𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙣
⊱ ─────────── ⊰

Time is flying by! It's been another month and while it seems like nothing's gone on, the days just come and go.

Chris is still doing great at work, stalling a project with Lydia who's been less of a pain in my ass than before. I'm still watching her, though. Something just seems off.

Jasmine is fully settled here in Nashville with no plans to return to New York soon. I wouldn't be bitter about this if it meant I could spend time with her, but Tate has her on a short leash. If you ask Chris, though, that's not a bad thing.
Oh, yeah, my best friend and fiancé still aren't on good terms, they both act like the other doesn't exist. It's sad, really, but for the best. The last thing I want is them fighting; I figure they'll get it together before the wedding at least for my sake.

Izzy and Lee regularly update us on our nephew, Kai. He's getting so big, I love him so much. Ugh, every conversation, I invite them over and they always say "soon." Little do they know, I have something planned. Like I said, everyone needs to get it together before the wedding. Since I'm looking to have that in July, I'm planning a little friend-reunion beforehand. You know, just to get the band back together.

God, July is coming faster than I thought - in another four weeks, actually. I'm not getting cold feet, it's just that time is ticking. I have the guest list finalized and invitations ready to be mailed, the menu is all sorted out, the venues are secured, our honeymoon is mapped out to a t, and my dress is almost perfect.

I pick up a string bikini from my drawer and untangle it. Holding it to my body, I model it in the mirror, and wonder. Since I've moved to Nashville, I haven't had the same online presence; wanting to get married and prep my body for a baby, I haven't posted or even taken any risqué pictures. Luckily I maintained my usual audience but the likes have definitely gone down. Chris never cared about my half-naked modeling before, but he's been relieved since I've stopped posting like that.

"Baby, is this sexy?" I ask Chris as he passes by with both green eyes glued to his iPad.

He doesn't even look up to mumble, "Mhm."

I suck my teeth at him, this gets his attention.

Chris, deciding to be attentive suddenly, blinks at me slowly. "Very," he replies.

I smile with satisfaction and toss it into my suitcase.

"Woah." Chris laughs, taking the fabric out of my bag.

I flail my arms. "What, you said it's sexy?"

"That's exactly why you're not taking it. Need I remind you," he emphasizes his words, "this is a business trip."

My eyes roll to the back of my head. "If it's a business trip, then why is Tate going?"

Chris chuckles, throwing his iPad onto the mattress so that he can bicker with me.

"Because," he tries to explain, "he's an investor. Plus it's his dad's lake house."

"Mhm." I reply, not really caring.

Not only is Tate going, but his two brain cells - Jake and Ben. They're all poster children for Frat boys, it's crazy. You know the type, they peaked in college. I think both of their only personality trait is having a trust fund.
Tate's nice but something about him makes my skin crawl. Ben isn't so bad. He's adorable, actually.
It's Jake, the brute, and Tate who are the assholes. When Chris confronted him about hitting on me at dinner, Tate claimed he was just being kind and that Chris should be flattered someone else finds me attractive. While it's true, I'm beautiful, it just weirds me out coming from Tate - not only is he Chris's friend, but he's Jasmine's, um, boyfriend. Sure, let's go with that.

"Anyway, it's just a bikini, Chris." I take it out of his hands and toss it back onto my pile of clothes.

Chris tilts his head at me. "Fine, I'm not even going to try."

"Good." I snarl, pushing everything into place inside of the suitcase.

"But," Chris speaks up, "do you remember me having this conversation with you before? How'd that end?"

"So what do you want me to wear?"

"Good question. I was thinkin' a brown paper bag." He finds himself funny but I don't laugh.

"Babe," I smack my lips. "I just want to feel... sexy."

"You are sexy."

Like a rotten child, I roll my eyes and stomp my foot. "I don't feel like it!"

Pouting, I sit down on the bed with my chin in the palm of my hands.

Chris laughs and I glare at him coldly for it.

"Sorry," he apologizes, sitting beside me. "Morgan, you're serious? Babe, you're the sexiest woman I've ever seen."

Not believing him, I just inhale deeply then exhale, falling onto my back.

"But I don't feel like it!" I repeat, loudly this time, and my limbs flail dramatically.

Chris laughs at me, dropping his weight on top of my body.

"Don't I tell you that, like, every day?" He asks, pushing the hair out of my face.

"Yes." I frown, looking away from his eyes.

Chris mocks my whiney "yes" and kisses my nose. "That's not enough for you?"

"Yes. No. I mean-- I don't know, Chris. It is, err, it should be. I just feel like... maybe I'm not wanted."

"What? I want you." Chris emphasizes, squeezing my body.

"I know," I complain, "but— forget it, I don't know."

Chris sits up and stares me in the eyes. "Morgan, what's really wrong? Tell me."

I sigh. "I don't know what's wrong, really. It's just a feeling, I'll get over it."

