"It has nothing to do with the imaginary idea of a personal self, other selves, many selves everywhere: Self is only an idea, a mortal idea. That which passes into everything is one thing. It's a dream already ended. There's nothing to be afraid of and nothing to be glad about."

──────⊱⁜⊰─────

𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏

I wake up the next morning in a bed alone. It's the first time in a while that I've slept without Chris, it just doesn't feel the same.

While the hotel has one of the most comfortable beds I've ever slept on, I miss our bed. I miss the puppies already and I miss my boyfriend.

I roll over on the mattress and immediately pick up my phone.

4 missed calls
2 missed FaceTime videos
11 text messages

All from Chris.

I hesitate to select the notifications; most of the texts are voice messages.

"Space." I remind myself, clicking the screen off.

Like every other day, I begin it with a shower and sing my heart out. Since I'm going to my Pilates class, I don't wear any makeup and I throw on a nice athletic set.
For breakfast, something light but nutritious: piece of whole wheat toast, pesto, avocado, sliced tomato and one sunny side up egg.

I'm staring out at the early morning view when there's a knock on the door.

I'm not expecting anyone but answer it anyway.

"Good morning, Miss Bennett," a bellhop greets me with a grin. "I have a delivery."

Confusion wears on my face seeing the bouquet he's trying to give to me.

"I didn't order these?" I try telling him.

He continues to smile, working for that tip. "No, ma'am, someone sent them to you."

"Umm," I stammer, looking around for some change. "here. Thank you."

I sniff the flowers, stepping back so I could shut the door.

The card reads that the soft, beautiful pale white flower is "Godetia." It also reads:

To ~ the love of my life, Cara Mia
This is just the start

His handwriting is neater than usual, he took his time writing this. He meant it.

I sniff the plant again and smile, putting the bouquet on the countertop.

I grab my phone and unlock it, immediately going to input Chris's number but I stopped my thumb from clicking the call button.

