FIC- General Hospital (Morgan, Morgan/Lila, Lila/OC)
Title: It's All Over But The Crying (Break You Down)
Rating/Warnings: r/very strong language and intense domestic situations
Word Count: 5,471
Summary: A Wednesday is just an ordinary day in the week.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Author's Note: This is Part III in a very interesting writing experiment I did with empressearwig. We wrote the reveal of Lila and Spencer's affair from four different point of view's. It's all the same story, the same day, from four very different perspectives. It was a lot of fun to collaborate with someone in this way, and our stories meet in the same places and veer off in others. Here you can find Spencer's and Janessa's parts.
A Wednesday is just an ordinary day in the week; its only real significance is being the halfway point between weekends. No one ever expects anything extraordinary to happen on a Wednesday.
No one ever expects anything catastrophic either.
So Morgan woke up much in the same way he did most days. He slept on the side of the bed that faced the door, and Lila slept on the side facing the window. Usually, they fell asleep cuddling close together (her feet were always cold at night and she liked to tuck them under his calves), but more often than not, he woke up sprawled on his stomach and she woke up curled into a ball facing the window, apart from each other.
He stirred and rolled over, looking down at his perfect, young wife. He smoothed a hand over her hair, like raw silk, and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “I love you,” he whispered against her ear while she slept soundly. “Forever.”
He rolled out of bed and into their walk-in dressing room to grab a pair of shorts and a tee shirt. Morgan started each day with a six mile run, followed by one hundred pull-ups and push-ups, and one thousand stomach crunches. Breakfast was an egg-white omelette and fruit. Every single day. Lila didn’t care for exercise, and more often than not, she’d indulge in a chocolate croissant or a raspberry strudel danish. She laughed at him for being so disciplined but he could feel the appreciation in her eyes and hear it in her voice when she ran her hands over his body at night, when they made love.
By the time he showered, dressed in a coal grey suit and headed into the dining room for his peppermint tea (Morgan never drank coffee), Lila was awake, but not dressed for the day, clad only in a silk, cream-colored robe. Morgan knew that she wore nothing underneath and it was nearly enough to scoop her up from the breakfast table and carry her back up to their bed and keep her there all day, schedules and work and responsibilities be damned. But he couldn’t do that, people were counting on him at the office (Kristina for one) and Lila had a full day, too, he was sure. Lunch with the hospital guild and appointments with the decorator who was renovating the guest suites and…well, he was never entirely sure just what it was she did all day, but she always seemed to have somewhere to be.
“Let‘s have dinner tonight. Maybe at the Lady Jane?” He asked her as he stood and buttoned his suit jacket.
She smiled up at him. “Whatever you want to do.”
He leaned down and kissed her, lingering only for a second so he wouldn’t get carried away, and then quickly, tenderly in the middle of her forehead. “I love you, Lila.” He brushed a fiery lock of hair off her brow and she smiled back at him, kissing his palm before he left.
******************************************************************************************
Kristina beat him to the office, like she always did. But then, Kristina didn’t run six miles every morning, or have someone laying next to her, to pull closer for one more cuddle before waking up. Morgan shook his head to himself as she barely lifted her head in greeting to him, still hard at work over her desk. His sister was almost blindingly beautiful, inky black eyes and lustrous black hair and perfect, glowing skin, without ever even a hint of make-up. She simply didn’t have time for it- it seemed she never had time for anything other than work. He hoped someday she would set work aside long enough to find someone to love, because she had more love to give than anyone he knew.
He hadn’t even realized he’d been staring until she glanced up from her desk, and gave him a double-take. “Are you going to stare at me all day, or are you going to take a look at the preliminary Q1 numbers?”
He chuckled to himself. “Good morning to you too, Kristina. What time did you get in today? Six-thirty? Or did you just sleep here last night?”
She rolled her eyes, but good-naturedly set down her pencil and regarded her brother with a playful smile. “Fine, brother, let’s have some pleasantries. Why are you in such a good mood today?”
He leaned back in his chair, grinning lazily. “Why not? I’m young, healthy, got a great family, birds are chirping, sun is shining. Life is pretty perfect for me.”
Kristina laughed. “You lead a charmed life, kid, that’s for sure. I mean, you’re about to open an office in Dubai, you were written up in Forbes this year….” She paused, smiling knowingly. “We’re fielding calls from the city council’s office asking for you to come on board-”
“I’m fine where I am,” Morgan interrupted. His eyes sobered for a second. “You know what politics did to our parents, Kris, we’re good with just running our little import company, right?”
“Our ‘little’ import company,” she chuckled. “And you’ve still got your ideals,” Kristina smiled a bit more genuinely this time. “Charmed life, little brother.”
“And don’t forget Lila,” he grinned again, just thinking of his wife.
She laughed. “Of course don’t forget her.” And she rolled her eyes in the way of sisters who are genuinely happy to hear about their sibling’s happy love lives, but would rather not hear it every single day.
“Some day, Kris, it’s going to hit you…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I hear it from you, I hear it from Molly, even Mom has been asking me if Hector Santos is calling lately!” Kristina rubbed her hands over her eyes in frustration and Morgan laughed.
“Now that’s bad!” Their mother, Alexis, had done her best to ingrain a fierce independence in her girls, terrified that they would ever be dependent on any man. Molly had her own brand of steel-spined strength, but she had been completely dependent on Cameron Spencer since she was fifteen (just as he was to her). Kristina was Alexis’s real pride and joy, and everyone knew it. “So….” He shrugged. “How about it, Kris? Has Hector been calling lately?”
Kristina looked away. “No.” It seemed she did not care to elaborate further, so Morgan backed off. She cleared her throat. “And Lila? Are things really as perfect as you say?”
Morgan smiled. “Perfect? Probably not. But I’m happy, Kris. Really I am.” He emphasized the word really. Kristina and Molly had done their duties for Lila before their wedding, with Kristina planning her shower and Molly standing as her matron-of-honor. His sisters did it more for him than they did for her. Kristina was always kind to Lila, but she held herself back a little. Which was fine, Morgan knew they didn’t have much in common, and it was enough that his sisters showed his wife the respect she deserved. Molly was sweeter to Lila, and tried to be her link into the upper crust circles she so desperately wanted to be a part of, but Molly would never side with Lila over Lana, and Lana despised Lila. It had been the source of his first argument with Robin, the way that Lana treated his wife.
