"Family is family, and is not determined by marriage certificates, divorce papers, and adoption documents. Families are made in the heart. The only time family becomes null is when those ties in the heart are cut. If you cut those ties, those people are not your family. If you make those ties, those people are your family. And if you hate those ties, those people will still be your family because whatever you hate will always be with you."

Chris Omar Vaughn

"I'm going to have an attack..." Morgan gasped at the outside table.

I put my hand on hers. "What kind of attack?"

"Any of them," she answered quickly. "All of them!"

I laughed, she wasn't serious. "You're being dramatic. Breathe."

"You don't understand, I haven't seen these people in years," she replied, pulling the glass of water from her lips.

I watched her suck up the drops of moisture and couldn't help myself from thinking about how I wanted to bite her lip.

"Chris, do you hear me?" Her voice rang in my ears.

"Huh?"

She sucked her teeth. "Nothing."

I chuckled, finishing coloring the paper the waitress gave me. Well, I asked for it but it was supposed to be for Morgan, to calm her nerves.

It wasn't a bad day out so we took advantage and had lunch together even though I had to return to work after.

"Here you are," the waitress, Emily, sang.

She presented the both of us with our food - just pizza and fries. We thought that would be good for the four of us. That is, if her parents ever showed.

"Excuse me, are you still using these chairs?" A random woman asked us.

"No, you can take them," Morgan sighed.

I slapped her hand and brought the chairs back to our table.

"We're using them. Thanks." I hissed at the woman.

She gave me a dirty look and then returned to the meaningless conversation with her friends.

Morgan took the first slice of pizza and bit it, instantly regretting it once she realized how hot it was.
She ate it anyway, not caring, blowing it off while the food was in her mouth.

I laughed, shaking my head, as I doused the fries in vinegar.

"Seriously? What if they don't like vinegar on their fries, babe? You ruined them." Morgan whined.

I made a straight face and popped some into my mouth, not caring.

"Excuse me. Emily, can we please have another basket of fries?" Morgan asked.

Emily obliged happily and let us know that she'd be right back.

My eyes fell on Morgan's breasts, spilling out of her shirt and onto the table.

"What if they get bigger?" I asked.

Morgan looked around, confused, and then found my eyes fixed on her chest.

"They better not," she mumbled, mouth full of pizza.

"They will, I read about it," I said, smiling as my eyebrows popped.

Morgan cut her unhappy eyes from me and grumbled something I didn't catch.

I laughed at her, trying to keep things fun. "Wanna hear a boob joke that'll really give you a lift?"

Morgan made a face and said, "No?"

Then I raised an eyebrow and she caught on. That was the joke.

She finally cracked up. "You're so stupid."

"Okay, okay," I chuckled, thinking of another one.

"What type of bees make milk?"

Morgan thought about it then shrugged her shoulders.

I couldn't keep it together to tell the joke at first.

"Boobies!" I revealed the answer and held my laughter in.

Morgan faked a cymbal crash and applauded me for the corny jokes I read online.

"Last one, alright?"

Morgan nodded, taking a drink of water, letting me go on.
She had been really good already about eating well and drinking lots of water. Her sleep has been all over the place lately, she's just discovered naps and not looked back, but she's not falling asleep at night as easy as she used to.

I pushed my tongue in my cheek, thinking of the best one I had.

"Why are the saggy boobs angry?"

"Boobs?" She questioned my youthful terminology.

I waved my hand, rushing her. "Just, come on."

She giggled. "I don't know, why?"

"'Cause they never get any support." I heckled.

"Ohhhhh!" Morgan's voice boomed, sarcastically hyping up the bad jokes.

The lady at the next table over glared at us.

"Do you mind?" Her old ass snapped.

"Do you mind?" Morgan returned, energy matched.

"Hmph!" The white-haired lady huffed.

I was impressed by Morgan actually having a comeback for the Karen, and not just "peace and loving" her to death unlike usual.

Morgan's blue-green eyes stayed on the woman a moment longer before she flipped the blonde hair over her shoulder and started mouthing off.

"I don't know what her problem is. She should be happy, senior citizens get fifteen perfect off," Morgan made me laugh.

The elderly lady snapped her wrinkled neck back to us and said, "I can hear you, you know!?"

"I didn't whisper it," Morgan argued.

"Okay, okay," I spoke up, trying to compose myself but I was really laughing at this whole exchange.

