Page 68 of Love, Morgan

She smiled, nodding towards my door. “I think that’s for you.”

On the doormat sat a perfectly wrapped box. A pink ribbon tied in a perfect bow. I couldn’t imagine where she’d even gotten it from, though it would be very Morgan to have traveled with an inexplicable pink ribbon, just in case.

My heart pounded, my throat tight, as I picked it up and let us both into my bungalow. The absence of Morgan felt like the walls had been cut away and lost in the ocean.

Thalia dropped into one of the chairs and I could feel her eyes on me, but I couldn’t look away from the gift. It was perfect.

“Open it, then,” she eventually called when I simply stood staring at it.

I sighed, set it down, and pulled on the soft pink ribbon.

Inside the box, perfectly arranged on a bed of shredded paper, was a jewelry box. I caressed the soft top before picking it up.

Thalia came up behind me, eager to see what it was. I didn’t mind. In my head, it was almost like she wasn’t there. This moment was just me and Morgan, even in her absence.

I opened the lid.

A perfect, tiny mango, cast in gold, sat on green velvet, attached to a delicate gold chain.

I sobbed and laughed. How had she even gotten that so quickly? How had she even thought of it? Since the mango had arrived at her door, we’d barely spent any time apart. But then, since when did Morgan need an explanation for anything? She was magic.

“Oh my god. Of course,” Thalia whispered, her voice filled with awe.

I looked down at the larger box again. Beneath where the jewelry box had been sitting was a card, in Morgan’s handwriting.

I sobbed as I took in the words and the fact that I knew her handwriting like it was my own, already. No wonder she’d known it wasn’t me who sent her that mango. I’d know her from a single word, just as she knew exactly the question that had been bouncing around my head for days.

I’ll be watching, always.

Love, Morgan

Chapter 21

Morgan

Jackson Point was gray, and cold, and empty. My home was gray, and cold, and empty.

I stomped over to the thermostat, cursing Ripley for not coming in to turn it on for me, only to find out that she had. Either it had stopped working, or the cold was inside me. Probably the latter. I had just returned from a fabulous two-week vacation on a tropical island.

And it was nothing to do with Iona—or the lack thereof.

I dumped my stuff, grabbed a winter coat, and headed for the door. I couldn’t stay here all alone.

The streets felt wrong, unfamiliar. I hated the missing sense of coming home that usually hit me when I got back from a vacation. They were great, but so was coming back to my own space, my own bed, the town where everyone knew who I was. I couldn’t believe Iona had broken me and taken that away. Unbelievable.

I turned towards Ripley’s store, trying hard not to think about Iona—her flight, her home, how she was doing, the fact that I’d fallen asleep sobbing over one of her videos on the plane, much to the dismay of the person in the seat next to me. I wasn’t a person who cried on planes. But, when I was, what difference did it make to the people around me? They didn’t know, they didn’t get it. If they did, they’d have understood. They’d have been crying too. Crying for a woman they’d never met. Crying because they’d never met her. As they should.

Petal and Pebble came into view and, somehow, that was the worst sign of all that it was really over. I was back. Iona was gone. And the last two weeks had basically never happened. A momentary blip in time, where life stood still and wonderful things happened.

And now I was back, walking through puddles and not even caring that the water was soaking through my shoes and into my socks.

The door jingled and stepping into the warm, softly lit store yanked at my chest unpleasantly. I was just tired. It had been a long trip back. I needed to pull myself together.

Ripley stepped out from the back of the store, calling out as she approached. “Welcome to Petal an—Morgan? You’re back?”

I attempted to smile but I knew it came out more as a grimace than anything else. “Back and in the flesh. Now. Tell me you missed me.”

She looked at me, seeing through every little bit of bravado I’d managed to muster. Her shock became a sad smile as she marched over, pulling me into a hug.

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