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“Thanks.” I glanced around the room, searching for the right moment. Finally, I reached into my pocket, fingers brushing against the envelope. “I have something for you.”
She shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. “That’s not necessary. I told Erika she didn’t need to get us a gift.”
I leaned in closer, lowering my voice so only she could hear. “This isn’t from me or Erika. It’s from Michael.”
Her smile faded instantly, replaced by a flicker of something unreadable. “Keep it,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m married now.”
“I promised him I’d deliver it,” I insisted, feeling the weight of my brother’s request. “He’ll kill me if I don’t.”
Morgan sighed, her resolve weakening. Reluctantly, she accepted the plain white envelope, slipping it into the bridal money bag she clutched tightly. The gesture was swift, almost as if she wanted to forget it had ever happened.
Just then, Slade approached with a drink in hand. His easy smile and relaxed demeanor made it clear he hadn’t noticed the exchange. He handed Morgan the glass, and she took a small sip, her expression smoothing into one of practiced calm as Slade turned to me, initiating casual conversation.
As we talked, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through Morgan’s mind. The envelope might be hidden away, but its presence hung between us like a silent specter.
Erika yawned, the leather seat beneath her creaking as she shifted. The weight of the day hung heavy on her eyelids.
“Tired?” I asked, glancing over at her.
“I’ve been up for hours,” she replied, stifling another yawn. “We should’ve gotten a hotel room in Southampton.”
“I would’ve agreed,” I said, sharing her regret. “But it was a lovely wedding.”
It was despite the heavy heart I had for my brother. He would forever love Morgan and now she was married. I feared that he would spend the rest of his life pining for her while she moved forward.
She eyed me curiously. “What did you give Morgan?”
“A letter from Michael,” I answered, watching her reaction.
Erika frowned, her tone slightly chastising. “You shouldn’t have.”
I had to give it to her. I promised my brother and I wouldn’t lie to him. Whatever Morgan chose – to read it – not to read it – was her choice but she needed to know how Michael felt. He would always be waiting in the wings.
I cleared my throat. “She didn’t have to take it.”
“She did. Morgan isn’t rude. What did it say?”
“I have no idea. I wouldn’t violate Michael’s trust by reading it.”
Erika smirked. “I could always ask her.”
“He loves her,” I admitted, my voice softening.
“But she’s married,” Erika protested.
“He knows that, and he’d never interfere. She has to come to him.”
Erika yawned again, her exhaustion catching up to her. “She won’t. She loves Slade.”
There was a pause, a tension in the air. I broke the silence, trying to steer the conversation back to us. “Are you coming to my place tonight?”
“I’ll go wherever you bring me. I’m so tired,” she murmured, her head resting back against the seat.
I smiled, recalling a moment from earlier. “I liked when we slow danced together.”
“Where did you learn to dance?” she asked, her interest piqued.
I smirked. “My mother made all three of us take dancing lessons. They’ve come in handy over the years at the many functions we attend,” I explained, a touch of nostalgia in my voice.
