Page 28 of Love, Morgan

We chatted most days now and it was nice. Not friends, but friendly acquaintances, and that was honestly lovely to have. It was almost a lesson in knowing how to make friends as adults, in knowing that I could. And that was nice.

“Every day,” she went on, “you get up, walk out of your bungalow, stare longingly at hers, and spend the entire time at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, craning your neck looking for her.”

“I could be looking for someone else.” I wasn’t sure why I was even bothering to protest, but minds were ridiculous like that sometimes.

“Who else could you possibly be looking for? Who else have you got this whole…energygoing with? Who else bought you a gift certificate for the spa? It’s definitely Ms. Franklin.”

“I don’t havean energy.”

Thalia laughed. “Oh, my apologies. You’re not running around looking like a skittish cat, and whipping your head around like a ballerina?”

“I never even took ballet.”

Was that relevant? I didn’t think so. My whole brain was just in denial mode, and, since I couldn’t truthfully deny looking for Morgan, it was latching onto the things I could.

She walked with me towards the familiar breakfast restaurant I favored. Morgan was never here, I didn’t know why I kept looking, but, even with Thalia watching me accusingly, my eyes still darted around the place, just in case. Just… hoping.

Thalia gripped my elbow lightly, holding us up right before I grabbed a tray. “Do you see the two in black chef’s jackets down by the eggs?”

I looked down the line and, sure enough, there were two members of staff in black chef’s jackets, smiling and working close together. “Yes?”

“Pay attention to them as we pass by, okay?”

“What? Thalia, why?”

She started walking again, grinning back at me. “Just trust me. Come on, before they run out of that mango you love.”

I turned around, looking at the lack of crowd racing for the, admittedly amazing, mango. After a second, though, filled with curiosity, I followed after her.

When we reached the two she’d pointed out, they barely seemed to notice we were there. I’d assumed their smiles were the permanently affixed ones most of the staff here had—most of them seemed genuine, and they seemed to be having a great day every day, but I wasn’t naive enough to assume it wasn’t part of their contract. These two, however, were different.

Their eyes found each other over and over again, the smile morphing slightly each time, their complexions coloring, their heads ducking slightly, and their breathing hitching. It didn’t take long to realize the rest of us didn’t exist to them. They were more in their own world than some of the honeymooning couples I’d seen over the past week.

“Ugh,” Thalia sighed exaggeratedly. “You two should just go on a date and spare the rest of us.”

Her smile told me she was joking, and simply wanted them to stop pining and get together, but her words had the desired effect.

The two jolted, looking up towards us, and their expressions transformed from besotted to alarmed. They were so in sync that, if I didn’t know better, I’d think they were already married.

“What?” one of them squeaked—Hai’ai, according to the name on his badge. “We’re not…”

“Yeah, give it up, Thalia. And be professional. There are guests,” the other one, Bo, said. They gestured in my direction with their head, but the inability to hold either of our gazes told me they were just as embarrassed as Hai’ai was.

“Don’t worry,” Thalia said, waving them off. “She’s just as useless as you two are.”

“There’s not—there’s nothing… We’re not useless. I…” Bo faltered as Hai’ai blushed and ducked his head further.

Thalia laughed. “Sure, thing, Bo. Keep telling yourself that. Have a lovely day.”

I stared in awe as she grinned, waved them off, gestured me on, and started walking again, heading straight for the table that I’d come to think of as mine over the last week. It wasn’t, of course, but it was where I always sat. And not just because it had a good view of the place to catch people entering and exiting…

I sat down, gesturing subtly back towards the kitchen. “They’re probably mortified now, you know?”

“Maybe they should be,” she said, grinning and reaching to steal a piece of pineapple from my plate. “They’ve been dragging that nonsense on for years now. For everyone’s sake, they need to sort themselves out and get together.”

“Maybe they don’t want to.”

She snorted. “So you’re not just ignorant when it comes to your own love life?”

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