have a nice weekend

Morgan Weston stood in the middle of the bustling grocery store, shifting from one booted foot to the other as he stared at a display of chocolates. His fingers absently stroked his beard, a habit when he was deep in thought. The store was packed with holiday shoppers, the hum of carols playing faintly in the background blending with the chatter of customers and the squeak of cart wheels.

He’d been walking these aisles for nearly an hour, feeling more like a lost kid than the easy-going cowboy he was known to be. His cart was empty except for a box of crackers he’d grabbed on a whim.

Puck’s Chrismakkah party was tonight, and Morgan couldn’t show up empty-handed. Thanksgiving had been a delicate balancing act - his relationship with Puck and Eva felt like trying to keep a loose saddle steady on a wild horse. Both of them had kissed him since then, separately, leaving his heart in knots. Now, as the holidays rolled around, he wrestled with whether there was any real hope for them, or if it was just wishful thinking on his part.

"Flowers again?" he mumbled to himself. He shook his head. Thanksgiving had been flowers. It felt repetitive, uninspired. Wine was out - Puck and Eva didn’t drink. Morgan wasn’t about to show up with something impersonal like a candle, either. This wasn’t just any party. It was Puck's party, Eva was probably going to be there, and he wanted what he brought, to matter.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the older man at the sample station waving at him until he was almost in front of it. “Hello there, son,” the man greeted warmly, holding out a small square of gingerbread on a napkin. He had a kind face framed by a thick white beard and was dressed in a festive red sweater adorned with embroidered snowflakes. His belly shook a little as he chuckled, though Morgan wouldn’t dare call him Santa out loud.

“Afternoon,” Morgan said, managing a polite smile as he accepted the gingerbread. He read the nametag on his red sweater briefly. Nick. “You look like you’re trying to solve the meaning of life,” Nick teased gently. “Gotta say, the holidays’ll do that to you.”

Morgan chuckled softly. “Feels like it, yeah. Got a party to go to, and I can’t figure out what to bring.” The older man studied him for a moment. “Special party?” Morgan hesitated but nodded. “Yeah, kind of.”

“Ah,” Nick said knowingly. “The kind where what you bring says a little something about how you feel?” Morgan’s brows lifted in surprise. “How’d you guess?”

“Seen plenty of fellas like you come through here this time of year.” The man leaned on the counter as if settling in to chat. “Here’s the thing: if it’s about showing you care, what you bring doesn’t have to be fancy. Just thoughtful. What kind of folks are you visiting?”

Morgan thought for a moment. “They’re... warm, generous. They’ve been through a lot, and they mean the world to me.” His voice softened. “More than I probably let on.”

The older man smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Sounds like good folks. You know, sometimes the best gifts aren't something you pick off a shelf. Maybe it’s something that reminds them of who they are to you.” Morgan tilted his head. “Like what?”

Nick glanced at Morgan’s cart, then back at him. “Got a picture with these people? Something from a time you were happy together? Put it in a nice frame, wrap it up. That way, every time they see it, they’ll think about what you shared - and what you still could have.” Morgan blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of the idea. “A picture?”

The jolly man nodded and gave him a soft smile. “Doesn’t have to be fancy. Just something from the heart. Best thing about this time of year - it’s about remembering what matters most. And it sounds to me like they matter a whole lot to you.” Morgan felt something in his chest loosen, a little of the weight lifting. “That’s-... a really good idea. Thank you.”

“Anytime, son,” the man said with a wink. “Now go find that frame. Bet you’ll find what you’re looking for on aisle five. Oh, and how about this pack of gingerbread cookies - I'm sure they'll go down a treat.” Santa- Nick handed him a packet, and Morgan laughed as he took it, giving him a gentle nod and a smile, before heading off. By the time he left the store, his cart held two simple but elegant frames, some festive wrapping paper, and ribbon. And of course the gingerbread cookies that the man had been handing samples out of.

---------

Later that evening, standing on Puck’s doorstep with the wrapped frames tucked under his arm, Morgan took a steadying breath. Both frames held pictures taken with each person. He'd tried his hardest to wrap them the neatest he could, but remembered the white-bearded man's wise words: “It's about remembering what matters most.” And to Morgan, the time they'd spent together meant the world to him.

The house was lit with a warm glow, the faint sound of laughter and music drifting through the door.

Hope.