I liked the feisty side of Morgan, I missed it since she first moved here - when we had beef. Ah, I missed those cat-and-mouse days with her, but I wouldn't change how we are now for nothing.

"They're not coming, Chris." Morgan sunk in the chair, discouraged. It wasn't like her, but she let her head and smile fall, in a bad mood.

"Hey," I raised my voice slightly, pushing my finger in the table. "did you not call and ask them to meet you here?"

"Yes!" She whined like a kid, face frowned.

"But-"

"But nothing," I countered. "now just give it a second."

"It's been a lot of seconds! This is embarrassing, how do you get stood up by your own parents?"

"—It's so cold here how do these people function?" I heard a woman complaining.

Morgan sat up all too fast, almost getting lightheaded.

I take it that was Kelsey Bennett, her mother. She was thin and blonde with the biggest blue eyes I'd ever seen, complimented by the many layers of cakes mascara on her top and bottom eyelashes. She was trailed by a man no taller than six feet even, I'm sure. He was bald with a full brown beard and mustache, some greys sprinkled in there.

They were Morgan's parents alright, I could tell by their big, hopeful smiles. But these people didn't look like the type of monsters Morgan described? In fact, quite the opposite, they looked happy about this little reunion.

"Hey, Mom. Dad." Morgan addressed them.

The couple stood there, choked up, not knowing exactly what to say first.

"You really are beautiful, all grown up," her mother beamed.

"You're not our little girl anymore," the father said, grinning big. That's definitely where Morgan gets her big ass smile from, Callie said she's had the same once since elementary school.

Morgan looked at them and then stood and wrapped her arms around them both.

"Oh!" Mrs.Bennett cried out.

The hug lasted so long I felt out of place.

"A-hem!" I cleared my throat.

"Sit down." Morgan talked with relief. "We got pizza, I hope that's okay?"

They still didn't acknowledge me.

"Pizza is great, sweetie. Thanks," Kelsey talked, smiling.

"So this is Chris?" Owen spoke. He sounds a lot like the father from Get Out, it was almost funny. I almost told him that to make conversation but I didn't know if he was cool enough to have seen that movie.

"Chris!" Kelsey exclaimed, looking between Morgan and I. She then grinned and winked at her daughter.

"We heard so much about you from Callie and Quinn. It's nice to meet you."

I didn't know Callie had such high praise for me, but that's nice. The feeling is not mutual.

"Nice to meet you, too. Both of you," I played nice.

Morgan squeezed my arm and kept her head on my shoulder as I read her parents some more.

Owen, he had some tattoos. Some were in other languages and I don't know if he knew what they meant but I wanted to give my girl's father a little more credit. I liked that he had ink, probably something we could connect over.

Kelsey looked like an airhead, I'm sorry. The type of woman to do whatever he husband says. I don't like that. She was a nice looking fifty-year-old woman, though, just very thin.

My eyes fell on her chest that was covered by a sweater but I could tell she didn't have, um, how should I say— she wasn't blessed in the bosom. Yeah. I don't know where Morgan got her breasts from 'cause Callie didn't have them, either.

"—so I cut my breasts off." I caught the end of Kelsey's speech. Oh.

I looked around and made sure no one caught me observing my girlfriend's mother's chest.

Morgan looked saddened. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were actually sick."

"What do you mean 'actually'?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed.

Morgan tightened her mouth. "Huh?"

I laughed, remembering that's the excuse she told Malcolm when we went away for my birthday.

"Nevermind. So, tell us everything! How's life?" Mrs.Bennett raved, putting her chin in her hands.

Morgan hung her head for a second and sighed. "Um, I'd love to, but after I get some answers."

"Right into it, huh?" Owen blew air from his cheeks.

"It's been all these years but I need to know: why'd you let me go with Callie?"

Mister and Misses Bennett exchanged a look and used their telepathy to decide who was going to take that one. It was Misses Bennett who bit first.

"Morgan, we never wanted that to happen. You just kind of chose her, and we let you. We shouldn't have, but I think you would've ran away to be with her, anyway," she answered.

"I was eight."

"We know. As parents we should've done more, but we were just at a loss with Callie at the time, and you absolutely idolized her, how could we keep you apart?"

Morgan shook her head. "You knew how she was, she was no where near ready to take care of a child. Why didn't you come back for me?"

