“She’s been pretty clear on how she feels.”
“Has she?” he asked. “Really? Because what I saw was her calling you when she was upset, and then hiding out at your house for the night. I saw her watching you while we were hanging out. She wasn’t saying much, but damn, she was watching.”
“She bailed,” I ground out, shrugging my shoulders in an attempt to hide how much that bothered me. “She doesn’t want to be with me.”
“Or maybe you don’t want to be with her,” Bram countered, shaking his head. “Looks to me like you’re both too fucking stubborn to figure it out.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he lifted his hand in a gesture to be quiet.
“We can play this game all night, but I’m not a fucking woman, and I don’t want to talk about your feelings,” he said bluntly. “What’s that saying? Would you rather be right or be happy? I guess that’s the question. You want to stay here secure in the fact that she left and you’re the injured party, or you want to go and make the first move to fix it? Up to you.”
He walked back into the house, but I stayed outside for a little while, thinking over what he’d said. I’d spent most of my life trying to make sure the people around me were comfortable. At that point, it was so ingrained in my personality that I wasn’t sure I could change it. When Morgan had left, I hadn’t argued. That was what she’d wanted, so I’d let her go. It had made things easier on me, if I was being fully honest with myself. If Morgan was making that decision, then I didn’t have to deal with the guilt that loving her caused me. I didn’t have to worry about my parents’ reaction or how our relationship would look to everyone else.
As time passed, though, I realized what a cop-out my “letting her go” excuse was. There was a difference between being overbearing and showing someone that you cared about them. I’d been so concerned about the former that I was beginning to think I’d neglected the latter.
When my dad poked his head out the door to let me know dinner was ready, I turned and walked into the house still mulling things over.
“We should start having dinner at your house again,” my mom told my aunt as we dug into our food. “I know you were trying to make things easier on me for a while, but we’re cramped around this table.”
“Fine with me,” Aunt Liz replied, grinning. “I think Kate’s bringing the kids up soon and we’ll need the extra space.”
“Oh yeah?” My mom smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “That’ll be nice. Shane hasn’t said a word about it.”
“I think they just decided today,” Aunt Liz said. “I’m sure he’ll call you tonight.”
“Probably.”
Ani elbowed me in the side. “If Shane even knows it’s happening,” she mumbled to me under her breath. “The last I heard, he was training most of the month, so I doubt he’ll come.”
“It’s nice that Katie’s so good about bringing the kids for visits,” my mom said. “And that she lets you see the kids when she’s here.” She popped a piece of food into her mouth with a roll of her eyes, and the muscles in my back and neck instantly tightened as I waited to see where she was going with her comments.
“Why wouldn’t she?” Aunt Liz asked.
“Exactly,” my mom replied. “It seems like, if you were in the neighborhood, you’d at least let your kids visit their grandparents.”
“That was ridiculous,” my aunt said, shaking her head in disgust. “Especially when she was on the property.”
“She has a name,” I said coolly. “It’s Morgan.”
“Trevor,” Ani said quietly, trying to calm me.
“We know Morgan’s name,” Mom replied.
“Well, then why don’t you use it?” I asked, my words a little more clipped.
“What has you all balled up?” Mom asked, scrunching her nose in confusion. “You got to see Henrietta while she was here.”
“Don’t do it,” Ani warned under her breath, tapping her foot against mine under the table.
“It would be a little hard not to see her when she was staying at my house.”
“Yeah, what was that about?” Aunt Liz asked.
“Not our business, Lizzie,” my uncle Dan said in an undertone as he reached out to press his hand over my aunt’s on the table.
“What’s not your business?” my mom asked, looking around the table. “What am I missing here?”
She looked at my dad, but he didn’t say a word.
“What?” she finally asked me directly. “Is this about whatever is going on with you two?”
I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. I didn’t even know if there was anything between Morgan and me anymore. I wasn’t about to get into it with my mom over something that may or may not even happen.