Page 51 of Love, Morgan

“Yes, well, you’re far better people than they ever were,” I sniffed, holding my chin high.

“So are you. And so is Iona. I don’t need to meet her to know that.”

“But what if she wants…”

I couldn’t even finish the thought. I liked her. Being around her felt good. But I couldn’t give her so many things that many people wanted from their lives. I loved Harlow and Briar, but I didn’t want that for myself. I’d spent too many hours parenting already. I’d built a life on not doing it again.

“You’ll never know if you don’t ask. And, even if she does want that, not every relationship has to be forever. As you pointed out, you don’t live in the same place. If you’re both interested, maybe you can have something that’s just for now. I’m not saying it won’t hurt a little in the end, but at least you’ll have the memories. It’s not like this kind of thing happens to you often, Morgan. I think you at least deserve to ask for what you want and figure out an answer.”

“Hm. I wish you were wrong, but I do hate an unanswered question.”

“I know.”

Sometimes, how well Ripley knew me could be inconvenient, but sometimes, it was nice to be known. Maybe I wouldn’t hate every part of being with someone. Maybe part of me wanted to be known. But I needed it to be on clear terms, ones that made sense for me, ones that didn’t run the risk of me turning back into someone who got taken advantage of by those who claimed to love me.

“You know this might all be a moot point,” I said in a transparent attempt to escape from thoughts of my family. “Iona ran off. I might have already blown it.”

“Morgan, it’s you. I’m certain she’ll be back around soon.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m amazing.”

She laughed softly. “I know you’re just saying that to sound brave, but I know you’re actually brave too. Who you are is amazing. Your family sucked, but you don’t owe them, or anyone else, anything. You can ask for what you want, on terms that work for you. And, either way, I’m sure Iona will be polite, understanding, and grateful you told her how you were feeling.”

“Are you grateful I told you?” I asked, petulant.

“I am,” Ripley replied, sincerity burning in her voice. She knew I was being difficult because I was embarrassed and ashamed. She knew me and she was still here. “I’m always glad to see who you really are, Morgan. And Iona will be too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, feeling more emotional than I should have over a conversation with my best friend. “I’m amazing, you’re lucky to know me, we all know this.”

“I am,” she replied, her smile audible.

I breathed against the swirl of emotions in my body. I really hated things that brought my family up. It was weird that something as good as Iona could be connected to them in any way, shape, or form, but emotions were like that, unfortunately. At least I wasn’t alone in it this time.

“Hey, Ripley?” I said, more cautious than usual.

“Yes, Morgan?”

“I’m lucky to know you too.”

“I want that carved into a plaque I can hang up in the shop.”

I groaned. “Don’t be a dick about it.”

She laughed. “Love you, Morgan.”

“I love you too, loser.”

A knock sounded from the door and I got up assuming it was the absolutely majestic cleaning crew.

“So, you’ll talk to Iona about it?” Ripley asked, cautious and hopeful.

“We’ll see. I mean, she has to reappear first for me to do that. For all I know, she fell in the ocean.”

“Yes, a very likely turn of events.”

“You don’t know. You’re not here.” I rolled my eyes and opened the door. “Oh.”

“Hey,” Iona said, cautiously, looking at me with her cheeks flushed and something obviously on her mind.

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