The Expansion of the Universe

Thirty-Nine | "You're excused."

"I want to tell you why I was so angry."

Liza jolted at Elijah's sudden words, eyeing him curiously from where she was sitting on the grass with Milo, leaning against Elijah's legs, as her boyfriend was settled on the porch step just behind her. "You don't have to tell me." She reminded him gently.

He smiled sweetly, bringing up one hand slowly, carefully—like he always did, as if assessing her response to ensure he didn't startle her—to dust over her eyebrows, nose, and cheeks. "I know, gorgeous, but I want to tell you, if you feel like you're okay to hear it. I can wait."

She appreciated that he always checked with her to make sure she felt mentally stable enough before he unloaded any drama on her, and she nodded to assure him that she was. "You can tell me. I'd like to know." She was extremely curious, after all, and she thought that maybe he'd feel better after he spoke about what had upset him.

As hard as it was to talk about certain things, she knew personally that emotional topics often seemed to weigh less once they were discussed openly with another, trusted confidant.

"Okay, doll," he mused, moving his hand down her body, and then spreading his fingers wide. Recognizing the silent request, she gripped his hand in hers and squeezed gently. He returned the gesture with a soft, grateful smile on his lips. "God, you really are gorgeous, babe. Alright, here we go. You remember all the drama I told you about, when I found out that Morgan isn't my real mom?"

She nodded. "You were mad," understandably so. "And you and your dad are cordial enough, but you still don't get along well. He never forgave you, even though you apologized for what you did, and he was in the wrong, too." It was a quick summary that did not nearly encapsulate the many details of the situation, but it was the main takeaway.

"That's right," Elijah confirmed. "And I thought that maybe, when I went for this extended visit, we'd be able to hash things out."

Recalling how agitated he'd been upon his return, she knew that had most certainly not occurred.

Sure enough: "Well, that didn't happen. I showed up, and everything was pretty much normal at first. Morgan and I cleaned up around the house, I helped her with some landscaping and shit, and Dad was gone on a work trip for the first week. When he got back, he wanted to talk, so we did, and do you know what that asshole had to say?" A bitter laugh escaped him, and he shook his head with something like disbelief. "God, I can't believe that son of a bitch."

She swallowed nervously, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand in an attempt to keep him calm. He spared her an understanding glance and took a minute to reassure her, "I'm alright, pretty girl, I promise.

"So, he gets back, tells me he wants to talk. I say, 'okay, me too,' and we head to that goddamned office of his." He chuckled without humor. "God, I hate that fucking office." Realizing he'd cursed, he passed her a wince and a, "sorry, sweets," before continuing. "He had some paperwork spread over his desk, and he told me he wanted to talk about his will." Elijah paused, sucking in a slow breath, then squeezing her hand carefully, as though asking for strength.

"He changed his will, babe, and it makes me sick." She tilted her head thoughtfully. She had never thought much about wills. Mom had told her, once, that she had left everything of importance to Liza, but Liza had only ever responded that she hoped to never see the will for many years.

God only knew how badly her mom's death would affect her fragile mental state.

"I don't want his money or shit like that," Elijah explained. "I'm not worried about that, so I couldn't care less if the old fart leaves me anything. But I am worried about Morgan. She's never worked, you know? She was pretty young when she married my dad, and then she basically dedicated herself to taking care of Zach and I. Now that we live on our own, she keeps the house up, manages the shopping, things like that. She has some hobbies to keep her busy, but she doesn't work.