THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,109

Monica, but the idea of a baby is one I eventually liked. The day I walked away from Monica, I distanced myself that much further from my parents. To them, my loser status reached new, unfathomable depths. Little did they know…little did they know.

Morganna blasts into my bedroom, wearing huge sunglasses and sweatpants that hang off her body. She’s unrecognizable. She hasn’t answered a phone call from anyone except the guys or me since it happened. I can’t even think the words without feeling ill. Morg looking like hell is a reminder I don’t want. I pick a spot on the wall and focus on it.

Taking a deep breath I say, “You look like shit. He’d hate it. You know he’d hate it.” My voice is hoarse from rarely using it…and because emotion clogs everything.

She kicks off her shoes, pulls the covers back on the other side of my bed, and gets in, sunglasses on.

I roll to my side and truly look at her. “Hey,” I say, clearing my voice. I lift her glasses to rest on the top of her head. “You actually have to go in public tomorrow, Morg.”

The funeral. I shiver. Her sad eyes, rimmed with permanently wet, black lashes meet mine. What I find there crushes me. Dealing with my grief is one thing—I can internalize it—but Morganna’s is quite another. It takes me a full three seconds to swallow.

“I can’t do it. I really can’t,” she sobs. “It’s not real, Mav. It’s not real. I woke up this morning and I forgot for one tiny second. And then it hit me all at once. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe without him…my heart,” she whispers bringing both hands up to her chest.

I know exactly what she’s feeling. It’s a full-blown panic attack; except the misery is so overwhelming that it takes my breath away. I hug her close to my body and listen to her sobs, feeling her cry against my chest. I try to find the spot on the wall again, but I’m not quick enough. A solitary tear slips out and runs down my face.

“Have you talked to her?” she asks, looking up to my face. I shake my head. Windsor. The thought of her pains me. The thought of kissing her reminds me of death. Monica told me she was at the hospital. Driving away Windsor by letting her assume I’m married is the only good thing Monica has ever done. Because I don’t think I can look at her without facing harsh reality. How much heartache can one person deal with before it drives them mad?

I’ll soon find out. Morganna’s assistant fields both of our phone calls. I haven’t even asked him if Windsor’s called or texted. Attachments kill people. I’m living, breathing proof. I may take breaths and my heart may beat, but I’m not alive anymore. The good part of me died in a dusty room far from home.

“He’d want you to,” Morg whispers, trying to ply me with my own words. “You can’t blame yourself.”

A random stranger would be able to recognize the guilt that sits on my shoulders. I shake my head. I would have died for Stone in a heartbeat. He did what I would have if I were thinking clearly. I’m not sure which is worse. The guilt I carry or actually being dead. The latter seems preferable at the moment.

“He’d still be alive if I didn’t fall for Windsor. That’s a fact. I’m a fuck-up.”

“You are not a fuck-up. She loves you, Maverick. You need people who love you around. She deleted the photo because she didn’t want you to concern yourself with it. Johnny was trying to talk to her all night. You know what she said when she finally did talk to him?”

I haven’t heard this story yet. Honestly, I fucking forgot about it. It’s funny how something so insignificant becomes such a powerful catalyst. I nod, urging her to continue, though I’ve already made up my mind about Windsor.

“She told him she’s so in love with you that she can’t see straight. And then she thanked him for cheating on her because she’d never have met you otherwise.” Morganna lays her head on my chest. I try to swallow, but it gets stuck in my throat. “I broke confidentiality and told her about that bitch, Monica. She was still angry you lied, but I bet you’d have a shot with her. You need her, Mav. Trust me, love like that only