"Is it something I did?"

"No, baby, it's not you at all."

"You sure?" Chris asks, rubbing my shoulders.

"Positive," I assure him with a soft smile.

"Alright," Chris responds with a crooked grin. "I love you."

"I love you." I say back, watching as he stands.

Suddenly, the door rings and Chris offers to go get it while I finish packing for him and I.

✕

"Alright, baby," I talk happily as I skip down the stairs, "I packed your bags. If we leave now, we can make it in-"

I stop talking upon hearing laughter coming from Chris's office.

Curiously, I walk towards the study and listen in. It's a Saturday, he shouldn't be working, so I'm simply wondering who is in there, and why they're having such a good time.

"—Ah, Christopher, you really are quite the charmer. And talented, too. I love the contemporary aspects, the house will be lovely." She cheers.

I know that voice - Lydia. I roll my eyes, disturbed by her being here.

I tap my knuckles on the door but enter anyway.

"Oh, Morgan, hi." Lydia greets me, standing to shake my hand but I ignore her gesture.

Instead, I walk around the desk and rush Chris out of his chair.

"Honey," I say through gritted teeth. "did you forget we have somewhere to be?"

Chris looks at the time on his watch then facepalms. "I'm sorry, babe, Lydia and I just lost track of time."

"Mhm." I murmur, eyeing the woman up and down.

She smooths back the flyaway strands of her sleek grey wig and clears her throat.

"Well, I won't keep you. I just stopped by to drop off my famous tuna salad after hearing you all had quite the road trip." Lydia smiles at me but I swear it's fake.

I don't say anything, just look between an awkwardly silent Chris and Lydia until one of them finally makes a move to end this encounter.

"Well," Lydia coughs, "here's the tuna. I really hope you like it, Annie. Although, Chris says you make really good chicken salad."

Did she just call me Annie?

I accept the Tupperware and try to control my face from frowning up.

"Oh, Chris? Are we still on for next weekend?" Asks Lydia, pulling her handbag over her shoulder.

"Of course," Chris says with a smile, "here, let me show you out."

As he helps her around the chairs, he looks back at me with threatening eyes that say "be nice."

I flip him off and then follow them to the front door.

"—Have fun on your little trip, but not too much fun. Oh, and don't forget about the ball I mentioned." Lydia snickers.

As she calls for her dog, Bebe, I furrow my eyebrows and look up at Chris.

"What ball?" I wonder, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Oh," Chris hesitates. "Lydia invited me to a-"

Noticing he's struggling to speak, Lydia speaks up to explain.

"Oh, it's just a ball that my late husband's organization throws every year. I would've asked you to come but Chris told me what happened the last time you two went to a ball, and— never mind. Bebe, come now." Lydia's voice trails off as my eye contact grows more intense.

Bebe comes running, listening to the sound of her voice, and guides Lydia outside.

"Bye now." Lydia utters, showing herself out.

The doors clicks and Chris drops his head immediately.

"Wow." I throw my hands up as I turn on my heels to walk away.

"I'm sorry!" He begins to apologize.

I storm to the kitchen and throw all of the sandwiches and the rest of the food into Chris's navy Yeti Tundra 45 hard cooler.

"Baby, you hear me?" Chris intones, standing on my hip.

"Why the fuck did you tell her that and why is she calling me Annie, and why does she feel comfortable inviting you to a ball?"

He pauses to wet his lips and speak sincerely. "I-it just slipped, okay? We've gotten close since I've been working on this project, she's a nice lady, Ann. I started venting one night, and she listened. I shouldn't be telling her anything about our relationship, but she's not that bad, babe, I promise."

"Let me remind you that you also didn't think Cleo or Sabrina were that bad."

"What did I say about bringing Cleo up?" Chris's jaw clenches.

I turn my back to Chris and begin to cry in my hands. I don't know why, I just don't feel good right now. It's like he could be hit in the face with a red flag and I'd still ignore it, thinking he has it under control. Yet, if this were me with some guy, or Jasmine, he'd be yelling at me to not even put myself in these situations - ready to kill someone.

"No... no. Baby?" Chris talks cautiously, squeezing my shoulders. "Are you crying? Don't cry. You know if you cry, it'll make me cry, and— oh, I'm crying." He tries to humor his way out of this, obnoxiously fake-crying.

I elbow Chris in the side and then run upstairs, trying to lock him out of the bedroom but he's too strong and pushes his way inside.

"Leave me alone," I sniffle. "I hate you."

"No you don't." He says, walking over to me at the bed.

Chris half-kneels between my legs and kisses the back of my hand.

His green eyes meet mine and he doesn't blink until I do. "I'm sorry, Morgan..." he says.

I rip my eyes away from my fiancé's and wipe the tears from my cheeks.

"Just forget it." I growl, pushing Chris out of my face.

