Love Hurts. JJ Keller

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      She reached behind and unzipped the pink and turquoise sequined dress. A few shakes of her hips and the slick material fell to the floor.

      Morgan removed his coat and missed her as she slid through the door. Catcalls and whistles streamed down the hallway. He rushed through the massive oak door and glowered at his friends. Shania’s white rear flashed around the corner, while a hanger swung on the rack where choir robes were stored.

      “She’s hot,” his best man said. “I want some of that.”

      “Shut up, Tom,” Morgan shot back, then swallowed. He took a deep breath and jerked his jacket over his arm. Slowly, he walked into the room, shut the door and leaned against the wood.

      Patty hovered in front of the mirror, messing with her hair. “Has she gone? Do you know she called his morning and claimed her brat had the sniffles and tried to cancel?”

      “Yes, she left. Justin’s not a brat, and I never want to hear you call my son that again.” Morgan ground his teeth, even as he tried to gain control of his emotions. He threw his jacket over the back of a chair and crossed his arms. Justin was his son, and he’d love and protect him with his dying breath.

      “You need to get ready, honey. I’ll have Becky dress, and we’ll start in a few minutes.” She stepped to him and kissed his tight lips.

      “No!” Despite the inside of his mouth bleeding from biting the skin, he was a forgiving man. He would try to see her point of view and end the farce of a relationship. “Look–”

      She smiled. Malice, clear and demonic, glittered from her small eyes. “I meant to tell you, a close friend found out Shania works–”

      He knew where she worked and he resented Patty’s snobbishness and attack. “The wedding’s off.” He paused as her mouth dropped open. “Do you want me to tell them?”

      “What? Why?” Her face scrunched into her famous tear-releasing mode.

      “I can’t be married to someone who’d treat another person that harshly. Your behavior was immature and cruel. Although I’ll always have a…fondness for you, I can’t spend the rest of my life with a woman who can hurt others so easily.” Why did he say yes to her proposal in the first place? Because he was lonely and finally realized he couldn’t have the woman of his dreams—Shania. He’d almost made the biggest mistake of his life. Glancing through the pane, he observed Shania putting Justin in the car seat. Justin was crying and tossing his feet into the air. A black chorus gown belled out as she ran around the sturdy vehicle and slid onto the driver’s seat. She leaned her head against the steering wheel. After a few minutes, she visibly straightened her shoulders.

      “You bastard. You’re doing her, aren’t you?” Patty slapped him. Before she bent to pick up the dress, a snarl crossed her face, wicked enough to send Beelzebub back to his black fire. She ran to the door and turned. Eyes glazed over with unshed tears, she demanded, “If you don’t marry me, you’re paying for the wedding.”

      Morgan sat down on a bench by the window, rubbing the sting from Patty’s hand imprint on his cheek. He flexed his jaw. Joy at Shania’s pronouncement took some of the pain away. Shania loved him. He rubbed his chest, the pounding equal to the rhythm of the organ music filling the chapel.

      Find Shania, echoed in his mind. She had to wait for him. He ran out of the chapel, shoved flowers flapping in the wind on the outside staircase banister and down the sidewalk. He glanced both ways. Which way had she gone? Morgan started toward his car. It was decorated with white writing on the windows and cans trailing behind.

      “Morgan, where are you going?” Mike asked.

      Morgan pivoted to see a line of black-suited friends watching him with confused expressions, except Tom. He had a knowing smile on his square face.

      Morgan would go after Shania once he told his family and friends the wedding was canceled.

      * * * *

      Shania spoke in soothing tones to her son. Face red, hair wet from sweat, he grew tired. His feet stopped striking the car seat and rested. Leaning her head against the window, she took a deep breath. She’d taken a risk and lost. Morgan must not love her the same way she loved him. How could she have read each one of the clues wrong?

      She’d met Morgan over four years ago. As a high school senior she’d visited several colleges, but focused on Briarwood University because of its reputation. The school possessed a renowned and outstanding art department. Morgan’s roommate, Beck Longview, was the upperclassman assigned to show her honors group around the campus. Beck’s talent existed in charcoals and hers in pastel painting. Hmm, so like their individual personalities, Beck’s work was sketchy and full of dark inconsistencies while her art covered the canvas completely with beautiful vibrant colors–all or nothing for Shania.

      “Together, we’d make a whole artistic genius,” Beck whispered in her ear the last day of the orientation. He kissed her, a sweet gentle smooch. She gave him her phone number and climbed in her Jeep to return to Cyan, Indiana. He visited Cyan the next weekend. A pattern formed–she’d attend Summer Workshops at the university or Beck traveled to Cyan.

      Morgan Hardwick was Beck’s best friend. When Beck would take Shania to his house in Briarwood, Morgan was always around, either in the kitchen getting a snack or watching TV, or typing a business paper. His presence didn’t bother her as much as the way he watched her. His soft green eyes, at times, sparked with humor or a flash of heat would appear before he’d lower his glance. More often than not, Morgan would shift his gaze from Beck to her and a frown would appear. He’d tighten his lips and leave the house or shut himself into his bedroom. At the time, Shania considered Morgan’s behavior odd and rude.

      One August evening, Beck and Shania walked hand in hand down Market Street. Shania glanced toward a couple coming from the opposite direction. Morgan escorted a beautiful blond-haired woman wearing a sheer, knee-length ruby dress. Never having seen him with a date before, Shania’s curiosity skyrocketed and she rushed toward them. Morgan’s gaze met hers as Beck tugged her arm, causing her to stumble over her feet as he jerked her through the open door of an antique store. Why hadn’t Beck wanted her to meet the lady in red? More importantly, why had she felt compelled to talk with her? Shania’s interest in Morgan existed back then–if only she had recognized the attraction. If time could be reversed, she’d have taken a different path. Perhaps she and Morgan could have developed an intimate-love-relationship.

      She’d never seen Morgan with the same woman again, and Beck refused to answer Shania’s numerous questions about who she was. Recently, the Briarwood newspaper had a wedding announcement–the same woman Morgan had escorted down the sidewalk was getting married to Beck Longview.

      Shania huffed. Had Beck been betrothed to the other woman back then? Shania glanced in the rear view mirror to see Justin had settled down. She accelerated to pull out of the church parking lot and braked.

      Her affection for Morgan hadn’t struck like a white lightning as it had with Beck–no, her love for Morgan had grown over the years. She’d always care for Beck, but this bond with Morgan was solid and everlasting. If she did indeed have an attachment to him. Goodness. Could she have confused a friendship for adoration?

      Regardless, neither man was in her life. Her chest tightened and her breath shortened. Her second chance at love failed. Maybe she didn’t deserve a happily-ever-after.

       Chapter 2

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