"Happiness is not a luxury. It is a necessity. When we are happy, we are in the best possible place to be good to ourselves and those we love."

──────⊱⁜⊰─────

𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏

Time has never gone by any slower. It's like molasses, whatever that is, but fuck. The waiting is killing me.

I sit on the edge of the tub and chew my lip, my leg shaking to personify my anxiety.

It's been seven days, I need to know.

So, I haven't felt any different, but I did miss my period. Although, it's been irregular (abnormal) anyway since getting off of my birth control. Again.

Either way, I know with all the raw "practice" Chris and I have been getting in, there's a good — no, great— chance that I'm pregnant. Here's hoping.

My phone screen finally lights up with the timer going off and I shout for Chris.

"Chris! Baby, get in here!" I yell with the frantic flickering of my wrist. "Hurry up!"

He comes running in in no time and barges inside of the bathroom, dropping by my side on the tub.

Excitement wears on his face. If I didn't feel like throwing up, I'd smile and kiss him for being so cute and supportive.

I dead my alarm and take a deep breath in.

This is it.

"Okay," I exhale. "I'm ready."

No I'm not.

My palms are sweaty, legs trembling, heart's beating out of my chest.

I close my eyes shut before inhaling greatly again.

Taking Chris's hand, I pick up the first at-home pregnancy test with my other and brace myself a second time.

Negative

"It could be wrong, try the other one." Chris instructs, trying to be optimistic.

I nod and pick up the next test.

Negative

We both sigh.

"One more." He says, starting to pace with his fingers locked behind his head.

I gulp.

Impatiently, Chris reads the final stick. It says:

Negative

I'm surprised. Kind of relieved, to be honest, but surprised.

"Sorry," I talk quietly with my head hung. "I thought for sure it was time. We'll just keep trying."

He nods his head and then forces my head to his hard chest. I'm held there momentarily, sulking, feeling his heartbeat.

"Is there something wrong with me, you think? Since I had the abort-" Chris cuts me off there.

He looks displeased but quickly tries putting on a more understanding facial expression. I know it's because me having an abortion is still hard to talk about - the thought of that man impregnating me in the first place.

"Nothing's wrong with you, Morgan. Come on," Chris's voice rasps. He heads towards the door and holds it open. "we have to get them to the airport now if we wanna make the luncheon."

