Chapter 20
Morgan
“It was a pulmonary embolism.”
“What’s that?” asks Elizabeth.
I take another sip of beer. Elizabeth and I are sitting in our room drinking and talking. There are only a handful of people in the house since break technically doesn’t end until tomorrow.
Jen and Rebecca are spending the break with their new boyfriends. I feel a pang in my chest, imagining spending the week at The Gorge with Nate instead of in a Planters Grove nightmare.
“Alex must have developed a blood clot sometime after the surgery. It travelled to his lungs and that’s why he collapsed. He could have died.”
“Geez. I bet that was so scary.”
“Yup.”
“You okay?”
“Yup.”
Elizabeth swats my leg. “Liar.”
I down what’s left in my bottle, belch, and say, “Yup.”
“Did you ever discuss the proposal?”
“Technically, he never asked. And no, I never brought it up. Neither did he, but he was on a morphine drip in the ICU most of the week, high as kite. It’s not like we had a chance to have a serious conversation. So once again, I left without dissuading him of any notion that we will end up together forever. Which is appalling because I don’t even feel like we’re together now.”
Elizabeth scrunches her face. “Uh, I think you do feel like that. That’s why you won’t make-out with Nate-Dog anymore, even though you really want to.”
“Excuse me for following a moral compass.”
“Hey, I’m not judging. I’m just worried about you. This situation is taking a huge toll.”
She’s right. It is. I about had a panic attack when they loaded Alex in the ambulance. His parents took off in their car, without so much as a word or glance in my direction. Agnes hates me right now.
I called my mom and she and Dad came immediately. They drove me to the hospital. When we walked in, Agnes was loaded for bear and I commend Mom for holding her tongue.
She knew Agnes was terrified Alex was going to die. Fear makes people say and do crazy things.
Doesn’t mean I didn’t flip her off in my mind. And once behind her back, but that doesn’t really count. Fucking karma.
“Have you called Nate?”
“No. He said his cell wouldn’t work at The Gorge. I’ll just have to address it with him tomorrow.”
Elizabeth reaches over and pats my leg. “I’m sorry, babe.”
I put my hand over hers and squeeze.
“Me, too.”
***
Nate
When we arrive back at campus, I feel recharged and ready to finish up the semester. I texted Morgan and told her when I would get back, so I’m not surprised when I walk into my room and she’s sitting on the couch.
I’ve thought a lot about this moment, when I would see her, after she disentangled herself from the mess in Planters Grove. Not once did my thoughts show me the face she’s wearing now. She doesn’t even have to say it. The worried look she gives me says it all.
Wordlessly, I set my bags down in the corner and turn to look at her. Her small smile isn’t real. It’s forced. I cross my arms and wait.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi.”
“Do you wanna sit?” she asks.
I try not to smile, but she’s offering me a seat in my own room. “Nah, I’m good.”
Morgan bobs her head a couple of times and her hands fidget in her lap. It’s her tell.
“Why don’t you go ahead and get it off your chest, Morgan.”
Her wide eyes meet mine. Jesus. She’s terrified. I don’t want this for her.
“What’s wrong?” I soften my voice, trying to communicate that she doesn’t need to be afraid to share with me.
“Everything,” she whispers.
It about breaks me. Damnit. I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.
“You didn’t break it off, did you?”
“I couldn’t.”
I know my face is hard. I don’t bother controlling the expression I’m donning. I’ll have to make this an easy decision for her.
“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?”
Morgan flinches. “It’s not like that. It … he almost died.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“No, I mean over break. I went to see him. He looked so much better. I was going to bring it up and then he pulled a ring out of his pocket—”
“An engagement ring?” I practically shout, eyes darting to her hand. No ring.
The panic abates. Any hint of a sparkle on that finger and I would have lost my freaking mind.
I did not see this coming—and I see everything. Anger and jealously swirl around in my abdomen, forming a toxic mixture. I do my best to keep it from bubbling out of my mouth.
“Yes, but he never got around to asking.”
Morgan gets up and starts pacing, flailing her hands in the air as she speaks. “He started coughing up blood. He fainted. I had to call 911. His parents—oh, his poor parents—they came running in from the stables when they saw the ambulance.”
She stops and pinches the bridge of her nose.
“What caused it?” I ask.
“Blood clot. It broke loose and went to his lung. It could have killed him. He was rushed into emergency surgery. He was doped up and miserable the rest of the week. I tried to talk to him but he never sounded sober. I left before he was released.”
“Jesus, Morgan.” I scrub my face, as if it will erase what I’m hearing. “That is so fucked up.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“At this rate, you’ll be married to him by summer.”
She gasps. “No, don’t make jokes like that, Nate.”
“It wasn’t a joke.”
Her sad face turns angry. Of the two emotions, I prefer to keep her angry. I don’t think I can handle her crying.
“Seriously? What was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know, Morgan. But don’t you think leaving Planters Grove without setting Alex straight gives him false hope? Every time you do it?”
Her jaw drops. “You—you said you understood.”
“I do understand. More than you realize. But I don’t have to like it.”
Morgan steps towards me. I want to meet her halfway but I stay rooted in my spot.
“You don’t know what it was like,” she sniffles. “His mother told me it was my fault. That I did this to him. That I almost killed her child! She screamed it at me while he was on a table, fighting for his life. Screamed that his death would be on me. How am I supposed to live with that?”
If I ever meet this family, I’m taking them to task. Alex was a victim of his own body. Morgan didn’t do anything to cause it. The timing was terrible, but not her fault.
“You tell her to fuck off. You didn’t do this, Morgan. You’ve been walking on egg shells, trying to placate them since August. It’s tearing you up inside. You can’t keep doing it. You’re a good person, trying to do a good thing and not make Alex’s life any harder than it already is. But it’s costing you your own happiness. You are not responsible for his well-being.”
Tears start streaming down her face. She’s held it together better than I thought she would. She’s stronger than she realizes. I’m counting on her strength.
“Let me give you an analogy. It’s like this: you’re caught in a current in the middle of a river. I’m on one shore and all the bullshit with Alex and his family is on the other. You’re not going to make it across to me, Morgan.”
“Why not?” she sobs.
The dam is finally breaking and it hurts to watch. I might prefer a swift kick in the nuts over watching her tears fall.
“Because you haven’t let go of the rope. I understand why. If you let go, you’ll drown. Your guilt will pull you under.”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“I’m saying,” I look up to the ceiling, gathering strength. “I’m saying you need to swim back to the other side.”
She gasps. “You want me to be with Alex?”
“No. I want you to deal with the situation however you need to deal with it so that you don’t continue to carry this weight around. Do whatever you need to do so you can live with yourself. If you feel like you need to wait until Alex can handle the truth, because you can’t deal with the fallout or if something else goes wrong with his health, then that’s what you need to do. If you want to be his support system right now so you can feel like you did the right thing, then do it.”
“What—what about you?”
“Forget about me. Don’t try to come across the river, Morgan. Don’t even look over it. As much as it pains me to say it, you’re not ready to cross. Staying in the middle, feeling like you’re caught in the middle, is hurting you. It’s having a drastically negative effect on your life. I refuse to let that continue. So, I’m taking myself out of the equation.”
Morgan takes several shuddering breathes, like she’s trying to not break down. This is the hardest conversation I’ve ever had.
“Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah. I understand,” she murmurs, as her shoulders slump forward. I want to hold her against me, to comfort her, but I don’t. It will only make it harder for her to leave if I touch her.
“I, uh, I think I should go now.”
I nod and she walks out the door. I sag against my desk, recalculating the risk I just took, unconvinced she understands the message I was conveying.