Page 41 of Any Girl But You
Morgan’s not asking. Of course this isn’t about the farm. I know this, she knows this, but I don’t know if I’m ready to say anything. I lift my head and swipe the back of my hand under my chin to catch them. When I catch my breath, I lean back on the stool.
Morgan dunks the tea bag a few more times, then sets it in a discard bowl. “When your sister came back here last year, she threw my world upside down.” She taps her ring on the edge of the mug. “I thought I knew my path. My purpose. I was so focused on saving my company, and being strong, and never falling apart, and hiding my feelings. My God, did I hide my feelings from Frankie. Foryears.”
Their situation differs from mine. They couldn’t have been as scared as me. Morgan and Frankie share a past. They knew each other, and what love and deep feelings feel like. All of this is so new to me—the feelings, the yearning, the sensation of my heart always on the verge of splitting and nothing has even happened yet. Everything is new and terrifying and exciting, and I don’t know what to do.
“Quinn,” Morgan says and meets my gaze. “I almost let Frankie go. I was so close, I practically pushed her out of here.But my God, I’m so glad that we fought for each other. Fought for our right to be happy, together.”
The warm tea slides down my throat and soothes my belly. “But weren’t you scared?”
“Are you kidding me? I wasterrified.” Morgan slides back on her stool. “I’d already experienced heartbreak with Frankie. True, gut-level heartbreak. The kind that makes you timid and tense and makes you question everything, makes you question if it’s worth ever trying anything again because the pain was so raw, and real, and you’re not sure you can go through it again.”
My chin trembles again, and I quickly sip the tea. This is what I’m talking about. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to put myself through that. What if I’m terrible at relationships and clam up and don’t know how to act and destroy everything. Losing her friendship feels as gut-wrenching as not telling her how I feel. “I don’t know what to do.”
“It’s Zoey, right?” Morgan asks.
I arch my brow.
“Sorry. Of course.” Morgan crosses her arms and takes a breath. “Well, you obviously have feelings for her. And from everything I see, she does, too. She practically lights up like the star on a Christmas tree every time you walk in the room.”
My chest lifts. “She does?”
“Do you not see that? I mean, I’ve known Zoey for at least a decade, and even though we aren’t like close friends or anything, I’ve certainly worked with her enough over the years to get insight into her personality. Her baseline is always friendly, always nice, always giving. But with you, everything is elevated—her smile, her laugh, her mood.Everything. It’s clear you amplify her happiness.”
Tea or not, my insides warm at this. Morgan is not the type of woman to blow smoke up my ass to make me feel better. If she is saying this about Zoey, she must mean it. But tomorrow, aftershe sees Josie, everything might change. And I’m totally helpless to stop it from happening. In fact, I need it to happen. I need Zoey to compare, contrast, and do a full cost-benefit analysis on her ex-girlfriend before I say anything.IfI say anything. “She’s meeting her ex-girlfriend for dinner tomorrow,” I choke out.
Morgan’s lips pull together. “Josie? Huh. I didn’t know she was back in town.”
I nod and stare at my mug. “What’s she like?”
Too long of a pause follows. I picked the worst time to hold my breath while waiting for a response.
“I mean, she’s a nice woman,” Morgan finally says. “I only knew her through town and a few events that we attended. Oh, and I chatted with her once at the animal shelter, when I went with my brother to bring in their hamster—don’t ask. But, yes, she’s a nice person.”
This is not making me feel better. I want to hear that Josie is terrible and evil and rides a broom at night. Not that she’s some sweet woman who works with sick animals.
“But, Quinn.” Morgan sets her hand on top of mine. “So are you.”
I let out a short chortle. “I’m not really that nice.”
“Are you kidding?” Morgan’s voice rises enough where my head snaps up. “You are one of the most loving, giving, gracious people I know. When you find your people, you love them so hard, with all of yourself. You are smart and brave and funny and hard-working. You are absolutely the real deal.” She sits back and gives me a stern look. “And I won’t hear you say another bad word about yourself.”
I rest my head on her shoulder and sigh. “You’re a pretty good sister when Frankie abandons me.”
She laughs. “You know she’ll be back on Wednesday, right?”
So maybe I do deserve someone. I’ve always loved my lifestyle, wanted my lifestyle. But since meeting Zoey, I see that Imight want something more. My eyes are opening, just a tiny bit, to the possibility that my dating style thus far might have also been a means of protection.
“Listen,” Morgan says, cutting through my thoughts. “You are a fighter. Always have been. If you have feelings for Zoey, you go fight for her. Take a chance, tell her how you feel, put yourself out there, okay? Fight for her. But also know your worth.”
I reach over and give her a hug. A firm, solid hug, then withdraw. “Thank you.” I’ve used up all my words for now. I need to get out of this kitchen and get some clarity. I grab my mug and march to my bedroom. Inside my room, I pace, and think. Pace and think.
And then I clean. I spend the rest of the day, until the early hours, unpacking everything, organizing, throwing laundry in the wash, hanging everything up, until my room is damn near glistening.
The cleaner the room, the clearer everything becomes. My mind opens, my body shifts, my chest lifts.
I know exactly what I need to do. I just have to put a few plans together first.
TWENTY-ONE
