𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙣
⊱ ─────────── ⊰

I've spent the day moving money around in our accounts just to assure it'll still be there. With all of this debt Malcolm has, I don't want it affecting my funds or our lifestyle.
I just can't believe that of all people, he owes Tate's father.

It's ridiculous actually, I knew there was something shady about Tate. Fuck's sake, what do these people want? I find it hard to believe this is all over money. If it is, though, it's true what they say: that it's the root of all evil.

The choice to fake a breakup wasn't an easy one, but I'm almost out of options here, and Chris's only idea is to strangle everyone involved, take their money, and burn everything to the ground. Yeah, my fiancé is pretty radical.

Anyway, the thought hit me because when Chris and I were separated, Ben and Tate both swooped on to make their moves. Their so-called loyalty went out of the window, and Ben ended up cracking. Well, he was close to cracking. All he left me with was to be careful. I still don't know what that means but I figure if I'm "single" he'll show or tell me exactly what I need to know. Knowing how sleazy Tate is, I can easily sway him to giving up some information.
Only, I have to go about this the right way. If I'm correct in thinking this is about more than money— and they do want me— then I have to be careful.

I think back to the way Malcolm used to treat me. Slamming my hand in the laptop, pushing me down the stairs, making me go days without eating and then when I refused to eat, he'd force-feed me.
I recall Sage, one of his henchmen, choking me, holding me at gunpoint, obeying every one of Malcolm's pain-inflicting commands.
And Beck, who had me chained in some underground bunker, half-naked and close to freezing to death.

Never again, I promise myself.

✕

After readying myself for the day in a black two piece short-sleeved/leggings athlesiure set, I put the dogs into their designated bedroom where they'll be comfortable since I'll be gone for a few hours at least.

As I near the door, I check my purse for my essentials.

Keys, cards, lip gloss, ID, pocketknife and taser? Check.

Opening the door, I'm shocked to see Lydia standing on the other side with her fist raised to knock.

A gasp passes my lips.

She clutches her pearls as if I'm the one who scared her.

"Morgan," she breathes out, "I didn't expect to see you."

"At my house?" I question her, annoyance lacing my tone already.

"I meant at all." She grouses, looking me up and down.

"You're wearing clothes today." She hums.

I push her out of the way with my hip and lock the front door, tuning her out.

Walking down the driveway, I say, "I'm not doing this with you."

"Good, I don't have the energy either. Where's Christopher, I must talk to him?"

I scoff. "He's busy."

"With work, that's exactly what I need to discuss?"

"Then why don't you call him, lady?"

She seems taken aback at my blunt response.

I move towards my Lexus and take a moment to appreciate it before selling her.
While I don't want to splurge, I need a new car. My Lexus has done me good and it's so cute, but I've been wanting an SUV. You know, in case our family expands anytime soon.
Anyway, I've already bought the new car, I just have to go trade mine in.

Lydia's grating voice brings me out of my thoughts.

"—I don't know why I even bothered asking you for help, you're useless."

"Excuse me," I argue, "did I not just save your life?!"

She snarls. "You hardly did anything, and I don't need to be saved, I practically have one foot in the grave already."

"What?" My tone softens.

Lydia puts her hand to her forehead and sighs. "Please forget I said that and don't do that thing where you pry."

"What do you mean one foot's already in the grave?" I ask her.

Lydia looks pained to speak but she doesn't anyway after removing her sunglasses to reveal her sunken eyes.

"I have lung cancer..." she admits to me, not happy about it.

Hand over my heart, I look at her with disbelief.
"Lydia, I'm so sorry! Does Chris know?"

"No, he doesn't," she tells me. "And I'd like it to stay that way."

"Why won't you tell him?"

She shakes her head. "I didn't want to burden anyone with knowing."

"Well now I know."

"And it'll stay that way. Don't tell Chris, please." She fixes her tone to beg.

I shake my head angrily. "Why would I listen to you when all you do is bring me down and take my boyfriend from me?"

"Because you're a good person. I'll give Christopher a call later but it won't be related to this conversation. Do the right thing, Morgan." Lydia's voice trails off as she descends the driveway with Piper on a leash.

