Page 95 of Spindrift

“Fuckyou,” Morgan said without heat. Her abs ached and her entire body felt likeshe’d gone to one of Angie’s CrossFit sessions. She grinned despite herself.

“I’mhappy for you,” said Lillian.

“I’mgenuinely impressed.” Angie grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and peeled itsuggestively. “You two went late. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Thisis a conversation I am not having,” said Morgan.

“Andyet,” Stevie leapt onto her back like a monkey and rested her cheek againstMorgan’s, “here we all are. Having it.”

“Canyou get off me?”

“Ican if you say the magic word.”

“Pleaseget off me.”

“Incorrect.‘Please,’” Stevie said in an unnervingly accurate portrayal of a woman about toorgasm.

“Iwill kill you and feed your body to the nearest pigs.”

Stevieslid off her, slammed her ball cap on her head, and smirked. “Ready to hit theroad?”

Chapter Thirteen

The nextweek passed in agonizing slowness. Emilia didn’t see Morgan, though they textedconstantly, as a string of emergencies kept Morgan on the road, forcing her tocancel their plans. She tried not to feel like this was the end of all thingsand distracted herself with a visit home for an in-person session with Shanti.

“Howare you feeling?” Shanti asked.

Emiliadid not mention Morgan. Instead, she told Shanti about the doubts that stillshadowed her every step and the ache in her chest where her father’s love hadlived, and Shanti nodded, sympathetic, no doubt assessing her for risk.

“Idon’t want to die anymore,” she said at the end of their session.

“Good.What changed?”

Everything.Nothing.

“Honestly?I think it was the meds.”

Itwasn’t a lie. It also wasn’t the entire truth. It was Seal Cove and her newfriends and the water and Morgan, too much Morgan, and people were fragilethings to pin a life on.

Shantistudied her but did not interrogate her answer.

I’mhere,she wantedto say.I’m here, seeing you, instead of throwing myself at Morgan’s feet.Doesn’t that count for something?

Whythen could she not bring herself to tell Shanti about Morgan? She met hertherapist’s gentle brown eyes and wondered when the shadow of the irrevocablemistake she’d nearly made would dissipate. Would it ever? Or would the peoplewho cared about her always carry worry with them behind their smiles?

“Youseem brighter,” said Shanti as she stood up to leave. “I am proud of you.”

“Forwhat?”

Shantiheld the door open, her dark curls catching the soft light of her office, A fewstrands of gray gleamed.

“Everyday is a choice. I am glad you keep making it.”

Shenodded, mute, and ducked out before tears overwhelmed her.

Everyday is a choice.

Oneday at a time.

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