There's a slight hint of defeat in his tone. He also frowns. I can see the disappointment and it makes me want to curl into a ball.
I can't give Chris what he wants right now, and that's the hard part, not fulfilling his needs for once.

~~~

I've heard about The Hamptons. I've seen it in pictures and movies - mostly rom-coms, of course, but I've never actually been.

It's like the rich person's getaway here in New York. A paradise away from their already luxurious lives. Everything screams "I have privilege."
Places like this don't even seem like it's in the states anymore, and that's not a complaint.

"That's your hotel? It looks like someone's home!" Mary gushes over the phone about the picture message I've just sent.

"I know right!" I try to multitask as I see Chris walking into the bedroom to rush me.

Chris, with a drink in his hand, taps his wristwatch.

"I'm coming." I mouth to him, shaking my necklace about so he'll get the hint to help me with it and he does.

"Mom, I love you, but we gotta go." Chris says, awaking my phone screen only to see I've been on the phone with his mother for half an hour now.

I don't have to see her face to know she has a warm smile on it.
"Have fun, you two. I love you."

"Love you, too." Chris and I reply before he ends the call for me.

I turn to him and look bored. "What's the rush?"

"I want to be on time for Russ's party. This is a big deal." He reminds me with a strict slap to my hip.

I quickly lose my attitude, remembering that's why we're here in the first place, and that this isn't just a vacation.

"Don't you love it here?" I throw my arms over his shoulders and look around at everything in such awe.

Chris catches my weight and brings me up from my dip.
"Yeah, I could get used to this."

There's such twinkle in his eye. I mean, it's only a hotel room but even the view is something out of a magazine.

Summertime in The Hamptons, what more could you ask? So serene, so otherworldly almost, it's the happening destination.

"Okay," I swallow only a sip of his whiskey. "how do I look, embarrassing? Should I change?"

He does a double take. "'Course not. You could never look embarrassing. You'll just have to worry about upstaging everyone else's wives." Chris flirts, putting his forehead to mine.

I sway side-to-side with Chris's hands at the small of my back, and grin against his wet lips.

His usual musky scent is prominent and hits my nose just right. I lose myself and nuzzle my nose in his neck where the smell is most attractive.

Chris separates our bodies just to spin me back into his crushing arms.

"I'm so in love with you." He says, staring into my eyes.

"Tell me how much." I whisper, looking deep into his green orbs.

He quickly sucks his lower lip in, staring at mine. "Why don't I show you when we get back?"

I pout like a spoiled brat but he's made me this way. "Can't we just stay here?"

Chris sighs, dropping his head. "What's wrong, you aren't happy for me?"

I swallow and regroup because I don't want it to come off that I'm ungrateful or not supportive.

"I am," I smile big, dusting off his black quarter zip polo. "extremely. I'm just nervous."

Chris's eyes shift from lustful to sincere, concerned. He sets his glass on the rail and stares at me intently.
"Nervous about what?" He inquires, palming my face to keep me from looking away.

With a gulp, I reveal my fear. "She said she's coming, Chris. What are we going to do?"

"We're not going to do anything. Neither is she. As long as you got me and I got you, nothing's getting in the way out that, no matter how hard she tries. Right? Now tell me how good I look." Chris makes me crack a laugh with a fist pound.

"You look so good, babe, everyone's gonna be so jealous." I feed his ego, but it's the truth.

Chris finishes his drink and then squeezes my hand again to walk us back through the bedroom.
"Hell yeah they are," he says, his forehead butting against mine, "when they see you with me."

~

Click.

I steal another photo on my phone to send to Mary before Chris silently warns me to put it away.

He's listening steadily to the man of the hour - 'Pyro electric vehicles' CEO, Russell Brown.

This party is all white yet my boyfriend is wearing his usual - all black.
He doesn't totally stick out like a sore thumb though because so many guests tried to add pops of color that the white is almost lost.

There's caterers and kids who look sixteen serving drinks. The cooks don't speak English well nor do the groundskeepers. It's not a good look, this particular property seems so out of touch and stuck in time.
Don't get me wrong, it's beautiful like something off of the cover of a magazine, it's just surreal.

"—And to Chris, who is building my latest project. He's been the son I've never had. Although, my son is alive, he's just a college dropout." Russ's mentioning of my boyfriend finally makes me want to listen.

Chris raises his glass to Russell who's all the way up on the balcony, looking down at everyone like he's a God.

These women have manicures that costs hundreds of dollars, Birkins, and take regular trips to Dubai. I'm not in competition, though, their menacing glares at me tell me that they may think we are.

I take another sip of my lemon water and feel refreshed under the heat. It's going to be an even longer day since I'm no longer allowing myself to drink any alcohol due to trying to get pregnant and all, I just want to be on the safe side.

Russ stops speaking, finally, and snaps me back out of my head. I applaud him only because everyone else does and I'm just glad the smooth jazz music cut back on.

"Got your own special shout out, maybe you are a big shot, after all?" I tease Chris, letting him squeeze my waist.

He laughs big, it's cute, eyes squinting like they do when he genuinely expresses himself. "What, you thought I was making this up?"

Russ approaches us with his date. She's a very thin woman in an understated sundress and high heels that are so sharp they're poking into the freshly cut grass and making her sink with every step.

"Helena, this is Chris." Russ introduces the two while I just smile and blink, not thinking I'll get any acknowledgment.

Chris shakes her hand politely and she smirks at me.

"And you are?" Helena addresses me finally.

Before I can speak, Chris does so for me.

"This," he pauses to give me a twirl. "is Morgan."

Russ and Helena both look intrigued, like I'm some shiny new toy. It's not a look of interest as if they're excited to meet me, more like they're trying to judge me - read me.

I'm blushing from Chris's flattery and hold off on my own introduction until either of them say something to me.

"Well aren't you stunning." Helena speaks through a very nasally voice.

Russ nods his head slowly, flashing Chris with a thumbs up.

"Perfection. It's nice to finally put a face to a name. Chris has said so much about you during our time working together that I feel like I practically know you."

I keep my lips creased upwards while I listen until Russ spit out every word clearly. He talks very slowly, he lingers on every syllable and speaks as if every sentence he utters is so profound.

"I don't know if I should start by thanking you for having me, or curse at you for always keeping Chris so busy."

Russ cracks a hardy laugh with a handclap. "Well, I guess you just did both. So, I'm sorry and you're welcome at the same time. How's that?"

I let out a light giggle and accept his hand shake. "Satisfactory. It's nice to meet you."

Russ kisses the back of my hand. "Hm. I smell eucalyptus and mangoes?" He continues to sniff my hand and I don't dare pull away although I'm looking at Chris, scared and confused.

"Oh, that's my whipped body cream. I make them."

"Do you?" Russ lifts his brow at me. He gently gives my hand to Helena. "Feel her."

"May I?" Helena looks at me through her false eyelashes before sniffing my hand as well. She then rubs the balls of her fingers over my skin and compliments the soft texture.

"This isn't just for hands, is it?" She asks me, still rubbing me.

"No, they're for the full body. I have some back at the hotel if you want-"

"We'll take ten. Russ, be a dear and write her a check, will you? Morgan, if this product doesn't break me out, my catalog could use a small business's organic product like yours. Find me later, we'll talk. Come on, darling." Helena takes Russ with her after he tells Chris he'll give him that check tomorrow over brunch.

"Darling," ugh.

A tap on my shoulder makes me turn swiftly to see who's face I have to smile and nod in next.

"Excuse me," a woman's voice rings. "Did I hear you make body scrubs?"

I flutter my eyelashes, adjusting my tone.

"Um, yes," I gain more confidence as I speak up. "I do."

She looks me up and down and I do the same to her in return just so she can see that it doesn't feel good to be examined like this with such hypercritical attention.

"Hm," she bites on her Chanel sunglasses. "and Helena Bass wants some?"

I look at Chris and he gives me motivational eyes that say 'do your thing.' I revert back to my old hustler ways before Pilates, brunch, and mani/pedis were a regular occurrence, and work this sale.

"Ten to be exact." I smirk at this inquiring mind. I know how these people swear by other's recommendations. You'll notice how brands like Hermès don't have ads for their Birkin bags, at a certain point, luxury is just word-of-mouth. These people, so far removed, must keep up with The Jonses. I had won over the most influential lady here, everyone else who's desperate to maintain their glamorous reputation and stay current on trends will follow.

The woman gasps and whips out her wad of cash from her gold Celine clutch.

"I'll take six!" She gasps, digging through her clutch.

"I'll have twenty." Another woman exclaims.

The next lady waves her cash in my face and says, "Four for me!"