"—For the fifth time, Christopher," I huff, "we're not really breaking up."

"It feels like it." He returns, sucking his teeth.

"We want them to think I'm single so they'll try to make a move. The last time me and you were on a break, Tate and Ben made a move quickly." I assure Chris for the last time.

"I don't care if this ends peacefully, remind me to kill both of them."

Fed up, I get back to the task at hand. "Are you there, yet, Chris?"

"Yeah," Chris pauses for a beat, "we're here."

"Be careful, okay?"

"We're just going to talk, see if we find anything, and we'll get out of there. You be safe, too."

"Always," I respond quickly. "Bye."

I don't mean to rush Chris off of the phone, it's just that Ben suddenly approaches.

Looking at the time on my phone, I see that it's 3:30 on the dot.

"You're prompt." I tell Ben as he grows near me.

"I didn't want to disappoint." He humors me already.

He draws close, swinging his lanyard as he walks with some confidence. That's the Ben I first met, the Ben I grew to somewhat like. It looks like he's back to his usual self so I put my guard down but only slightly.

Ben doesn't slow down, walking straight to my chest but I push my hand into his to stop our bodies from connecting.

"What, no hug?" He asks me.

I shake my head no. "I'd hug you but you might get too excited."

Ben laughs. "I almost forgot how funny you are."

"Am I wrong?"

"You're not." He pops his lips, eyeing my car.

Ben changed the subject. "You got a new toy?"

I shrug casually, arms folded over my chest.

Ben walks around my new car and goes "hmm."

"Is that a good 'hmm' or no?" I wonder, trailing him in a circle around the BMW.

"X6 M Competition?" He confirms the model of the car.

I nod surely, thoroughly impressed by his knowledge.

"How about a look inside?" Asks Ben, hand on the top of the midsize coupe SUV.

Unlocking the doors, I poke my head in on the driver's side and Ben mimics me from the passenger seat.

"Nice," he emphasizes, climbing inside.

Ben goes on and on about the specs and telling me the do's and don'ts for this luxury sports car, but I hardly listen.

Finally, he takes a second to breathe.

"Wait," he falters, "why are you showing me this and not your boyfriend?"

"What boyfriend?" I put on an act.

Ben looks at me almost too excitedly but then has his reserves.

"What, you two on a break again? He's not about to come beat me up, is he?"

I giggle, pushing the hair behind my ear. "No, we're done. For good."

"What happened?"

I have to make something up quickly.

This was my idea but I had been wondering which story to go with all day in my head. I was between cheating, wanting to move to different places, and him choosing work over me.

"He, uh, wanted to be there for his son." I sniff, looking down at the black interior.

"And you couldn't take it?" Ben assumes correctly.

Pretending to be too sad to speak, I just nod my head to confirm.

"I'm sorry, Morgan..." Ben sounds so sincere it catches me off guard.

"Why are you sorry?" I ask with a light chuckle.

Ben starts to cry, I can tell although he quickly wipes his eyes.

"Hey," I coo, rubbing his back. "don't cry, it's okay."

"No it's not okay, Morgan, it's not okay!" He bawls.

I watch him have his meltdown, unsure of how to take it.

Something tells me he isn't crying because Chris and I broke up, I think in my head.

"Sorry," he sniffles.

"For what?" I ask him, wary.

"Everything."

His chin lifts and our eyes finally meet.
I swallow hard, starting the car. "Um, yeah, it's okay."

"I should go, I'm sure you think I'm a bitch for crying." Ben tries to laugh at himself, reaching for the door handle.

I grab his hand. This makes him jump, eyes unblinking.

"Did I say I want you to go?" I ask him, fastening my seatbelt once he's settled back in the passenger seat.

Ben chuckles nervously. "I just thought you'd think-"

"I don't think you're a bitch because you cried, you're a bitch if you let me pay for lunch. I'm starving."

He finally allows a real laugh to come out. "I guess I'll pay since you spent all your money on this thing."

"Don't call her a thing, her name is Shego."

"Like from 'Kim Possible?'"

"Exactly," I laugh, stepping on the gas.

Ben sits back, his hand falls on my thigh and I cringe.