"Tell me you love me." He grins, pinning me down on the bed.

"Get off of me!" I squeal, trying not to look at him because I know he'll make me smile and cave in.

"Tell me!" Chris demands, yelling louder. "Or I'll make you eat a booger."

"Chris, I swear to God, if you—"

He uses his knees to keep my arms in place and picks up my nose with his finger, going in a helicopter motion before he puts his finger to my lips but I bite him.

"Ow! Fuck, Morgan." He winces, letting me go.

"Asshole!" I scream, hitting Chris with a pillow. "That is not normal. Bad, bad, bad. No!" I talk to him like he's a dog because that was animalistic behavior right there.

Chris laughs, throwing his arms up. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry."

I laugh finally, hitting him in the head one more time before calling a truce.

"I love you. So much." I let out, sitting on Chris's lap.

He stroked my hair and looks me deeply in the eyes. "I love you more than that. And I really am sorry, girl."

"I know. I just... I don't want this to be like any of the last times. If you like this lady, though, maybe I can try to, too."

Chris laughs and I ask him why.

"You said to/too." He cracks up.

I roll my eyes. "Shut up."

Chris puts his hands on my hips and says, "I would kiss you right now but you just ate a booger!"

He pushes me onto the bed and runs out of the bedroom after throwing a pillow at me.

"Ughhhh!" I yell, chasing after him.

"Maybe this is a sign," I tell Chris.

"What's that?" He asks, eyes closed as he lies in my lap, falling asleep while I twist his hair.

I sigh then say, "You're not ready to be around Tate and Jasmine, yet, not on a trip like this."

"He didn't say he was bringing her."

"Well, where is he, it's been an hour?" I complain.

We've been sitting in Chris's truck for the past sixty minutes, waiting for Tate to come and let us in his father's lake house.
The drive was four hours so you can imagine how eager we are to get out of the truck.

I don't even know where we are, but I am slightly terrified? The lake is reminiscent of a swamp with its shallow, green waters. There are signs about not feeding the bears, and this lake house has a huge confederate flag waving outside. I'm getting 'Last House On The Left' vibes.

✕

Chris continues chewing on a straw from his Capri Sun and let's out a groan, angrily sitting up.

Finally, though, we hear a horn beeping.

It's Tate in that goddamn Hummer. I see why Chris hates it so much, it's like "look at me, I have a small dick."

Chris gets out of the drivers seat and stands in front of his Ford pickup, arms folded as his patience has worn thin.

Tate hops out of his Hummer next and runs over to Chris to give him a huge hug.

"Que pasa, brotha?" Tate reminds us all how white he is with his piss poor Spanish speaking.

"Man, what the fuck took you so long?" Chris asks, lazily dapping Tate up.

Tate laughs, "CP time."

"I'm sorry?" Chris is confused as Tate alludes to the passenger door of his Hummer opening.

"Colored people time, man." Tate slaps Chris's arm, thinking he's explaining this to him for the first time but that's not why Chris was dumbfounded.
It's Jasmine. She pops out and waves to me, stumbling as she walks over in a pair of beige-black X-pander Balenciaga sneaker-heels. They are so ugly, I almost can't forgive her for this fashion choice.

"Oh hell no," Chris immediately expresses his frustration. "what's she doing here?"

Jasmine scoffs, removing her Chanel shades. "Hello to you, too, motherfucker."

I smack my lips, irritated already. "Alright, guys. Jasmine, how are you?" I pull her body in for a hug and notice how thin she's getting.

"Hey, Mo, you ready for this weekend? We get to party like old times!" She squeals in my ear.

I smell beer on her, and Tate's musky cologne.

Though I am offended by her outfit, and not happy she and my man are fighting already, I try to stay positive. Hell, I'm just glad to spend time with my sister again.

"Yeah," I say, squeezing her hand. "I missed you."

"Alright, assholes, let's get our bags inside and get this weekend started!" Tate cheers, hyping his friends and Jasmine.

I walk to the backseat of Chris's truck and dig through it for my bags first.

Chris appears by my side, mumbling to himself about how much he already hates Jasmine being here.

"Can you try to be nice?" I ask him.

He gives me a straight face that says "no."

I rub his arm and pout. "For me?"

"I don't even know why she's here." He sucks his teeth, helping me with my bags. "So much for a business trip."

"Hey," I coo, putting my hand on his chest for comfort. "just do what you came here to do, and act like she doesn't even exist. I'll keep her busy, okay? You just behave."

Chris deflates his chest that swelled with anger, and nods his head at me.

Once I get a smile out of him, I stand on my tiptoes and peck his lips.

"Come on," I tell Chris, dragging him to the steps. "it'll be fun."

"Yeah," Jake teases Chris, wrapping his arm around him.

"It'll be fun." Ben copies me with a playful nudge.

✕

Dedicated to @lupealmanza thanks for reading! <3