Robin had been like a close second mother to Morgan growing up. She was one of the few people who had good memories of his father and did her best to keep them safe for him. But since they were teenagers, Lila and Lana were like oil and vinegar, and one time, Morgan had to all but throw the Drake family out of his home when a Sunday dinner turned ugly with the insults between the girls. Shock and hurt crossed Robin’s face, but she gathered her grown up children and filed them out of his house.
He shook his head out of his thoughts. “I, um….I think we’re going to try to start having a family soon.”
Her eyes widened, and she said, “Huh.”
“Huh? That’s all you have to say?”
Kristina shrugged. “I mean….What’s the rush, Morgan?”
“We’ve been married three years,” he answered. “I think we’ve waited long enough.”
Kristina looked somewhere over his shoulder, the way she did when she was trying to collect her thoughts and not rush out with the first thing on her mind. “Morgan, I mean…Lila’s only twenty-six. Are you sure you guys are ready to be parents?”
“She’s ready. We both are,” Morgan leaned forward and looked his sister in the eye. “Kristina, you’ve got to just understand how much I love this woman. Creating a child with her, bonding us even that much more….I honestly can’t wait to see a baby of ours.” He cleared his throat. This conversation had become much heavier than they usually got before lunch. He stood up again, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. “I’ve got to get running. I have to be at a meeting downtown by eleven, and I’ll never get any work done if I’m gabbing with you all morning.”
Kristina rolled her eyes and laughed, seemingly relieved that he lightened the mood. But as he reached the door of their office, she stopped him, “Morgan? I’m really happy for you, you know.”
He smiled. “Thanks, big sister. I can always count on you.”
******************************************************************************************
He was whistling while he headed back to the office. His good mood had only improved at his meeting- a deal he’d been working on for months was finally falling into place. Afterwards, he tried to call Lila to see if she wanted to get lunch at Kelley’s, but her phone had gone straight to voicemail. Still, the day was warm, with a nearly golden kind of sunlight, and he felt no need to rush back to the office. Morgan loosened his tie.
Up ahead of him, he saw a tiny figure with a smooth cap of blond hair, perched on one of the dock’s benches. She was cradling an angel-faced baby with the same platinum head. Janessa and Tatiana, Spencer’s wife and child. Morgan had a great deal of respect for Janessa. She had a calming effect on his constantly brooding cousin- or at least, she had for a while. Lately, Spencer seemed as restless as ever. And as Morgan got closer, he saw deep lines of worry crossing Janessa’s usually serene face as she tried to soothe the baby who was fussing uncontrollably. He couldn’t help but wonder if whatever had been troubling Spencer lately was beginning to affect his family.
“Janessa?”
She turned, quickly wiping tears away from her eyes, and attempting a weak smile. “Hello Morgan.”
Tatiana was squirming in her mother’s arms. She was the perfect minature of Janessa- no dark Cassadine feature to be had on the child. Morgan had heard once that babies could not relax if the person who held them was upset and he reached out his fingers to the little girl in reassurance. She took hold of one of his long brown fingers in her chubby fist, holding tightly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just an overwhelmed new mother moment and needed to cry.” Her voice was brittle, betraying any kind of casual air she was trying to strike.
“You’re sure it’s nothing more?” He said, keeping his voice carefully low. He ran his broad thumb over Tatiana’s tiny fingers, and wondered if his own child would have little tendrils of soft red curls like Lila.
“Yes, you’re sweet to worry, but I’m fine. We’re fine.” Janessa cuddled her baby daughter more closely, and Morgan almost saw her drawing strength from her child.
Would Lila be like this, when they had a baby? Would she be overwhelmed, crying on the docks by herself? “I can call Spencer. You shouldn’t be out here alone.” He made his own private vow that Lila would never feel so alone out here when she was a young mother of an infant, and he put his hand in his pocket to reach for his cell phone.
Janessa shook her head so violently that Tatiana jumped in her arms. “No. Don’t.”
Morgan paused, hand still in his pocket. “Why not?”
She laughed then, a wild chuckle that was so unladylike, so very un-Janessalike, Morgan could feel a peculiar stillness settle over him. “I don’t really think he would care to know.”
He cocked his head to the side, silent for a moment and studied his cousin’s wife. Something was wrong- very wrong. He lowered his voice, gentling his tone the way he would if he talked to a child. “What are you talking about? Spencer adores you and Tatiana, if something is wrong-”
“But he’s what’s wrong!” She snapped, the baby once again began squirming after just calming down.
“I don’t understand.” He wanted to reach for her, to comfort her. Being raised in a family of such strong women, his first instinct was always to protect, but he held back. He had never seen quiet, sweet Janessa so broken and unhinged.
Her eyes seemed to look right through him as she spoke. “I went to see him at the office. I thought it would be a nice break for him, he’s been working so hard lately. And I wanted to see him. I love him so much, you know. He and our baby girl are my whole world….So, I went to Cassadine and up to his floor. His secretary- Mrs. Malone- she’s always so nice to me, but today she tried to stop me from seeing him and I didn’t understand why, but then I opened the door and saw it and now I can’t stop seeing it and it hurts so much that I don’t know how I’m going to be able to bear it.”
She was completely rambling, one word streaming right into the next, she hardly took a breath and Morgan wanted to take her by the shoulders and steady her but he was afraid that one touch would have her falling apart completely. Her eyes nearly looked pure black, they were so dilated. “Saw what?” It was practically a whisper.
“My husband was having sex on his desk,” the word sex broke on a strangled sob.
Morgan’s pulse quickened, temper rising color in his face. He swore, under his breath, the word practically a curse. “Do you know who the woman was?” He asked Janessa, but immediately thought better of the question. “I’m sorry Janessa, that’s a completely inappropriate ques-”
“It was Lila!” The word hit him…and it felt like it came from another place, said in another language. Like she hadn’t just said Spencer, your cousin and lifelong best friend, was having sex with Lila, your wife. No, Janessa was mistaken.
It was a mistake.
The blue of Janessa’s eyes slowly came back into focus, and as she looked at him once more, realizing who she was talking to and where she was…who she was, horror crossed her face, and shame. “Oh, Morgan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out, I wasn’t going to tell you.”
“It’s fine,” he said automatically. His eyes rested on Tatiana’s cherubic face for a second. Such innocence. She knew no pain. He turned back to Janessa. “Are you all right? Will you be all right to get home?”
She nodded politely, and it was as if the Janessa he had known for the past two years had somehow slipped back into place. “Of course, but Morgan-”
“I have to go,” he had stood, already slowly backing away. With a curt nod, he turned and purposefully walked back across the docks, in the direction he had come from with careful, measured steps.
