𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙣
⊱ ─────────── ⊰

I hum throughout the kitchen and wipe down the counters after breakfast.

It's a peaceful mid-April, rainy Saturday morning. No plans, no obligations - just light house work and tending to the dogs, and my man.

In these past weeks, I've really settled into my role here as somewhat of a housewife (not that I wasn't basically one before.)
Life is just better here. The air is clean, the yard is spacious, the people are better all around. I couldn't ask for much more. Well, other than to hurry and have this wedding. I feel like the process is taking longer than it should, but then again, by who's standards? I don't know, I'm just stressed. I guess I thought because I'm so in love and excited to get married, that the wedding planning would be a breeze, but that's far from true. Don't get me wrong, it's not terrible, just— like I said— stressful. Chris has been more involved, though. Oy, and his mother, too, along with mine, unfortunately.

The dogs start barking wildly so I ditch my cleaning gloves and walk around the island to the front door.

"Alright," I huff at the dogs from afar, "I'm coming."

My hair brushes my low back as I switch along the heated floors.

Piper, our latest addition to the spotted dog clan, wags her tail at all the excitement. Duke and Stevie are good examples for her, she's getting along just fine. She's the cutest little thing, yet we still don't have a home for her. People online have asked me for her, but I don't want to ship her across the country. Besides, I'm still team "keep her" although Chris is still against having three dogs permanently.

Close enough now, I peer through the glass panels that makeup the front door.

My head tilts in confusion. No one's there.

One of my hands extends so that I can grab the handle but before I can make contact, a pair of feet stomping on the floor behind my body makes me jump out of my skin.

"Chris!" I gasp, slapping him in the arm.

He laughs slightly. "What?"

"You scared me." I catch my breath.

"What're you doing?" He asks me, looking around my body.

"I-" I snap my neck to refer to the door but, still, no one's there. "Nothing."

Chris gently massages my elbow and then pulls my body in front of us.
With his hand at my hips, he waddles behind me, guiding us to the laundry room.

Seeing the clothes I left on the table top, I sigh and begin folding.

"Babe?" Chris's voice is sharp.

I look up from his pair of jeans in my hands and follow his line of sight.

"Oh..." I mumble, looking at his empty suitcase.

"You didn't finish packing for me?" He practically whines.

I flail my arms. "Why do I have to do it for you, again?"

Chris chuckles and comes around the table to kiss my forehead.
Resting his hand on the small of my back, he looks down at me and says, "'Cause I like when you do it."

"Mhm." I snarl, rolling my eyes playfully. "Maybe I don't want you to leave me."

Chris locks our fingers, bringing my arms behind my back.

Looking up at him, I pucker my lips so he can kiss them and he does.

"Mmm." I moan sweetly with a small smile.

"This is for work, though, babe; you know I wouldn't leave you if I didn't have to." Chris explains.

"I know, I know," I pout, "but I'll miss you."

"It'll be the fastest four days, I promise." Chris's words comfort me.

His palms rub over my shoulders to show support. A broad smile stretches across my mouth.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings. The dogs start barking wildly to alert us.

"I'll get it," Chris offers, seeing me engaged in stuffing his suitcase.

I say nothing, just tend to my folding and hum while he leaves the room but it isn't long until he comes back, shoulders shrugging.

"Who was it?" I wonder aloud.

"Nobody." he answers nonchalantly.

"Huh." I scratch my head. "That just happened to me, too."

"Must've been the wind." Chris replies nonchalantly.

I stare at him blankly. "The wind? Really?" I question him.

Chris laughs. "It could've been the neighbor's kid, Miles, he's mad I beat him at one-on-one the other day."

I guess. . .

"Hey," Chris speaks up to change the subject once he notices my fallen facial expression.

"What are you gonna do without me?" He wonders, tongue in cheek.

I sigh deeply, looking up at him through my eyelashes.

Finally letting out a faint laugh, I answer, "Be miserable."

Laughter rings through my ears. The joke wasn't that funny so I sit, unamused.

Jeff Ruby's Steakhouse is a very upscale restaurant. Four and a half stars, in fact. They don't even open until after five pm, that's how I knew this wasn't an ordinary eatery. Or, maybe that is normal, and I don't get out much.
Either way, I am glad to get out of the house and see more of Nashville. Only, I wish I could've enjoyed a night out like this with my fiancé. He loves him some steak. I make a mental note to bring him back here once he returns from his business trip.

Since he's on my mind, I take a moment to pull out my phone and text him:

𝘐 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺

𝙄 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚
𝙒𝙮𝙙 𝙣𝙤𝙬

𝘎𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵.. 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯

😂😂😂
𝙅𝙖𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚? 𝙂𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙡𝙪𝙘𝙠
𝙄'𝙢 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙤𝙤. 𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧

With a sigh, I lock my iPhone and put it back into my black Coach 'Tabby' crossbody wristlet.

"—Earth to Morgan?" Jasmine cracks up, snapping in my face.

