Morgan

Chapter Seven- Complicated

I arrive back at the house a half an hour later. I see the car in the drive but it's a rental. Why the hell was Annie here, and where were the children?! I had last spoken with Jamie this morning and she was spending the day in Central Park having a picnic with Annie's family. She hadn't mentioned this visit or the fact Annie may not be there.

I pay the cab driver and walk up the driveway. My heart beats a little faster with the apprehension. I tousle the ends of my hair, and luckily for me it's dried already in the Arizona heat. Thank goodness. I didn't want to have to explain that.

I unlock the door, and push inside, dumping my purse on the table to the left, and stepping out of my heals, one at a time.

"There you are" Annie observed, coming from the family room. "Wow Morgan..." she says judgementally, whilst looking me up and down "you really expect me to to believe that you didn't wear that outfit to seduce someone?" She asks, looking agitated and hurt.

I look up to her as I dump my last heel, and stand back up "believe what you want to believe Annie... I know you won't believe a word I say anyway"

I slip my jacket from my shoulders and throw it over the back of the chair beside the door.

"Where are my children" I ask, looking to her a little more seriously.

She raises an eyebrow "our children are with my parents"

I walk by her, and I enter the kitchen. I take out a glass from the cupboard as she follows me. She watches me from the doorway. I open the refrigerator and pour water into it from a filtered jug, and slam it shut, turning and taking a sip. Her eyes are still firmly on me as I set the glass down.

"Why are you here" I ask, taking her in fully. She is as casual as she gets, in tight dark denim jeans and an olive green cami, her dark hair pulled into a short pony tail. She looked good, she was a sight that would once make me feel so content, my person, my home, my love, and now I looked at her and all I saw was pain. My pain, her pain, our pain, and it swallowed me up every damn time. The grief of letting go, loosening our ties, and relinquishing each other.

Not that she relinquished me.

"I had to come back to sign some urgent contracts for the gallery here..." she says moving over toward me and reaching for my arm. Her fingers brush my bare shoulder.

"And did you sign any divorce papers why you were at it" I ask.

She looks to me displeased, her eyes narrowing a little "I told you Morgan... I'm not divorcing you" she says defiantly as her fingers stroke my skin. I look sideways and observe as they slide down my arm, to my hip, and then she grips me and pulls me against her with force "I don't know who you wore this for tonight... but I don't want you seeing them again" she demands.

I try and pull away but she forces me back, this time more aggressively, to the point my nose is inches from hers and my eyes wildly take her in "Annie stop it..." I demand.

She looks into my eyes, hers are filled with intensity, love, lust, anger, quite literally every feeling my presence and this outfit was pulling from her. She hated not knowing what I was doing here, and the thought of my life starting again without her. She had no control, and she hated it.

When I first met Annie I loved her intense and dominant personality, it flirted with mine almost explosively, and we had a fiery and extremely intense courtship. Most of the time her dominance turned me on, but I admit, now that I was pulling away, the nature of her personality wasn't helping me to leave quietly.

"Morgan you are my wife... and I know you are here pretending to be single... like I don't exist but I fucking do... and I am here to remind you of that fact..."