It was a mistake.
It. Was. A. Mistake.
**********************************
His father had died on a Wednesday. It was an odd thing to be thinking about, after so many years, but there it was.
Since he became engaged to Lila four years ago, St. Patrick’s Day was no longer the black abyss it had been when he was younger. In fact, it had passed this year without even a thought to the significance. He even teased Lila about her shamrock green sweater, which she looked absolutely adorable and charming in, complemented by her fiery hair.
Lila.
No, it wasn’t true.
His heart beat in an uneven rhythm and he found he had to stop walking, leaning against a light post and taking huge gulps of the lake’s air. He felt his cell phone buzzing next to his thigh and ripped it out of his pocket. It was Kristina calling from the office. He flipped it open. “Hello?” His voice was croaking.
“Morgan? Are you okay? You’ve been gone forever.”
“I’m…I’m going to go home for the afternoon, Kris, I have a headache.”
“Another migraine?” She immediately went into Big Sister mode and her voice grew concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay to go home by yourself? Why don’t you have Lila go home with you-”
“No.” His voice was sharp, and he had the eerie sense of déjà vu. His conversation with Janessa…. “I’m fine. Don’t call Lila.”
Kristina was silent on the other end of the line for a good long moment. “Okay. Call me later, Morgan.”
He hung up the phone without answering her.
He could feel cool perspiration all over his skin.
Janessa was mistaken, he was sure of it. His blood boiled at the idea of Spencer betraying his wife- Nikolas hadn’t laid a hand on Spencer in years, but he might just beat his son senseless for acting so dishonorably to the wife and child he was supposed to protect. Morgan grimaced at the thought. Spencer had been an unruly boy, mischievous to the point of endangering himself or others at times, and Nikolas had, on more than one occasion, disciplined him with a firm hand. Spencer always took these punishments stoically, but Morgan knew how that had affected him. The fear it had instilled in him before Tatiana was born, about what kind of father he would be.
Morgan knew that Spencer would be no more capable of harming his precious daughter than a fly to a cat, but…he would never have expected him to be unfaithful either.
What had happened?
Morgan thought back over the years, when they were younger and things were far less complicated…for himself, anyway. But were they less complicated for Spencer? They had their comfortable roles, Morgan quiet and steady, always carefully guarding his emotions and Spencer lashing out in every direction, stampeding through life with all the grace and subtlety of a wild mustang. When Spencer had left for Oxford, and returned five years later, Janessa in tow, always gazing adoringly after him, Morgan had noticed a calming change in his cousin, and believed that he had finally laid his demons to rest.
But was it calmness, tranquility, or was it…Morgan concentrated, squeezing his eyes shut as he remembered Spencer over the last few years, marrying, becoming a father and finally taking on the responsibility of being a man. There was a shadow over him, a light that had gone out in his eyes, the same light that had fueled the reckless fire of his youth, but had also made him beautiful, wildly beautiful, in a way that used to worry Kristina. She had always been the rock and anchor for the two of them, the three misfits of their families.
But by that time, Morgan had already been married to Lila and was totally consumed by his love for her.
Oh, Lila.
No, it wasn’t true.
He thought back to the summer they met. He’d loved her instantly, though he hadn’t realized it at the time. He pushed her from his mind on the pretense of her being too young for him, but he had a choking fear of how strongly he felt for her. It was too much, too hot…but as was her way, Lila was undeniable.
Spencer saw that too. Morgan knew that Spencer lusted after her at first…. He had a crush on her, one might say. But if he had truly wanted her, would he not have stayed and fought? A man would be a fool to give up a woman like Lila Alcazar without giving every ounce of his soul.
Spencer had gotten over her. Morgan was sure of it. And, after all, Lila chose him.
Oh, Lila.
His heart ached at the thought of her with another man- any man. Lila sometimes felt like a shooting star, just out of his reach, and at other times, she felt so completely his own that he felt they could never be apart, surely it would kill him. He pictured Lila in his mind; an almost childlike serenity in her sleep, breathtaking and elegant, wild and warm with passion in his arms. No man could know her like that, no man could know the silken feel of her skin and the exquisite grip of her. No other man knew her heart. His love. His life.
No, Lila.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, dialing her familiar number, only to hear her voicemail again. Clicking the phone shut, he continued on towards his home, the home he shared with his wife.
It. Was. Not. True.
*******************************
Morgan returned home to an empty house. It was their housekeeper’s day off and Lila was nowhere to be found. He went straight to his living room sideboard and poured himself a generous tumbler of bourbon, knocking it straight back, and then another. The third he nursed slowly, and the ones that followed, but he sat in his favorite leather-armed chair, never allowing his glass to be empty. Morgan had an unusually spectacular constitution for liquor. He didn’t drink to an excess of losing self-control, having known what it did to his father so many years ago, but many nights in his youth, he had kept up with Spencer, who drank like a fish, and more often than not, ended up carrying him home.
His cell phone was placed in front of him on the glass coffee table. Lila never called him back and he ignored two calls and voicemails from Kristina.
Just after the sun set, before the night’s darkness had set in, he heard his front door open. “Lila?” He called out. His voice was surprisingly calm, easy. “I’m in the living room.”
He could hear the neat clicking of her high heels on the hardwood floor in the foyer as she got closer. She stood in the archway of the living room, her face carefully bland. She was as stunning as ever, dress perfectly setting off the neat flair of her hips and breasts, the stilettos complimenting the sweet shape of her legs. Her skin was luminescent in the dusk and her hair was slightly mussed- though that wasn’t completely unusual at the end of a long day. It gave her a vulnerable affect, and it made him want to touch her. He held out his hand. “Come here.”
He held his breath as she strode towards him. If she would just go to him, sink into his lap, and wrap her arms around his neck, he would kiss her senseless, and forget that today had ever happened. If he could breathe in her scent and feel her and be reassured that she was his, and no one else’s, his heart would stop threatening to hammer out of his chest. But she made no such move. She leaned over him, quickly, all too briefly, brushing her cool, dry lips across his cheek. “I need a long, hot shower, honey. I’ve been driving with the top down, and I feel all dusty.”
She smiled down at him, her lips perfectly pouted and her eyes soft, but Morgan couldn’t stop the prickling feeling on the back of his neck. He’d tried to breathe in her scent when she leaned over, but she’d been too quick for him. “Would you like some company?” He asked, deliberately softening his voice as much as he could. He felt like he was ready to pounce on her. He wanted to put his hands on her so badly that his fingers burned.