"You never said anything."

"I didn't think I needed to! You saw Callie: depressed, constantly drinking, partying, and sleeping around. Is that what you wanted for me?"

Owen reached for his daughter's hand but she pulled away.

"We sent money, checked on you every once in a while. You clearly turned out fine." He said.

"You're not a parent so you wouldn't understand," Kelsey added, earning an assuring head nod from her husband.

"You're right, I'm not," Morgan paled, letting her eyes drift away from her parents.

I didn't know what to say after a few minutes of silence so I just offered everyone more pizza.

"Could you pass the fries?" Asked Mrs.Bennett.

Morgan kindly handed her the fresh basket.

Mrs.Bennett then reached for the vinegar herself.

"You like vinegar on your fries?" I asked the older couple.

"Oh, we love it," Mrs.Bennett exclaimed, drowning her steak-cut fries.

I nudged Morgan with a boastful look on my face because I was right, like always, about them liking vinegar on their fries.

"Is it our turn to ask a question?" Kelsey wondered aloud.

I got nervous and I'm not even their child, I can only imagine how Morgan's feeling.

"Sure," Morgan squeaked eagerly.

Mr.Bennett looked at his wife, encouraging her to ask away, and she finally did.

"Callie told us about this odd situation with Malcolm..." Mrs.Bennett brought up.

Shit.

These two aren't exactly getting any parent of the year awards but I doubt they'll give us their blessing here. . .

Morgan visibly got triggered at the mention of her older sister's name and had to contain herself to answer.

"And what did she say?"

"Nothing that's our business. You're a grown girl." Said Kelsey.

Owen nodded, smiling. They were just so smug, there's no other way to explain it. No other facial expressions than those small, self-satisfied smiles.

"We support whatever you do," her father claimed.

"Okay, but I'm not with Malcolm. I'm with Chris." Morgan's bright voice came as a serenade in my ears.

I smiled with pride, loving the way her words stroked my ego. Not that I needed it.

"Well, cheers to Chris," Owen toasted, raising his glass.

I laughed because we were only drinking water, lemonade, or soda, but I raised mine anyway.

"To Chris!" Morgan and her mother synchronized.

***

Later that night was something out of a movie. I never could've imagined a more perfect night.

Everyone was there, my parents, Morgan's family, Jasmine and Jabari, and the Jones's, even Quinn! The Porter's watched her for the majority of the night, though, if Morgan wasn't bouncing her around.

We met at The Barns by Bennington, renovated barns that were usually rented out for parties or wedding venues. The owner, Connie Bennington and her wife had an intimate private event that my mother was invited to earlier in the week.
When I asked her after lunch what she was doing so I could introduce her to Morgan's parents, she invited us all over. Naturally, we made it a party. Beer, finger food, social games —that Morgan made me sit out of because my competitive side was conflicting with her father already— the girls taking selfies under the string lights, and some good music at a tolerable volume.

I figured my parents would get along with The Bennett's but I didn't know they'd hit it off the way they did. The four of them immediately clicked and spent the night laughing in each other's faces, getting to know one another. That made me smile.

Seemed like everything was coming together in our lives, I couldn't be happier.

After Morgan got closure with her parents over lunch, we went back to their hotel room and spent some time together, just killing the daylight. The Bennett's let me know they actually liked me a lot, Owen even shook my hand and called me "son" once.  They congratulated us on the pregnancy and said we'd make good parents, asking Morgan if they can be there for their second grandchild. Of course she said yes, but she had her reserves, so did I.
Their energy was weird because they acted like nothing happened the last almost two decades, but Morgan didn't seem to care, she was just happy it was behind them.

My buzz from the two and a half beers I chugged were catching up to me. What? There was a keg, I couldn't turn it down; especially when JB challenged me in front of Connie's other guests who also wanted to do kegstands and just needed the first bad influence to start the trend. I.e., yours truly.

I found Morgan at the high-top bar table with the women.

I nestled my nose in her hair and didn't mean to, but found myself taking in the coconut smell of her shampoo. It was entrancing, or I was just drunk.

Morgan giggled, bringing my arms around her body.

I stopped my hands at her stomach, remembering there's a baby in there.

"Aww!" one woman cooed.

"Have you thought of any names, yet?" Asked Kelsey.

Before Morgan Ann or myself could reply, Jasmine spoke up like she even had a say.