"Too soon?" He asks, shyly pulling away.

I curse myself for my reflex, I'm not used to other men touching me.
For the heck of it, though, I allow it.

Ben smirks, putting his seat back.

"Where to?" I wonder, driving down the open road.

With a puff of air, Ben swoons, "Wherever the wind takes us."

I say nothing, only turn up the volume once my phone is connected to the Bluetooth.

Clairo's "Juna" starts to play, prompting me to sing along.

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

I notice Ben staring at the side of my head.

"What?" I snigger, trying to contain my giddy laughter.

"Nothing," he says, grinning.

Shaking my head, I return my full attention to the road and musical stylings of Clairo.

"I got a haircut," Ben announces at random. "you like it?"

I give him a quick glance.

My mouth twists in thought. I pop my shoulders.
"Eh, it's okay." I joke with him.

✕

"—Thanks again." The short, brunette woman pants for breath.

"Don't mention it," Ben says with ease.

He bends down and high-fives the woman's shook up son.

"You gonna be okay, little guy?" Asks Ben.

The eight-year-old nods his head, tears dried up on his pale face.

He's just had a bad fall off of his bike, the mother was on the phone and not paying him any attention. Luckily, Ben and I were in the right place at the right time and Ben sprung into action to help the kid.

"You really should get him a helmet." I offer, wiping the boy's tears.

The woman, in distress, rubs her wrinkled forehead.

"That's what I'm going to do now, he won't get on the bike again without it. Thank you!" She promises, hugging her son tight.

"And maybe it won't hurt to keep an eye on him," adds Ben.

I look up at him, proud he threw that in there because it's what I was thinking, I just didn't want to sound rude and tell her how to parent.

"I know, I know," she sighs.

"Thank you." The kid says to Ben and I.

"Have a good day, you two, thanks a lot." Says the mother, walking away.

Once they're off in the opposite direction, Ben nudges me.

"How about some coffee? Ice cream? You name it, it's on me." He offers.

I just look at him with my eyebrows in a 'v' and arms pretzled over my breasts.

"What, don't tell you you're watching your figure or something? I'm watching it for you, trust me." He flirts, circling my body so that he can look me up and down.

I swat him away, giggling out loud.

"Ben, you're, like, actually a good fucking person." I admit with shock.

He shrugs both shoulders. "Eh."

"No, seriously, that was really nice of you."

He runs his fingers through his mullet and tries hard not to show his teeth.
"You would've done the same thing."

"Yes, but I wouldn't expect you to."

"Well don't get used to it. You know what they say: nice guys finish last."

"That's not always true," I say low, kicking a rock along the trail.

"Then why won't you pick me?" He asks, popping his tongue.

I take a deep breath in and can't bring myself to look Ben in the eyes.

"It's okay, you don't have to answer." Ben says, walking ahead.

"Good, because I don't have an answer."

"It's never going to be me, Morgan, I know that." Ben says, throwing his arms up.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He walks backwards to address me. "It'll be someone like Jake or Tate before you give me a chance."

"I'm with you right now, Ben, I-"

"Yeah because Tate would just fuck you instead of listening to you like a normal person. I hear you, Morgan. I see you."

I stop in the middle of the woods and look at Ben.

He's got me. It could just be the way he does make me feel seen and heard, or maybe it's this stupid ass mullet that he somehow pulls off. I don't know.
Ben's just cute, like the type of guy I'd crush on in high school if he was the upperclassmen jock and I was the freshman or sophomore he would occasionally glance at.
That's how I see it in my head, like he's this cool, popular guy who gets paired up with me in science lab or something corny and after working together I discover there's a lot more to him than his looks or his father's money.

But this story doesn't end with us going to homecoming together or maintaining a long distance relationship when he goes off to college and leaves me behind. No. More like after we get a good grade on the project, we go our separate ways - if I'm lucky, he'd wave to me in the halls but that's it.

"It's not you," he says. "It's me."

Confused, I ask what he means by that.

"I couldn't have you even if I wanted to."

"Why?" I dare ask.

I'm mad at the part of me that really wants to know, the part of me that could see some universe where we could explore this option. No Tate, no Chris. . .