“I won’t be long.” Was there a slight quiver in her voice, or was he imagining it? Had she darted her eyes away?
“Please hurry,” he said. He flexed his fingers on the arm of the chair, curling them around his glass. “I missed you today.” She smiled at him again. Her face was as angelic as ever, but the sight absolutely chilled him. He downed the rest of his drink. “I love you, Lila.”
She looked at him very cautiously. “I love you, Morgan.”
The clicking of her heels grew dim as she retreated from him. When he heard the low whisper of the shower coming from their master bedroom upstairs, he set his glass aside and followed her upstairs.
The clothes she had worn today were dropped carelessly on their bed, shoes kicked off on the floor. He ran his fingers over the fine linen of her skirt. It was still warm from her body. It was amazing to him, that after all this time, even a hint of her fragrance on a scrap of material could make him hard. Her purse rattled on the bed next to the clothes, nearly making Morgan jump out of his skin. Her cell phone was vibrating. Morgan felt a cold sweat break out all over his skin. Who was calling his wife?
Shoving aside any respect he would have had for her privacy that morning, Morgan pulled the phone out of her bag, taking a deep breath before he looked at the caller id.
SC.
His temples throbbed, and blood rushed to his ears. SC could mean a great deal many people. It might not even be a person at all, perhaps it was an acronym for a shop Lila frequented.
But SC also meant Spencer Cassadine.
The phone stopped ringing.
The screen flashed.
2nd missed call from SC.
Morgan sucked in a breath, holding it for dear life as he flipped open the phone.
2 voicemails from SC.
1 text message from SC.
How much courage did he have? His thumb froze over the keypad of the phone for an interminable moment. He clicked on the text.
Morgan knows.
His stomach rolled, his head felt entirely too heavy for his body and for the first time in his life, Morgan completely saw red.
Morgan knows….Morgan knows…. The words repeated over and over in his head, in his cousin’s voice. His hands were shaking and he dropped the phone back on the bed. Morgan knows….Morgan has been the world’s biggest fool, but now he knows. He chuckled to himself, low and bitter, and the chuckles gave way to maniacal, side-splitting laughter, as he collapsed on the bed. He made horrible wheezing noises, and tears blurred his eyes and still he fell over on the bed, gasping with terrible peals of laughter.
The shower shut off, and Lila came out of the bathroom in a billow of steam, wrapped in a fluffy white towel. “Morgan? Are you okay?” She asked, as she stepped into her closet.
Morgan didn’t answer her, but his laughter died down and he simply watched her. God, she was so gorgeous. Her damp hair curled over her shoulder and her skin was flushed from the warm water as she smoothed lotion over her slender arms. She pulled on a casual pair of linen Capri pants and a silk top. My God, she’s getting ready for dinner. She’s going on as if nothing has happened. Morgan felt sick to his stomach at the sight of this woman. Soulless, deceitful bitch.
“Whore,” he said. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, until she slowly turned to him, her eyes wide.
“What?”
Morgan took a good long moment to control his breathing, and grasped the bedcovers next to him searching for the phone. He held it up. “Morgan knows, Lila,” his voice sounded nothing like his own. In a flash, he remembered being five years old and sneaking downstairs from his room late at night to see his father threatening an enemy at gunpoint in their own home. Their voices sounded eerily the same. “My own cousin. Whore.”
Lila’s eyes widened but her voice stayed completely level. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“SC- Spencer Cassadine,” Morgan said, through gritted teeth. “The fact that you would let any other man put his hands on you like that- but why did it have to be Spencer?” He choked back a sob of despair as he named the man who had been the closest thing he’d ever had to a brother, since his own brother had all but died, over twenty years ago.
Lila looked down at her hands, twisting them together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said again, but her voice was very small this time.
Blood pounded to his head in an angry rush. “You would lie, even now? It’s over, Lila,” His voice was raising, and still she looked at the ground. “Fucking look at me, dammit!” He crossed the room to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing an arch to her back and finally she looked up at him, fear and shame in her eyes.
“Morgan….” Her voice quavered, and it was a sound that would have killed him a day ago, but now it only fueled his anger. “I’m sorry, I’m….God, I’m disgusting-”
Damn her, she was still beautiful to him. “Whore,” he spat at her again, and watched with malicious pleasure as the word struck her porcelain features like a backhanded blow to the face. With a groan of pain, he crushed her to him, angrily pressing his lips to hers, shoving his tongue inside her mouth. He had never kissed her like this before. It couldn’t even be called a kiss. He held her head tightly in his hands, one hand firmly holding the back of her skull still, the other wrapped around the back of her neck. He didn’t pull back, even after she shoved ineffectually at his chest with her small fists. She moaned, and he knew she couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t either, but he wasn’t ready to let her go yet.
He lifted her against him, backing her up until she hit the wall and he stuck a knee between her thighs. Damn her. Damn her to hell, that she still made him hard. He wanted to fuck her against the wall, wanted to treat her as cheaply as she’d ever treated herself. He wanted her to feel disgusted, wanted her to feel low. Pushing himself back, he said, “Get out.”
She had collapsed against the wall, holding herself up on shaky legs, her lips were bruised and she was crying in earnest now. “Morgan, please, let me-”
“There is nothing you can say,” He said, clenching his fists at his side. She didn’t move. “Are you insane, look at me, Lila. I said get out!”
She wailed in front of him, “Please, Morgan-”
“I never want to see you again!” He exploded. “Lila, I swear if you’re not out of my sight in the next minute, I could snap your neck. Get. The fuck. Out! You‘re turning me into my father, is that what you want! No!”
Her eyes widened, and she froze in fear. With a roar of anguish, he reached for her again, scooping her up in his arms like a sack of potatoes. He practically ran down the front steps, ignoring her cries. At the front door, he dropped her outside, and slammed it in her face. Finally with the broad oak door as a barricade between them, he allowed himself to collapse, he wailed, he screamed, he beat at the floor.
Moments ticked by. His breathing returned to normal. His lips still burned from Lila’s mouth, but her cries had quieted on the other side of the door.
Morgan rose to his feet, and cracked the door open. Lila was gone.
He stepped outside, carefully shutting the door behind him and hesitantly called her name. “Lila?” There was no answer. He called out again, louder. Still no answer. She was gone.
He screamed her name to the heavens, cursing her, cursing Spencer, cursing his father and mother and everyone in the world who had betrayed and left him. And then he just screamed. He turned back to the monstrosity of a house his father had built and he had shared with Lila. Raising his leg, with one well-placed kick, he broke the front door clean off its hinges and headed back inside.