MORGAN stood out in the pasture, his weathered jeans dusted at the knees, boots planted firmly in the grass. The late afternoon sun bathed the ranch in a golden glow, stretching long shadows across the rolling pastures. A light breeze carried the soft scent of hay and the distant sound of horses snorting contentedly as they grazed. It was the kind of quiet that settled deep in his bones, the kind that made him feel steady again after weeks of chaos and grieving. In one hand, he held a halved apple, extending it out carefully as the doe before him stepped closer. Her ears flicked warily, but her nose twitched with interest. Behind her, a speckled fawn poked its head out from her flank, watching the scene unfold with the same cautious curiosity. “Come on, girl,” Morgan said softly, his voice a low drawl as gentle as the breeze. “Ain’t nobody here gonna hurt ya.” The doe took another step, her dark eyes meeting his as if measuring the trust between them. With a delicate stretch of her neck, she plucked the apple from his hand, her teeth crunching quietly as she chewed. Morgan smiled, a dimple sinking into his cheek beneath the scruff of his beard. “That’s it. See? Nothin’ to it,” he murmured, as the fawn took a hesitant step closer. From his back pocket, he pulled another apple, already sliced, and crouched down to hold it out. The fawn looked up at its mother, seeking silent permission, before inching closer to take the offered fruit. It was in that quiet moment that the sound of tires crunching over gravel met Morgan’s ears. He looked up toward the drive, squinting against the sun, and his chest gave a familiar, achy squeeze when he saw Eva’s car rolling to a stop. He watched as she got out of the car, and motioned for her to be quiet and come towards him gently, hoping it wouldn’t startle the animals. “Here,” He told her, holding has hand out for her to take, so he could give her another apple half, so she could try feeding then curious fawn.

EVA had been grateful that her cast had just been reduced to a much more tolerable splint that she could adjust or remove when need be, making it much easier for her to do things for herself again, and things had mostly started to feel normal again. Her car had been repaired and restored to majority of its glory, she was back focused on work, and she was back in her own damn condo. There wasn't much more she could have asked for, but she was also back on civil speaking terms with Morgan and Puck and well...that scared her more than she'd wanted to admit (to anyone other than Bree, anyways). Agreeing to hang out with them individually, without anyone around to cockblock, was going to test the hell out of her sobriety, but as she pulled into the familiar driveway of Morgan's ranch, she knew there was no turning back now. Once she stopped and shut off the engine, she was half expecting him to motion for her to head towards the house so when she got out and saw he wasn't doing this, she sighed to herself. Of course the man would want her to stand out here and watch him be cute with animals! She had thought she was prepared for him to be his usual self today, but this was proving her wrong. But she just nodded and stepped over anyways, taking his hand as she peered at the deer. "You make a habit of befriending deer?" She asked softly. "I shouldn't be surprised, but I still am. Is this a common thing, or were these just fascinated by you being the animal whisperer and wanted to stop and chill with you for a minute?"

MORGAN's lips tugged into a soft smile as Eva took his hand, her fingers fitting against his as naturally as sunlight warming his skin. “Well, I can’t say it’s a regular habit,” he drawled, his voice rich with that warm, familiar cadence she could probably pick out of a crowd. “But every now and then, they wander by. I reckon they can tell when a place feels safe.” He glanced back at the doe and her fawn, who had relaxed enough to nibble at the grass nearby, their trust not entirely broken by Eva’s presence. “Animals got a way of knowin’ things about people. They don’t care what you say or how you dress - they just go off what they feel. Guess they figured I was worth takin’ a chance on.” His gaze flickered back to Eva, softening as he took her in. She looked good - better than good, even, now that she wasn’t weighed down by the cast or the bruises from before. The sight of her standing there, so close yet still feeling just out of reach, stirred something tender and a little raw in his chest. Morgan’s smile deepened as he gently squeezed her hand. “Now you, on the other hand, I wasn’t so sure you’d take me up on this invite. Thought maybe you’d change your mind and call Bree to bail you out.” His tone was teasing, but the faint hitch at the end betrayed something a little more vulnerable. “Glad you didn’t, though. Been lookin’ forward to this.” He hesitated, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “How you been? Really, I mean. Feels like forever since we’ve had a chance to just talk."