"That's not how it was written." Ben says, swinging a fist into his palm.

"How was it written, then?" I inquire, standing just an inch from Ben's body.

He's warm, heart beating fast. His lips are dry, when he looks at mine he wets them. I watch him swallow, his Adam's apple moving in his neck.

"Like I said: with Tate." Ben reveals.

"I don't want Tate!" I make that very clear.

"That doesn't matter."

"Do you mean I'll end up with someone like Tate?"

"Sure," is Ben's answer.

"What does that mean? What about Chris?"

"I thought you said you two are done for good?"

Shit, that's right. Mental facepalm.

"I did say that... that's right. I-I am done with him." I stammer, trying to convince myself.

Ben laughs, making me ask myself why.

"I was serious, though, I could really go for some ice cream." Says Ben, taking me by the hand.
I force myself to be okay with more physical contact.

Although, it's not that bad. I mean, I guess it's kind of cute— In a weird way, I mean.

"You're blushing." Ben observes, locking our fingers.

"Am not!" I squeal, covering my cheeks.

"You were," he comments, smiling. "That's cute."

"You're cute." I blurt out, tucking the hair behind my ear.

"Awwww!" Ben exclaims, obnoxiously.

He picks me up and spins my body, leaving me laughing freely and holding on tight.

✕

It's late. I can't believe we spent the whole day together, time just escapes me.

I couldn't go home because I didn't want Ben to follow me, I also wasn't sure if Chris is home or not.

So, I've let Ben take me back to his place.

He has a nice apartment, I like it. I figure there's security cameras in the halls and parking garage if anything happens to me. Plus, if Chris gets worried about my whereabouts, he has my location.

10:34pm

I exit the half bathroom and walk back into the living room area where I left Ben on the couch to find a movie for us to watch.

"Did you blow up my bathroom?" He jokes.

I play offended, hitting him with a throw pillow.

"No, I was going through your cabinets." I return with a jab.

Ben chuckles, scooting closer to me.

"Did you find the drugs?"

"Absolutely, I took two."

"I already put one in your drink." He says, handing me a glass.

I look at the glass before putting it to my lips.

What the hell, I think, drinking it anyway.

"Wow, you just let me Bill Cosby you like that?" He makes fun.

I laugh, wiping my lips. "You don't have to drug me to have your way with me, Ben."

I instantly regret saying that, basically an invitation for him to fuck me.

He leans in, hand on my chest.
"You want me to?" He asks softly, eyes closed.

No, I tell myself.

Despite my brain knowing better, I straddle Ben's lap.

What is wrong with me?!

Excitedly, he removes my shirt and then his.

Ben moves towards my lips but I turn my head and he kissed my neck instead.

Bad idea, BAD idea! My weakness.

Feeling a pit in my stomach, I try to wiggle away but Ben thinks I'm grinding on him and pulls my hair.

Oh my God.

I gulp hard, mouth gone dry. I'm speechless.

I have to find a way to get out of this!

Fuck, but why am I turned on?

NO, Morgan! Stop this right now, I internally battle with myself.

"Ben, I can't fuck you because I'm on my period!" I blurt.

He stops and looks at me blankly.

"That's, um, what I was doing in the bathroom - making sure I'm not fishy." I purposely try to gross him out.

I don't think it works.

He grabs both of my breasts in his hands and smiles ear to ear.

"How about some over-the-clothes stuff? A little PG-13?" He teases, sucking on my nipple.

"Oh my God." I exhale.

"Ben I can't do this," I speak up. "Seriously. I'm sorry. I-I should go."

"Wait—"

"No, I'm sorry. You were right, it's too soon. I promise, it's not you, it's me." I talk a mile a minute as I make myself decent and head for the door.

"Morgan, wait!" Ben says, grabbing a towel off of the coffee table.

I remove my hand from the doorknob and let out a deep breath.

Unable to bring myself to look at him, I hang my head as I face the door.

Sniffling, I ask, "What, Ben?"

I feel him behind me. His voice appears in my ear. "I'm sorry for this."

He grabs me forcefully by the arm and then covers my nose and mouth with a rag.

I struggle but not for long—