He poured himself another drink.
She was gone.
Rating/Warnings: r/very strong language and intense domestic situations
Word Count: 5,471
Summary: A Wednesday is just an ordinary day in the week.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Author's Note: This is Part III in a very interesting writing experiment I did with empressearwig. We wrote the reveal of Lila and Spencer's affair from four different point of view's. It's all the same story, the same day, from four very different perspectives. It was a lot of fun to collaborate with someone in this way, and our stories meet in the same places and veer off in others. Here you can find Spencer's and Janessa's parts.
A Wednesday is just an ordinary day in the week; its only real significance is being the halfway point between weekends. No one ever expects anything extraordinary to happen on a Wednesday.
No one ever expects anything catastrophic either.
So Morgan woke up much in the same way he did most days. He slept on the side of the bed that faced the door, and Lila slept on the side facing the window. Usually, they fell asleep cuddling close together (her feet were always cold at night and she liked to tuck them under his calves), but more often than not, he woke up sprawled on his stomach and she woke up curled into a ball facing the window, apart from each other.
He stirred and rolled over, looking down at his perfect, young wife. He smoothed a hand over her hair, like raw silk, and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “I love you,” he whispered against her ear while she slept soundly. “Forever.”
He rolled out of bed and into their walk-in dressing room to grab a pair of shorts and a tee shirt. Morgan started each day with a six mile run, followed by one hundred pull-ups and push-ups, and one thousand stomach crunches. Breakfast was an egg-white omelette and fruit. Every single day. Lila didn’t care for exercise, and more often than not, she’d indulge in a chocolate croissant or a raspberry strudel danish. She laughed at him for being so disciplined but he could feel the appreciation in her eyes and hear it in her voice when she ran her hands over his body at night, when they made love.
By the time he showered, dressed in a coal grey suit and headed into the dining room for his peppermint tea (Morgan never drank coffee), Lila was awake, but not dressed for the day, clad only in a silk, cream-colored robe. Morgan knew that she wore nothing underneath and it was nearly enough to scoop her up from the breakfast table and carry her back up to their bed and keep her there all day, schedules and work and responsibilities be damned. But he couldn’t do that, people were counting on him at the office (Kristina for one) and Lila had a full day, too, he was sure. Lunch with the hospital guild and appointments with the decorator who was renovating the guest suites and…well, he was never entirely sure just what it was she did all day, but she always seemed to have somewhere to be.
“Let‘s have dinner tonight. Maybe at the Lady Jane?” He asked her as he stood and buttoned his suit jacket.
She smiled up at him. “Whatever you want to do.”
He leaned down and kissed her, lingering only for a second so he wouldn’t get carried away, and then quickly, tenderly in the middle of her forehead. “I love you, Lila.” He brushed a fiery lock of hair off her brow and she smiled back at him, kissing his palm before he left.
******************************************************************************************
Kristina beat him to the office, like she always did. But then, Kristina didn’t run six miles every morning, or have someone laying next to her, to pull closer for one more cuddle before waking up. Morgan shook his head to himself as she barely lifted her head in greeting to him, still hard at work over her desk. His sister was almost blindingly beautiful, inky black eyes and lustrous black hair and perfect, glowing skin, without ever even a hint of make-up. She simply didn’t have time for it- it seemed she never had time for anything other than work. He hoped someday she would set work aside long enough to find someone to love, because she had more love to give than anyone he knew.
He hadn’t even realized he’d been staring until she glanced up from her desk, and gave him a double-take. “Are you going to stare at me all day, or are you going to take a look at the preliminary Q1 numbers?”
He chuckled to himself. “Good morning to you too, Kristina. What time did you get in today? Six-thirty? Or did you just sleep here last night?”
She rolled her eyes, but good-naturedly set down her pencil and regarded her brother with a playful smile. “Fine, brother, let’s have some pleasantries. Why are you in such a good mood today?”
He leaned back in his chair, grinning lazily. “Why not? I’m young, healthy, got a great family, birds are chirping, sun is shining. Life is pretty perfect for me.”
Kristina laughed. “You lead a charmed life, kid, that’s for sure. I mean, you’re about to open an office in Dubai, you were written up in Forbes this year….” She paused, smiling knowingly. “We’re fielding calls from the city council’s office asking for you to come on board-”
“I’m fine where I am,” Morgan interrupted. His eyes sobered for a second. “You know what politics did to our parents, Kris, we’re good with just running our little import company, right?”
“Our ‘little’ import company,” she chuckled. “And you’ve still got your ideals,” Kristina smiled a bit more genuinely this time. “Charmed life, little brother.”
“And don’t forget Lila,” he grinned again, just thinking of his wife.
She laughed. “Of course don’t forget her.” And she rolled her eyes in the way of sisters who are genuinely happy to hear about their sibling’s happy love lives, but would rather not hear it every single day.
“Some day, Kris, it’s going to hit you…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, I hear it from you, I hear it from Molly, even Mom has been asking me if Hector Santos is calling lately!” Kristina rubbed her hands over her eyes in frustration and Morgan laughed.
“Now that’s bad!” Their mother, Alexis, had done her best to ingrain a fierce independence in her girls, terrified that they would ever be dependent on any man. Molly had her own brand of steel-spined strength, but she had been completely dependent on Cameron Spencer since she was fifteen (just as he was to her). Kristina was Alexis’s real pride and joy, and everyone knew it. “So….” He shrugged. “How about it, Kris? Has Hector been calling lately?”
Kristina looked away. “No.” It seemed she did not care to elaborate further, so Morgan backed off. She cleared her throat. “And Lila? Are things really as perfect as you say?”
Morgan smiled. “Perfect? Probably not. But I’m happy, Kris. Really I am.” He emphasized the word really. Kristina and Molly had done their duties for Lila before their wedding, with Kristina planning her shower and Molly standing as her matron-of-honor. His sisters did it more for him than they did for her. Kristina was always kind to Lila, but she held herself back a little. Which was fine, Morgan knew they didn’t have much in common, and it was enough that his sisters showed his wife the respect she deserved. Molly was sweeter to Lila, and tried to be her link into the upper crust circles she so desperately wanted to be a part of, but Molly would never side with Lila over Lana, and Lana despised Lila. It had been the source of his first argument with Robin, the way that Lana treated his wife.
Robin had been like a close second mother to Morgan growing up. She was one of the few people who had good memories of his father and did her best to keep them safe for him. But since they were teenagers, Lila and Lana were like oil and vinegar, and one time, Morgan had to all but throw the Drake family out of his home when a Sunday dinner turned ugly with the insults between the girls. Shock and hurt crossed Robin’s face, but she gathered her grown up children and filed them out of his house.
