MORGAN'S POV
"Stop it, Braden. Give it to me," I say, playfully pouting my lip as I extend my arms toward my little blanket.
"You don't even sleep with it," he remarks, holding the blanket up to the light
I chuckle, the corners of my lips curling into a fond smile. "I know, but that's something I keep as a souvenir from when I was a baby." I pause, a nostalgic glint in my eyes, and then add, "I think I slept with it until I was 14 or 15. Then, I got a boyfriend, and I stopped sleeping with it because I was embarrassed." I reclaim the blanket, wrapping it around my shoulders like a protective shield against the embarrassment of teenage years.
"I think you should bring it back. It's cute," Braden says, his tone softened. He continues taping a box filled with souvenirs that were already packed in my wardrobe.
I roll my eyes with a smile, "Cute, huh? Well, I guess it does have a certain charm." I say putting it in the box identify by an etiquette that's says 'Souvenir' on it.
I look around the room, spotting a dusty old photo album. I pick it up, blowing away some of the dust, and open it. "Oh, here's a classic. Me with pigtails and braces. Brace yourself for the cringe."
Braden laughs, joining me to flip through the pages as we continue to pack memories into boxes, creating new ones in the process.
As I carefully pack my belongings into boxes, the excitement of a new apartment in Brooklyn courses through my veins. The prospect of a fresh start, a space entirely my own, brings a sense of independence and adventure. The idea of exploring a new neighborhood and making new memories fills me with anticipation.
Yet, amidst the excitement, a subtle undercurrent of emotion tugs at my heart. Leaving my brother behind, the one who has been my roommate for the past year, adds a layer of bittersweet sentimentality to the process. We've shared late-night talks, inside jokes, and the comfort of each other's company in our little corner of the world.
"Are you excited to have your own apartment?" Braden asks me, the sound of cardboard flaps being folded and taped in the background.
"Well, yes I am. Kind of," I respond, my tone hesitant, as if grappling with conflicting emotions about the new chapter unfolding.
Braden pauses in his box assembly, looking up with a gentle curiosity. "What are you scared of?" he asks, his expression warm and encouraging.
I take a deep breath before revealing my inner turmoil. "I don't know. I'm scared to feel alone. I'm scared that I won't see you and Ced as often as I do now. I'm scared to ruin it all again." The vulnerability in my voice hangs in the air.
Braden sets the box aside, his attention fully on me. His warm hazel eyes convey understanding, and he speaks with a comforting reassurance, "Change is scary, but you're not alone. We're just a call or a short drive away. You won't ruin anything, look—you're starting to have a good career. Things are doing great, M. Things are falling into place."
I chew the inside of my cheek, contemplating the upcoming changes. Braden, sensing the weight of my thoughts, pauses in his packing. His eyes, filled with a comforting understanding, meet mine. The air hangs with anticipation as the question I've been grappling with slips past my lips, "Will you come see me?"
His response is swift, and his voice carries a reassuring certainty, "Why wouldn't I? I'm your biggest fan." A playful grin graces his lips, injecting a touch of lightness into the serious tone that lingered in the room.
I react with a subtle shrug, raising my shoulders in a guise of an answer, a half-smile forming on my lips. It's a delicate dance of vulnerability and assurance, the unspoken connection between us weaving through the air.
"You're not getting rid of me that easily, Mrs. Carter," Braden declares, and before I can fully grasp his intent, his hands find my waist. With an effortless grace that surprises me, he puts me on top of him, and we find ourselves both laying on the floor amidst the partially packed boxes.
Amidst the laughter that fills the room, I playfully tease Braden, "Shit, that's what I was hoping for," a sarcastic glint in my eyes.
Braden, ever quick with his comebacks, furrows his brows in mock offense, grunting in a theatrical manner. Without missing a beat, he seizes the opportunity and begins tickling the sides of my waist, eliciting uncontrollable fits of giggles from me. I squirm in every direction, breathless from the assault of laughter. "Braden, please. If I kick you, it's your fault," I manage to plead between laughs.
Responding to my plea, Braden stops his playful torture, and our eyes lock. With his thumb, he delicately wipes away the tears of laughter that escaped during the tickling. "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen," he says, his voice soft, and his touch on my face is tender as he caresses it.
The genuine smile lingers on my lips as a silent expression of gratitude, and in response to the tender moment, I lean in, closing the distance between Braden and me. Our kiss is born from reminiscent of a rock and roll night we had not too long ago. Our lips intertwine, and I can feel the softness of Braden's full lips against mine.
The sound of the front door bell pierces through the room, interrupting the tender exchange. We pull away, breathless, our eyes meeting with a shared curiosity. "Who's this?" Braden asks, his expression shifting from playful to genuinely curious.
I get all excited when I remember that I'm waiting for a package – new bed sheets and a bed cover to make my new place feel even cozier. "I'm waiting for a package," I say as I reluctantly get up from Braden's body.
In a rush, I put on slippers and grab one of Ced's coats that was lying in the entrance, wrapping it around myself for a makeshift cover-up. I almost run to the front door, anticipation building for the arrival of the awaited package.
