Page 48 of The Ex Effect (Meet Cute in Minnesota #1)

THIRTY-TWO

FRANKIE

I dropped my carry-on bag onto Morgan’s front steps and gazed at a pajama-clad Morgan standing in her doorway with a dropped mouth and wide eyes.

“I … No… What are you doing here?” she asked, her hand not leaving her mouth.

A few hours ago, I had the same thought. Although I was asking myself that question as I stared at the gate numbers at the airport. For two hours, I paced that tiny airport, and two thoughts came to mind:

One, I was so excited about the job at Birch & Willow .

Two, that excitement paled next to the heartbreak of leaving Morgan.

And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was also not quite ready to leave this town for the New York City hustle.

From Zoey’s Bakery to the guy who owned the sub shop to Delilah at the flower store, this place had grown on me this summer.

It filled a void in me I didn’t fully realize I had, made me realize I had been equating this town to my subpar parents and thought they were the same.

They were definitely not. Morgan always said this place was like family, but it took coming back as an adult to experience it myself.

The rain had turned into a soft mist, but I was still getting soaked. Morgan hadn’t so much as blinked. “Can I come in?”

“Oh my God. Yes, yes.” Morgan snapped out of her trance and tugged me inside. “I just made tea. Want tea? You look cold. I know it’s warm outside, though. I’ve got chamomile and mint and probably some lemon in the back.”

Morgan’s words were rushed, her eyes darting back and forth like she was daring herself to snap out of a dream.

“No, I’m good.” I pushed my bag to the wall with the side of my foot and closed the door.

“Where’s the rest of your luggage?” she asked, still unblinking.

“Halfway to New York by now.” What a draining day.

The last few hours felt like some of the longest of my life.

Decisions and methodical thinking were never my specialty.

I’d always trusted my gut, and my gut never let me down.

Logically, going to New York made sense.

Professionally, it made sense. Economically, it made sense.

But when my gut kept nipping at me, I had to listen.

After pacing the airport before my flight, I had gone down to baggage claim and watched the luggage carousal spin for two hours.

I weighed my options, prayed for clarity, pictured what my life might look like if I stayed here, pictured what it would look like back in New York.

Something about going to New York didn’t feel right.

But nothing about leaving Morgan felt right.

Morgan reached for my hand. Her soft touches swiping across my skin snapped me back into focus. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“No,” I whispered. It was the truth. My head was pounding, my mouth was dry, my body fatigued. The only thing I wanted to do was to curl up onto Morgan and have Morgan tell me everything would be okay.

Morgan dragged me to the couch and sat down.

I hesitated. I was emotionally drained, wanted to rest, but also needed movement.

My limbs were bursting with energy, even though my brain was tired.

When Morgan crisscrossed her legs and pulled her overstuffed fuzzy pillow into her chest, I exhaled and slid in next to her.

“What happened?” Morgan asked, her voice soft.

Where do I even begin? How do I explain that I took a mental inventory of my entire life from when I was the happiest, to the saddest, from the most fulfilled to the most restless?

Or talk about the ping-ponging thoughts, my brain bouncing from past to current to future in no random order, making me dizzy?

How my entire life I’d been running and searching, not knowing what it was that gave me the fulfillment I needed.

And I was still chasing. I could feel the tug in me, which swirled the thoughts, but when I was around Morgan, everything quieted.

Stilled. I could breathe in a way that I hadn’t been able to breathe before.

“When I left last time, I knew it was the right decision,” I finally said, tugging at my jeans.

“It hurt like hell, but there was no doubt in my mind I was making the right decision.”

Morgan’s eyebrows knitted. We both knew this was the truth, but saying it out loud like this probably didn’t feel good for her to hear. But she needed to hear everything, to understand, to be onboard with what I knew was best.

“But this time, it felt so different.” I shifted to face Morgan.

Oh, those sweet eyes, that soft mouth looking at me like that.

Expectant, holding her breath, waiting on my words.

I was both so nervous and so calm, and the confusing messages flickered in my brain.

“This time, I had so much doubt about what I’m doing, what’s best for me, what’s best for you…

and leaving now is not the right decision. ”

Morgan’s breath hitched. She bit the corner of her lip and shook her head. “It is, though, right? Isn’t accepting this incredible job and moving back to New York the best thing for you? You’ve worked for years for this. A lifetime, really. This chance will not come around again.”

Three months ago, I thought that same thing.

When the Birch & Willow opportunity came up, I even did some of the foo-foo manifesting stuff that Quinn was into.

I wanted the job so bad I could taste it.

Images had flashed of myself on location, hunkered down in front of a massive computer screen to edit, sitting in the ultra-trendy corporate office with other creatives storyboarding about a new campaign.

I just knew this was where I was meant to be.

But now…I couldn’t picture any of it without Morgan.

Everything was clouded and dimmed without her there to share this with.

Could I do this alone? Yes. But I didn’t want to. I knew what I wanted, who I wanted, and a job was secondary. “If it was the right decision, then why am I so sick over it?” I asked. “Why is the thought of leaving here, leaving you, tearing me up so much?”

“But this opportunity…”

God, I could look into those Caribbean-blue eyes all day.

I could watch Morgan iron her clothes and eat her turkey sandwiches, feel her body next to me at night and soak in her feistiness for eternity.

I could read Morgan’s emails and texts, and follow her color-coded calendar, and take her to get daily ice cream, and dance with her in the kitchen in the morning.

“It’s a dream job. It really is. Everything I’ve worked for my whole adult life.

” I rested my head on the back of the couch.

Quivers started in my chin. I stared at the ceiling and filled my lungs to stop the tremors.

When Morgan touched my hand, holding me, the shakes slowed.

“But you , you are my dream partner.” I swiped my thumb on Morgan’s silky cheek.

“You are the person I want to be with forever. Not taking this job makes me sad, kinda nervous, a little unsure about what my next plan is. But not having you in my life…that’s breaking my heart.

The idea of not waking up next to you makes me feel like my soul is being ripped from my body and trampled on the floor. ”

Morgan’s eyes welled with tears. Her mouth parted with an oh , but no words came out.

“You are my anchor, my sanity, Morgan,” I continued. “I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.”

Morgan held my hand pressed against her cheek, her chest flushing with pink. “You can’t give up your dreams for me, Frankie. You just can’t. I love you too much to let you do that.”

Morgan didn’t hear the intention in my voice, didn’t fully understand.

But sitting here, my gut settled, the nagging, biting sensation eased.

My heart filled, my spirits lifted, my mind cleared.

This was where I was meant to be. I had a lifetime to show Morgan I wasn’t giving up my dream of working at Birch & Willow for Morgan. I was giving them up for myself.

“I didn’t give up my dreams for you. I swapped them for something better.” I cupped Morgan’s face, held her with all the intention and promise in the world, and pressed my lips to Morgan. “I traded them for a life with you.”