Chapter 6: The Truth in Her Eyes

"No, Morgan, I want to go to your place."

The words slipped out before I could stop them. I could feel my face burning.

As soon as I said it, I realized how it sounded and quickly added:

"Just to change!"

Morgan laughed, a low, warm sound that made my heart flutter. She nodded, and we headed for the parking garage together.

Morgan and I walked side by side to the garage. Since my hands were wrapped up in her coat, she opened the car door for me.

She held the door open like a perfect gentleman, then helped me into the passenger seat. Her fingers brushed mine, sending a jolt of electricity up my arm.

With her next to me, my mind was a mess.

I stared out the window, replaying every moment of the night. I could feel Morgan’s eyes on me, and it made my skin tingle.

So when she bent over to fasten my seatbelt, I didn’t notice the camera in the car across from us.

Her hair brushed my cheek as she leaned in, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. I didn’t even see the flash from the car across the aisle.

The car started moving, and neither of us spoke.

The silence was heavy, but not uncomfortable. I watched the city lights blur past, wondering if Morgan could hear how fast my heart was beating.

All I could think of was Morgan smiling at me at the airport two years ago.

I glanced at her in the rearview mirror, searching for any sign that she remembered me, too.

I looked at her through the rearview mirror.

Her eyes met mine for a split second, then darted away. I wondered if she was just as nervous as I was.

I wanted to ask if she remembered meeting me at the airport, but I was afraid she’d say no.

I’ve always been a little fragile—if things don’t go my way, I’d rather keep them hidden.

I bit my lip, debating whether to speak. In the end, I stayed quiet, afraid of ruining the moment.

"Do you… like my brother?"

Morgan suddenly asked. I snapped out of my daydream.

Her question caught me off guard. I turned to look at her, confused.

"Huh? What?"

"No! I don’t like him at all! We’re just good friends!"

I blurted out. Morgan was stunned, her lips curving slightly. From my angle, her eyes sparkled:

I saw the relief flicker across her face, and my heart skipped a beat. Maybe I wasn’t the only one overthinking things.

"I see… You don’t have to be nervous, I was just asking."

She smiled, a little embarrassed. I felt my own cheeks flush, and I looked away, wishing I could be cooler about all this.

Realizing I’d overreacted, I turned away awkwardly.

I fiddled with the hem of the trench coat, suddenly self-conscious. Morgan started talking about her favorite movies, and I just nodded, barely listening.

Morgan started chatting with me, intentionally or not. I was so shy I couldn’t look at her, just nodded or shook my head like I was being interviewed by a boss.

She asked about my favorite foods, my favorite colors, even my favorite flowers. I answered each question quietly, afraid to say the wrong thing. It felt like an interview, but also like something more.

When we got to her place, I took a shower first.

The bathroom was bigger than my entire apartment. I took my time, letting the hot water calm my nerves. I tried not to think about Morgan waiting in the next room.

The moment I walked in, I noticed all her toiletries were brands I’d recommended online.

My heart skipped a beat. I ran my fingers over the bottles, recognizing every label. Had she really bought them because of me?

My heart skipped a beat—I couldn’t help but overthink.

I wrapped myself in a towel, staring at my reflection. Was I reading too much into this? Or was there really something between us?

After showering, I wrapped myself in a towel and went to find Morgan.

I tiptoed down the hall, feeling like a kid sneaking out past curfew. Morgan was in her study, typing away on her laptop. She looked up as I entered, her eyes wide.

She was working in the study. She looked up at me, and this time, I didn’t look away—she did.

Her cheeks turned pink, and she quickly looked back at her screen. I felt a little thrill of victory.

"The clothes are in the walk-in closet. They’re new and already ironed. You can wear them."

She coughed lightly. When she tucked her hair behind her ear, I saw her earlobes were red.

She looked so flustered, I almost laughed. It was nice to know I wasn’t the only one who got nervous.

"Okay…"

My voice caught, and her face turned even redder.

We stood there for a moment, both too shy to say anything else. Finally, I slipped into the closet, closing the door behind me.

In the closet, I saw a white halter dress hanging on the steamer.

It was gorgeous—simple, elegant, and exactly my style. I ran my fingers over the fabric, heart pounding.

I recognized the brand immediately—it was my first clothing endorsement.

I remembered the photoshoot like it was yesterday. Seeing the dress here, in Morgan’s closet, made everything feel surreal.

It was hard not to overthink…

I wondered if Morgan had bought it because of me, or if it was just a coincidence. Either way, it made my heart race.

Morgan’s closet smelled faintly of lilies. I stood in the middle, took a deep breath, and slowly changed.

The scent was calming, almost hypnotic. I zipped up the dress, admiring the way it fit. For a second, I let myself imagine what it would be like to wear it for Morgan on a real date.

I zipped the dress halfway up, planning to pretend I couldn’t zip it and ask Morgan for help. But just as I was about to leave, a box fell from the top shelf and almost hit me.

I yelped as the box tumbled down, scattering its contents across the floor. I knelt to pick them up, my hands shaking.

It hit the floor and spilled its contents everywhere.

Letters—dozens of them, tied together with a red ribbon. My heart thudded in my chest as I read the words on the top envelope.

The noise startled Morgan. She rushed over to check, but I just stared at the things on the floor.

She called my name, her voice worried. I barely heard her, too busy trying to process what I was seeing.

They were letters—a thick stack, tied together. On the cover, in bold letters: