Page 24 of Best Served Cold
Perhaps the world was simply one big cosmic joke, and no matter the choices she made, she would always end up back here, in this bed. Perhaps that was what she wanted, and what she wanted was Morgan. Or perhaps, she didn’t.
Lee Holmes placed a kiss on Morgan's temple, leaning forward as she took the pillow that was once propped underneath her own head, and placed it gently over her girlfriend's. Gently at first, but only at first, applying force when her body began to squirm underneath her. The temporary gentleness was Lee’s way of saying that she didn’t want to do this, shehadto do this. “I’m sorry,” Lee offered, as if the two words could somehow fix everything. “I love you,” she continued, in case the two words were not enough.
The world fell away when Morgan did.
When her girlfriend had stopped breathing, her body no longer squirming, she screamed into the pillow, her eyes on Morgan’s lifeless ones, only to find herself screaming at the ceiling just seconds later. She jolted awake, the nightmare evaporating into the newly brightened room, sweat dripping down her forehead, and on her chest, only to find that the lifeless eyes she had looked into seconds before were no longer there. Morgan was no longer there.
Lee attempted to steady her breathing, but the act was futile, acknowledging that the sun had begun to streak through the curtains, unsure as to what time it was and when she had fallenasleep and when Morgan had left.If Morgan was no longer next to her, had it truly been a dream?
Chapter Twenty
Lee Holmes was unsure as to how long she had actually slept before her phone rang, jolting her awake and accelerating her heart rate. After checking the apartment for Morgan that morning and coming up empty, Lee had tossed and turned herself into oblivion. She had texted Morgan an hour ago only to receive a simple “I’m fine,” in response, and Lee had attempted not to equate those two words in her mind to “I’m actually not fine at all.”
The loud ringtone buzzing through her ears now, combined with the vibration as it lay against the bedside table, felt much like the equivalent of having an ice-cold bucket of water splashed over her head. If she was tired before, she wasn’t now.
There was a crackle on the line upon answering it, mixed with the sound of voices in the background, although Lee couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.
“Baby,” a voice said, much closer to the phone than the background noises. Lee recognized the voice instantly to be Morgan’s whilst simultaneously recognizing the looming sense of worry she had become accustomed to over the last few dayspolluting her mind. Morgan was not known to call from an unknown number, and, as a matter of fact, had never contacted her using anything other than her own cellphone. Wherever she was, Lee Holmes deduced that it certainly seemed busy given the amount of noise in the background. Chattering voices and closed doors.
“I left as quietly as I could this morning because I didn’t want to disturb you,” she continued. “I’m at the station. I can explain everything later. I just wanted to call you and let you know because I didn’t want you to worry.”
Lee Holmes didn’t quite know what to make of the situation, much less Morgan’s final words, so instead of saying anything, she simply laughed, allowing what remained of her sanity to finally break.
“Not to tell you how to respond, but that wasn’t the reaction I had envisioned prior to calling you.”
Pausing for just a moment, lest Lee scream into the phone, she closed her eyes and exhaled. “What do you want me to say, Morgan? I should have fucking known something like this would happen. How long do I have before the police—”
“Hold that thought,” Morgan said, a little forcefully. “It’s not related to our donation to the thrift store. So there’s no need to mention any of that. It’s concerning Dylan.”
Huffing into the phone, Lee nodded, forgetting that Morgan was unable to see her. “Do you need me to come down to the station?”
“No, that’s okay,” Morgan replied, her tone seemingly softer after receiving confirmation that Lee understood what she was telling her. “I’ll be home as soon as I can. We can talk about it then. I just don’t want you to worry in the meantime.”
Telling Lee Holmes not to worry was like telling water not to be wet. Each and every day occupied a new fear, now, in some way or another, like finally summoning up the courage to peekbehind the door, only to find another, more intimidating door in its place. She huffed into the phone, harmonizing with the crackle on the other end of it. “Fine. Thank you for telling me. I’ll see you soon. Call me if you need me.”