~~~

"There you are." Helena finds me by the trimmed hedges.

"Here I am." I squeak awkwardly, sipping my drink to wash the cringe down my own throat.

She clasps her hands together and remains posed as she looks down at me from her five-foot-eleven stature.

"Enjoying yourself tonight?" She asks me.

I take a look around as if my answer will change upon seeing the same things I've seen all day.

"This is a great party, thanks again for having me."

She smiles with pride. "No need to thank me. You look so stunned. This could be your life everyday, you know?"

I sigh deeply. "I keep hearing that."

She pops her boney bare shoulder. "Because it is true. Russ only lets certain people in his circle, but he's very fond of your Chris."

"Speaking of Chris, I'm going to see if he's ready for another drink. Excuse me."

"You're excused," Helena hums. "but there was someone looking for you."

I stop and turn to face her again. "Who?" I nearly gasp.

"Don't know the name, she didn't say. All she said is she'll be by the rocks at the private beach once the sun sets." Helena walks away and I remain frozen, struck with a mix of emotions that range from confusion to anger to fear.

Sabrina, I know in my head it's her.

I peer out to the distance and see the sun still on the horizon. It's golden hour and other attendees are taking advantage of the lighting with all their selfies.

I realize that as soon as this sun sets, and the moon makes it's appearance, I will have to confront this girl hopefully for a final time. Chris said not to worry about it but how can't I?
Enough is enough.

When our relationship was disrespected by other men, he let them know never to do it again. He's fought for me, and much more.

Now it's my turn to show just what I will do to anyone who crosses the line with my man.

I walk uphill to where Chris is with Russ and a posse of other men in trousers and sweater vests.

He doesn't turn at me tugging his arm so I have to raise my voice to get his attention.

"Excuse me, Chris?" I nearly shout while standing behind his back with my arms crossed.

"What's up?" Chris asks me, coming down from his fit of laughter.

I deadpan him and hesitate to say anything. I don't have to, he just knows.

I nod upon seeing him turn into something more serious, grave-faced.

"Okay," he rasps, staring dangerously blankly over my head, "let's go."

Chris cracks his knuckles carefully like he plans on exercising each of them and that worries me.
I gulp and keep a brave face while I walk by his side towards the rocks on the beach.

We near the beach, anxiety has become me. I'm trembling, fists balled and shaking with both nerve and excitement. Chris, meanwhile, doesn't look phased but when he's not necessarily happy, he usually wears that same unamused straight face.

The sky has retired it's ocean-blue blanket for a sheet of a blue and deep purple mix sprinkled with stars now.

The sun has set, it's time. . .