"In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔

"I think I gotta breakup with Morgan." I vent to my father at the bar in his hotel.

He looks at me like I just said I killed his grandmother.

"Why on Earth would you do that, son?" He sounds taken aback, looks it, too.

I pull the glass from my lips and swallow. "I don't deserve her."

"Of course you don't; most men think that."

I shake my head. "This is different. She's too good for me, I'm fucking everything up."

"Everything like what?"

"I killed someone, Dad-"

"No you didn't!" He roars. He quickly looks around at other patrons and fixes his volume.

I blink at him and he gets out of my face.

"No you didn't. I did. Don't even worry about that, it's done and over with. What else you got?"

"I'm fucking traumatized and I don't want to hurt her."

"She's stuck around this long."

"That's the thing, she shouldn't have to."

"You get a good girl like that, you don't let her go, trust me. Look at your mother, she's dealt with all my shit."

"I don't want Morgan to have to deal with me, that's the thing."

"Son," he sighs. "I understand what you're saying, but that's just your inner saboteur. Listen to me good, work through it. Morgan is struggling just as much as you are. Shutting her out just to save yourself will not help."

"I'm not shutting her out to save myself, it's to save her."

He shakes his head. "Me and your mother told you last year that you ruin good things. You're doing it again. Haven't you known Morgan long enough by now to know she has a good, pure heart? That girl will do anything for you."

"I don't want her to, is what I'm trying to say."

"So, what, you're going to dump her for some girl who doesn't give two shits about you? Tell me you hear yourself right now. You're scared of committing, is that it? Things are moving fast, son, Malcolm dying, your promotion, moving in together."

"Yeah and I feel like, before, Morgan and I were just fun, now it's, like, real life shit and I don't know, reality hit me. Hard."

He pats my back strong one good time. "That's called maturing, son, it's not a bad thing. Forgive me for asking, but is this about something else? Someone else?"

"What?" I retort, my face curled.

He throws his hands up. "Just seems out of left field, that's all. You did all that for Morgan, now it's like you put work first and the fact that you're even thinking about breaking up?"

He puts some bills down to cover the tab and then pats my back but I shake his hand off.

The second time I've been accused of wanting to be with someone else. And if I had a penny for every time someone has used my work ethic against me.

~

"So, are you going to tell me what brings you here, really?" Doctor Hassan asks me, removing her glasses. 

"Excuse me? I've been talking for a whole hour. I told you, Morgan-"

"Not about Morgan. Trust me, I get it, the sex is great, you've been through a lot, and you love her. What brings you here alone? I have a lot of degrees,   Christopher, I read body language." Her mature voice reads me.

I rub my knees and let out a deep breath. "I've been thinking about breaking up." My confession makes even the professional gasp.

"But you just spent the last sixty minutes telling me how much you love her, that you would die, kill, and live for her?"

"I know," I quickly reply. "but I don't deserve her."

"I'll stop you right there. More times than not, that's just something a partner — men mostly— say when they want an easy way out. So, why do you want out?"

"I don't want to let her go, I just want to end things before something else does."

"Aha." She nods, dark eyes narrowing on me. "And what could that something be?"

"I don't know, normal relationship shit: miscommunication, lack of trust."

"You just named two things after saying you don't know. Are you not communicating, and do you not trust Morgan?"

She's too good, this therapist.

"No, I trust Morgan."

"You don't trust yourself? Why not?"

I puff my chest and then release the air. "I'm not gonna cheat on her if you think that's what I mean. It's this girl I hooked up with when Morgan and I weren't together, she's back and I feel like, I don't know, something might happen. Something always does."

"Why do you think that? Does she want revenge? Does Morgan not know?"

"Morgan knows. They met, actually, she handled it well. Look at our track record, it's good then shit just... happens. I don't want to continue that cycle."

Rita crosses her legs and fixes her gaze on me. "What can you do to stop that cycle? Because it sounds like you love Morgan but not enough to work on what you can control."

"I love Morgan more than I love myself. I'd do the work, it just never ends up in our — my— favor. I'm scared Morgan will leave me one day."

"There we go. Where does that fear come from?"

My chest swells. I've said too much, I hate being in this vulnerable position.

"Um," I stammer in my speech. "because she might find out she can do better, or something. I rather end things my way, and bad, before she leaves me."

