"[a] person doesn't know true hurt and suffering until they've felt the pain of falling in love with someone whose affections lie elsewhere."

Morgan Ann Bennett

BANG! BANG! BANG!

I couldn't wait until Callie opened the door. I shook the handle, impatiently trying to get in.

"Jesus Christ," she hissed upon seeing me outside of her Red Sage b&b master suite.

It was past noon, Quinn was at day care and my older sister, her rightful mother, had the day off.
I wished she'd spend the time with Quinn whenever she didn't have to work, but then again, it could be for the best.

"What part of 'emergency' don't you understand?" I raged, storming into the room.

"I'm sorry I'm going through shit," she spat.

I quickly ignored her attitude because I had my own problems to get off my chest.

"Malcolm wants me to move in with him," I started to rant, pacing along the hardwood.

"So?" She bobbed her neck, sitting on the couch on her feet. "Don't you already?"

I dropped my neck. "Like, in his room."

My sister grabbed the bowl of popcorn she left on the coffee table and scooped a handful into her mouth.

She looked uninterested but gestured like she was waiting for me to go on, not seeing the big deal.

With a stomp of my foot in the low top white Converse, I flailed my arms.

"But I don't want to!" I whined.

"Then don't?" She said.

I shot my eyes in her direction. "Cal, I can't just not sleep with him. I mean, in his room."

One of her eyebrows popped, the left one. "Oh? You haven't slept with him, yet?"

"No!" I exclaimed, pretty offended. "What do you think I am?"

She shrugged, continuing to shovel her mouth full. "Well I assumed. Why haven't you?"

I stomped my foot again in protest. "Callie! What am I, a whore? I'm not going to sleep with him because I'm not ready to."

Plain and simple, I had no desire to sleep with Malcolm. I wasn't sexually attracted to him whatsoever. Don't get me wrong, he's a handsome man, for sure, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. And not just because he's Chris's uncle, either.

Callie scanned me, her eyes looking my body over more than once. "Not a whore, okay, sorry. You just manage to get every guy you lay your eyes on," she mocked, getting up to walk away.

"Callie, what the hell?" I barked after her.

At the end of the hallway, with her palm on the face of the bathroom door, she sighed and said, "And call Kyle, he's been asking about you like every goddamn waking second."

"Kyle?" I recalled, scratching my head.

***

DING-DONG!

"Welcome in," Sherry's voice squeaked. She looked up from the register and noticed me. "Oh, it's just you. Hey, Morgan!"

"How are you?" I asked her from the door.

The same four elderly men who occupied the second booth on the right were all there, eating their clubs and staring like they always do. I didn't mind, they were kind of sweet.

"Hey," I said to them as I bounced along.

I found Mary putting up flyers around the cafe.

"Hey," I greeted her.

She looked at me briefly over her shoulder and returned to her task.

"Hey, Morgan," she sang, "always good seeing you. What's up?"

"That's what I was gonna ask you," I said through a giggle. "what are these?"

I took one down she just taped to the wall and read the neon green paper.

She smacked her small lips and put one back in it's place.

"See, that's something my son would do," she laughed faintly.

"The flyer?" I tried to stay on topic.

Mary looked around my face and then said, "For a town event coming up, a little festival we have every year. There's music, games, carnival rides, vendors."

"Wow, you guys really do it up," I replied, interested.

"Eh, well, we try," she shrugged, walking to the next post. "we're a tight-knit community, gotta stay together. It's kind of tradition."

"Hm. Need any help?" I wondered aloud.

She handed over half the stack and a tape dispenser, volunteering me.

"Thanks," she said, almost out of breath as she was moving so fast.

"No," I laughed, "I meant with the festival."

"Oh," she frowned, "that's so sweet, Morgan. I think I have everything covered but I'll let you know when I do!" Her short, midway ponytail flicked as she snapped her neck back to face the wall.

"Alright," I said, moving around her body to find an open space in the shop.

The bell above the door chimed again.

Since Sherry was so busy and had no other help, I acted as an employee. Well, I basically was, just without pay. I learned the ins-and-outs of the Black Elk and probably knew more than Callie did at her own job.
I knew right when we got to Penshaw that the cafe would be my go-to spot. It's in my daily routine now - stop in, say good morning, grab a bagel or chocolate chip muffin and a cappuccino if not an iced coffee.

The man that had just walked in was tall and thin, he was a handsome black man with Malcolm X glasses and a confident smile whenever he showed it.

The group of old fisherman greeted him greatly with "oohs" and "ahhs." I took it he's just a cool guy, nothing more.