He shook his head out of his thoughts. “I, um….I think we’re going to try to start having a family soon.”
Her eyes widened, and she said, “Huh.”
“Huh? That’s all you have to say?”
Kristina shrugged. “I mean….What’s the rush, Morgan?”
“We’ve been married three years,” he answered. “I think we’ve waited long enough.”
Kristina looked somewhere over his shoulder, the way she did when she was trying to collect her thoughts and not rush out with the first thing on her mind. “Morgan, I mean…Lila’s only twenty-six. Are you sure you guys are ready to be parents?”
“She’s ready. We both are,” Morgan leaned forward and looked his sister in the eye. “Kristina, you’ve got to just understand how much I love this woman. Creating a child with her, bonding us even that much more….I honestly can’t wait to see a baby of ours.” He cleared his throat. This conversation had become much heavier than they usually got before lunch. He stood up again, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair. “I’ve got to get running. I have to be at a meeting downtown by eleven, and I’ll never get any work done if I’m gabbing with you all morning.”
Kristina rolled her eyes and laughed, seemingly relieved that he lightened the mood. But as he reached the door of their office, she stopped him, “Morgan? I’m really happy for you, you know.”
He smiled. “Thanks, big sister. I can always count on you.”
******************************************************************************************
He was whistling while he headed back to the office. His good mood had only improved at his meeting- a deal he’d been working on for months was finally falling into place. Afterwards, he tried to call Lila to see if she wanted to get lunch at Kelley’s, but her phone had gone straight to voicemail. Still, the day was warm, with a nearly golden kind of sunlight, and he felt no need to rush back to the office. Morgan loosened his tie.
Up ahead of him, he saw a tiny figure with a smooth cap of blond hair, perched on one of the dock’s benches. She was cradling an angel-faced baby with the same platinum head. Janessa and Tatiana, Spencer’s wife and child. Morgan had a great deal of respect for Janessa. She had a calming effect on his constantly brooding cousin- or at least, she had for a while. Lately, Spencer seemed as restless as ever. And as Morgan got closer, he saw deep lines of worry crossing Janessa’s usually serene face as she tried to soothe the baby who was fussing uncontrollably. He couldn’t help but wonder if whatever had been troubling Spencer lately was beginning to affect his family.
“Janessa?”
She turned, quickly wiping tears away from her eyes, and attempting a weak smile. “Hello Morgan.”
Tatiana was squirming in her mother’s arms. She was the perfect minature of Janessa- no dark Cassadine feature to be had on the child. Morgan had heard once that babies could not relax if the person who held them was upset and he reached out his fingers to the little girl in reassurance. She took hold of one of his long brown fingers in her chubby fist, holding tightly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just an overwhelmed new mother moment and needed to cry.” Her voice was brittle, betraying any kind of casual air she was trying to strike.
“You’re sure it’s nothing more?” He said, keeping his voice carefully low. He ran his broad thumb over Tatiana’s tiny fingers, and wondered if his own child would have little tendrils of soft red curls like Lila.
“Yes, you’re sweet to worry, but I’m fine. We’re fine.” Janessa cuddled her baby daughter more closely, and Morgan almost saw her drawing strength from her child.
Would Lila be like this, when they had a baby? Would she be overwhelmed, crying on the docks by herself? “I can call Spencer. You shouldn’t be out here alone.” He made his own private vow that Lila would never feel so alone out here when she was a young mother of an infant, and he put his hand in his pocket to reach for his cell phone.
Janessa shook her head so violently that Tatiana jumped in her arms. “No. Don’t.”
Morgan paused, hand still in his pocket. “Why not?”
She laughed then, a wild chuckle that was so unladylike, so very un-Janessalike, Morgan could feel a peculiar stillness settle over him. “I don’t really think he would care to know.”
He cocked his head to the side, silent for a moment and studied his cousin’s wife. Something was wrong- very wrong. He lowered his voice, gentling his tone the way he would if he talked to a child. “What are you talking about? Spencer adores you and Tatiana, if something is wrong-”
“But he’s what’s wrong!” She snapped, the baby once again began squirming after just calming down.
“I don’t understand.” He wanted to reach for her, to comfort her. Being raised in a family of such strong women, his first instinct was always to protect, but he held back. He had never seen quiet, sweet Janessa so broken and unhinged.
Her eyes seemed to look right through him as she spoke. “I went to see him at the office. I thought it would be a nice break for him, he’s been working so hard lately. And I wanted to see him. I love him so much, you know. He and our baby girl are my whole world….So, I went to Cassadine and up to his floor. His secretary- Mrs. Malone- she’s always so nice to me, but today she tried to stop me from seeing him and I didn’t understand why, but then I opened the door and saw it and now I can’t stop seeing it and it hurts so much that I don’t know how I’m going to be able to bear it.”
She was completely rambling, one word streaming right into the next, she hardly took a breath and Morgan wanted to take her by the shoulders and steady her but he was afraid that one touch would have her falling apart completely. Her eyes nearly looked pure black, they were so dilated. “Saw what?” It was practically a whisper.
“My husband was having sex on his desk,” the word sex broke on a strangled sob.
Morgan’s pulse quickened, temper rising color in his face. He swore, under his breath, the word practically a curse. “Do you know who the woman was?” He asked Janessa, but immediately thought better of the question. “I’m sorry Janessa, that’s a completely inappropriate ques-”
“It was Lila!” The word hit him…and it felt like it came from another place, said in another language. Like she hadn’t just said Spencer, your cousin and lifelong best friend, was having sex with Lila, your wife. No, Janessa was mistaken.
It was a mistake.
The blue of Janessa’s eyes slowly came back into focus, and as she looked at him once more, realizing who she was talking to and where she was…who she was, horror crossed her face, and shame. “Oh, Morgan, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out, I wasn’t going to tell you.”
“It’s fine,” he said automatically. His eyes rested on Tatiana’s cherubic face for a second. Such innocence. She knew no pain. He turned back to Janessa. “Are you all right? Will you be all right to get home?”
She nodded politely, and it was as if the Janessa he had known for the past two years had somehow slipped back into place. “Of course, but Morgan-”
“I have to go,” he had stood, already slowly backing away. With a curt nod, he turned and purposefully walked back across the docks, in the direction he had come from with careful, measured steps.
It was a mistake.
It. Was. A. Mistake.
