Work Text:
Step 1: don't call Karadec.
Okay, so that was really more like step 5. The real step one had been "try and remind herself of every single one of Karadec's most annoying traits, which had so far met with mixed results. He didn't have nearly enough of those annoying traits, which left her fixating on things like him straightening colored paper, but the crack about him being boring hopefully distracted him from the time she'd accidentally implied over the phone that she had feelings for him.
Realizing that she'd already started reaching for her phone, Morgan firmly yanked her hand back and gave it a good reminder slap. Maybe not calling Karadec needed to be moved to number one, just to make sure she made it enough of a priority.
She squeezed her eyes shut, taking advantage of the fact that all the kids had gone to bed to drop her forehead into her hands. Now, in the relative quiet of her bedroom, she could admit she wasn't putting enough effort into it. She didn't want to lose Karadec, just drag herself back far enough from certain dangerous feelings that could screw up everything. Not pushing him away for good was the whole point.
But she was supposed to be pushing him far enough away to cool down those dangerous feelings, and that hadn't happened at all. He was still as infuriatingly adorable as ever, and if she didn't do something soon it was all going to boil over.
Not Wagner, though. Though she was no longer convinced he was actively evil – he was something, for sure, but weirder and more complicated – the thought of kissing him held little interest. He'd bought her faked vulnerability too easily, if nothing else. If she'd tried that routine with Karadec, he would have raised an eyebrow and suggested acting classes.
And there he was again, damn it.
Morgan lifted her head, giving herself a solid mental kick. That was it. She had to start dating again, or at the very least have a quick, torrid affair with someone who didn't remind her of Karadec at all. It would be better for everyone in the long run, even though Karadec would never need to know that part.
Sex didn't solve anything, but it was usually one hell of a distraction.
Resolved, she got up to finally move the backpack off the bed. Finding the drawing of Ava's dance recital had been both comforting and awful, but she was glad she'd found it. The comforting part was far more important, concrete proof that Roman really did love Ava. Something she could hold. The awful part – that he'd been that close and hadn't trusted her enough to say something – was nothing in comparison.
Karadec would have trusted her, if he'd been Roman. He'd said it himself.
Morgan squeezed her eyes shut, cursing herself. Damn it, this had to stop now.
"Mom?"
She jumped a little at the sound of Ava's voice, turning around to face her. Ava was standing at the door, leaning against the frame like she'd been watching for a little bit. Her expression was soft and a little sad. "You thinking about Dad?"
Technically, it wasn't even a lie, no matter how much it felt like one. "Yeah," Morgan said quietly, holding out her arms.
Ava walked into the hug. As Morgan wrapped her arms around her daughter, she told herself this was enough.