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Morgan made an attempt to clean up the living room after the kids had gone to bed, Jessica Gould's words circling in her head. If Morgan were a nicer person, could she have saved her daughter pain? Or would she just open her up to getting hurt more?
She stopped, pressing her lips together. She'd meant it when she told Ava that she was holding onto hope with both hands that Roman would have a good explanation for all this, meant it when she'd said that she was sure he'd loved Ava with everything he had. She no longer said that she believed Roman had loved her that way, couldn't say it with everything she knew, but she clung to her belief in his love for Ava. It was Ava. How could anyone not love her?
But he'd been in Nevada and hadn't even tried to reach out to them, hadn't tried once even after all these years. They had a contact and he hadn't tried to pass a message along. Fine – maybe he was mad about her working with the cops, but that shouldn't stop him from sending something to Ava. Karadec cared enough to try and keep Ava from getting arrested, then bailed them both out of jail. Roman could have written.
Not that one of them had anything to do with the other. Completely unrelated.
Unsettled that she'd even made the comparison, Morgan tried to clean for a few more minutes before she gave up and called Karadec. She'd send him a voicemail, leave him a long rambling message he'd delete without listening to, then he'd answer her question when she asked it far more coherently in the morning. If it worked, she could even add it to her functioning coping mechanisms list.
But he picked up the phone after only two rings. "Morgan? Is everything okay?"
She closed her eyes, throat tightening for reasons she absolutely didn't want to look at too closely. Then she took a deep breath, making herself cut to the very heart of the problem. "Do you think a good mother would have taught her daughter to forgive her father?"
His response was instantaneous. "I think a good mother would respect her daughter's feelings so much that she'd get herself arrested trying to defend them."
She squeezed her eyes shut more tightly, telling herself firmly that she wasn't going to cry. "Would you have done the same thing as Roman, if you'd been in his position?"
Her earlier comparison didn't have anything to do with why she was asking. She trusted Karadec, the same way she used to trust Roman. That was all it was.
(Later, she would kick herself for thinking that, a truth and a lie tucked together so neatly she'd been able to ignore what was staring her right in the face.
All too soon, ignoring it was going to get a hell of a lot harder.)
Karadec was silent for a long moment, like he was thinking the answer through. "Yes," he said finally. "If I thought it was the only way to keep you both safe."
Morgan swallowed, the words twisting in her gut. It was enough, she told herself firmly. It had to be enough, no matter how little she understood it. How inadequate it was.
But then Karadec kept talking, quick and sure enough that it seemed she'd been wrong about the original reason for his silence. "But I'd leave a letter explaining the situation, and some message for you to pass onto Ava even though she was still a baby."
Morgan's eyes flew open, all the air leaving her lungs in a rush.
Karadec continued, clearly unaware of the effect he was having. "That would be enough to make you try and investigate, so I'd give you just enough information that you'd have something to work with while trying to keep you out of the most intense danger. Probably the name of whatever cop or cops I was sure were dirty, because the last thing I'd want is for you to accidentally trust one of them because I didn't do my job as your husband." He hesitated. "As your partner."
Morgan's eyes burned. The lump in her throat got bigger, like it was her heart actually trying to crawl out of her chest.
His tone took on a slightly self-recriminating edge. "And I'd arrange for someone I trusted to keep an eye on you, but I'd want to make sure you knew them too because you'd pick up on it and I wouldn't want to worry you. What would happen is you'd end up confronting them, and I'd get myself a line of communication with you and Ava without having to admit to myself how much I wanted it in the first place. Maybe even arrange meetings, though that would be so dangerous." He let out a breath. "And I'd be trying to figure out how to come home the whole time." He stopped suddenly, the silence heavy. "To come back, I mean."
Morgan was back on the couch by this point, because otherwise she wasn't entirely sure what her legs would do and it was better that no one ever find out. She swiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks, wishing that her photographic memory applied to things she heard. She never wanted to forget a word of this.
She had to swallow before she could trust her voice. "Thank you."
"Just answering a question." His own voice was rough. "You're a good mom, Morgan."
Her chest tightened. "And you're a good partner." There were so many more meanings shimmering on the edges of that sentence, all of them true but big enough that she didn't dare look at them too closely. If she did, it would ruin everything.
Adam Karadec was a good man. She couldn't start confusing that with him having non-friendship-shaped feelings for her, feelings that Roman proved she couldn't necessarily trust her own perceptions of.
And he clearly knew her so well. By the time Ludo had known her that well, they'd both decided what they felt for each other qualified as friendship. And Roman... clearly hadn't ever known her that well.
There was no way Ada— Karadec could ever fall in love with her. Which meant she had damn well better not let herself be in love with him.
On the other end of the phone, Karadec let out a breath. "You, too." His voice was soft. "Now get some sleep."
She found herself smiling at that, even though it was probably a terrible idea. "You're one to talk."
They said their goodbyes and ended the call, all of Morgan's energy going with it. Her hand dropped into her lap, still holding the phone, and though she very carefully didn't look at it she also didn't move it.
She flopped back against the couch, staring at the ceiling, and tried hard not to think about anything at all.
As usual, it didn't work.