"No rain. No flowers."

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𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 

"Morgan, stop. Stop! I'm gonna fuckin' piss myself." I am hysterical at the sight of Morgan shuffling across the floor with my shoes on her knees to look like she's small. It's hilarious and scary at the same time and has me weak. She has on a full getup, one of my fitted caps and a button-down shirt— also mine.

I'm too high for this.

"You are so weird, stop!" I try to calm down but she keeps chasing me and I can't not laugh.

Morgan falls over on the floor from laughing too hard, and finally ditches the shoes and hat.

"Phew." She stands and collects herself.

Well, until she tackles me onto the couch.

I'm winded and regain strength to wrestle Morgan's body off of mine.

"Okay, okay." She begs. "I tap out. Damn."

I let her go and laugh at how defeated she looks. "Why would you manhandle me like that?"

I drop my jaw at her. "You literally tackled me."

"Shut up." She says, slapping my face.

I'm confused but only until I see her bite her lip and then start to unbutton her (my) top.

"Oh?" I growl against Morgan's lips. Hers are soft, like always, and sweet like sugar.

"Wait!" Her voice is pitchy.

I exhale my disappoint as she pulls away from my neck.

"It's almost your birthday!" She sings.

I don't care and just run my hands up the sides of her body, under the wrinkled shirt.

She's always so soft, smells like an angel, it's enough to make me sink my teeth into her neck in the exact spot that I know drives her wild.

Her "mhm" is music to my ears, I caress her breasts and take them in. So beautiful.

"And — oh my God— we should start thinking about what you want to do. You listening, babe?" She looks down at me.

"Yeah." I breathe out, never removing my eyes from her perfect body.

I grab her hips and start moving her body against mine, losing myself for a moment.

Morgan puts her hands on my chest and catches herself before getting carried away.

"Stop." She says firmly.

I clench my jaw and toss my head back on the couch, trying to focus, but how can I when her body is on full display for me?

"I don't want a big party, Morgan." I have to emphasize. Knowing her, we'll fly to another country and she'll manage to throw some huge surprise party.

She slouches like I just bursted her bubble. "But you're getting old, we have to!"

I grab both sides of her face and bring our foreheads together to say loud and clear, "I. Don't. Want. A. Birthday. Party."

She pulls away and scrunches her nose at me. "Don't be silly, you have to celebrate."

"Why can't it just be us?" I sound like a whining bitch, I know.

"Because," she drags her words and tugs on my shirt. "other people love you and want to celebrate you, too. Now come on, let's brainstorm themes!"

"Morgan," I groan, "I don't care about my birthday and you trying to make me have a party is actually very selfish."

"But-" she pouts, now speechless.

Silence falls. I know she thinks she can sit here and keep looking all adorable, making those puppy eyes so I can give in but it won't work.

But she's so damn cute.

"Fine." I agree finally.

That didn't last long.

"Really?! Yay!" She shrieks, wrapping me in her arms.

"It'll be the best birthday party you've ever had!" She promises with a kiss.

"We actually need to think about The Hamptons, first, babe." I remind her.

Morgan's energy drains as I bring up Russ's event again. She claims The Hamptons isn't for people like us, but I beg to differ. Everyone's going, and we were invited. If this is my life now, she's a part of that. I was never one to dream about celebrity status, or having the most expensive material things, but here I am, and I deserve it. She deserves it, we deserve it. I want to give Morgan everything in life, this is just a start.

~~~

"—You said you're very close to your mother, right? That she did everything for you growing up, that you're her entire world?" Dr.Rita Hassan digs into my past.

I groan and toss my head back, knowing where this shit is going.

"And now you expect Morgan, your girlfriend, to give you the same treatment. You are an only child after all, this need for one hundred percent of their attention is normal. This thing you're chasing, though, you have to make sure she's on board or else you'll push her away. You are an ambitious man, Chris, who knows exactly what he wants and when he wants it. I just worry you'll resent Morgan if she doesn't cater to this lifestyle you've dreamt up for you both. Tell me, Chris, if she doesn't comply, what will you do?"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"That's our time," Rita says, standing. She closes her notepad and extends her hand for me to shake it. "will I be seeing you routinely, or you'll just pop in again when you need me?"

I look at her dark hand and don't shake it.

"That's it?" I snarl.

She removes her purple reading glasses and gives me this sort of smirk.

"Morgan is leveling up, between therapy, her own healing, and finding her own hobbies outside of you, she won't have as much time for you anymore. That scares you. She already left you this morning for a meeting, leaving you to fend for yourself, huh? You don't like that. You don't want to admit it, but as much as she needed you, you need her. Now the foundation is cracking and you're trying to put a band-aid over it by rushing to have babies and secure your American Dream. Chris, put her first."

"If I put her first, I'm second. She's always been a priority, but I just have to be on the back burner now?"

Rita shakes her head. She links her arm in mine and shows me outside.

"No. That's not what I'm saying. You have planted the seed, now watch it grow. Her time in the sun is not limiting yours. Under the soil, your roots may be intertwined, but above ground, you rise differently, and that's okay. You may be a thorny rose, and she a daisy, but you are both still flowers and in need of something common in order to thrive. Will you respect that she is on her own journey independent of yours? Or, will you— actually, I don't have anymore wisdom, but you get it. Be there for her, not bitter that she's doing something that doesn't involve you, chile. She's your partner, celebrate that and her success, too. But you have to decide how you'll react if she isn't on board with this dream you're chasing. Have a good day, Chris."

