"You've done enough. It's okay to be tired. You can take a break."

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔

"—There are no witnesses to these heinous crimes, however, a local couple did give us a moment of their time. They had this to say," the local news anchor speaks.

I tune in to the television in our bedroom and turn up the volume.

"My wife and I have been terrorized by Beck Jordan and his family for too long now. Beck and his clan has made attacks on our lives to run us out of town. Seeing as though we weren't giving up so easy, he came to our home and said that he was going to pin his murder of Tim Torro on us. He managed to get away but we chased him here and found the evidence of him killing Tim. We followed him up to the roof of the old church but when we told Beck the cops were on their way, he... just jumped, taking the two women — probably his accomplices— with him." Nick Adams tells the news.

Morgan presents herself in the room wearing red festive footie pajamas.

"Turn this off." She scoffs at the tv, snatching the remote from my hands in order to preserve my last strain of sanity.

"You think they bought it?" I wonder, swallowing hard as I pick the skin on my hands.

Morgan stands between my legs and lifts my chin.

"I just got off of the phone with Yara, she says they do. Besides, it's mostly the truth anyway... minus the parts involving me and you, and all of the money." Morgan laughs it off.

She lowers her body onto the floor and tucks the hair behind her ear as it falls when she looks down at the gauze she's holding.

"It's alright." I insist, pushing her away from my leg wound.

Her eyes stay stuck on my face, looking at me like she doesn't care about what I've just said.

"Move your hand, Chris. Let me look at it." She sounds just like my mother so I listen.

Morgan assesses the bruise on my previously injured thigh.

I watch her play nurse, wrapping my thigh in an elastic bandage.

"There." She says, kissing it. "Keep this on until you go to a doctor."

"I'm fine," I claim, wincing as I try to move my leg away from her body.

Morgan shakes her head at me. "Stubborn. You're limping, Christopher. Just go to the doctor, don't make it, like, a thing."

I give in, seeing how caring she is. "Alright."

A smile lights up Morgan's naked face. Though her beauty is still striking, she looks tired. And I don't mean sleepy, but rightfully so.

"I love you." I remind Morgan with her cheek in the palm of my hand.

She sighs and then pushes off of her knees to stand up.

"I know." She hums, keeping her eyes off of mine.

Duke and Stevie come running in, happily wagging their tails.

They jump onto the bed and attack me with hot breath and kisses.

Ding-dong! The sound of our doorbell makes them start barking madly.

"Come on," Morgan puckers her lips at the dogs. "let's get the door and let Daddy get dressed!" She speaks in a baby voice.

Duke and Stevie leap off of the bed and follow her to the door.

"Get dressed?" I curl my face, wondering what she means by that.

~

"I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas. I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas. I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas, From the bottom of my heart." Morgan leads our friends in song.

Christmas carols, not really my thing. Neither are red festive footie pajamas but Morgan has us matching and every other couple in attendance is wearing their own coordinated pajamas, as well.

Actually, I find it quite hard to be joyous at this time.

My mind is taken over with the thought that the police will come knocking at our door. They're going to find out about the money, or find our fingerprints somewhere, something. Anything.

I know we're innocent in all of this, but I just want it to be over. Having to deal with law enforcement will be another burden I won't want to take on.

Of course I'm ecstatic that Beck is dead and gone, and that Sabrina/Marissa will never bother me again, but this doesn't exactly feel like a celebration.

Realizing I'm sulking in front of our friends and family, I pull myself off of the couch and make myself another drink.

"Easy." My mother's voice appears the second I reach for the bottle of Jack Daniels - my old friend.

I roll my eyes at her. "I think I deserve another."

She gives me this motherly nagging look that I hate. "It's Christmas. What, you trying to drink away the pain of all the money you spent on Morgan?"

I laugh but only a little. Raising my glass, I bob my head and tell her, "It wasn't that much, surprisingly. She didn't really want anything, well, besides peace, happiness..."

"And you're giving her that?" Mom nudges me. We both stare out at Morgan from the other room. She's being an amazing host as usual but when she excuses herself to collect trash during a card game, we see a glimpse of melancholy overcome her. It's rare I see her so drained. I can't help but feel like it's my fault.

"I'm not, actually." I admit, looking into my cup.

Mom rubs my back. "If you ask me, she needs a break - you both do."

I hurriedly look down at her, offended. "We're not breaking up."

Mom laughs lightly. "That's not what I mean. Just, you two go through a lot, and while you always overcome, I can see that it's pretty taxing. How about a vacation?"

"I need a job, Mary."

"Work, work, work," she smacks her lips. "I hope all of this will pay off for you, Chris, I really do. Don't let it drive her away, okay?"

