THREE
“Mom, I’m fine. Really. I wish we could come see you too.”
Morgan paced his apartment, running his fingers through his hair. It had been a lousy day, and he wanted to do nothing except catch up on some reading. But he hadn’t spoken to his parents since he’d moved into his new apartment, and now that they’d called him, he had to come up with an excuse why he couldn’t see them. Again.
“But you always come home to visit over the summer. We’re going to miss seeing you. Dad was looking forward to going fishing and everything.”
God, he hated lying to his parents, but he couldn’t tell them the truth. They were so proud of his accomplishments. He was the first in his family to graduate college, and they’d been bursting with pride when he got his Master’s in Education. His mother had bragged to everyone she met in their small town upstate that Morgan was going to be a teacher. The day he left for his job in New York City, they were concerned but understood.
“We know you’ll be careful, but the city can be dangerous for someone like you.” His father held his shoulder tight. “You’re too kind and trusting.”
“I’ll be all right. I’m a pretty good judge of character.”
Fresh-faced and eager, he’d jumped into New York City with open arms. A gay kid who’d never had a real relationship, he couldn’t wait to experience the freedom to be himself. How naïve he’d been. A fool. Sheltered and babied since birth, he’d been the doted on “miracle child” and had only known love.
Jeffrey had taught him about pain and fear.
And now deception.
Morgan had a secret. He hadn’t yet revealed to his parents that he and Jeffrey were divorced. He’d never tell them about the abuse. No one need ever know. The litany of his failures unfolded before his eyes, but there was no yellow brick road rolled out in front of him, leading to the shining city of Oz. And unlike Dorothy, Morgan didn’t want to go home. He had to adjust and pivot and learn to make a new life.
“How’s Jeffrey doing? I swear I’ve never known someone who works so hard.”
Morgan winced at his mother’s sympathy. “Very. Well, that’s him. Nonstop.” He forced out a laugh.
“We were looking forward to seeing our son-in-law again. Meeting him for the first time at the wedding was bad enough, but not seeing him since? Gifts and phone calls are nice and all, but surely he could get at least a few days off to see us?”
Once they’d become serious, Jeffrey had been happy to talk on the phone with his parents every week, and Morgan fell even more in love with him when, for his parents’ wedding anniversary, Jeffrey surprised them with a cruise. They’d had the most wonderful time and couldn’t stop telling their friends how their fabulous son-in-law had given them that gift.
During their marriage, Jeffrey had made zero attempts to join Morgan on his visits upstate, using his brutal work schedule as an excuse. With the wisdom of hindsight, Morgan now knew it was because they were small-town people with small-town values. His parents weren’t rich and had no contacts Jeffrey could use, so as far as he could see, they were merely deadweight.
“He’s in the middle of a big case now, and I-I took on extra administrative work this summer and can’t leave. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. We’ll miss you, but your careers are important.”
“Thanks. I’m really sorry.” Morgan gulped, feeling like shit.
“Don’t apologize. We understand.” His mother’s considerate reassurance only fueled his guilt. “We love you both. Say hello for us, and we’ll talk to you next week.”
He tossed the phone to the couch and huffed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. The sounds of traffic filtered in through the window, and he fanned his face. That morning he’d bought an AC window unit, and with the super’s permission, had it installed, but the energy-saver, low setting wasn’t providing any relief, and he was hot as hell. He decided to turn it up to full blast, which promised to cool off a space this size in less than five minutes. To hell with the electricity bill.
His stomach growled, and he thought of the shopping cart he’d left behind in the supermarket the day before. He’d been so embarrassed at knocking over the cans display, that when Leo the super approached him, he couldn’t do anything but run. Once home, he took a rare sleeping pill and went straight to bed, even though he hated how groggy and disoriented it left him feeling.
God, you’re a jerk. A jerk and a klutz, and now people in this neighborhood know it.
He stripped out of his clothes and headed for the bathroom. The water hiccupped from the hinky showerhead, and Morgan coughed and sputtered. The last thing he wanted was to have to call Leo DeLuca to fix anything. The man already thought he was an idiot. He turned the knobs, and after some groaning of the pipes, he managed to achieve a decent hot spray.
He couldn’t believe he’d made a fool of himself—again—in front of the growly but gorgeous super. In the weeks since he’d moved in, Morgan had caught glimpses of the man, usually lugging something heavy, showcasing those delicious muscles. An assortment of interesting-looking tattoos ran up and down both arms, highlighting the curves and dips of his biceps, and Morgan found himself straining to see what they were but never getting near for long enough to study them. On the one occasion they’d come close, Morgan had his hands filled with bags and failed miserably in his attempt to unlock the front door. One bag slipped, and all his toiletries spilled over the ground. Leo opened the door but didn’t acknowledge him aside from a raised dark brow and a quick, sardonic twist of his lips, which Morgan assumed was an attempt at a smile. He expected nothing more. Why would a guy like Leo notice him?
Morgan had muttered something, ducked his head, and shoved everything inside the reusable tote, hoping like hell Leo hadn’t spotted the box of lube among the shampoo, soap, and laundry detergent. Cheeks burning, Morgan had punched at the elevator button and hustled inside when the doors opened, but by that time, Leo had already walked away without a word.
Even now he winced at the memory. He turned off the spray and stepped out of the tub, dripping water onto the rug. With a towel wrapped around his waist, he left his tiny bathroom and stepped into a pair of boxers.
The apartment had cooled off nicely, and Morgan lifted his face to the rush of air. He shivered, enjoying the chill, and decided it was the perfect time to try out his new essential-oil diffuser. He plugged it in, and the warm scent of lavender filled the air, calming him. Jeffrey had always hated it and refused to let him use it.
My time now.
He flipped on the television for white noise, and when his stomach gurgled, he remembered he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. With yesterday’s grocery shopping cut short by his stupidity, and feeling too lazy to go out in the heat, he resigned himself to boxed mac-and-cheese. He put everything in a bowl and pushed the button of the microwave. The lights dimmed, and then acracksounded above his head as the bulb blew out and everything in the apartment went silent.
