. I’m Morgan’s best friend.”
At the mention of Morgan, I feel like all the oxygen has just been sucked out of the room.
“Do you want me to toss her out on her ass?” Chrissy asks me.
Joely tosses a laugh over her shoulder. “I’d like to see you try.”
Yep, she’s definitely Morgan’s friend.
And I need to get Chrissy out of here before a catfight breaks out in my office. “No. It’s fine. She can stay. Can you close the door on your way out, please, Chrissy?”
Chrissy gives me a look of concern, and I give her a nod, telling her I’m fine.
She gives Joely one last angry stare and then walks out of my office.
“What can I do for you?” I ask Joely.
“Well, first off, you can pull your head out of your ass and go apologize to my best friend for breaking her heart and also for firing her.”
I laugh. She’s straight to the point; I’ve got to give her that.
“And the second thing?”
“After you’re done apologizing for both of those things, then you can beg her for her forgiveness and give her, her job back.”
I laugh again. This chick’s a riot.
“Hang on…let me think about it.” I tap my finger to my lips. “No. And no.”
“You’re a fucking idiot. You were an idiot in college, and apparently, you’re an even bigger one now.”
“And you’re a bitch. And there’s the door. Don’t let it hit your ass on the way out.” I down the rest of my whiskey and slam the glass on my desk.
She ignores me and comes over to my desk to take the seat across from me.
I blankly stare at her. “Do you have a hearing problem?”
“No, I can hear your bullshit just fine.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Did you know Morgan was in love with you in college?”
My eyes snap up to hers. “Morgan hated me in college.”
Joely unfolds her arms and leans forward. “Trust me, she was in love with you.”
“So…why…” I shake my head, trying to clear my tangled thoughts.
“Why didn’t she act like it? It’s called self-preservation. But then you’d know a little something about that, right? Isn’t that what you did yesterday when you tossed Morgan out of here? Because you thought she’d betrayed you? Isn’t that what you’re doing now while you sit here and tell yourself that you did the right thing by firing her? It’s what we do when people hurt us. We go into defensive mode and protect ourselves in the only way we know how.”
“You’re right. People do that. But here’s the thing. I never hurt Morgan in college. She just started hating on me for no fucking reason.”
She laughs now. “It was thirteen years ago and eighteen-year-old Morgan’s first term at Northwestern. She’d somehow landed the roommate from hell. Tori Watson. Ring any bells?”
I cast my mind back. Something is there, nagging in the back of my head, but I can’t reach it properly to figure it out.
“No.” I shake my head.
“Shame. I don’t know if I’d have preferred that you did remember her. And what you both did to Morgan that night.”
“I never did anything to Morgan,” I growl. I don’t like this chick’s tone or the things she’s implying.
“Morgan had just finished a shift at Starbucks. She came home and couldn’t get in her room. Tori had locked her out because she was inside, hooking up with a guy. You.” She points a finger at me. “Morgan eventually got her to open up the door. But Tori wouldn’t let her in. Told her to find somewhere else to sleep. She spent the night on my dorm room floor.”
“Bullshit. Morgan wouldn’t have stood for that. She’d have told her to fuck off.”
“The Morgan now—yeah, you’re right; she would have. The Morgan back then? Not a chance. She just took it like she did.”
“So, Tori locked her out. How is that my fault?”
“It’s not. But you just stood there and said nothing—besides offering to let her join you and Tori.”
I wince because that sounds exactly like something I would have said.
“You left Morgan with nowhere to sleep, which is shitty in itself. But it was what she heard you say after the door was closed that hurt her most.”
“And what did I apparently say?”
“Basically, you said she was fat.”
“Bullshit. I’ve never called a girl fat in my life.”
“‘Anything over a size four, and I show her the door.’”
Her words freeze in my ears. That was something Coop and I used to say when we were younger and fucking idiots.
But, no, I wouldn’t have said that about Morgan. Would I have?
“Morgan wasn’t fat in college.”
“No, she wasn’t. Not if you take the actual meaning of fat into context. But she wasn’t exactly thin either. And, to morons like you and your frat buddies, she wasn’t a size four or below; therefore, she was fat.”
I swallow back, a sick feeling starting to swirl in my stomach.
“So, she hated me for something I said that I don’t even remember saying. That’s not exactly fair. And it doesn’t excuse what she’s done to me and my family’s company.”
“You’re right; it wouldn’t be fair. If she’d actually done any of those things that you accused her of.”
“I saw the email.”
“And I saw her devastation last night. Like I did all those years ago when you stood by and let a bunch of your frat buddies call her fat at a party. You did nothing, and then you went upstairs and screwed one of her best friends. But I’m guessing you don’t remember that either.”
