Page 24 of Dr. Fellow

“I didn’t have much order in my childhood, so I had to create it for myself.”

She leans forward to rest her chin on her knees. “What happened?”

“My mom overdosed when I was eighteen, and my dad died a few years before that. Had to grow up fast.”

I don’t elaborate further, and she doesn’t ask.

“I’m sorry,” she offers, and even though the words are simple, the sincerity behind them is evident. “That doesn’t sound easy.”

“It wasn’t,” I admit, allowing myself a moment of raw honesty. “But it taught me a lot. About resilience. About self-reliance. About creating the kind of life I want, despite the circumstances I was dealt.”

I don’t know why I’m telling her all of this. I guess I just feel like she’s been vulnerable with me tonight, so I can be too.

Morgan nods thoughtfully, the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the windows and onto her heart-shaped face. “You didn’t have any other family?”

“My grandfather, but I saw him maybe once a year until he died last September.”

“Why?”

“I think it was a boundaries thing,” I explain, recalling the situation as best as I can because it’s not something I’ve thought about in a long time. “He didn’t approve of the life my parents were living, and essentially grouped me in with them, even though I was just a kid. I had come to terms with our relationship until all of his assets, including this house, were transferred to me when he died. He had been sitting on a mountain of cash, which really pissed me off since there were times in high school when I didn’t know where my next meal was coming from because my parents spent the money on drugs and God knows what else.”

She reaches for her mug, her hands gripping the ceramic so tight that her knuckles go white. “I’m sorry but he can rot in hell.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I laugh. “I feel the same way.”

Morgan reminds me a lot of Beau with the way that she defends me, blindly giving me her unearned loyalty. I’ve never had anyone like that in my life until recently, and it makes me feel at ease in a way that I didn’t know I needed.

Her lips purse as she studies me. “You don’t look like you do.”

“Did you not just tell me how good I was at control? Comes from years of practice. Plus, not all of us have the most expressive faces in the world.”

“Do not.” Her brows furrow argumentatively.

“Do too.”

She tries to school her face into indifference, though her eyes still shine with her signature fire. “What am I thinking right now?”

“Hmmm,” I murmur, pretending to be stumped by her question. “You’re thinking that you like me a little more.”

I have no idea if my statement is true, but I’m hoping that it is.

Her expression softens as a genuine smile breaks through. “I can neither confirm, nor deny that accusation,” she says, placing her mug on the table. “But I am glad that you told me.”

“Me too.”

Morgan makes a dramatic yawning sound as she stretches her arms up in the air. “I’m beat. Probably should get going since I’ve got to work at the ass-crack of dawn.”

I feel my lips tilt to the floor, unable to help my disappointment. “No problem.”

As I watch her put on her thin sweatshirt and tennis shoes, I’m struck by the sudden urge to stop her. To tell her that I want her to stay, though I can’t really explain why.

By the time her hand is on the door to leave, I still haven’t come up with a good reason to stop her from leaving.

“Thanks again for tonight,” she says quietly. Her mouth opens and closes, like she wants to add more but stops herself. It strikes me as odd because she isn’t the kind of person that holds back what she feels. After a moment she adds, “Fingers crossed I make it back in one piece. On my way over earlier, I slipped on some ice and practically surfed down the sidewalk.”

A mix of emotions that I have no business feeling begin to run through me. The thought of her going out there this late makes my chest burn with discomfort because I suddenly feel incredibly protective of her. I want her to be safe, but I also surprisingly want to spend more time with her—I shouldn’t, but I do.

I feel myself letting out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. “Stay.”

---