EVA nodded along as he spoke, deciding that she'd just listen to him talk about the animal thing for now. This was one of the reasons why she'd fallen for him in the first place, and as much as she hated it right now, she couldn't fight the way her heart swelled at this. If there was ever a time for her to drink, it would be right now. But since she couldn't, all she could do was just suck it up and admire the fact that he was hands down one of the most gentle men she'd ever met. "Every animal you meet feels that way about you, you know?" She questioned rhetorically, since she was sure that he knew that. Animals were almost as drawn to him as people were, which both annoyed her and intrigued her, but she was overlooking that as best as she could for now. When he shifted gears and turned the attention on her, she furrowed her brows a little bit when he mentioned Bree. "Wait, did she tell you what I said?" She was positive that Bree wouldn't have gone into the specifics of their conversation about him and Puck, but then again, those two were besties so maybe she had disclosed the intel as a precaution? She could understand it, sure, but it also gave her a reason to reconsider just how much she chose to share with Bree in case they were putting her in the middle of their bullshit. Letting Morgan speak up again, Eva sighed as she wrestled with how to answer his question. She used to be much better at concealing how she truly felt, yet lately, everyone in her life seemed to call her out whenever she tried lying so it seemed to be fruitless. "I'm a mess." She answered truthfully. "My wrist is better, and I'm back home and in class so that's a good start, but..I've been a wreck since everything went south with us and Puck. My parents are still making me go to AA too but to be fair, I don't think it's working like it should be since it wasn't my decision to go. But I still haven't had a drink since the wreck so..guess we're good?"

MORGAN listened quietly, his hand falling to his side as Eva's words sank in. She was still fighting her battles, and from the way her voice wavered, he could tell how much it was taking out of her. The urge to fix things - to smooth out the rough edges and take some of that weight off her shoulders - tugged at him, but he knew better. Eva wasn’t the kind of woman who wanted rescuing, not in this situation, and if there was one thing he’d learned the hard way, it was that she had to work through this at her own pace. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” he said after a moment, his voice soft but steady. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but takin’ it one step at a time? That’s somethin’ to be proud of. You’ve got this, Eva. And if you ever need someone to just listen, well, you know where to find me.” He gave her a small smile, one that carried more hope than he dared speak aloud. “As for Bree,” he added, his tone lightening a bit, “you know she’s got your back. She’d never put you in a spot you couldn’t handle, no matter what she might’ve told me. And, for the record, she was just the first person I thought of, since she's the one who sees you the most, on a regular basis. With classes, her thesis, and brand management. Right?” He couldn't deny that there was some sort of curiosity floating around in his brain, wanting to know what they'd talked about; but he wasn't the type of guy to ask that, and so, he decided to put that thought to rest, and let it be. Morgan stepped closer, closing a bit of the space between them. There was that typical, automatic magnetic pull that Eva had about her, that he didn't even hesitate to give in to. Now that she was here - even if it was in a civil-kind of manner - he wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to be closer to her. “But I’m glad you came. I missed this.” His gaze dropped to her hand for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “I missed you.”

EVA had spent the past month being pushed — or forced, depending on how you looked at her entire family prying and her having to analyze her issues in AA — into opening up and being vulnerable, and she was both overwhelmed and pissed about it. Repeating how she felt about everything didn't feel like it was helping, even if her mom said otherwise, but without alcohol as her alternative to opening up, she didn't have any other options. Morgan trying to praise her and give her some sort of credit felt like it wasn't deserved, but maybe he did have a point? "Thank you." She muttered softly, deciding that was really all she could say in response to that for now. She did know that him and Puck were there for her if she needed to talk, but she also knew that even with her guard up again, she was pathetically weak for them and would just fold, which she was trying not to do now. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. And you're not entirely wrong because I was struggling with deciding to show up or not." She confessed. Maybe that was too honest, but she had learned her lesson about not being completely honest so it was for the best. Biting her lip as he stepped closer, Eva didn't have a clue how she still had her bearings, for the most part anyways. This was what she'd been afraid of. Spending time together was one thing, but when he got this close to her, close enough for them to inhale each other's scents and hear every breath the other took, she was far too weak to stand her ground. And of course Morgan would say some shit she knew, but did not need to hear in her current state, and she hated the way her heart skipped a beat at that. "Morgan.." She uttered his name almost as if she might break if she'd said it any louder than that. "I know, and I—" Miss you too. It was the truth, but as she met his gaze again, she couldn't bring herself to say it so she just nodded. "I know."