As I swing the door open and step into the building hall, expecting the delivery man with my package, my eyes widen with surprise at the unexpected twist. Instead of the delivery person, there stands Jack, wearing a big smile that reveals his teeth. He starts walking towards me, presumably with some words on his mind.
Anticipating the conversation that might unfold, I decide to take the initiative and cut him off before he can speak.
"What are you doing here? You can't just come here like this. Braden is here; you have to go, Jack," I say, my tone a mix of surprise and frustration at the unexpected intrusion.
"Umh, actually, I'm not here for you. I'm here for Ced," Jack explains with an air of nonchalance, as if it's the most natural thing in the world for him to be showing up unannounced.
My eyebrows furrow in confusion. "For Ced? What do you need from him?"
"Just catching up. We used to have a yearly reunion, but for three years we stopped," Jack says, releasing a chuckle as he shares the reason for his unexpected visit.
"I didn't know about this," I respond, shaking my head in surprise.
"So, is he here?" Jack inquires, his curiosity evident.
"No, not yet. He went for a run, but I think he should be here in a minute," I say, glancing at my phone. The situation feels surreal, and I find myself caught between the unexpected reunion of old friends and the lingering tension of the interruption.
Braden, who believes I'm returning with a package to continue our day of packing, has no idea about the surprise awaiting him.
Ced's entrance brings a burst of vibrant energy into the room, his post-run enthusiasm evident as he peels off his running gloves. "Hey bud," he greets Jack with genuine warmth, initiating a friendly fist bump.
As I observe their exchange, I can't help but reflect on the complex history between Ced and Jack. The last time Ced mentioned Jack's name, there was a tinge of discomfort. They were friends during their teenage years, but when we broke up, Ced's perspective on Jack became bittersweet. The communication between them dwindled, and I wasn't aware of the yearly hanging-out situations that seemed to be a part of their history.
"I didn't know you guys were still seeing each other every year," I express, my brows furrowing in confusion.
Ced chuckles, sharing a glance with Jack. "Yeah, well, the last time we did it was like three years ago, uh," he says, seeking Jack's agreement.
Ced looks at me up and down as he realizes that I'm wearing one of his coats.
"What the hell are you wearing, M?" he asks me, a hint of amusement in his tone.
"Oh, this? It's just... comfortable," I say, attempting to downplay the fact that I've raided his wardrobe. Ced raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips.
"Let's go, we won't stay in the entrance forever," Ced adds, his words prompting me to lead the way. The tension seems to ease as we move, and I guide them into the elevator.
As the doors close, Jack takes the opportunity to mention how he has visited the place three or four times before last year's renovation . A subtle acknowledgment of the changes that have occurred, yet he tactfully avoids delving into the events of the other night. I appreciate the unspoken understanding, as it's a topic I've only shared with Olivia.
Olivia, like Jack, had advised me to "quit this damn job."
"I quitted my job," I drop the bomb to Jack as the elevator ascends.
Ced looks at me with a shocked expression, mirroring the surprise etched on his face. On the other side of the spectrum, Jack offers me a soft smile of satisfaction.
"You quitted your job? I thought you liked it," Ced questions as the elevator door opens.
"I need to focus on my main goal. Interior design," I assert, my voice carrying a newfound confidence.
The revelation hangs in the air as we step out of the elevator, each of them processing the news in their own way. Olivia's words of advice, echoing in my mind, become a driving force behind my decision.
I open the door, and we all witness Braden hurriedly putting on his shoes. He looks up at us with a confused expression and explains that he was about to go down to see if everything was alright, as it had taken me longer than expected to return.
Braden greets Jack with a soft head tilt, and Jack reciprocates the gesture. I take Braden's hands. "Come on, we have a lot of packing to do," I tell him, leading the way back to my room.
As we enter my room. boxes await packing, and the task at hand serves as a welcome distraction from the complexities outside these four walls.
From my room, I can see Ced and Jack catching up in the kitchen, each holding a cup of coffee. Their conversation is lively, and they seem to be enjoying each other's company so much that they don't even acknowledge that Braden and I are here.
As we delve into the task of packing, the room is filled with the rhythmic sounds of clothes being folded and items being organized. The soft rustle of fabric, the occasional crinkle of packing materials, and the careful placement of belongings create a background melody, a counterpoint to the distant laughter that filters in from the kitchen.
The conversation between Ced and Jack in the kitchen becomes audible. Ced's laughter rings out, punctuated by Jack's animated storytelling. They're lost in their own world of reminiscence, catching up on the years that slipped away.
"I'm a bit disappointed it wasn't my package. It was just Jack," I confess, pouting my lips in a playful manner as I glance at Braden, who is engrossed in folding a shirt.
Braden chuckles, shaking his head with a lighthearted smile. "Well, I'm disappointed too."
"Do you remember the time we ordered UberEats, and the delivery guy arrived? I went to get the food, and he took a picture of me to prove that he had delivered it. But I was just standing there in my boxers, completely clueless," Braden says, breaking into laughter.