I push her hand away and force a laugh. "I'm here. Sorry. Did you already order?"

"We did, let me call the server back," says Tate without hesitation.

"No, that's okay. I don't know what I want-" I try to stop him but it's too late.

He whistles and snaps his fingers, calling over someone from the wait staff.

I am so embarrassed.

Although, no heads turn in the place so perhaps these customers and staff are used to assholes like Tate.

"Yes, sir?" The waiter bows for Tate.

"The woman is ready to order." Jasmine's date says with a smirk, eyes locked on me. He seems far too self-satisfied, like he was happy to do me that favor.

I swallow hard, rushing over the menu.

"I-I don't know," I stammer, feeling bad for taking too long. "Can I just have, um, the Classic Caesar salad, please?" I push the menu away for now and rub my neck.

"Is that all, miss?" Asks the waiter.

"Yes, and she'll have one, too." Tate refers to Jasmine.

"But, snookums, I already ordered the Tuna Tartare..." Jasmine speaks quietly.

Tate keeps his arm around her and says, with a stiff smile, "Yes, but this is a better choice. Trust me."

"Can I still get dessert?" Jasmine sounds like she's begging a parent - asking permission.

Tate lifts her chin and pecks her lips with his thin ones. "Of course, doll. As long as I'm on the menu."

"You know you are, big daddy." Jasmine's flirting makes me throw up in my mouth.

I look at the waiter who's already looking at me in disgust, as well. He laughs quietly and then walks away, claiming our salads will be right out.

Jasmine is completely consuming Tate's whole face, kissing him sloppily at the table.

My face curls up but I try to help it when Tate looks at me through one open eye, and winks.

He manages to pry Jasmine off of him and says, "My, Morgan, don't you look pretty tonight."

I pull my lips into a thin line, awkwardly, and fold my arms over my chest since he can't keep his eyes away from my cleavage.

"Doesn't she, Jasmine?" He asks her.

Jasmine looks me up and down, then snarls. "So do I, bookie."

Tate laughs in her face. "Your makeup is patchy right there, darling, why don't you go and powder your nose?"

Jasmine looks at herself in his phone camera and pops up to go use the bathroom.

"I'll come!" I offer quickly, just anxious to leave Tate behind.

Instead, Jasmine pushes me down by the shoulders and insists I sit and stay.
"I need you two to talk about me while I'm gone." She perks up, excusing herself from the booth.

Wow, I mouth once she's gone.

Tate lights a cigar, never taking his blue eyes off me once.

"Jasmine is a sweet girl," I spark conversation. "you two look good together-"

"How's Chris?" Tate's sudden subject change throws me off.

My eyelids flicker, I have whiplash from how fast his tone switched.

His eyes lower, narrowing on my body. I feel... uncomfortable. But why? He's an entitled ass, and yes he's checked me out and complimented me several times tonight, but he's here with Jasmine, and one of Chris's good friends.

"Uh, he's good. Yeah. Why, didn't you talk to him before he left?"

"Of course," Tate says, swirling his glass of white wine. "you two been alright?"

"More than alright."

"Ah." He sounds, barely emoting.

I watch Tate take another swallow and keep his eyes on me.

I get an itch on my arm and scratch it.

"You two are strong. I mean, you're strong." He says.

"Why do you say that?" I ask, tilting my head slightly.

Tate chews his lip and then leans in closer.
He talks with his hands and says, "Any woman who can stay with a man after he goes and gets an STD test behind her back-"

"His results were all negative, since you know everything."

Tate cackles. "I'm sure. Still, that must've scared you, thinking you had something."

"I was never worried." I gulp, lying.

I'm usually an honest person but he doesn't need to know what really transpired. Of course I was upset, I thought Chris cheated and caught something, passing it to me. Silly of me, I'll admit, Chris would never. Sure, he had that slip in Penshaw while we were on a break but I know for a fact that would never happen again, or anything else like it.

"Did you get checked, between you and I, I think you should?" He winces for effect.

"Tate," I inhale deeply before continuing to say, "I'm going to tell you this one time: Chris and I are very secure in our relationship. While it's not private, it's not open for people like you to stick your noses in. You're only Chris's friend, and Jasmine's date, I don't appreciate you bringing this up."

"Back!" Jasmine exclaims.

She scoots past Tate who didn't bother standing to let her comfortably sliding in the booth.

With a grin on her freshly made up face, she looks between her date and I.

"So, what did you say about me while I was in the little girl's room? Sorry I took so long there was a line." She talks, pouring herself another glass of wine.

As she gulps it down, she looks again between Tate and I.

I shyly look away, rubbing my neck.

"Did I miss something, why are y'all so quiet?" She burps.

I fake a yawn. "I'm really tired, I think I'm just going to let you two enjoy your night."

Standing from the table, I feel Tate's piercing eyes on me.

Jasmine, on the other hand, couldn't seem more ecstatic that I'm leaving. I won't ruin her night by telling Tate off, asking Jas to leave with me, or letting her know that he was a complete jackass while she was gone.