MORGAN had been standing on the edge of something fragile and electric. The way Eva had said his name - it was barely a whisper, but it struck deep enough to stop his breath for a beat. Her honesty, even when she struggled to say what he could already feel radiating between them, reminded him why he’d fallen so hard for her in the first place. The nod she gave him, subtle but weighted, was all the invitation he needed. Slowly, he leaned closer, his hand shifting slightly as if to steady himself - or her. The air between them grew still, heavy with unspoken truths and unrelenting longing. Just one kiss, that’s all he wanted. No, needed. He was so close, he could smell her perfume, could feel her breath, and just one inch closer, and his lips would be on hers. Then, the sound of laughter broke through the quiet, startling both him and the deer grazing a little ways off. “Y’all done being moony-eyed out here, or should we come back later?” Peyton's teasing voice carried as she strolled toward them, reins over her shoulder and a mischievous grin that could only come from someone who’d been waiting for the perfect moment to interrupt. Morgan sighed, the moment shattered but not entirely lost. He turned his head just in time to see Brodie following behind Peyton, her boots kicking up little puffs of dust as she led her chestnut mare toward them. The tall cowboy ran a hand through his hair and turned toward his sisters, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “Y’all are the worst,” he drawled, but there was no real bite in his words. “But since you’re here, I might as well introduce you.” He glanced back at Eva, his gaze softening as he nodded toward the approaching pair. “Eva, these two troublemakers are my sisters, Brodie and Peyton. Peyton’s the one with the loud mouth-” The youngest sister cut in immediately. “Excuse me?” She said, feigning offense as she leaned her weight on one hip. “I prefer to think of it as being-… expressive.” Morgan rolled his eyes playfully and started to grin. “Loud,” He reiterated, before gesturing to Brodie. “And Brodie's my twin sister, and the one who thinks she’s quiet, but she’s just as nosy as Peyton.” Brodie gasped, though it was only for dramatic effect. “Not true,” She said, though her amused tone made it clear she wasn’t denying much. “It’s called observational, Morgan.” The older brother chuckled and shook his head before turning back to Eva. “And Eva,” he said, his voice softening again, “is-… well, she’s someone real special to me.” Peyton's grin widened as she gave Eva an exaggerated once-over, her arms crossing loosely over her chest. “So this is the Eva, huh? You’ve come up in conversation more than a couple times.” Brodie offered Eva a gentler smile, her tone warm and genuine. “It’s nice to meet you. Don’t mind Peyton. She thinks she’s funny.”

EVA saw and felt it coming before Morgan even started leaning in, and every ounce of her body just froze in response. She had kissed him and Puck on Thanksgiving so she couldn't exactly reject him doing the same thing now. And even if she wouldn't allow herself to fully admit it, something deep down inside of her wasn't against it. It would set her back 100 yards on whatever healing journey her parents had forced her on, but how bad could a simple kiss really be? Luckily they didn't have to find out as they were interrupted before their lips ever touched, and she had never been more grateful or flustered in her entire life. Turning to the source of the intrusion, she quickly plastered on a smile and tried to put that little moment behind them. After all, she'd just endured her own family taunting her so the last thing she needed to do was give Morgan's sisters more ammo to do the same right now. She nodded along as he introduced his sisters by name, and when he got to his twin, she furrowed her brows as she studied Brodie's features. "Uh..." She paused, her eyes trailing over Brodie's facial features again before she nudged Morgan's arm. "Is it just me, or does your twin look like she could throw on a blonde wig and literally be Hannah Montana?" Eva questioned, and sure, maybe it was just her being too worshipping of the fictional rockstar, but Brodie really did look like her. But she focused again as Morgan introduced her, and if she could feel the blush growing on her cheeks at the way he basically said a whole lot without saying much at all. When Peyton spoke up again, she accepted her playful jab before turning to Brodie. "It's nice to meet both of you, and no worries. My siblings are all like that too, so I'm used to it." She admitted with a smile. "But uh..since you two have the horses out anyways, maybe we should go for a ride too, Mr. Weston? It has been a while since our last lesson anyways, and Clover probably misses me."

MORGAN couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up at Eva’s comment about Brodie looking like Hannah Montana. He glanced at his twin, who had paused mid-stride to narrow her eyes and place a hand on her hip. “Okay, first of all,” Brodie began, mock-offended but clearly amused, “Hannah Montana wishes she had my bone structure.” Morgan smirked, shaking his head. “You know, she’s not wrong actually.” Brodie shot him a smug grin, then turned back to Eva. “But I’ll take it as a compliment. You’re sharp, I like you.” Peyton rolled her eyes. “Don’t encourage her, Eva, or you’ll never hear the end of it.” Eva’s playful banter in response to his sisters made Morgan’s chest feel lighter, and for a moment, he let himself just enjoy the easiness of it all. When Eva suggested going for a ride, though, his grin widened, the idea sparking a warmth in him he hadn’t felt in a while. “Well, I reckon Clover has missed you,” he said, tilting his head toward the barn. “And I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t miss teachin’ ya. How about we saddle up?” Peyton raised an eyebrow. “You’re gonna let her ride Clover? I thought she was your prized mare or somethin’.” Morgan smiled, the drawl turning warm, full of fond memories of their dates. “She is, but Eva knows how to handle her just fine.” He turned back to her, his voice softening a little. “We’ve got some new trails out back if you’re up for it. And these two can tag along, I guess.” He motioned to his two sisters, playfully rolling his eyes, before his grin softened again. He honestly preferred having alone-time with Eva, but that small hopeful part of him also figured that, if he got to spend more time with her - no matter what situation it was in - she would eventually come back around, and therefore eventually have to meet his family anyway. Besides, the hope only managed to grow inside of him, hearing Eva use the term for him, that she'd used, back when they were still good. “Unless you want to go alone, Ms. Anderson.”

