It is just after ten when the kids fall asleep, so I shower, climbing straight into bed afterward.
Grabbing my cell off the nightstand, I search ancient spells with nothing, while racking my brain in an attempt to figure out what happened that night. I tried to ask Morgan today, but we rarely spoke. She was constantly busy with her entourage, and I was her monkey running her errands.
The only thing that struck a chord is conversation we had just before I left.
“I forgot to ask if you are okay, you know, after last night?” Morgan’s typing on her cell, lifting her head for just a moment while waiting for my response.
“Last night?” I questioned, confused.
“You called me, upset. You had a big fight with Noah about the divorce papers again. You told me that in your couples’ counseling yesterday he admitted that he wished you were different, and you took offense to that.”
“Different as in how?”
“I don’t know, I couldn’t understand you in between all the crying. Different as he wanted you to compromise and slow down working, be more present with the kids, and he would do the same.”
“Slow down? The guy is gone all day for work while I get stuck with everything,” I complained.
“Do you still love him?”
I nodded, unsure of what else to say.
This was one hell of a fucked-up situation.
“Then make it work. You’re a lucky woman, I’m sure there are women dying to be in your position and being loved by a man like Noah.” Her tone quickly changed, and she was unable to make eye contact with me. “Listen, I have to go. I’ll call you later if I need you.”
Our conversation certainly explains Noah’s apologetic nature. Who cares about our stupid fights and the divorce papers debacle. I have him all to myself.
The more I lay here, wide awake, stewing over this, the more I realize how dramatic Morgan has been with this whole situation. She never was an emotionally invested person, but when it came to Noah, she was a raging bull on heat. One minute she couldn’t live without him, and the next, she wanted him out of her life for good.
But now I have him.
And there’s no chance in hell I will ever follow in her footsteps.
“This fever just won’t budge.”
Noah places his hand on Jessa’s forehead, worried, while
her temperature refuses to drop.
It’s been two days since the day I woke up in Morgan’s body, and two days of pure, unadulterated, hell.
Jessa’s came down with some viral infection, which means she slept in our bed at night. I desperately craved to be intimate with Noah again, but this time I wanted to feel him inside of me.
There’s no time even to fantasize about what might be since chaos seems to unfold each damn day.
Noah works all the time, even nights inside his home office. Lantern Publishing has acquired a small print press, which means his workload has doubled overnight. It’s expected that I take care of the kids, run this house, and be at Morgan’s beck and call.
“Well, what do we do? Give her more Tylenol?” I answer, frustrated and exhausted from the lack of sleep. “I’ve already taken her to the doctor yesterday. He said she just needs to rest.”
“Look, just stay with her tonight. I’m going to sleep in the spare room. I have an important meeting tomorrow.”
Noah kisses Jessa on the forehead, then follows by kissing me on the lips. He leaves the room, disappearing while I lay watching Jessa.
She’s fallen fast asleep, gentle snores escaping her tiny mouth. Over the past few days, I’ve learned that she needs almost all my attention. She refuses to eat alone, play by herself, and she loves to annoy Michael. He takes it upon himself to call Wyatt, not wanting to catch whatever this thing is she has. Something I should have probably thought of.
Yet, despite her separation anxiety from me, and the exhaustion from having to always be present with her, a part of me enjoys the feeling of being loved unconditionally.
When the sun peeks through the window this morning, Noah’s lying beside me as the three of us are squashed in the bed. His grunt rumbles against my ear, my heart rate peaking as he wraps his arms around me, leaning his chin on my shoulder.