Chasing Fate (Dark Love 5)

I breathe a sigh of relief. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. You talked on and on about anal fisting, completely killing my buzz.”

I place my cell on my forehead—this shit just gets worse and worse. “Jesus. I’m sorry. For everything.”

“You were upset. I get it. I was upset for you and for myself. It was just a bad night all around. I want to forget everything as much as you.”

I lean my chair back, tilting my head up until I’m staring at the ceiling. It’s nothing but all white, a blank canvas that calms me if only a moment. The creak of my door alarms me, and I pull myself forward and see Morgan standing at the entrance.

“Kate, I have to go.”

“Sure… but Noah?”

“Yeah?”

“We need to talk, soon. Okay?”

I say goodbye, hanging up the phone and placing it on my desk.

Morgan closes the door behind her and continues to stand in the same spot. She looks terrible, dark circles behind her glasses. Even her hair doesn’t look as neat as it usually does.

Although she looks like death has found her, she’s still a beautiful woman.

And I hate that fact.

I should be looking at her with complete contempt and disgust right now.

“I guess I deserve that, and am not surprised Kate is the one you run to.”

I keep silent.

“I came here to talk to you… to explain what happened.” She tries to control her tone, remaining still.

“You can’t just ambush me at work,” I tell her in an artic voice.

“It’s the only place where I know you’ll have a civil conversation.”

“There’s nothing civil about you being married with a kid, Morgan.”

She continues to stand at the door, barely moving yet still remaining composed. “We need to talk, Noah. Please?”

Staring at the floor, I avoid meeting her eyes. The pain is etched all over her face, but who says she even feels pain? Maybe it’s guilt for treating me like shit. Just your run-of-the-mill guilty conscience when you know you screwed someone over but only have yourself to blame.

Just like you did with Benny.

“What’s there to talk about? I was a fool. You lied. I got played. End of story.”

She moves a few feet closer. “No, Noah. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself… the situation.”

“The situation? The fact that you’re married?”

“Separated.”

I laugh at the ridiculous technicality. “Such a loose word. That’s what they all say, ‘I’m separated.’ Because it gives you the right to fuck around.”

“But it gives you the right to prey on women even though you know they’re not over their ex?” she argues back.

And right there, she made it all clear. Not over an ex.