"Why?" Those three words strike me and I feel a weight on my heart, it's stopping me from breathing and I get a shooting sensation in the back of my jaw.

My legs shaking and I can't pick my head up to look at Rita because she's giving me that psychologist look that I can't stand, she sees right into my soul.

I continue picking at the skin of my hands. "She's everything I ever wanted. She's made me a better person and we've broken up before but not seriously; I can't imagine not having her in my life, it would have to be over my dead body. Respectfully. I feel like she's been too forgiving of everything I've done and one day, she won't be."

"And that scares you?" She asks. I nod.

"It sounds like you two are both leaning on each other for something. You need to let go of the circumstances in which brought you together and hone in on why you fell in love in the first place. And if I'm being honest, I don't think either of you are going anywhere anytime soon. Do you let her know you love her the way you told me you do?"

"Not as much as I should, I guess," I exhale, tapping the counter. "I've never done this shit before— having a serious girlfriend— it's hard."

Rita smiles broad. "It doesn't have to be."

Her timer goes off and she clicks her pen then stands. I follow.

"Transparency, Chris. You need to get to the bottom of your feelings and rationalize them, then confront Morgan about them, and talk it out. Emphasis on 'talk,' no arguing. Just express how you feel and listen to her, too, then come up with a healthy solution. Start there."

I know she's got a degree and we pay her to hear this shit but my mother can give the same advice, if not, better. I won't be returning to therapy.

I thank Dr.Hassan and leave for work.

~

"No, no, no," Russ Brown exclaims. "this is all wrong, Chris, I'm sorry!"

I drag my hands down my face and contain what I really wanted to say.

"You said modern-"

"I said urban."

I furrow my eyebrows and hesitate. "What the fuck is the difference?"

Russ looks over my shoulder at the design again and goes "hmm."

I turn in the chair to see him scratching his chin.

What does "hmm" mean? He makes me want to throw something out of the window. He's so smug.

"Knock-knock. I'm in. Boys, how goes it?" Beck Jordan enters my office just because he can. He shouldn't, but I suppose he is my "superior."

Russ greets Jordan with a handshake. "Chris and I are just going over some designs."

"Oh, yeah?" Beck looks at me then at Russ again. "How's that?"

Russ pats my back and smirks. "Early stages, very early stages."

"Chris is one of the best, you're in good hands." Beck's compliment surprises me. Just goes to show you can hate me but never my work, and I'm proud of that. I don't thank him or even smile, though.

"I know he is." Russ assures my supposed boss.

The room falls silent as I'm waiting for Beck to leave so I can finish this conversation with my client.

"I'll leave you to it." Beck hardly looks up from his work phone on his way out. "Oh, Christopher. Those papers I asked you for, they done, yet?"

"Beck, you know I'm not a intern, right?"

He scoffs. "Correct. What does that have to do with what I asked you?"

Russ looks at me with a warning in his eye, it's almost fatherly, so I calm down.

"I'll get them to you when I finish." It takes a lot out of me to answer with little to no hate in my tone.

"Good. I wouldn't want you to have to stay late again." He smirks, prolonging his glare at me.

Does he know what Morgan and I did in here? No... he can't.

I look around my office for a second to make sure I didn't miss a sock, bra, or wet spot somewhere.

Beck wishes Russ a good day and then leaves. I watch him pass the glass office, eyes still glued on me until I stare back and he turns the corner.