EVA eyed Brodie's cheekbones at her comment before nodding. "Okay yes, you do have killer cheekbones — but show me a picture of you in high school and I bet you two were identical." She suggested, and she could already envision it. How the hell Morgan hadn't made the comparison before, she didn't know, but there was no way she could unsee it now. She was half tempted to ask her to sing one of Hannah's songs to see if she'd butcher it like her twin or miraculously sound exactly like the queen herself, but she decided against it...for now. "Thank you!" She responded to the compliment, which was pretty accurate. As much as her own siblings had been overwhelming her lately, it was nice to meet and be around Morgan's sisters now, who were a lot more chill than her entire family would have been if they'd been around Morgan or Puck. When her idea for them to go for a ride seemed to be right up his alley, she smiled. If nothing else, them being on separate horses would have kept enough space between them, but it also would have been the perfect way for them to still spend time together, do something they enjoyed, and even still talk just without the temptation of leaning in close and almost kissing. She raised a brow when Peyton questioned her being able to ride Clover, but Morgan's response solidified her decision. "I can handle the new trails, I suppose." Maybe she should asked for more details first, but she was at least confident that he wouldn't let anything happen to her so she figured there was nothing to worry about. The decision of whether his sisters could tag along being in her hands made Eva still for a moment, but then she shrugged it off before starting to head for the barn. "You two don't have to wait for us if you don't want to." She decided as she glanced back over her shoulder at the sisters. "But let's go, cowboy. We can't keep Clover waiting forever." She teased.

MORGAN chuckled as he fell in step beside Eva, his hands sliding into his pockets as they made their way toward the barn. “You know,” he began, glancing over at her, “Brodie’s probably diggin’ through her old yearbooks as we speak, just to prove you right- or wrong. Either way, you might’ve just unleashed a monster.” From behind them, Brodie’s voice called out, “Damn right I am! I’ll find one before y’all are back.” Morgan shook his head, chuckling as he turned his attention back to Eva. “And now you see what I’ve been dealin’ with my whole life.” Reaching the barn, he opened the door and stepped aside, letting her go in. The scent of hay, leather, and horses immediately filled the air, grounding him in the familiarity of home. “Clover’s in her usual spot,” he said, nodding toward the stall at the far end. “She’s been itchin’ to get out on the trails again, so I’d say you’re about to make her day.” As they walked toward the stall, Morgan couldn’t help but admire how easily Eva seemed to fit into this world of his. The way she teased him, charmed his sisters, and now moved with confidence through the barn - it was all enough to make his chest ache in that way he hadn’t fully let himself feel in a long time. “She’s lookin’ good, huh?” Morgan asked as they reached Clover. He gave the mare a gentle pat on her neck, her ears flicking forward at the attention. “Still your favorite, I reckon?” He leaned against the stall door, watching as Clover nudged Eva’s arm, clearly remembering her. He busied himself saddling up his own horse, a sturdy gelding named Sequoia, while keeping half an ear on Brodie and Peyton’s chatter from outside. “You’re brave lettin’ them decide whether to tag along,” he teased lightly. “They might just show up with cameras, ready to document every second.” When both horses were ready, Morgan grabbed Clover’s reins and handed them to Eva. “Alright,” he said, his voice softening as he met her gaze. “The new trail isn't tricky at all, I promise.”