She's only doing this to get back at Jabari anyway, I tell myself in my head. Which gives me an idea. . .

✕

"Mum! Dad! Bingo!" The theme song plays on the living room flat screen.

"BLUEY!" I find some enthusiasm to shout out the main character of the Australian animated kids show.

"I can't believe how much you like this shit." Chris finally pays me attention on FaceTime.

I laugh quietly, looking at him in the camera.

We've been on the phone since he got back from dinner and drinks, at like, eleven o'clock.

As soon as he got back to the room, though, he had a project to work on so I've been watching him do that.

Chris yawns and then rubs his eyes. He returns to concentrating. I can't help but feel bad and wish he'd go to sleep, he's so stressed.

"Baby, it's two in the morning," I talk through a small yawn. "go to sleep."

"I can't, I need to finish this."

"You're a perfectionist, Chris, you're never going to be finished."

His shoulders raise, insinuating a laugh, as he downs a Prime energy drink.

"You're right," he admits, "but still, I need to do a little bit more, then I'll go to sleep. Promise."

"How was dinner?" He asks for the first time since we've been on the phone.

A banner notification drops down on my phone screen with a text from Tate. It reads:

𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩❤️

My face curls up. Why is he so weird?

"Huh, babe?" I tune back in and hear Chris speaking to me.

"What'd you say, I'm sorry?"

Chris chuckles, looking at me laying down sideways on the couch.

"I asked about dinner?"

"It was just as weird as you'd expect, they were practically swallowing each other in front of me, and when they weren't, Tate was telling me how good I looked all night. I left early."

"Mhm." Is all Chris says.

I suck my teeth, watching him get lost in his work.

"Chris, did you hear me?"

"Huh?"

My eyes roll. "I said Tate was being weird, he said I was pretty, and he even just texted me."

"Saying what?"

"That it was good seeing me."

"Hm."

Realizing I'm losing Chris, I smack my lips and sit up, ready to go to bed.

"Alright, good night-"

"No, I'm still here." He claims, picking the phone up to look at me.

"What should I do about Tate?"

"Don't say anything, I'll take care of it," Chris tells me.

"You will?" I perk up with excitement. Not because I want Chris to go all hard on him, but I like him defending me. Tate was out of line and needs to be checked for it.

"Yeah," Chris says plainly. "go to sleep."

"You too."

"I will soon," he assures me. "Good night."

"Good night," I whisper, "I love you. So much."

"I love you more than that." He makes me smile before I say good night again and hang up.

I yawn and then see a meme Chris has just sent me.

Shaking my head, I laugh at it. His ass isn't going to sleep soon.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Someone pounds at the door, waking Duke and Piper.

Stevie is the first to run to the front door, barking wildly until I join her to see who's there.

"What the hell?" I mumble, rolling off of the couch.

I stomp through the foyer and then stare beyond the glass panels.

It's Jasmine and she's drunk.

I open the door and she stumbles in after me.

Before I shut us inside, I look around but no one's there.

"Did Tate just drop you off like this?" I ask her, helping her out of the high heels.

Jasmine nods. "He wasn't in the mood for me to stay tonight, so, here I am. Surprise!"

"Oh, Jas." I sigh, helping her off of the floor.

I carry Jasmine to the couch and let her lie down in my spot.

"Do you think he even likes me?" Jasmine asks me, sounding like she's about to cry.

Lord, I can't deal with this shit.

I fold my arms over my chest.

"Who, Tate, I don't think he likes himself?" I answer.

Jasmine burps. "He's such a good guy."

"You really know how to pick 'em."

"Unlike that bum ass nigga, JB, Tate knows how to make me feel like a lady. He wine and dines me." She giggles with her eyes closed. Meanwhile, mine roll to the back of my head.

"He even—"

"Jasmine, look, I don't care. At all." I put my foot down.

"W-what?" She slurs her words.

I exhale aggressively. "Not about you, it's Tate. He's not good for you, Jasmine."

"You're just saying that. Why don't you want me happy?"

I sit beside her, trying to be consoling now that I see she's getting emotional.

"I do, but not with Tate. He's no good, Jas, trust me. When we were at dinner, he—"

"Oh, I see. You want me to be miserable just so you can have some drama in your life because things are all good with you and Chris. That it?"

I tear my face up, partially offended, but mostly confused. "What, no?!."

"You live for drama and don't want anyone else happy so you can interfere with all of our love lives and flaunt your perfect little relationship in our faces!"

"Jasmine, listen to me: Tate is a horrible person, actually. He's a creep, misogynistic, and entitled. Do you not see that?"

"Well," she says, sliding further down the couch as she slips into unconsciousness, "you know what they say, birds of a feather..." her voice trails off.

Finally, her intoxicated body slips off of the sofa and onto the floor.

I let her stay there, getting to from the couch to go to bed.

She's just drunk, she doesn't know what she's talking about, I try to tell myself. Then again, drunk words are sober thoughts.