"I was thinking Grace, Ivy, Madison, or Victoria." She talked, waving her half-eaten fried chicken leg about as she did.

"Um, no." I shot her down quickly.

Morgan just laughed as Jasmine popped her gums at me and mumbled how she should be involved in the decision making process because she's the Godmother.

Either way, I didn't care about any names or whatever reason behind them. It didn't matter, not to me. If we have a boy, though, that's a different story. Although, I'm pretty sure she'll be a girl. My mom guessed I'd have a daughter first and she's usually pretty good at guessing that sort of shit.

"—and you're going to breastfeed?" Asked Kelsey.

Morgan nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"Your poor back." Jasmine commented, sipping her cocktail.

Morgan laughed. "What?"

Jasmine's shoulders hitched. "I'm just saying, them things are gonna grow, then what? They get so big they'll have their own zip code?"

The table laughed, I let her have that one. I was thinking the same thing before, but bigger breasts is a nice problem to have, I'll say. No complaints here.

"I don't care about that. Will it make my ass grow? I feel like I'm all legs." Morgan complained, only half serious.

"You don't need a bigger ass," My mother assured Morgan with an eye roll. That was easy coming from her, she always complained about being a "thick" woman, and hated the recent BBL craze.

Morgan slouched in the seat, her face gone into a frown. "I have a little bit of ass, yeah, but I'm shaped like the letter 'P.'"

All of the women's eyes shot to me.

I stopped the aluminum can from hitting my lips and blinked at them. "What, I'm not going to complain about a bigger ass?"
Although, hers is already perfect. Tight and round, and—

"Boo!" They scolded me, but playfully.

I cracked up at this conversation, pulling Morgan away with me before they filled her head with more pregnancy horror stories.

"You're perfect like this, you know that, right?" I made sure Morgan knew.

We wound up on the dance floor and had no other choice but to bring our bodies close and step to the country music playing. Country, not my favorite ever but it went with the moment, you could say, and I wasn't mad at the lyrics or vocalist for a change.

"Yes, Chris," she pushed out, forming a smile as her arms wrapped around my neck.

"You tell me everyday."

I grinned in her face. "As long as you know."

Her cheeks started to blush, it was cute. I liked that when I touched her or simply gave a compliment, she reacts like it's the first time every time.

"You survived my father's interrogation, I guess that means you're not that bad." She hummed.

My hands dropped lower on her body in the long knit ribbed grey dress she wore. The fabric was soft and shaped the hips she was previously complaining about.
Under the dress, she wore sheer black stockings and black boots to combat the weather.
She looked stunning, like usual. I was proud to be with someone who always kept me speechless. There was never a time I saw Morgan and my hands didn't get clammy, or I didn't get a dry throat, or an erection.

"I love you," is all I could say.

Morgan pushed her head into my chest and knowing her, probably listened to my heartbeat. So, I couldn't see her face, but I knew she was smiling, her thick lips closed but the corners of them, turned up.

"Things have been so good lately," she talked.

"And this time, it doesn't seem like something bad is gonna happen after."

"Hold on, let me knock on wood." I joked.

Morgan laughed quietly. "I love you, too."

Every other body in the barn seemed to disappear, like they no longer mattered. Not in this moment. I was completely dedicated to holding Morgan and making her feel what I felt.

Laughter broke out by the bar so I turned to see in case I missed another highlight of the night.

It was just the guys and our parents hitting it off with Jesse who was proving to everyone that he, in fact, had the most to drink tonight.

My eyes followed Callie, though, as she fought for attention from her parents who seemed to want nothing to do with her. I watched a sad exchange between them, a desperate attempt at Callie trying to  just have a conversation, but they were short with her. I chalked it up to she was just drunk at first, making it all about her, but they're busy being impressed by Quinn. Except, Callie sulked away, isolating herself from the party.

"You should go talk to Callie?" I suggested to Morgan.

She looked at me like I was stupid. "I'm not talking to her. I really don't need her drama right now."

"Look at her, Morgan..."

Morgan sighed and stubbornly followed her older sister with her eyes. Callie sat just outside the doors on a hay bale, with a cigarette in one hand, a cold beer in the other.

"So go talk to her." Said Morgan, pushing me in that direction.

"What? No. I don't even like Callie."

Morgan tilted her head at me. "Well you brought it up. And, neither do I right now."