EVA only laughed as Brodie confirmed her twin's suggestion, and she was excited to see those photos now. "Having a twin seems kinda fun." She teased, though she couldn't imagine having one of her own. The half-things were enough as it was so an actual twin? Definitely not meant for her. Once he opened the barn door, she grinned as she headed right over to Clover's stall. "And to think that I was afraid to get close to a horse the first time I came out here." She teased as she wasted no time petting the horse. She still surprised herself with how much she actually enjoyed being around horses and going for rides now, but Morgan has sort of gotten her hooked and she had missed this, even if she'd been too pissed at him before to admit it. "In Clover's defense, she is the most calm, and the one who got me comfortable with all of this, so yeah. She just might be my favorite." She teased, petting the horse again before she glanced back towards the barn doors. "Hey, you left the decision up to me and I didn't want to seem rude if I told them they couldn't come. Or worse — they were already spying so even if I said they couldn't come, what makes you think they wouldn't have just tried being sneaky and following us anyways?" It's what all three of her siblings would have done, and even Jake and Bree would have done it too if they had been here, so she wouldn't have blamed Brodie and Peyton if she had tried getting rid of them. Pushing herself up and onto Clover, Eva made herself comfortable on the horse before taking the reigns from Morgan. "Oddly enough, I do at least you when it comes to this, so I'm fine. I'm not even nervous." She promised, and she truly wasn't. It was his ranch after all so she knew he wouldn't take her down some crazy trail, so she was more relaxed now than she'd been in a while. "So, why haven't you taken Clover out on the trails lately? Has she been too busy on movie sets, or were you just too busy with the other horses?"

MORGAN adjusted his hat as he swung into Sequoia’s saddle, the motion practiced but unhurried. Sequoia shifted slightly under him, but Morgan gave a gentle pat to the horse’s neck, calming him with a quiet touch. He glanced over at Eva, his smile soft and easy as she got comfortable on Clover. “She is somethin’ special, isn’t she?” he said, watching Clover nuzzle against Eva’s hand. “To be honest, she’s the one that makes me look good most days. I don’t know how she puts up with me neglectin’ her lately. Between the movie sets and the training, I’ve been so caught up in work I haven’t given her much attention.” His smile turned sheepish, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Feels like all I’ve been doin’ is runnin’ from one thing to the next.” As they started down the trail, Morgan kept Sequoia at an easy pace beside Clover, the rhythm of the ride calming the usual busyness in his head. The breeze carried the scent of sun-warmed grass, and he breathed it in, his shoulders relaxing a little. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said after a moment, his tone quieter, “I’m grateful for the work. It’s more than I ever thought I’d have, doin’ somethin’ I love. But I reckon I get a little too focused sometimes.” He glanced at Eva with a humble smile, his brown eyes meeting hers briefly. When they crested a hill, Morgan pulled Sequoia to a stop, his gaze sweeping over the ranch below. The light painted the pastures in warm gold, and for the first time in a while, he let himself really take it in. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to come back out here,” he admitted, his voice low and thoughtful. “After everything, I mean. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hadn’t. But seein’ you here again? It’s good. Real good.” His smile turned soft, almost shy, as he glanced back at her. “Reminds me of why I kept doin’ what I was doing, although I should've respected y'all's space.” Morgan admitted, offering Eva a sad smile. “I'm sorry 'bout that, y'know?”

EVA furrowed her brows as Morgan talked about being caught up in work again, and she probably shouldn't have been surprised by that. He had a lot going on, so of course he would have thrown himself into work again. She didn't entirely like it, yet she knew it was just how he handled things. "She adores you, so I'm sure she understands. But for Clover's sake, if you need someone to come over and love on her while you're working, I'll do it." Maybe she was a little too into the horseback riding thing, at least with Clover, but it wouldn't be such a bad thing to come over and keep her from feeling so neglected. "But as for you, running doesn't solve your problems, you know? It's a temporary fix, like a bandaid — or at least that's what they tell me in AA about drinking my problems away." It was a stupid way to look at it, in her opinion, but deep down she knew it was true. But unlike drinking, the ride down the trail was more soothing, the peace and serenity offering a more delicate kind of comfort that she'd needed lately. Eva assumed that it also gave Morgan the same kind of tranquil space to just pause and let everything sink in, which is why she assumed he was just freely rambling off how he felt. Stopping right beside him and Sequoia, she sighed as she just kept listening, not wanting to interrupt since he obviously needed to get all of this off his chest. But once he finished, she shrugged nonchalantly. "You had it all figured out before, you know? Balancing work with time for yourself...and others. I know there's been a lot going on lately, but you still need to make time to just breathe, or just give yourself a break." She knew that was easier said than done, but he still needed to hear it anyways. "And honestly, I didn't even know if I'd ever come back out here. I almost didn't. You can thank her for that." She teased as she softly ran her hand along Clover's neck before she glanced over at Morgan again. "I can't speak for Noah, but it was never really about the space for me. It was you love bombing us after you'd fucked us over." She admitted, giving a slight shake of her head before she looked his way again. "I didn't need a condo full of poppies, a table full of food, or you publicly declaring your love for me. What I needed was for you, and Noah, to have figured your shit out before you got me invested in something that neither of you were ready to commit to. I needed you to have worked out your feelings for her before you fed me all that shit about how you felt about us. You went and had sex with her immediately after that conversation and then days later, you were trying to convince me that all of this is love." Pausing, Eva was at least grateful that she'd cried enough over the past few weeks and couldn't bear herself to will another tear now even if she'd wanted to; however, the hurt and anger from Morgan's actions were clearly still lingering. "I don't trust either one of you, and I don't know if I ever will again, but I've missed you. I've missed the stupid Hannah marathons, the riding lessons, definitely the dinners — but I don't know how to just be friends with you or Noah after everything we've been through."