"So," Russ says, rubbing his hands. "I actually do like the design. Walk me through this again..."

~~~

I text Morgan for the third time since lunch because she hasn't replied yet and that worries me.

what's for dinner? Please say steak

no reply is crazy

are you okay?

"Yo!" Rob shouts.

I pick my head up from my phone and see all the guys ready on the court.

I'm ready to go join but my phone dings with a text notification and I get excited thinking it's my girlfriend.

It's not.

Instead, that same random 8561 number. It read:

Hey

I delete the message and go back to my thread with Morgan.

Delivered.

I wonder what she's doing, if she's okay— if we're okay? I hope she's not purposely ignoring me for whatever reason this time, I hate when she ignores me, I can't stand it.

"Chris, come on!" Jabari yells, finally getting my attention.

"Shut up, I'm coming." I bark at him, walking into the court.

"Check." Rob bounces the ball to me.

~

We beat their ass, Rob's team is just all over the place, and they can't guard me.

"—you hear me?" Asks Jabari as I trade my sneakers for a pair of slides.

I shake my head no.

It's dark, the streetlights are on and kids are mostly in the house. Some younger guys took over the courts but they're just playing around.

I check my phone again, still no text from Morgan.

Jabari smacks his lips. "I said-"

I cut him off. "Where's Jasmine, is Morgan with her?"

"I doubt it, Jas went to get her hair braided, that shit take, like, eight hours." He let's me know. He's right, Morgan wouldn't sit there for that.

Our parents are both out of town now, too, so it's not like she has anyone else to hang out with.

"What, she M.I.A.?" Asks JB. I nod.

"Damn," he says, shuffling along the sidewalk. "she probably just sleep, or some'."

"Morgan doesn't even like to take naps." I recall, limping towards my truck.

My leg has been killing me, I think I pulled something, I don't know, but it's the same leg with the scar.

"Text me when you find her, bro. Good night." JB puts his forearm out for me and I hit mine with his to make an 'x' per our handshake.

It's not a long drive at all to where I live, thankfully. I was gonna die of starvation if I don't get that steak in the next five minutes.

My keys jiggle in the lock, I open the door and walk in. I'm disappointed when I don't smell steak, but the kitchen is upstairs so maybe that's why.

I drop my bag on the staircase and jog up the stairs the best I can.

"Morgan?" I shout.

"Morgan!" I yell when there's no answer but I saw the Lexus parked out front.

I leave the kitchen and go back down to our bedroom.

There, Morgan is in the bathroom cleaning up everything. And I mean everything.

"Oh. You taking a trip?" I ask, walking further inside the bedroom.

She rolls her eyes and presents me with a letter before pushing past my body to get to the closet.

"What's this?" I ask, not wanting to read it.

Morgan says nothing, just reaches for a suitcase from the top of her closet and begins throwing clothes inside it.

The hell did I walk into?

I crumble up the note and throw it away.

Morgan's filling up this suitcase and I pick it up off the floor.

"Chris." She sighs, flailing her arms.

"What are you doing?" My eyebrows furrow with worry, and almost anger.

"You want to break up with me, Chris?" She almost catches me off guard then I realize what I've done.

"Let me make it easy for you." Morgan says clearly, looking me in the eyes.

I close mine and quickly reflect, hearing Rita Hassan in my ear.

"It's not like that. I don't want to, I just don't want us to break up later down the road over some bullshit I can't control."

"Do you hear yourself? You don't want to breakup with me, but you do because you can't control it? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Clearly, you do not care about me, and I'm not going to keep waiting for the day you decide to. I'm tired."

"Morgan, I was never really gonna do it. I can't; I love you too much. This shit is just hard, babe."

"It shouldn't be this hard, Chris." Morgan says with a sigh. She rips her eyes away from me and then picks up her bags.

I know there's desperation in my eyes, she can see it. I'm gutted. How could I let this happen?

"I'm going to stay somewhere else for a few days. Maybe we just need some time apart to think, get our priorities straight, and then regroup?" She says ever so calmly and that's the scary part.

A few days? What am I going to do without her for a few days?

"You're not breaking up with me, are you?" I ask, clinging onto her hand before she slips through the door.

I pick my head up because the room is too silent after my question.

Her face is straight but I see the emotion behind her doe eyes.

"Why would I do that, so you can run off with Sabrina? No. I just want space right now, maybe you'll appreciate me when I'm gone."

Everything she says hits me so deep. Old me would've argued back, said something to throw her off and make myself feel better, but I can't here. She's right and this feels like a low - a rut.

I'm sorry, I say in my head and not to Morgan as she finally makes her exit. Those two words only would've left her with a sour taste in her mouth, I know that since the funeral, she's hated hearing a basic ass "I'm sorry." To me, though, it can hold a lot of weight. Just goes to show I really fucked up this time. Besides working too much, I don't know what I did, but as a boyfriend, she's angry and the last thing I want to do is invalidate her emotions. So, this is deserved.

"Few" technically means three. Well, three or more. Three to five to be specific. Google says "'not many but more than one'; so a few cannot be one but it can be as low as two." Cue my sigh of relief.

Somewhere from forty-eight to seventy-three hours left to go, right?

I'm gonna need to have some type of epiphany in the next few days if I want to keep my girlfriend...