**********************************
His father had died on a Wednesday. It was an odd thing to be thinking about, after so many years, but there it was.
Since he became engaged to Lila four years ago, St. Patrick’s Day was no longer the black abyss it had been when he was younger. In fact, it had passed this year without even a thought to the significance. He even teased Lila about her shamrock green sweater, which she looked absolutely adorable and charming in, complemented by her fiery hair.
Lila.
No, it wasn’t true.
His heart beat in an uneven rhythm and he found he had to stop walking, leaning against a light post and taking huge gulps of the lake’s air. He felt his cell phone buzzing next to his thigh and ripped it out of his pocket. It was Kristina calling from the office. He flipped it open. “Hello?” His voice was croaking.
“Morgan? Are you okay? You’ve been gone forever.”
“I’m…I’m going to go home for the afternoon, Kris, I have a headache.”
“Another migraine?” She immediately went into Big Sister mode and her voice grew concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay to go home by yourself? Why don’t you have Lila go home with you-”
“No.” His voice was sharp, and he had the eerie sense of déjà vu. His conversation with Janessa…. “I’m fine. Don’t call Lila.”
Kristina was silent on the other end of the line for a good long moment. “Okay. Call me later, Morgan.”
He hung up the phone without answering her.
He could feel cool perspiration all over his skin.
Janessa was mistaken, he was sure of it. His blood boiled at the idea of Spencer betraying his wife- Nikolas hadn’t laid a hand on Spencer in years, but he might just beat his son senseless for acting so dishonorably to the wife and child he was supposed to protect. Morgan grimaced at the thought. Spencer had been an unruly boy, mischievous to the point of endangering himself or others at times, and Nikolas had, on more than one occasion, disciplined him with a firm hand. Spencer always took these punishments stoically, but Morgan knew how that had affected him. The fear it had instilled in him before Tatiana was born, about what kind of father he would be.
Morgan knew that Spencer would be no more capable of harming his precious daughter than a fly to a cat, but…he would never have expected him to be unfaithful either.
What had happened?
Morgan thought back over the years, when they were younger and things were far less complicated…for himself, anyway. But were they less complicated for Spencer? They had their comfortable roles, Morgan quiet and steady, always carefully guarding his emotions and Spencer lashing out in every direction, stampeding through life with all the grace and subtlety of a wild mustang. When Spencer had left for Oxford, and returned five years later, Janessa in tow, always gazing adoringly after him, Morgan had noticed a calming change in his cousin, and believed that he had finally laid his demons to rest.
But was it calmness, tranquility, or was it…Morgan concentrated, squeezing his eyes shut as he remembered Spencer over the last few years, marrying, becoming a father and finally taking on the responsibility of being a man. There was a shadow over him, a light that had gone out in his eyes, the same light that had fueled the reckless fire of his youth, but had also made him beautiful, wildly beautiful, in a way that used to worry Kristina. She had always been the rock and anchor for the two of them, the three misfits of their families.
But by that time, Morgan had already been married to Lila and was totally consumed by his love for her.
Oh, Lila.
No, it wasn’t true.
He thought back to the summer they met. He’d loved her instantly, though he hadn’t realized it at the time. He pushed her from his mind on the pretense of her being too young for him, but he had a choking fear of how strongly he felt for her. It was too much, too hot…but as was her way, Lila was undeniable.
Spencer saw that too. Morgan knew that Spencer lusted after her at first…. He had a crush on her, one might say. But if he had truly wanted her, would he not have stayed and fought? A man would be a fool to give up a woman like Lila Alcazar without giving every ounce of his soul.
Spencer had gotten over her. Morgan was sure of it. And, after all, Lila chose him.
Oh, Lila.
His heart ached at the thought of her with another man- any man. Lila sometimes felt like a shooting star, just out of his reach, and at other times, she felt so completely his own that he felt they could never be apart, surely it would kill him. He pictured Lila in his mind; an almost childlike serenity in her sleep, breathtaking and elegant, wild and warm with passion in his arms. No man could know her like that, no man could know the silken feel of her skin and the exquisite grip of her. No other man knew her heart. His love. His life.
No, Lila.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, dialing her familiar number, only to hear her voicemail again. Clicking the phone shut, he continued on towards his home, the home he shared with his wife.
It. Was. Not. True.
*******************************
Morgan returned home to an empty house. It was their housekeeper’s day off and Lila was nowhere to be found. He went straight to his living room sideboard and poured himself a generous tumbler of bourbon, knocking it straight back, and then another. The third he nursed slowly, and the ones that followed, but he sat in his favorite leather-armed chair, never allowing his glass to be empty. Morgan had an unusually spectacular constitution for liquor. He didn’t drink to an excess of losing self-control, having known what it did to his father so many years ago, but many nights in his youth, he had kept up with Spencer, who drank like a fish, and more often than not, ended up carrying him home.
His cell phone was placed in front of him on the glass coffee table. Lila never called him back and he ignored two calls and voicemails from Kristina.
Just after the sun set, before the night’s darkness had set in, he heard his front door open. “Lila?” He called out. His voice was surprisingly calm, easy. “I’m in the living room.”
He could hear the neat clicking of her high heels on the hardwood floor in the foyer as she got closer. She stood in the archway of the living room, her face carefully bland. She was as stunning as ever, dress perfectly setting off the neat flair of her hips and breasts, the stilettos complimenting the sweet shape of her legs. Her skin was luminescent in the dusk and her hair was slightly mussed- though that wasn’t completely unusual at the end of a long day. It gave her a vulnerable affect, and it made him want to touch her. He held out his hand. “Come here.”
He held his breath as she strode towards him. If she would just go to him, sink into his lap, and wrap her arms around his neck, he would kiss her senseless, and forget that today had ever happened. If he could breathe in her scent and feel her and be reassured that she was his, and no one else’s, his heart would stop threatening to hammer out of his chest. But she made no such move. She leaned over him, quickly, all too briefly, brushing her cool, dry lips across his cheek. “I need a long, hot shower, honey. I’ve been driving with the top down, and I feel all dusty.”
She smiled down at him, her lips perfectly pouted and her eyes soft, but Morgan couldn’t stop the prickling feeling on the back of his neck. He’d tried to breathe in her scent when she leaned over, but she’d been too quick for him. “Would you like some company?” He asked, deliberately softening his voice as much as he could. He felt like he was ready to pounce on her. He wanted to put his hands on her so badly that his fingers burned.
“I won’t be long.” Was there a slight quiver in her voice, or was he imagining it? Had she darted her eyes away?