I tucked my arms and let my eyes roll.

"Please," Morgan sang, batting her eyelashes. "for me?"

How could I say no to those big eyes and that pout?

"I can't stand you." I grumbled at Morgan, making her laugh.

"Good boy." Morgan giggled, the both of us walking backwards or slightly to the side to finish the conversation the further we grew apart.

"Whatever you want later!"

My eyebrow raised at that. "You know what I want."

She chewed her lip for a second. "As long as you have the camera."

"Pssh. I'll go to Best Buy right now and get a camera!"

Morgan finally just laughed me off and then found Quinn in Sherry's lap and stole her. Warmed my heart for a second, watching them interact with such love and tender care. You could just tell Morgan was meant to be someone's mother. Her sister on the other hand...

"Who's getting a camera?" Asked Callie, sitting under me.

My face fell straight. "Mind your business."

She threw her cigarette and stood with the stomp of her foot. "Fuck off, I don't need this shit!" she screamed, pacing.

"Woah, relax," I hissed, throwing my arms up. "I was just joking. What the hell's wrong with you?"

That's when Jabari walked out to us and slid his hand against mine, offering me the blunt he rolled earlier that I never got to hit.

"Appreciate it," I said to him, taking a seat on the hay bale.

"For sure." He talked fast then looked Callie up and down.

"Um, what's wrong with you, why you look like you just smelled some'?"

Callie could've turned Jabari to stone with the look she just gave him. He got the hint and walked away, mumbling how he doesn't like her anyway, no one does. See?

"Got a lighter?" I asked Caleen.

"Here," she offered, sitting beside me on the uncomfortable hay.

With a large sigh, Callie slouched and began to reveal why she was really upset.

"Does everyone really not like me?"

I let the smoke through my nostrils and stopped myself from choking so I could answer.

"Who cares?"

"I do! God, everyone sees me like I'm some complete bitch compared to Morgan."

"Why're you comparing yourself to Morgan?"

"I always have ever since she was a teen. She's just so prefect. Obviously, you know. And now our parents are eating her up, completely ignoring me."

I knew that's what this was about.

"I saw you trying to talk to them earlier. Maybe they just couldn't hear you?" I tried to be optimistic- a trait of Morgan's that's rubbing off on me and I'm not sure how to feel about it.

I let my head rest of the barn wall and stared up at the stars, thinking I recognized a constellation. I didn't know a lot about them but Morgan swears she sees the Big Dipper, like, every night.

When Callie started weeping, I passed the blunt to her and subtly shook my shoulder to get her head off of my body.

"Wait," I said, taking it back. "You'll be able to drive Quinn home, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. This is my first beer, and I used to drive high all the time. Believe it or not, I used to be wild; parties every night, drugs. I guess that's why my parents hate me."

"They don't hate you."

"How do you know?"

I inhaled and then exhaled, vibrating my lips for an answer. "I don't, but they're your parents, so they can't."

"No, you don't know what I was like. They kicked me out."

"Yes, but they're here now."

Callie started to choke and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Been a while, huh?" I made fun.

"Shut up," she struggled to speak.

Once she was settled, Callie sighed. "I don't even care about them kicking me out or never being there for us all these years. I am happy they're here now. Look, they love Quinn, they hit it off with you and Jesse, and they think Morgan is literally the second coming of Christ. All I want is an apology. Just to hear them say 'I'm sorry we gave up on you.'"

"So tell them that."

"If you have to ask someone to give you an apology, it probably won't be the most genuine," Callie recoiled, looking down at her dusty brown cowgirl boots.

I could agree with that, though. I'm not a parent, though, nor do I have these problems with mine, so I couldn't offer anymore advice.

"You know what, Callie?" I talked, standing up in a stretch.

"What?" She asked, looking up at me.

I looked at her face one good time for the first time during the conversation, observing the wrinkles by her wet, green eyes.

"I think you're just mad me and Morgan beat you and Jesse at darts earlier."

She stood to object and followed me back inside.

"Whatever. You guys cheated," she claimed. Callie saw Jesse at the table with Morgan, our parents, and everyone else, and sped up to run into his arms now that she felt a little better.

I watched Morgan watch them squeeze each other before she shot two thumbs up at me.

"What time does Best Buy close?" I mouthed to her.

