“Since when? We were good Morgan. We were building together.”
“You were building, Bash. I was just following orders. Your mother, she planned out my entire life. She has me lying about who my kids belong to, has me dressing to her standards, speaking, walking, eating to her standards, Bash. All for what? To uphold your family’s name. I can’t breathe when I’m with you and it’s not even your fault.”
“How long you been fucking him?” Bash asked.
Morgan was silent as she sat beside him. Her eyes were on the glass pieces on the floor. Those pieces reminded her of herself … of her heart … she was shattered and although she seemed okay, no amount of glue would be able to piece her together again. Ahmeek was trying and Morgan wished she could let him, but no one knew how hard it was to trust again. The things she felt for Ahmeek were terrifying. They made her vulnerable, they made her ache inside, and she couldn’t depend on that feeling to stay. She didn’t want to get used to it because her past had taught her that it wouldn’t last. Ahmeek would feel good until one day he didn’t, and Morgan couldn’t put all her eggs in his basket. That basket would grow weak and when it broke she didn’t want her soul cracked. Like last time. So she kept Bash around. Bash didn’t make her weak. He wasn’t capable of it. He provided friendship without requiring her vulnerability. She loved him on the surface but she hadn’t explored his depths. She had no desire to. She was satisfied with a shallow connection. A shallow hole could be filled. If she let another man dig deep and then he left, she would never be the same. Bash was safe. Her silence was all the answer he needed, and she knew it hurt him, but she couldn’t defend wrong. She was wrong. The way she had carried him was wrong, but she would rather give hurt than receive it. She had been taught that somebody in a relationship always felt pain and she had vowed to never be the one to feel that way again.
He scoffed. “I’m wasting my time with you. I’ve raised your kids as my own and put the whole world at your feet and you out here hoeing for that nigga!”
He had never raised his voice at her before. His tone shocked her.
“I’m not screaming. I’m not fighting. I just want to talk about where we go from here,” Morgan stated.
“You’re a fucking piece of work,” he stated. “You’re worthless. You weren’t shit when I met you. A little girl with a drug dealing daddy from the ghetto. I should have left your ass there.”
Morgan’s eyes widened. “Wow,” she scoffed. She went to stand, and Bash pulled her arm, jerking her so hard her knees hit the ground, sinking into the glass.
“Don’t walk away when I’m talking to you! You’re my fiancée…”
“Well maybe I shouldn’t be!” Morgan screamed as she pushed him off her. He stood, towering over her. “Yes! I’m fucking him. He knows me! He knows Morgan Atkins. The daughter of a drug dealer from Flint and instead of judging me for it he loves that shit. He fucking cherishes me for who I am right now, today, not who he can turn me into!” Morgan pulled the ring off her finger. “I’m not your fiancée. You’re not engaged to Morgan Atkins. I don’t even know the girl who said yes to you.”
Bash pulled the corner of his bloody lip into his mouth and touched it with his thumb, frowning as he shook his head.
“You don’t want to be with me, Mo? You gon’ take those kids from me? After everything I’ve done for you?”
“It just doesn’t feel like this is where I’m supposed to be,” Morgan said.
“But you’re supposed to be with him? They’re all the same Mo! He’s not sticking around! He gon’ leave you just like the nigga before. Wasn’t that man Messiah’s friend? You would rather crawl around in the gutter as a pass around than marry somebody who can elevate you.”
The words jolted her.
“Have some self-respect, Mo!” Bash stated. “I asked you to be my wife. What have any of them ever done besides fuck you?”
Morgan had never felt so low. She placed the back of one hand to her forehead and one hand on her stomach as she tried to stop his words from ripping through her. She was choking on cries, refusing to let them spill. He had hurt her feelings so badly. He had pointed out the obvious and the thought that she was nothing more than a conquest to Ahmeek brought her to tears. Bash sat on the couch, leaning over onto his knees and shaking his head as he stared at the floor.
“Tell me what he is giving you, that I don’t?” he whispered, calming, forcing his anger down to give way to what he was really feeling. Loss.
“I don’t know,” Morgan whispered as a tear fell down her cheek. “He just understands me…”
“Help me understand you, Mo. Do you not love me? Because I love the hell out of you,” Bash admitted. “From the first time I saw you.”
Morgan broke. Even after discovering her in bed with another man, even with the smell of Ahmeek still on her skin, even after taking a brutal beating Bash still wanted her. Was still professing his love. It reminded her of Messiah. It reminded her of how Messiah had taken advantage of her love for him. She was doing that in this moment. Hurting Bash. Taking advantage of him because she knew he loved her more … Messiah had turned her heartless. Messiah had turned her into a fucked-up person. Someone who went around selfishly stealing hearts just to break them simply because she could.
“I do care about you, Bash. It’s just not…” She paused. How could she word this? How could she say how she felt without hurting him more? “You’re my friend. I care about you like that. Like I look at you and I see my best friend. We joke, we have a good time. The twins adore you. You’re kind, but I’m not in love with you. I can’t be because there is shit in my heart that stops me from falling too hard. After Messiah, I can’t fall that hard,” she said. “I need to remain in control of my heart … of my life … and your family takes control of me. I have no freedom. Your mom…”
“Is a bitch, Mo. Everyone knows she’s a bitch. I don’t want her to be the reason I lose you. Okay, you don’t love me. You can grow to love me though, Morgan. Love grows. I’m not dangerous or gangster or from the streets but I’ll love you right, Mo.”
“I don’t know if that’s enough,” she answered. “I don’t know if I can be who you want.”
“Don’t throw the past two years away for him,” Bash answered. “Just give me a chance to keep my hat in the ring. Wear my ring, Mo. I know I fucked up in Vegas. I was angry and I was dead ass wrong, Morgan. If this is payback for that, let it be done. I fucked up. You fucked up. Now let’s get it right.”
“You left my kids backstage by themselves,” Morgan said, shaking her head.
“Don’t do that, Mo. They’re mine too. You know I’m here for them like they belong to me,” Bash said.
“But they don’t. It’s clear that you don’t really feel that way because you would never have left them if they were yours. If they shared your blood and had your last name.”
“And he loves them better? You think he’ll love you better?” Bash asked.
“I don’t know!” Morgan shouted. “He’s just…” Morgan sighed as anxiety built in her chest. “I don’t know.”