I burst into laughter alongside him, the shared recollection bringing a playful energy to the room. "Oh my god, I remember that! You were so mortified," I say, shaking my head at the comical memory.
As the laughter continues, Jack unexpectedly passes in front of my room, causing us to pause mid-chuckle. He gives us a quizzical look, then does a double-take, backtracking to lean against the door frame.
"What are you guys doing?" he asks, his curiosity evident.
Tape in hand, I respond, "We're packing, getting ready to move into a new apartment."
He lift his eyebrows in surprise and his smile that he had earlier on his face seem to disapear. "Oh, got it."
Jack disappears from my room, I share a glance with Braden, and a sense of confusion and contentment settles in.
...
JACK'S POV
I walk towards Ced, and my heart can't stops racing. What the freak ; Morgan is moving with Braden. I'm going to loose my mind. I thought she wasn't sure about what she feels about it. I'm feeling like a clown in the middle of a circus.
"You good?" Ced asks, glancing at me.
I nod, offering a half-smile. "Yeah, your sister is moving out, eh," I reply, pointing with my thumbs toward Morgan's room.
Ced chuckles, understanding the mix of emotions that come with a sibling moving out. "Yeah, it's a big step for her. No need to talk about it, I'm kind of mad."
He shakes his head while putting our empty coffee mugs in the dishwasher.
"I never thought she would do it, moving out and especially with Braden around," Ced's words hang in the air, stirring a mixture of emotions within me. The acknowledgment that Morgan might be hesitant about commitment, perhaps shaped by her past experiences, adds a layer of complexity to the unfolding situation. A subtle pang of guilt creeps in, leading me to question if my own actions have played a role in fostering those reservations.
As I nod in understanding, my gaze shifts towards Morgan's room, where her laughter intertwines with Braden's. Conflicting emotions wrestle within me. Remorse casts its shadow, a familiar companion in the intricate dance of our shared history.
Yet, a pragmatic acceptance settles in — our paths have diverged. A relationship with Morgan, though filled with shared memories, wouldn't harmonize with my current priorities. The awareness of our differences looms, and the prospect of navigating those disparities becomes a daunting reality.
The clashing currents of remorse, acknowledgment, and the inevitability of diverging paths create a tumultuous landscape within me.
I can't help but wonder: "Is it selfish of me to hope she doesn't find someone better, even though I've chosen not to be the right guy for her?" It's a mix of wanting the best for Morgan and recognizing our paths have shifted. I genuinely want her to be treated well, even though it's not by me.
People say Schneider is a good guy, and I admit, he might be. But unexpectedly, I feel a twinge of anger towards Schneider, adding a complicated layer to my feelings. It's a messy mix of caring for Morgan, accepting change, and dealing with unexpected emotions.
Ced's voice pulls me back to the present. "You guys are playing tonight?" he inquires.
I nod in response, "Yeah. Home game against the Maple Leafs," I inform him.
"Nice, we're playing tomorrow. Out of town thought, against the Flyers," Ced shares.
Ced leans against the kitchen counter, a glass of water in hand, and continues the hockey talk. "You think you'll score tonight?" he asks, a playful glint in his eyes.
I chuckle, mirroring his easygoing tone. "I'm hoping to pull off a goal, but we'll see. The Maple Leafs have been tough lately," I reply, a hint of competitive spirit underlying my words.
Ced smirks, taking a sip of his water. "Well, we'll be aiming for a shutout tomorrow against the Flyers. It's always a good game when we face them."
Glancing at my phone, I notice it's already 3 pm. The realization hits that I need to head back home, grab a bite to eat, and get ready for the game. A sense of responsibility sets in, knowing that my pre-game rituals are part of the routine leading up to the evening match.
"Speaking of the game, I should probably go and get ready," I inform Ced, a sense of urgency in my tone.
Ced nods understandingly, acknowledging the demands of our respective schedules. "Yeah, get in the zone. Good luck tonight, bud," he says, offering a supportive pat on the shoulder.
"It was good seeing you. We should do this more often, eh?" I express, a genuine smile on my face.
Ced returns the sentiment with a nod. "Absolutely, let's plan something again soon. Take care out there on the ice tonight," he adds with a supportive grin.
With a wave, I head out, ready to focus on the upcoming game. I didn't even said by to Morgan, she looked too occupied with her Braden.
The truth is, the reason behind my impromptu visit was more than just catching up with an old friend. I wanted to check on Morgan, especially after the events of the other night.
It feels like there's a layer of secrecy around her, a series of undisclosed moments that she hasn't shared with her brother or even Braden. Another secret added to the growing list.
The realization that Morgan is full of secrets throws me off a bit. It adds an element of mystery to her, making me wonder how many layers she's hiding beneath her seemingly carefree exterior. It's a reminder that people are complex, and sometimes, even those closest to us can have hidden depths we've yet to uncover.
I check my phone and see that Morgan posted a new story on instagram. As I clic on her profil picture, my heart sinks in.
...
Hey!
Jack thinks that Morgan is moving in with Braden, but it's only a misunderstanding. What's going to happen next? Will it encourage him to try his hardest with Morgan, or will it stop him now?
Much love, xxx.