Page 36 of Breakaway
“And this is my house.”
“This isn’t working.” She sighed angrily. “The only reason you took me in was because you felt bad for me after losing my mom.”
“That’s not true. You are family, and I take care of family.”
“I don’t need taken care of!” She knew moving here and in with her uncle and his family would be an adjustment, but this was too much.
“I hate being this guy, but my house, my rules.” He sighed. “Morgan, I forbid you from bringing guys home to spend the night.”
She chuckled, even as her anger bubbled up inside her. “There is so much wrong with that statement. First of all, he didn’t spend the night, which is why I was escorting him to the door. Second, are all guys banned, or just Travis?”
“All guys, obviously. My children live here, too, and they don’t need to be witness to your poor decision making. But since you asked, definitely NOT Travis!”
“You might want to fix your halo, it’s crooked,” Morgan scoffed at his comments about her poor decision making. She had heard the stories. Her uncle hadn’t been a saint when he was younger. She couldn’t help herself as she added, “So, if I brought home a med student, you’d be okay with us playing doctor in my bedroom?”
“Absolutely not!” he shouted.
“Because you forbid me?” She goaded him.
“Exactly.” He nodded angrily.
“Do you hear yourself? You FORBID me. That’s funny. Because for one, this is supposedly my house, as well. Two, I am an adult and can make my own decisions. And three, you can’t forbid me from doing anything, or anyone for that matter. You aren’t my dad!”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. She drew in a quick breath as the words she spewed hurt her heart.
Uncle Sam just sat there, staring at her. His mouth was a straight line and his jaw tightly clenched.
She hadn’t planned to say that to him; it had just bubbled out. It was true that he wasn’t her dad, but he had been the closest thing she’d ever had to one. Now it was too late to take the words back, even though she knew she’d hurt him. She may as well have punched him in the gut.
Grabbing her purse, she ran to the front door. “I’m going out.”
“Where are you going?” he called.
“Out.” She slammed the door behind her and ran to her car.
She had no idea where she was going; she just couldn’t stay here.
Tears ran down her face, maybe from anger or maybe because she knew how much she had just hurt him. She drove until she was at Travis’s hotel. Still crying, she texted him.
MORGAN: Are you home?
TRAVIS: I am. What’s up?
MORGAN: I need you.
TRAVIS: Where are you? Are you okay?
MORGAN: In the parking lot.
TRAVIS: I’ll be right down.
The only place she wanted to be was in Travis’s arms, and soon he was at her car door. He opened her door and pulled her up into a hug. “Hey.” He gently wiped away some of her tears and smiled sweetly. “What happened?”
“I had a huge fight with my uncle,” she said through her crying.
“About the other night?”
She nodded. “I said some awful things to him.” She whimpered.