Sherry was still counting money at the register and Alvin was in the pharmacy. AJ wasn't in, either, so I helped the man out myself.

"Hey, how are you?" I asked, dropping the flyers on the table behind me.

He read over the menu for only a second before ordering. I jotted that down and then noticed his bold pinky ring. I thought it must've been expensive.

He was alone which I found, not weird, but interesting. He didn't have a wedding ring nor did he look to be wear any physical signs of stress so maybe no kids. I could tell he was in his late thirties, maybe early forties.

Finally, I just asked him, "What do you do?"

He furrowed his eyebrows and then cackled.

"Why?"

"I don't know, I'm just... asking."

He laughed again, ready to answer, but that's when Mary pulled me by the wrist.

Yards away from him, she whispered to me, "That's Reuben Fisher, the architect!"

"Oh," I sounded, subtly trying to eye him down.

"He designed and built most of this city. He was born here, came back with some big project. I think they want to build a new mall, a club, some new luxury homes in the mountains. Half the city talking hates it, I like it, he's so talented. Ugh, Chris looks up to him."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah," she talked. "he wants to be an architect, too, just scared to approach Reuben. I mean, I am, too look at him, he's gorgeous."

"Chris? Scared?"

"I know right," she laughed, nudging me. "Ah, but part of it also is he's just so loyal to his uncle, ya know?"

Her eyes were very concentrated on me especially at the words loyal and uncle. I immediately thought the worst, but knew there couldn't be a way she knew about her son and I. Right?

"Excuse me," I said, snaking out of the corner.

I returned to Reuben who was looking at me with some interest, that or he thought I was weird.

"I've been coming to this place since I was a kid, never seen anyone like you here," he talked, his words coming out slow.

I slid in the booth and shook the salt and pepper shakers, bored and in my head.

"Yeah," I yawned. "I'm kinda new here."

"Mhm. You like it?"

I nodded. "The city's nice, love the people."

"We are the best. What do you think of the architecture?"

"It's alright," I shrugged.

When he looked almost shocked that I didn't pay him more of a compliment, I started to laugh.

"Kidding. I know who you are, you're very talented," I talked.

This man was proud of his work and as he should be.

"You're funny. Your name?" He asked, reaching to exchange a handshake.

"Morgan," I answered, smiling.

That's when the bells chimed another time and Reuben bobbed his head that direction.

"You should go do your job then, Morgan?" He talked.

I hunched my shoulders. "Eh, I don't actually work here."

It was Chris, walking in tall with confidence. I'd smile if I wasn't ready to knock his head off.

My blood boiled all over again, remembering our last talk. Yeah, he sure is "loyal" alright - to all the wrong people.

Ugh, what am I saying? He's right, he's right; Malcolm is his uncle, we both should respect that.
Though, no matter how much I'm reminded of that fact, I can never accept it. . .

Some girls followed Chris with their eyes, mentally violating him. I was mad, or jealous, I just didn't like it. They giggled and exchanged words, probably sharing gossip and saying how hot he is. My eyes rolled away from them.

Chris walked by the booth I sat in with Reuben and did a double take. I like to think it's because he thought I was so beautiful, but he furrowed his eyebrows and kept walking.

Reuben went on about his life story but I wasn't listening, I was watching Chris and his mother talk. When Chris and Mary looked my way, I shyly glanced in another direction.

After an alarm, Reuben stood to go. "I'm late, you owe me breakfast."

"Any time," I played along, walking him out.

"Hey, do you have a business card on you?" I asked, thinking about Chris.

"Why," he chuckled, hands in both front pockets of his slacks, "you looking to get a real job?"

I laughed. "Maybe."

"Here," he said, scribbling on a newspaper. "my personal number."

I didn't mind that he winked before walking away, he was handsome and wealthy, it was harmless, but I didn't want him to think I wanted him in that way - this was for Chris, even though he doesn't deserve my kindness.

However, before I could circle back inside and give him Reuben's phone number, I got a call myself.

It was Malcolm.

"What are you doing, darling?" He spoke.

I shifted the weight from one leg to the other in place and sighed, having to change my tone. "Nothing, Malcolm. Per usual. You, working, I assume?"

"Taking a break," he said then paused. "Come home, I have a surprise for you."

***

I dropped everything - not that I had big plans- to race back to Malcolm's home for this supposed surprise.

Sage let me inside. I said hi but he barely even looked at me.

Meanwhile, Teddy gave me a warm hug.