~~~

I suck my teeth and go back to get my phone that was left charging in the wall.

My everything🤍 (3)

9:24am oh my gosh the shop will be open soon!!!

10:01am Celebrate over dinner at 8? I'll be the dessert

12:34pm Hello?????

I fix my thumbs to type a reply but halt when I hear someone creeping in behind me.

"What do you want, Beck?" I question him before I even turn so we're face to face.

"You interest me, Vaughn. Every time I think I have you figured out, you find a new way to shock me. Truly, I'm impressed."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Watch how you're talking to me, I am your superior."

I laugh in his face before swiping a hand down mine. "Fire me, then, Beck. Please."

"No, that'll be too easy. I know you hate me, why don't you hit me? Go ahead, like you did to those men back in Colorado? Penshaw to be exact, nice little town, your parents still live there. Mary and Carter, I believe their names are."

My blood starts to boil. I can't control my fists balling behind my back or my tense jaw.

I want to hit him, I do. I want to break one of his legs, maybe some ribs, and then make him beg me to stop. And then, I still won't.

He doesn't know me like he thinks he does, clearly. Mentioning my parents at all is a huge mistake. Digging up my past was a violation. The fuck does this guy want from me, I'm not sure, although I have an idea. . .

I'm just waiting for him to bring up Morgan. When people try to get to me, that's how they usually do it, and they'll get a rise out of me every time.

I overheard their talk in the mall, Beck asking her to lunch and apparently that wasn't the first time, either. I've just kept it to myself so I don't stir up any drama between Morgan and I, but he's got another thing coming if he thinks I've let it go.

"Will my wife and I see you in The Hamptons this weekend?" Asks Beck, this stupid smirk on his clean shaven face.

I should smack it off.

I stuff my hands in my pockets and swallow hard. This is the hardest I've ever had to practice self-control. If he says her name, I won't be able to hold back anymore.

"Wife?" I question him. This is my first time hearing of a wife. Mistresses? Yes, all the time. Wife? No.

"Uh, yes, Cordelia. She brought in those treats and the handheld bibles last week? You only ate, like, a dozen." He refreshes my memory.

I always forget about that frumpy little woman because she's so awkward looking and down right irrelevant to me, but she is kind.

"So," he speaks again. "The Hamptons? Will I see you there-"

Just to throw him off, I force a small smile myself and then drop it. "No, you won't."

"Well that's too bad. I enjoy our little exchanges. Maybe next time, or let's do lunch?"

My eyes scan him once over. I'm unimpressed and bored with him. His act is no longer aggravating anymore, it's just plain annoying now.
I've gotten in his head, obviously, he has some type of hard on for me that's why he won't drop this imaginary beef. I know I hate him but I don't have it out for him necessarily, that's why it's one-sided. Yeah, I'll beat his ass if I'm given the opportunity, but I don't worry about him anymore than I have to. His problem with me remains unknown, but I repeat, it better be about me or my work, not over my girl.

~~~

1:53 am

"BABE!" Morgan's voice travels through the townhouse.

She just got in. I look at my phone, it's late.

This is new for her. Let it be the first and last time.

"CHRIS!" She shouts even louder as she draws near.

I hear her footsteps on the stairs and she stumbles, laughing it off.

If I was in the mood, it would be funny.

The lights in the hall turn on, telling me she's closer, so I turn over.

Her giggles ring through my ears once she busts inside of the bedroom.

"Psst," she whispers, still hysterical. "baby, are you up?"

She tries tiptoeing across the floor but trips over something instead.

I remain still and mute as she jumps on the bed.

"I'm drunk... and I won a thousand dollars at the casino... a-and I'm really horny so you better stop acting sleep!" She continues laughing, this time more manically, as she crawls under the covers.

Goddamn the sex-goddess that she is. I hope my dick doesn't betray me because I love drunk Morgan in bed, but I have to put my foot down. She stood me up tonight and if the roles were reversed she'd have me sleep on the couch. I'm not mad, just disappointed. I get a lot of grief for shit like this and it kind of confirms all that I was worried about in therapy: her lack of attention to me is starting already.

Morgan kisses up my chest, along my neck, and then reaches her hand down my pajama pants which finally triggers a reaction.

"Morgan, stop, it's late." I use that as my excuse though it's never been one before.

She bites down on her lip. "Shut up." She roars and pulls off her shirt, revealing her black strapless bra.

"What? What's wrong?" She stops grinding on my lap to ask, receiving my cold glare.

"I'm tired, Morgan, need my eight hours, remember?" My words make her tuck the hair behind her ears and pout.

"Are you mad at me?" She's too cute to deny.

I just gently remove her from my lap and shake my head no.

"But you've never said no to sex before?" She sounds defeated and looks it, too. Her posture is lost, she slouches and stares off into the darkness.

"Morgan-" I sigh.

Before I can say anything else, she snatches up a pillow and yanks the blanket off of my body to take downstairs.

"Morgan!" I call out after her but she slams the door.

I fluff my pillow, frustrated, and try getting comfortable under just the sheet but can't.
When I look between my legs, I feel and see a situation that needs to be situated. Shit.

Now I'm wide awake and hard and I ran her off. Fucking great.