Hanging up the phone before Morgan could say “I love you” and she in turn, could say it back, felt unfamiliar, and yet necessary. Lee had been stewing in her own anxiety all morning, it was time for Morgan to sweat.
Closing the call illuminated her phone background—a rather pleasant image in Paris—both herself, and Morgan posing in front of the Eiffel Tower. It was taunting, almost. Where it would typically provide Lee with some reprieve for the day, whenever she was feeling stressed, or overwhelmed, it had the opposite effect today. With her mind already short circuiting, she added one more anxious thought into the mix:Would they ever be that happy again?
Acknowledging that the possibility of sleep was now long gone, Lee Holmes traipsed towards the kitchen and put the kettle on, taking in the sound of it brewing in a pitiful attempt at blocking out all the chaos in her mind, except the intrusive contemplations only got louder, and the kettle ceased to boil after a pathetic sixty seconds, prompting her to pour out its contents into her favorite mug whilst her thoughts ran wild. “Unbelievable,” she said aloud to herself, as if talking to her brain, arguing with it even, might force it to settle down, like telling off a naughty child.
Lee plopped the tea bag into the cup, opening one of the kitchen cupboards in order to retrieve a spoon for stirring. Allowing the tea to steep, she leaned against the counter and caught her breath, only now realizing that she had forgotten to inhale for approximately the last ten seconds. As she exhaled, she realized at present time that she was mourning two things, both her old relationship with Morgan, and the previous routinethat she had crafted for herself that was gradually becoming a distant memory. Her relationship would always remain something that she was only half able to control, however, something shecouldcontrol wholeheartedly was allowing herself to slip back into her previous rituals. It wouldn’t be enough to completely quell the ache inside of her, but perhaps it would be enough to soothe it.
She told herself that the tea bag was her intrusive thoughts as she discarded it into the trash, taking the first step in regaining what she had lost by blowing on the drink just above the tip of the mug as she placed herself upon her favorite bar stool. Her equally favorite guilty pleasure fashion magazine was already there waiting for her on the counter, having attempted to read it the day before, falling short when her attention span did. Feeling as stubborn as she did at present time, if her attention span failed her again, she would certainly beat it into submission with sheer willpower alone.
She huffed as she flicked a finger into a random page inside the magazine, using the force of only her index to push it open entirely, revealing a celebrity she didn’t know the name of donning a blazer and skirt combo that she didn’t particularly care for. It reminded her of work, and work reminded her of Arthur Strickland, and Arthur Strickland reminded her of all of the things in her life that she currently wished to repress.
Turning the page, both metaphorically and physically, she was greeted by a woman in a beautiful blue dress. She had never felt attracted to women who looked like her, namely, red headed, or particularly stereotypically feminine, but she did admire the way the dress fell over her, cascading over her body like water across a leaf.
Her own body practically seized up when her phone rang for a second time. She decided at that moment that her ringtone would have to change the second that she felt like she andMorgan were officially in the clear. That is, if she ever felt like that was the case. The ringtones' connotations now were related to a sense of panic, and a sense of panic alone. If they could just get through the next few months, she would change it to something jazzier, more upbeat.
If she was betting good money, which she didn’t have in the first place, her guess as to who the caller would be was obvious. Of course, it had to be Morgan phoning her once again from the police station. Only, when she checked the caller ID, she raised an inquisitive eyebrow upon noticing that the person in which was calling her was none other than her friend, Sienna.
Lee Holmes answered the phone with a cautious “hello?”, conscious of the fact that in the entirety of their three years of friendship, Sienna had never once phoned her about anything. This wasn’t a flaw by any means, as Lee much preferred the safety of text, particularly after this week whereby every second of silence on the phone felt like her soul was being sucked out of her.
After a few seconds of soul-sucking, Sienna responded. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you. I suppose I just needed someone to speak to, and you’ve always been such a wonderful listener. Do you have a moment?”
“For you?” Lee said, less cautious than before. “I have all the time in the world.”