***

I didn't make it to any electronics stores, it was too late, but that didn't matter. By the time we got back to my place, everything was moving so fast.

I peeled off Morgan's dress and threw it over the bed, next her boots, and as good as they looked on her, those damn stockings had to come off.

Thank fuck this girl's a sex demon and not that far along yet, because later in the pregnancy, I don't know how I'll manage if she won't want to have sex.

Morgan worked at my shirt, then removed my belt and asked, "Do you want to use this on me?"

"Morgan," I rasped, eyebrow raised. Despite the shocked sound of my voice, my interest was peaked.

She giggled and wrapped her legs around me.

Knock. Knock.

I ignored the sound at the door the first time.

"Babe, you should answer it. It's late, what if it's your mom?" Morgan suggested, sitting up on her elbows.

"My mom would know to call first, it's almost midnight." I complained, burying my head back in Morgan's neck.

She moaned but only briefly because there was another knock at the door. The sounds were hard and spaced apart.

I threw my head back angrily. "If it's Mary, I swear to God..."

Morgan just laughed as I walked to the door, complaining about what time it is.

Before just opening the door, I used some sense and looked through the peephole.

It was Malcolm. I immediately filled with rage, wanting to grab a weapon and beat him over the head with it. Who did he think he was to be showing up here, unannounced?

I wasn't going to open the door, I wasn't. But shit, I'm sure he already saw my truck. And what if he tried to come in, anyway, if I acted like I wasn't home?

I had Morgan to think about, and the fact that she's with child. A fist fight is nothing, I'm not worried about that, but Malcolm's dirty. My mind was fixated on the worst case scenario. I'm not scared of confronting him, only scared of what I'll have to do if this goes left.

I shuddered, snapping out of my head.

At the sound of another knock, I swallowed hard, turning to the left where my eyes landed on the knife block.

He was getting impatient. Fuck it.

I opened the door in the next second, no weapons, no shirt on, or shoes.

Malcolm looked surprised to see me as if he wasn't knocking on my door.

He had on a wide brim hat, like a Fedora, his cane, and a long, black wool coat.

"Chris, my boy," he rang, grinning like the conman he is.

"What do you want?" I asked him through the cracked door.

"I can't come in?"

My jaw clenched. "No, you can't. Work in the morning."

"Ah," he sounded, trying to peek over me. "It's been a while."

"Something tells me you didn't just come to catch up," I growled, looking down at him.

He had a short laugh. "I suppose that's not all. No, I really came, wondering if you knew where Morgan was? She came by the other day and left all of a sudden. That girl, I'll tell you, I need to put a bell on her. It's the darndest thing, the way she left, and no one seems to know a thing. Huh?"

"That is strange. Sorry. I can't help you."

He started to nod stiffly, stroking his chin. "Very. Well, if you see her, let her know that her parents gave me their blessing."

"Their what, for what?"

"I let them know I'd like to get married to her. Soon. What, with the holidays coming up, and the family reunion, I thought the timing was correct."

Malcolm, the hallway, and everything around him started to shake. Or so I thought, but it was actually just me. I was livid.

My fists balled behind the door. I didn't think I'd be able to control myself much longer if he kept talking.

"Hm. Well, I'll let you go. You know, so you can get to your hot shot job in the morning; really hope this Reuben boy treats you better than I do. Anyway, expect the wedding invite in the mail, nephew."

I watched him turn on the heels of his Hermès loafers and usher down the hallway.
When he reached the corner, he waved his finger at me, and then disappeared around it.

SLAM! I closed the door with all the force I built up and then carried myself to the bedroom.

Morgan tossed and turned then blinked her eyes open and sat up.

"Sorry I fell asleep. Who was that?" Her feathery voice talked. You could hear how sleepy she was.

"Nobody, go to bed, it's fine," I answered. Lie.

What was I gonna do, tell her Malcolm just appeared, inviting me to their wedding that she doesn't even know about but it's fine because her parents —who just looked me in my face and said they like me— gave him their blessing? This is all fucked up. But I'm handling it. . .

She yawned small and made herself comfortable under the covers.

Noticing I didn't do the same, Morgan shot her eyes open and stared at my back.

"You're not coming to bed?" She asked me.

I shook my head.

Pushing off of my knees, I lunged to the closet and grabbed a shirt and jacket to throw on.

"No," I mumbled my response. "I have to take care of something first."