MORGAN kept his hands loose on the reins as he listened to Eva’s words. The sting of her honesty hit deep, but he didn’t flinch away from it. He deserved it - every word. He let out a soft sigh, his gaze dropping. “You’re right,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with regret. “I was selfish. I thought I could fix everything with grand gestures ‘cause I didn’t know what else to do. And I wasn’t ready. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for all the ways I hurt you.” Morgan looked over at Eva then, his eyes filled with humility and a quiet ache. “I don’t blame you for not trustin’ me. I don’t know if there’s anythin’ I can say to change that, and honestly, I wouldn’t expect it to happen overnight anyway.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, the weight of his mistakes hanging between them. “I thought if I could show you and Noah how much I cared, it’d make up for all the times I let you down. But that’s not love, is it? Love isn’t about provin’ somethin’ after you’ve messed up. It’s about showin’ up before it ever gets to that point.” He sighed again, his shoulders slumping slightly. Morgan gave Sequoia a gentle nudge forward, and a click of his tongue, encouraging the horse to move forward again. After a few moments, he spoke again, his tone softer. He hesitated, his hand brushing the edge of his belt. “I don’t know how to fix what’s broken between us, Eva. I don’t even know if I can. I just know I don't want to be without you in my life. So if I have to keep waitin' then I will. Because I meant what I said in my text. I'm happy just being in love with ya.” Morgan’s gaze shifted back to her, a small, humble smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “And you know you're always welcome to come out here to love on Clover while I’m workin’, I reckon she’d be just as grateful as I would. Selfishly, I enjoy havin' ya around too.” There was no pleading in his voice, no expectation. Just a quiet hope, fragile but sincere, as they continued their ride down the trail.

EVA might not admit it, but being subjected to AA and her family's unprovoked opinions had sort of helped, at least in getting her to just say whatever the hell she wanted to say to her dumb asses. She wasn't even aiming to hurt Morgan anymore, but they weren't going to get far if she didn't tell them the truth, so she was just going with it. Meeting his gaze as he spoke, she started processing what he was saying and was tempted to interrupt him, but she decided to just stay silent and let him get out what he needed to say. Once Morgan got Sequoia going again, she clicked her tongue just like he'd taught her to do and Clover was on the move as well, and her mind was racing as she tried to decide what else she needed to say to him. Or better yet, what else he needed to hear. "I've only seen one example of love in my life and truthfully, everything you and Noah did reminded me of that — of my parents. The only time they say or show that they love each other is after one of them, usually my mom, fucks up, so you going out of your way to prove you loved us after everything just kinda felt like that." Eva stated and sighed. "And deep down I know that you two aren't them, but with everything's that happened since we started whatever we were, I just can't guarantee that there is a way to fix this — at least not romantically." She ignored the way that saying that stung, since it was true whether any of them liked it or not. "I am trying to be okay with us still being in each other's lives and being...something close to friends, maybe? That's why I decided to come today, but it's just gonna take some time to get as close as we were before."