“Please hurry,” he said. He flexed his fingers on the arm of the chair, curling them around his glass. “I missed you today.” She smiled at him again. Her face was as angelic as ever, but the sight absolutely chilled him. He downed the rest of his drink. “I love you, Lila.”
She looked at him very cautiously. “I love you, Morgan.”
The clicking of her heels grew dim as she retreated from him. When he heard the low whisper of the shower coming from their master bedroom upstairs, he set his glass aside and followed her upstairs.
The clothes she had worn today were dropped carelessly on their bed, shoes kicked off on the floor. He ran his fingers over the fine linen of her skirt. It was still warm from her body. It was amazing to him, that after all this time, even a hint of her fragrance on a scrap of material could make him hard. Her purse rattled on the bed next to the clothes, nearly making Morgan jump out of his skin. Her cell phone was vibrating. Morgan felt a cold sweat break out all over his skin. Who was calling his wife?
Shoving aside any respect he would have had for her privacy that morning, Morgan pulled the phone out of her bag, taking a deep breath before he looked at the caller id.
SC.
His temples throbbed, and blood rushed to his ears. SC could mean a great deal many people. It might not even be a person at all, perhaps it was an acronym for a shop Lila frequented.
But SC also meant Spencer Cassadine.
The phone stopped ringing.
The screen flashed.
2nd missed call from SC.
Morgan sucked in a breath, holding it for dear life as he flipped open the phone.
2 voicemails from SC.
1 text message from SC.
How much courage did he have? His thumb froze over the keypad of the phone for an interminable moment. He clicked on the text.
Morgan knows.
His stomach rolled, his head felt entirely too heavy for his body and for the first time in his life, Morgan completely saw red.
Morgan knows….Morgan knows…. The words repeated over and over in his head, in his cousin’s voice. His hands were shaking and he dropped the phone back on the bed. Morgan knows….Morgan has been the world’s biggest fool, but now he knows. He chuckled to himself, low and bitter, and the chuckles gave way to maniacal, side-splitting laughter, as he collapsed on the bed. He made horrible wheezing noises, and tears blurred his eyes and still he fell over on the bed, gasping with terrible peals of laughter.
The shower shut off, and Lila came out of the bathroom in a billow of steam, wrapped in a fluffy white towel. “Morgan? Are you okay?” She asked, as she stepped into her closet.
Morgan didn’t answer her, but his laughter died down and he simply watched her. God, she was so gorgeous. Her damp hair curled over her shoulder and her skin was flushed from the warm water as she smoothed lotion over her slender arms. She pulled on a casual pair of linen Capri pants and a silk top. My God, she’s getting ready for dinner. She’s going on as if nothing has happened. Morgan felt sick to his stomach at the sight of this woman. Soulless, deceitful bitch.
“Whore,” he said. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, until she slowly turned to him, her eyes wide.
“What?”
Morgan took a good long moment to control his breathing, and grasped the bedcovers next to him searching for the phone. He held it up. “Morgan knows, Lila,” his voice sounded nothing like his own. In a flash, he remembered being five years old and sneaking downstairs from his room late at night to see his father threatening an enemy at gunpoint in their own home. Their voices sounded eerily the same. “My own cousin. Whore.”
Lila’s eyes widened but her voice stayed completely level. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“SC- Spencer Cassadine,” Morgan said, through gritted teeth. “The fact that you would let any other man put his hands on you like that- but why did it have to be Spencer?” He choked back a sob of despair as he named the man who had been the closest thing he’d ever had to a brother, since his own brother had all but died, over twenty years ago.
Lila looked down at her hands, twisting them together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said again, but her voice was very small this time.
Blood pounded to his head in an angry rush. “You would lie, even now? It’s over, Lila,” His voice was raising, and still she looked at the ground. “Fucking look at me, dammit!” He crossed the room to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing an arch to her back and finally she looked up at him, fear and shame in her eyes.
“Morgan….” Her voice quavered, and it was a sound that would have killed him a day ago, but now it only fueled his anger. “I’m sorry, I’m….God, I’m disgusting-”
Damn her, she was still beautiful to him. “Whore,” he spat at her again, and watched with malicious pleasure as the word struck her porcelain features like a backhanded blow to the face. With a groan of pain, he crushed her to him, angrily pressing his lips to hers, shoving his tongue inside her mouth. He had never kissed her like this before. It couldn’t even be called a kiss. He held her head tightly in his hands, one hand firmly holding the back of her skull still, the other wrapped around the back of her neck. He didn’t pull back, even after she shoved ineffectually at his chest with her small fists. She moaned, and he knew she couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t either, but he wasn’t ready to let her go yet.
He lifted her against him, backing her up until she hit the wall and he stuck a knee between her thighs. Damn her. Damn her to hell, that she still made him hard. He wanted to fuck her against the wall, wanted to treat her as cheaply as she’d ever treated herself. He wanted her to feel disgusted, wanted her to feel low. Pushing himself back, he said, “Get out.”
She had collapsed against the wall, holding herself up on shaky legs, her lips were bruised and she was crying in earnest now. “Morgan, please, let me-”
“There is nothing you can say,” He said, clenching his fists at his side. She didn’t move. “Are you insane, look at me, Lila. I said get out!”
She wailed in front of him, “Please, Morgan-”
“I never want to see you again!” He exploded. “Lila, I swear if you’re not out of my sight in the next minute, I could snap your neck. Get. The fuck. Out! You‘re turning me into my father, is that what you want! No!”
Her eyes widened, and she froze in fear. With a roar of anguish, he reached for her again, scooping her up in his arms like a sack of potatoes. He practically ran down the front steps, ignoring her cries. At the front door, he dropped her outside, and slammed it in her face. Finally with the broad oak door as a barricade between them, he allowed himself to collapse, he wailed, he screamed, he beat at the floor.
Moments ticked by. His breathing returned to normal. His lips still burned from Lila’s mouth, but her cries had quieted on the other side of the door.
Morgan rose to his feet, and cracked the door open. Lila was gone.
He stepped outside, carefully shutting the door behind him and hesitantly called her name. “Lila?” There was no answer. He called out again, louder. Still no answer. She was gone.
He screamed her name to the heavens, cursing her, cursing Spencer, cursing his father and mother and everyone in the world who had betrayed and left him. And then he just screamed. He turned back to the monstrosity of a house his father had built and he had shared with Lila. Raising his leg, with one well-placed kick, he broke the front door clean off its hinges and headed back inside.
He poured himself another drink.
She was gone.