"Space..." I have to tell myself again.

~~~

"Great class everyone!" Our instructor exclaims.

Everyone is relieved once class is dismissed. Beauty is pain, health is wealth.
I'm glad Pilates is something I do, and I'm happy I have Jas to do it with me. She secretly hates it, but we're hooked at this point. Plus, it gives us (me) something else to do in my day-to-day.

I dab my sweat-beaded skin with a towel and walk towards the locker-room with Jasmine.

"Did you eat breakfast already?" She asks me as I stuff my gym bag.

"I did. You?"

She shakes her head no. "I never eat breakfast. Want to come with me to grab something?"

"I was actually going to go get the puppies while Chris is at work."

Jasmine rolls her eyes. She doesn't really get that pets require so much attention, especially puppies.

I pull on a black seamless zip-up jacket and untuck my hair from my back.

Just as I'm ready to ask if Jasmine is okay to leave now, I notice her mug.

I laugh through my nose and flail both arms, keys in my hand. "What is that look for?"

She steps into her slides and follows me out of the locker-room.

"Mmcht," she scoffs, walking under my arm as I hold the door open for her. "you still aren't talking to Chris?"

"Okay, it's barely been twelve hours since I left, and I'm just going to get the puppies. Who knows what time he'll be home to walk them, feed them."

Jasmine looks like she doesn't believe me. "I just don't want you running into him before you've had time to process your feelings."

I twist my mouth, listening to her. I'm not sure I agree with her on this.

"Have a good day, ladies." Beth, the gym receptionist, wishes us on our way out.

"Thanks!" Jasmine exclaims.

"You too." I answer, bracing myself to step outside. The sun's bright, dare I say more so than usual, and I forgot my sunglasses, but it's not a long walk to our cars.

Jas and I walk along the sidewalk carefully, silently for some time. That is, until she nudges me.

"What?" I ask lightly.

"I know that look, you're overthinking. Spill."

I hunch my shoulders. "I don't know, it's just that I think I've had a lot of time to think."

She immediately gives me the side eye and I laugh, trying to defend myself. "Stop! Twelve hours is a long time. Since we moved, this is the longest we've been apart, Jas. All night I was tossing and turning, wishing I was laying under him. I hate when we fight more than anything."

"Yes," she says, avoiding a jogger. "but remember why you left?"

I drop my posture and begin to frown. Of course I remember why I left: Chris hasn't been treating me like he values me. He's been putting work first, and while his dedication is admirable, it's like, where's the time in his day for me? It's just weird. You'd think that after we overcame all of those obstacles in Penshaw, we'd be unapologetically all over each other, but no.

"Maybe this isn't what he wanted...." Jasmine's words make me stare at her coldly.

"Why would you say that?"

She blinks slowly. "I don't mean he doesn't want you, just that maybe he got a reality check. You did say yourself you were scared that y'all only hooked up because it was circumstantial."

She's right. I'm hit with a wave of sadness at the fact.

I stop on the sidewalk and try blinking the oncoming tears away.

"Morgan, I'm so sorry," my best friend breathes. "I just want you to do what's best for you. You care too much about Chris and he's not reciprocating that."

I know I need to hear everything she's saying but I don't want to. It hurts.

I open my mouth to make more excuses for Chris, why he's too busy to care about me anymore, but I quickly seal my lips. Jasmine wouldn't hear me out anyway.

Jasmine is hardly a big fan of Chris lately. She thinks he's the reason Jabari is "prone to cheating." Her theory is when they go out, they "look single" and girls flock to them and they play wingman for each other. I don't have those doubts. I know JB looks at other girls, Chris used to tell me how he's had to stop his best friend from creeping on girls while they're out. I don't know whether to call her insecure or just toxic. It's not her fault, though, JB is pretty verbally abusive behind closed doors. Perhaps that's why it's so easy for her to give me this advice and be a breakup advocate.

I wish Carter never told Mary what Chris said. She wouldn't have called me and I would've never known. Ignorance is bliss.
Okay, I know that's not right. Really, Chris should've never said it, but it's how he feels and I suppose it's valid. Just sucks that this is where we are now.

My phone rings and I shoo Jasmine's hand off of my back to reach in my bag and answer it.

The number isn't saved, I can't figure who it could be so I just let it ring.

"Wait," I pause. "eight-five-six-one?"

"What?" Asks Jasmine, looking up at me curiously.

"Hello?" I speak into the phone.

I hear breathing.

"Who is this?" I demand to know.

They hang up.

I try calling back but it appears my number is blocked just that fast.

"Prank callers." Jasmine figures, continuing to pace forward.

I wear my look of confusion a moment longer.

"I know that number from somewhere."

"Maybe it's Malcolm calling from beyond the grave." Jasmine cracks.

I stop and smack my lips at her.

"Too soon? Sorry." She cackles, unlocking her car doors.

"Call me later, maybe we can do dinner at your fancy hotel restaurant?" Jasmine suggests, walking back to me with her arms out for a hug. I walk into her body and keep my face straight as she rubs down my back.

"See you girl," she says, pulling away with a smile. "love you."

"Love you too." I mumble back, sauntering to my Lexus.

Jasmine honks her horn as she drives past me in my car and I wave.

It's eating me up that I can't recall where I've seen that number before. . .

~~~

Three days. Seventy-two hours. I'm checking out of my hotel room this morning and ready to be back in my own bed. Luxury is overrated and a king-sized bed isn't as enjoyable when there's no one to share it with.

"Thank you for staying with us." The receptionist says to me with a toothy smile.

"Have a good day." I wish her on my way out.

I miss Stevie and Duke. Most of all, I miss my boyfriend.

We haven't talked at all, but he's definitely been sending me messages. From the flowers and the voice messages to other gifts and chocolates he's had sent to suite. Oh, let's not forget the way he had letters attached to our dog's harnesses, knowing I'd see them when I picked them up for a walk while he's at work. I appreciate the gestures, I'll say that, he is definitely creative and knows how to get a smile out of me.

It also says a lot that Carter, JB, or Mary haven't had to vouch for him this time. You know, plead his case to me on their behalf, telling me to just forgive him already. Mostly I take it because Chris probably hasn't told them since the last time he vented to his father, that information got back to me.

~

I'm standing outside of our townhouse after eleven AM in the rain, listening to Stevie and Duke bark like the guard dogs in training that they are, and I can't unlock the door fast enough.