My face curls with my annoyed emotions. "Drive her away— what are you talking about right now? Everything I do is for Morgan. You want us to go on vacation, but I can't afford vacation if I'm not working."

"Judging by that rock on her finger, yes you can. I know you won't hear it from me, though. So, what are you thinking about work?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I want to move, start over somewhere else. Somewhere where they don't know me and I get in for what I know, not who."

Mom nods with her face pulled down into an inquisitive frown. "I know how dedicated to Morgan you are, but promise me you'll take some you time, too? I know you're not okay right now, and that's fine-"

"I am fine," I argue immediately.

"Babe!" Morgan shouts from the living room.

"So fine," I hiss at the taste of whiskey traveling down my throat. "that I'm going to go sing more fucking Christmas songs. You coming?"

Mom smiles small yet shakes her head no. "Only if you use your real voice, you know I like how you sing."

I walk with my mother, leaning into her body, and laugh. "Oh, you mean this voice: la la la la la?" I animate my tone to annoy my mother and it works.

~~~

Jabari is the last to leave with Jasmine and Trey.

Our Christmas was definitely an eventful one, one for the books.

I know I spent multiple hours sulking, but I'm really fucking grateful for my family and friends.

Mom and Dad left with The Bennett's to catch some late night show. Good for them.

Sometime after karaoke, Morgan shut down. She stopped talking, well, to me mostly, and was short with everyone else. Not in a rude way, just in a way that says she's not being herself. I didn't bother to ask because our energies are reflective of one another, and that conversation will probably be more of a dead-end, the both of us just claiming we're tired or overstimulated.

After locking the doors, and letting Duke and Stevie back inside, I retire to our bedroom.

My footsteps drag heavy across the floor.

Going to bed right now feels like both a reward and a punishment. All I want to do is sleep and hope I wake up to some good news: a new job, the case is closed, and/or that this has all been a nightmare.
On the other hand, sleeping off my problems instead of facing them seems so cowardly.

I sit on the edge of the bed and stare blankly ahead at the wall. Huh. I've never noticed the weird, blotchy paint job there. It's like someone let a kid paint that patch and left it like that.

The room, for once, is almost completely silent. I don't like it. My thoughts are too loud. I try to turn them off but they don't stop, only grow to torment me some more.

Morgan exits our bathroom. Her eyes are dry while I was expecting a river of tears. She's totally mentally, spiritually, and emotionally checked out.

I breathe through my nose and then raise my head so that I can acknowledge her again.

"We need to talk," she says mechanically.

I don't feel the need to nod or verbally agree because that much is obvious, I welcome it.

I gulp.

Her next words, "I'm not happy."

***

Dear Chris, January 14

Hey baby! Can you believe it's almost been four weeks already?! Feels like I just got here yesterday.
I haven't told your Mom, yet, but this place she recommended is REALLY nice. I didn't believe that she really came here, but some of the doctors remembered her.
Someone called this place a "crazy house" the other day and they got kicked out. The counselor reminded them it's a completely voluntary retreat and that the program only works if we do. I think it is.

Oooo, they served me the BEST lemon meringue pie the other night I thought of you.

Anyway, I asked them if I could call you twice a week instead of once, and they said yes because I'm doing so well! I can't wait to hear your voice. I miss it. I miss you.

Have you been looking at the moon every night at 11:11 like I said? I do all the time. Sometimes I pray to whatever's up there (or the energy) but mostly I just think about you.

I'm counting down the days until you get to visit! I don't want to have to sneak you in again but I will!
My team doesn't believe you're real when I tell them about you.

LOL I loved those pictures you sent of you Mary and Carter from vacation. Those need to be framed! I'm glad you had fun. Can't believe you're all literally road-tripping in a RV without me but you guys deserve it!

How's the job search going? Good, I hope. Or are you not thinking about that right now? You know I support whatever you do.
Did you cut your hair again, it was getting long? I like it long. so make sure you send me a picture - it's for my scrapbook. Yes I scrapbook now lol

^ we went horseback riding obviously. It was fun, kind of freeing in a weird way? Lol Does this make me a horse girl?

I know I look happy, and for the most part, I am but don't think that I'm not completely miserable without you :(

Okay, my hand is cramping but if I could go on, I would and you know it!

Tell everyone that I'm doing good! I miss them all.
Kiss Duke and Stevie for me, make sure she doesn't push out any puppies until I'm home!

I'll be waiting for your next letter, and cherishing it until our second phone call this week.

I love you SO much. Continue to take care of yourself and h-e-a-l. You mean the world to me! Miss you always.

-Annie