In the embrace, he whispered in my ear, "I'm sorry."

I pulled back, scared. What did he mean?

Gulp.

There was a lot of commotion coming from upstairs, making me suspicious.

I jogged up the stairs in anticipation.

"What's all this?" I asked Malcolm when I walked up behind him at my bedroom door.

"Ah, darling," he said before kissing my cheeks. "Your surprise."

I looked around, confused. "Are you renovating it?"

He cackled, nodding his head at some movers.

"No, darling," said Malcolm.

I followed him inside of the room and noticed a lot of my things missing.

"Where's my stuff?" I asked him with a sharp tone.

Another mover walked by me with my vanity and I almost chased him down for it.

"They're moving it upstairs, darling," he said, taking my hand to kiss it. "in my room."

I blinked rapidly.

This can't be happening, I thought in my head. No. I'm not ready, I don't want to.

"Malcolm, I-" I stammered.

He cut me off anyway to speak. "Morgan, this is happening. Finally. No sense in putting it off. We're together, we should at least sleep in the same room."

He had a point, or at least he would if I even grasped the fact that we were "together." Are we?

My face fell and I couldn't do anything but think "no."

Malcolm cupped my chin firmly once all the men were out of the lavender room.

I tried pulling back but his hold was tight, strict and unrelenting.

"Listen to me, Morgan, and listen well. We are together, and you will like it. I didn't bring you here and buy your life for you not to sleep with me. I'm trying to be patient but don't test me," he thundered in my face.

Finally letting go of my chin, I stumbled back and rubbed it.

Malcolm looked me over once, almost with disgust.

"Settle into our bedroom, then later be at LeRoux for dinner at nine, don't make me wait," he insisted, turning on his heels.

I just stood there, bottom lip quivering.

"Uh, is that everything?" One man asked.

I snatched the jewelry box from his hands and shooed him and his crew out.

Once the door closed with everyone gone, Teddy came to me in the center of the large, now empty, bedroom.

I slowly looked up from the carpet to adjust them on Teddy's height.

He was looking down at me, speechless.

"Shit," he exhaled, "I-I'm sorry, Morgan. I know you didn't want this. I tried to tell him something - anything- but he threatened to fire me. I'd quit if I didn't care about you. What he say?"

I fought off my tears but it hurt to do so. My throat was dry and I started to shake.

When no words passed my lips, Teddy just pulled me in for a hug.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I know you didn't want this. Shit ain't right..."

***

Later that evening, I joined Malcolm for dinner like he said. I didn't want to but it seemed as if I had no choice.

He chuckled with his colleagues and drank champagne all night, paying me little to no mind. What's new?

For someone who claims I'm his, he hardly ever acknowledges my existence when out.

I sighed all night and wallowed. When Malcolm noticed so much as a frown on my face he would pinch my exposed thigh or elbow and grit his teeth at me when his company wasn't looking.

"-Morgan, you're such a doll," Monica, one man's wife, complimented.

I forced a small smile. "Gee, thanks."

"And so quiet," she returned, swirling her drink.

The table laughed.

"She's just being shy tonight," Malcolm said, putting his arm behind my neck. "She's usually a riot."

I looked down and sniffled.

"Most girls that good looking don't have much of a personality," the woman commented.

Her husband guffawed. "You have lots of personality," he joked.

She laughed in his neck.

"Why have personality when you have looks? Women shouldn't talk so much anyway," the man in Gucci glasses let out.

"No? I suppose we should just cook, clean, and get on our knees?" Monica entertained.

"Exactly," Malcolm cracked, making them laugh.

I stayed quiet, guess I didn't get the joke.

When they all sparked another riveting conversation, I kept to myself with my chin in the palm of a hand.

For the first time all day, my phone sounded with a text message notification.

All dark eyes shot to me and I sheepishly apologized for the interruption.

While they weren't looking my way, I opened the text. It was from Chris.

I'm sorry

The last thing I was expecting, him to apologize. He had less than nice words to say when I showed up at Red Sage b&b to talk to him. It's like he's angry as if I ever forced him on me, it was mutual and I can tell he enjoyed that moment on the yacht just as much as I did.

I couldn't bring myself to apologize. Besides, there's no way he's genuinely sorry that fast. His mood swings were tiring and if he wasn't going to give me what I wanted, well, I guess that's what his uncle is for.

"You alright, darling?" Malcolm asked me in my ear, one of his hands squeezing my thigh.

I locked my phone screen and smiled warmly.

"Yeah, perfect," I bubbled back, letting my head fall on his shoulder.