I walk in and am greeted with a lit fireplace and my puppies dressed in Cupid costumes.
Is it Valentines Day and I forgot? Wait, no, it's May.

I drop my bags and flower bouquet and fall to the floor, letting them attack me.

"What is this?" I speak to them as if they'll understand. Their tails wag with excitement and the feeling is mutual.

As I play with Stevie, I notice a scroll taped to her paw.

"Pretty girl, did you step in something?" I use a baby voice as I carefully rip the paper from her little spotted paw.

It's not another letter actually, it is a sketch of a picture Chris and I took when we vacationed in Aspen that one time.

I hold the drawing to my heart and stand up, looking around the place.

A sudden whiff of a distinct aroma makes me neglect to take the puppies out.

I trek up each stair to the third floor kitchen.

My eyes aren't deceiving me, Chris is really baking in nothing but a pair of socks, briefs, and a smock right now. Wow.

As he's finishing cleaning and enjoying Italian music, I fold my arms and take this in for a few more moments.

At the finale of the song, I clap my hands which startles Chris and he almost spills an open glass of red wine.

"Encore!" I giggle, stepping further into the kitchen.

I remove my jacket and reveal my ribbed one shoulder cropped sports bra and matching pink leggings.

Chris settles and flashes his notable grin. His smile is one of the many reasons I fell in love. It's bright, he has the perfect teeth, and the best lips. I love the way his eyes nearly close when he genuinely smiles so big, and I love that no one else really gets to see it.

"Morgan." My name rolls off his tongue. It sounds like a reward every times he says it.

I watch Chris dry his hands with a towel and throw it over his tattooed shoulder.

"I missed you."

"I think you made that obvious." I laugh lightly, waving the drawing about.

He chuckles bashfully. "Welcome home."

I smile small and push off the rail so I could have a look around the kitchen.

"It smells good in here." I mention, trying to pinpoint what exactly it is that's making me nostalgic.

Chris kisses my hand and then the oven sounds, informing him whatever is inside is finished.

Chris leaves me at the island and uses the same hand towel to remove the pan from the oven.

"Mmm." I give into my senses.

My eyes grow wide as they fall onto a fresh batch of chocolate chip muffins.

"Are these-" I stop myself.

Chris's smile is very proud this time, he looks like a SpongeBob meme.

"Sherry sent me the recipe after years of begging, yes." He states, hands on hips.

I like to wait until the muffins have cooled down, but they smell just as delicious as I remember.

I put my chin in the palm of my hands and lazily look at Chris.

"Are muffins supposed to make up for everything?" I test him.

Chris looks defeated, his head drops and smile fades, but he shakes his head.

"No," he says, walking over to me on the stool. "why don't you go get settled and by the time you're done, the muffins will be ready just how you like them?"

See. Point for him for remembering the little things.

His warm lips taste my bare shoulder and I fight off the urge to take things further despite being sexually frustrated these past few days. I rewatched the movie 365 DNI and that boat scene gets me every time. I bought one of those rose sex toys and it doesn't do any justice which is disappointing considering all the great reviews.

I walk into our bedroom and am pleased to see an all new bedspread with a beautiful "coma inducer"  corn silk oversized quilted blanket in the shade beige. I run my fingers over it and turn my top lip up. The room is dark like the rest of the house, someone really wanted to set the mood.

The room is spotless, looks nearly unlived in. I guess when the cat's away, the mouse cooks and cleans, too? I'm impressed.

I connect my phone to the speaker in bring it into the bathroom with me.

I am speechless upon seeing the free standing soaking tub full of bubbles. On the bamboo bath caddy, a glass of wine, and other bath accessories.

Oh, Chris, you are too much, I think to myself.

I undress myself and dip into the warm water. It's the perfect temperature, I'm immediately relaxed. The eucalyptus and lavender air diffuser helps, as well as the arrangement of unscented candles burning in the window sill.

Before getting too comfortable, I scrub my body with a cloth, thoroughly washing in, over, and between every crevice and fold.

Knock. Knock.

I open my eyes to Chris standing in the door. This time, without the apron.

My smile is enough permission for him to enter.

"I appreciate all of this." I finally admit.