I close my eyes and force my mind back.
“Hannah,” I say, opening my eyes.
“Hannah,” she echoes. “So, you do remember.”
“But how was I to know? I didn’t think Morgan gave a shit about me. I didn’t know I was hurting her back then. But she knew exactly what she was doing when she went to Coveted Lingerie with her idea—our idea.”
“You know, Morgan wasn’t going to tell me about what had happened with you and Hannah because she didn’t want to cause problems between me and our so-called friend. But I know Morgan, and I knew something was wrong. It took me weeks to coax it out of her.”
“I’m sorry about the thing with Hannah. But that was then, and this is now. She sold us out.”
“Do you really believe that she would go behind your back like that?”
“I spoke to the supplier. I saw the—”
“Email. Yeah, you said. But you know what your problem is, Wilder? What your problem has always been when it comes to Morgan? You never saw her all those years ago. And you’re still not seeing her now.”
She gets up from the chair and walks toward my office door.
She pulls it open and then stops, turning back to me. “Don’t make the same mistake again with her. Because I promise you, you will regret it.”
I’m standing on the steps of Morgan’s building, my finger hovering over the buzzer to her apartment.
It’s been a day since Joely came barging into my office, giving me a piece of her mind.
And I’ve done a lot of thinking since then. In fact, it’s all I’ve thought about, and the conclusion I’ve come to is…there’s no way Morgan would have done this to me.
I know her.
And Joely was wrong when she said I didn’t see Morgan. I do. I always did.
I was just an immature kid back then. I thought I knew who I was and what I wanted out of life. I accepted what Morgan had told me at face value instead of pushing her for answers.
Because, if I had done that, then we wouldn’t have wasted the last thirteen years by not being together.
But, if Morgan had been more open with me, called me out on my dickish behavior, then I would have had to listen.
But she didn’t. And here we are.
We’re both to blame for the past. But this, right now…this is all me.
I didn’t listen to her when she told me this wasn’t her doing. I should have heard her and trusted her because she’d never given me a reason not to.
I should have known she wouldn’t have done this.
We might have had our difficulties in the past. But one thing she never was, was cruel.
Unlike me.
I take a deep breath, ready to push the buzzer, when a window opens to my left, and the wrinkled, leathery face of an old lady stares back at me.
“Um, hi,” I say.
“You a cold-caller?” She scowls.
“No, ma’am.”
“You’re not here to try to sell me Bibles, are you? Because, if I ain’t found Jesus by now, then I ain’t never gonna.”
“Um…” I look down at my thousand-dollar suit, quite frankly insulted that she thinks I’m a Bible seller. “No, ma’am, I’m not here to sell Bibles.”
“Then, what the hell are you doing, loitering on my doorstep?”
“I’m, uh, here to see Morgan.”
Her eyes narrow on me. “Oh. You the boy who made my sweet girl Morgan cry?”
She must be the rottweiler neighbor that Morgan told me about. I forget what Morgan said her name was. On the few occasions when I stayed over here, I never saw her.
And never mind her being a rottweiler. She looks like Mama Fratelli from The Goonies. I’m half-expecting her to pull a gun on me and shoot me dead.
Basically, the woman is scary as shit.
“Um…yes, ma’am.”
“You here to make her cry again?”
“Not if I can help it.”
She glares at me for a long moment. I’m pretty sure she’s trying to eviscerate me with her eyes.
Then, she disappears inside and shuts the window.
Okay.
A second later, the door buzzes open.
Guess Mama Fratelli isn’t so bad after all.
I pull open the door and head inside. I’m halfway up the stairs when Mama Fratelli’s voice stops me. I turn back and look at her.
“You make Morgan cry again, and you’ll have me to deal with. I don’t know if Morgan ever told you what I did for work before I retired. But I worked in the coroner’s office, so I know how to get rid of a body without leaving any trace. You just keep that in mind, boy.”
Nope. I was right the first time. She’s frigging terrifying.
I’m pretty sure I just pissed my pants.
I swallow down. “Yes, ma’am.”
She gives me a firm nod of her head. Then, she turns and shuffles back in her apartment.
Holy shit.
I blow out a breath as I turn and then jog up the stairs to Morgan’s apartment.
When I reach her door, a minute later, I knock on it and wait.
I hear her soft footsteps coming up the hallway and toward the door, and my heart starts to thud.
“Mrs. Bigly, is that you?” she asks through the door.
Jesus, the sound of her voice…it’s like a blade to my chest.
“No. It’s me. Wilder.”
