Hearts on Broadway (Book 2)

Chapter 5 - A Quiet Struggle

The house was still and quiet, save for the soft gurgling noises coming from Jackson's crib. Morgan sat at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee, the steam curling up from the mug in lazy spirals. The early morning sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the kitchen, but the warmth didn't reach him.

He glanced at the clock. It was 7:00 AM, and Georgie still hadn't come downstairs. Not that he expected her to anymore. Lately, she stayed in bed longer, emerging only after the day was already in full swing. When they first brought Jackson home, she was up before him, eager to start the day. But now, it felt like she was retreating further and further into herself, leaving Morgan to pick up the pieces.

He looked down at Jackson, who was kicking his tiny legs in the high chair, a wide grin on his face. Morgan couldn't help but smile back. At least Jackson seemed happy. At least he had that.

"Morning, bud," Morgan said softly, reaching over to tickle Jackson's belly. Jackson let out a high-pitched giggle, his blue eyes sparkling with joy.

Morgan stood up and began preparing Jackson's breakfast, moving through the routine that had become second nature to him. He mashed up some fruit, warmed a bottle, and kept up a steady stream of conversation with Jackson, even though the baby couldn't respond yet.

"You're growing fast, little man," Morgan murmured as he fed Jackson, watching his son's chubby fingers wrap around the spoon. "I bet you'll be crawling in no time."

As Jackson ate, Morgan found his mind wandering back to Georgie. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was slipping away from them, something fragile and precious. Every day, he watched her retreat further into herself, and no matter how hard he tried to reach her, she seemed to drift further out of his grasp.

He missed her—really missed her. Not just the version of her that was his partner, but the woman he fell in love with. The one who laughed with him, teased him, sang with him. The one who used to steal his guitar and playfully challenge him to a duet. Now, the silence between them stretched like a wide, yawning gulf, and no matter how much he wanted to close the distance, he couldn't.

Once Jackson had finished his breakfast, Morgan cleaned up and took him into the living room to play. He laid out a blanket on the floor, scattering Jackson's toys around them. As Jackson babbled and reached for the colorful blocks, Morgan watched him, his heart swelling with love for his son. But the joy was tinged with something else—a quiet sadness, a longing for something that seemed just out of reach.

He glanced toward the stairs, wondering if Georgie would come down soon. Part of him wanted to go up and wake her, to insist that she spend time with Jackson, with them. But he knew better. Every time he tried to push her, she pulled away even more, and the last thing he wanted was to drive her further into the darkness he could see creeping into her eyes.

The day dragged on, each hour stretching into the next. Morgan handled the usual routine—feeding Jackson, playing with him, putting him down for his nap. Georgie stayed upstairs most of the morning, only coming down briefly to grab a cup of coffee before disappearing again.

By midday, Morgan's frustration had begun to simmer just beneath the surface. He had been patient. He had given her space. But as the weeks passed, her absence felt heavier, like a weight pressing down on his chest. He wasn't just worried about Georgie; he was worried about their family, about what this distance was doing to them.

In the early afternoon, Jackson woke from his nap, his face flushed and his hair sticking up in soft tufts. Morgan lifted him from the crib, bouncing him gently as he carried him downstairs. As they reached the living room, Morgan heard the soft thud of footsteps on the stairs. He turned to see Georgie standing in the doorway, her expression distant, her eyes clouded with something he couldn't quite understand.