Chris sits in the window sill to my left just an inch from the tub and curls his lips into a smile.

"I appreciate you."

I just hum and take a sip of wine.

"You don't have to work today?" I ask.

Chris shakes his head. "Wanted to spend the day with you."

I think of three responses but not one slips out. I honestly don't know what to say to that.
On one hand, it's major for him to have called out of work for me. Also, I feel bad like it's not necessary.

"I didn't have a big epiphany while you were gone," Chris speaks.

"No?" I question, letting my eyes close. "What changed?"

"Nothing," he says then hesitates. "I just came to my senses."

"Hm." I sound, almost like I don't believe him but this is just to pull the rest out of him.

"Morgan, you're everything to me. I realize I need to show it more. You are my number one priority and I'm sorry for making you feel like you're not. These last few days were hard, I realize my life isn't the same without you. I don't want me, or you, to ever have to question us again, babe."

His words come out so poetically, they don't sound rehearsed, just raw and beautiful. I can count on my hands how many times he's been this vulnerable with me, and each time, it's a wonderful thing.

I release the tension in my shoulders and put my head against the tub, rolling my neck to face Chris. I slowly open my eyes as I speak. "I feel like that was the longest three days of my life. All I did was think."

"What did you think about?"

I answer just as fast as he replied. "Why you let me go so easily. Like, why is it so easy for you to not be with me anymore?"

"I thought you wanted space?"

Again, my response is on the tip of my tongue before he even fully lets out his question.

I say, "I did, but you didn't fight for me. Or, that's just how it seemed. I guess you were too busy baking."

"Morgan, I respected you enough to give you space. That's what you wanted, right, and I'm wrong? If I didn't give you that, would anything have gotten resolved?"

I sigh. "I'm not saying you're wrong, Chris. Why can't we say how we feel without it, like, being a thing?"

"Okay, how do you feel?"

"Taken for granted." I answer mechanically. I'm relieved once that's off of my chest.

That was a blow to Chris, I can see it in his demeanor. He looks less confident, slouching.

"Do you want kids, Morgan?" His question makes me pause and stare at him blankly.

"I'm sorry?"

"We can have them," he says almost desperately, "I don't care."

"You're just saying that-"

"I'm only trying to do what will make you happy."

"Compromise will make me happy," I affirm, signaling him towards me. "As much as I like to be right and get what I want, I don't want you doing anything just to shut me up. I love you and I want us to work. We're a team, right?"

"I'm not a good partner." Chris says, hanging his head.

I've never seen him so self-deprecating.

"Shh," I whisper, grabbing his hair. "you're the best. If anything, I don't deserve you. You have so much going for yourself, a great job, a nice car, beautiful house, an amazing family, and a beautiful, loving girlfriend."

Chris's soft chuckle makes me laugh with him.

"You have a lot going for yourself, too."

I shrug, relaxing back under the water.

"Not like you do. I mean, I'm just a housewife— not even a wife, oh my God."

He laughs, taking my hand to kiss it. "If I may rewind this conversation: tell me what I need to do for us to be us again."

I push back any arising feelings of lust and cut my eyes away from Chris's lips.

"I just want you to be honest, Chris..." I falter. "Did you just want to leave me for Sabrina?"

"What?"

I purse my lips, knowing he heard me but I repeat myself anyway. "When you were considering breaking up with me, was it because of her?"

"No," Chris answers strictly. "I told you, she's nobody."

I swallow. "You said you didn't touch her, is that true?"

"She blew me a few times, that's it." He says it so casually. He's always been so blunt, this shouldn't be surprising. I just hate to hear it even though I already knew.

I take a second to look directly into his eyes and his lock back on mine. There's truth behind his, so I retract my glare.

"She won't be a problem," Chris tells me. "I promise. Is that it?"

"I want a date night." I declare, taking another drink.

Chris wrings the rag, letting water run over my chest as I sit back and bask in it with closed eyes and a sure simper.

He agrees. "Done."

"Every week." I add with emphasis.

He hesitates and I lift a brow as a warning.

Chris let's out a sigh. "Anything," he says, making me grin.

"But you can pick the day. See, compromise."

Chris chuckles, offering me a towel. "How about you get out so we finish this before you get wrinkles?"