Page 61 of Love, Morgan

I laughed sadly. “I know it’s going to be hard, but at least we’ll have this. Nothing will ever go badly or wrong, nothing will ever hurt—”

“Because everything hurts.”

“Yeah, I know. But this way, it will always be good, you know? It will always be this incredible week.”

She reached across the table and it took me too long to realize she was reaching for my hand rather than the pineapple. “Sometimes, the best living is done in the bad moments.”

I blinked at the burning in my eyes, mentally pressing at the ball of panic in my chest. My instinct was to push back, to insist that wasn’t true, but I knew it was. My relationship with my dad, my job, this whole thing with Morgan… all of it had come from moments that felt bad or wrong, from living in the negative moments, from experiencing more than just the pretty, tidy little parts of life.

And, deep inside, I knew she was right when it came to romantic relationships, too. I hadn’t had one last nearly long enough to know, but, somehow, I did know. Morgan had been telling me about it this whole week—Ripley and Alicia had gotten divorced, found their way back to each other, and now their relationship was something so magical nothing could ever break it. Life wasn’t all two-week breaks at gorgeous resorts on far-flung islands. Life was about weathering the storm, walking through fire, and loving it anyway. And, if you were lucky, you found someone to join you along the way.

Morgan was going to be one of my people even if she wasn’t there. I had my dad, I had Thalia, I had my fans and fellow YouTubers, and I was going to make more effort with them. Hopefully, Morgan would keep watching, but, whatever happened, she’d still be with me, even if she wasn’t with me.

“Iona,” Thalia said softly. “Are you okay?”

I sniffled. “Yes. Sorry. Just… thinking.”

She smiled sadly. “Yeah, I can see that. I don’t mean to be a party pooper. Whatever happens, you will still have this, but just… think about it, okay? Maybe some things are worth fighting a little harder for.”

Chapter 19

Morgan

“Ah, here for breakfast with your girlfriend?” an overly cheerful, and far too cheeky, voice called to me as I walked into the main building of the hotel.

I turned, scowling at Thalia. She’d sent a badly-wrapped mango in Iona’s name and now she had the audacity to call hermy girlfriend? I didn’t care that part of me thrilled at the idea—no matter how temporary our arrangement was—Thalia was still pushing it.

She laughed. “Relax. I know the deal, but you might as well enjoy it for the time being, no?”

I walked over to the counter she was occupying. “Iona told you.”

“She did.”

“Huh.” I smiled to myself. She was sharing. I could only imagine how many times she’d gotten lost inside her own mind during that conversation, but she’d actually told Thalia about it, and that was huge.

Part of me, a part that really shouldn’t exist, was excited by the idea that she talked about me, that she told her friend about us. Another part of me was simply proud of her for opening up to people. I didn’t want her opening up to Thalia the same way she did to me, exactly, but I wasn’t ignorant of the fact that this was a big deal for Iona, and I was proud of her for that.

“You know it’s weird that you’re just going to walk away from her tomorrow?” Thalia said, leaning towards me over the counter.

I raised my eyebrows at her. She’d been friendly with Iona since she arrived, as far as I could tell, but she and I hadn’t had this type of dynamic. “Are you supposed to talk to guests like that?”

“Are you supposed to let gorgeous women you’re interested in get away?”

I scowled. “It’s not really any of your business. As I’m sure Iona mentioned, we know what we’re doing and we have our reasons.”

“She alluded to that, but, whatever the reasons are, they’re never going to be good enough to justify losing her. I know you know that.”

“I know plenty of things, thank you very much.”

She snorted a laugh. “Fine. I tried.” She tapped at the computer. “If you’re set on doing this, the least you can do is make it special.”

“It’s Iona. It’s already special.”

She looked up at me and, for the first time, I felt myself falter. I didn’t expect her not to go to bat for Iona. She was the one who’d sent me a mango just to get us in the same room together. Of course she was in Iona’s corner, and I was glad of it, but she didn’t know. She wasn’t part of it. But that look.

She pitied me. I was pretty sure that was it. I hated being pitied. I’d made it my business to have a life so good nobody ever pitied me. And here she was, looking at me with those sad, questioning, disbelieving eyes. And part of me knew why. I just didn’t have time for that part.

I huffed. “What did you mean?”

---