There’s silence behind the door, and for a moment, I think she isn’t going to let me in. Then, I hear the sound of a chain being removed and the door unlocking. The door opens to reveal Morgan.
It’s only been a few days since I last saw her, but it feels like it’s been an eternity.
Her face is clean of makeup. Her eyes are puffy, like she’s been crying—my fault.
Fuck, I’m an asshole.
Her hair is scraped back in a messy bun, and she’s wearing an old Northwestern sweater with black leggings.
And she is still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
How did I live my life the last nine years without her in it? Actually, scrap that. How the fuck did I meet her thirteen years ago and not make her mine the very instant I laid eyes on her?
I’m a fucking moron.
“What do you want?” she says, her voice cold.
“To talk.”
“If you’re here to yell at me again, then you can just turn around and leave.”
“I’m not here to yell. Just talk, I promise. Can I…come in?”
She hesitates, sizing me up with her eyes. Then, she steps back and moves aside, allowing me entry.
I step inside her apartment. As I pass her, the scent of her overwhelms me. So much so that I have to stop myself from grabbing her, wrapping my arms around her, burying my face in her hair, and begging for her forgiveness.
Somehow, I don’t think that would be welcomed.
I need to apologize first. Tell her how I feel about her. And then, after that, if she still hasn’t forgiven me, get to the begging part.
I follow Morgan into the living room.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asks.
Even though I’ve been the world’s biggest jerk, she’s still polite enough to offer me a drink.
She’s fucking perfect.
And I’m an idiot.
“Water would be great, thanks.”
I take a seat on the sofa while I wait for her to come back.
She appears a few minutes later.
“Thanks,” I say when she hands me the water.
She sits in the chair across from me. I take a sip of water and then put it down on the coffee table.
I’m not really a guy who gets nervous. Right now, I’m nervous.
I lean forward, arms on my thighs, and I clasp my hands together as I look her in the face. “I’m sorry, Morgan,” I say. “So fucking sorry. For everything. For a couple of days ago. For accusing you of going to Coveted Lingerie and for the shitty things I said. I know you didn’t go to them and sell them the idea.”
“How do you know?” she bats back at me.
“Because I know you. I let the evidence override what I’d already known—that you would never do something like that to the company…to me.”
“How do you know that? You’ve only known me for a month.”
“I’ve known you for thirteen years. We might have spent most of those years apart, but I knew you in college, and I know you now.”
She laughs, and it sounds bitter. “You didn’t know me in college.”
“Actually, no, you’re right. I didn’t know all of you in college, not like I do now. Back then, I only knew what you allowed me to know. And I know that’s my fault, too.”
A question flickers in he
r eyes, so I answer, “Your friend Joely came to see me yesterday.” I see a multitude of emotions cross her face, one of them worry.
“What did she say to you?”
“Things I needed to hear. And some things that you should have told me.”
“Such as?”
“How you had feelings for me in college. How I hurt you on numerous occasions because I was a stupid, immature kid. I’m sorry for Tori and Hannah”—she winces, and I feel sick—“and for the shitty things I did and said.”
Her expression shuts down. “I don’t want to go over the past.”
“We need to go over the past,” I tell her. “All these years, I thought you hated me back in college. I thought you were judgmental, but that wasn’t the case, was it? You were just protecting yourself.”
She nods her head.
“Talk to me,” I say gently.
She closes her eyes, like she can’t look at me and say the words. “I had a crush on you back then.” She opens her eyes but doesn’t look at me. “And, of course, seeing you with Tori hurt, but I can’t blame you for that because you didn’t know how I felt. But you said…” Her lip trembles.
“I never thought you were fat, babe.”
She winces, and I want to go back in time and punch the idiot kid that I was in the face. “I know what I said, and it was a dickish, stupid thing to say. I was a dumb kid, and I hurt the one person who never deserved to be hurt.”
“But it wasn’t just that. You stood by while your friends said mean things about me, and you never once said anything to stop them.”
“I hate that I did that. I hate that I don’t even remember. I can’t change the past. All I can do is try to make up for it and apologize for my dickish behavior back then…and now.”
“You slept with my friend Hannah.”
“I know.” I scrub my hands over my face.
“I know you had no clue how I felt about you in college, but I always felt invisible to you, and I put that down to you thinking that…I wasn’t good enough for you. And I still feel the same.”
“Fuck no.”
I’m off the sofa, kneeling at her feet, grabbing hold of her hands. She doesn’t hold mine back, but she doesn’t push me away either, so I take that as a good thing.
“I’m not good enough for you. I wasn’t back then. And I’m not now. But I’m selfish enough to tell you that I’m in love with you. I fucking love you, Morgan, and I need you.”
Under Her Page 19