MORGAN kept Sequoia at an easy pace, his gaze shifting between Eva and the trail ahead as she spoke. He let the silence stretch out for a moment once she finished, letting her words settle like the crisp breeze brushing through the trees. Finally, he exhaled. “I get it,” he said softly, glancing over at her with a bittersweet smile. “And I can’t say I blame you for feelin’ that way. I never wanted to remind you of somethin’ hurtful, but I can see now how my actions came across. And I hate that - hate that I made you feel like what we had wasn’t real, or that it was somethin’ you couldn’t trust.” Morgan reached up to adjust his hat, buying himself a second to gather his thoughts. “I've admired you since the day we met, y'know? Not just with how much you've achieved, but with how brave you've been, going into it all. The way you’re able to just put it all out there, even when it hurts, that’s somethin’ I’ve admired about you since gettin' to know ya better. I guess I’m still workin’ on bein’ that honest with myself, let alone anyone else.” He gave a faint chuckle, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I want you to know that I respect where you’re at. I’ll take it, and I’ll be grateful for it.” Morgan glanced over at her again, his expression open and earnest. “I’m not expectin’ us to just go back to how things were. Hell, I’m not even sure we should. But whatever this ends up lookin’ like, I want it to be somethin’ real, somethin’ built on trust this time.” As they rode on, the quiet rhythm of the horses’ steps filled the space between them. “And for what it’s worth,” he added after a moment, his tone lighter but still sincere, “you’ve always been more than just a quick 'wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am'. You’re somethin’ special, Eva.” He didn’t press her for anything more, didn’t try to steer the conversation in any particular direction. He just rode beside her, content to let her set the pace - on the trail and in whatever came next for them.

EVA hadn't been baiting him for yet another apology, which he'd done more than his fair share of, but she still nodded in acceptance anyways. She was sure now that both Morgan and Puck were more than sorry for everything that had happened, and she was working to forgive them as much as she could which felt like...progress? It was better than where they were before, she supposed. Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she felt her face growing flush at his compliment, and damn if she didn't need the ego stroke today. "Thank you, Mr. Weston." She stated softly. "But being honest with yourself is pretty fucking hard, so I get that." She was still doing that work herself so she couldn't blame him for still struggling with it too. But at least he was okay with taking things at her pace and letting her be somewhat in control as far as where things went with them, and she knew Puck was too so that was something. She gave him a small smile when he expressed wanting them to build something that was real and based on trust this time, and while it sounded good, she was still skeptical about it; however, she'd just keep that to herself. Loosening her hold on the reigns a little as Clover kept trotting along, Eva felt a slight flutter in the pit of her stomach at her next admission. "I don't really feel like I'm anything special, but that's good to hear." She'd never say that to anyone else, but it felt right to be honest about it with Morgan. They rode a little further before she brought Clover to a halt, and then she furrowed her brows as she glanced over at him. "So what's going on with you and Noah anyways? Are you two gonna work things out and..I don't know, actually commit to each other now?"

MORGAN let the reins rest loose in his hands as Sequoia kept an easy pace beside Clover. Eva’s question wasn’t unexpected, but it still gave him pause. He tipped his hat back a little, the weight of the conversation matching the slow, steady rhythm of the horses’ steps. “I don’t know,” he said finally, his voice soft but honest. “The whole thing with Noah’s layered, y'know? It's complicated. And I guess I am, too, in my own way. After everything that happened, I think we’re both a little scared of messin’ it all up again.” He glanced over at her, his eyes warm but filled with a quiet kind of sadness. “He was there for me when my granddad passed. Even after sendin' him the same kinda voice note I sent you, he showed up. Helped me through a lot of dark days when I didn’t think I could handle any more.” Morgan’s gaze dropped to the trail for a moment, his thumb idly brushing the leather of the reins. He hadn't meant to just forget to tell Eva, but there was something happening. And in all fairness, he might've gotten overstimulated anyway, with both of them knowing at the same time. “I’ll always be grateful for that. It reminded me of why I loved him in the first place - why I still do.” Sequoia flicked an ear back at him, and Morgan gave the horse a gentle pat on the neck. “But I don’t want to rush back into somethin’ just to end up right back where we were. I think we both need time to figure out what we want, what we can actually handle. If we’re gonna try again, it’s gotta be right. For him, for me, and for anyone else who ends up a part of it.” He met her gaze then, hinting directly at her. There was only her. “I’m learnin’ the hard way that love can’t fix everything. It takes work - honest, messy work. But I want to be sure, you know?” Morgan exhaled, the weight of his words leaving his chest lighter than he expected. “What about you, though? You think there’s a chance you and him could figure somethin’ out? Or is it just too far gone, like with me?”

EVA didn't know what answer she was expecting, but with the way she'd tried to fight coming to Noah's for Thanksgiving, and was already basically considering his offer for Christmas, she hadn't known if Morgan had been in the same boat with him that she was in. But as she listened to Morgan's response, she wasn't entirely surprised that as soon as he'd gotten the news about Grandpa Weston, Noah had been right there taking care of Morgan. It was just how he was so she wouldn't have expected anything less, and she could understand why that alone was enough to spark such a reminder. It also helped explain why the whole Thanksgiving set up had happened, and she was even more sure now that Noah's hope was bound to bring them all back together somehow, even if it wasn't how they all hoped it would. Eva squirmed under his gaze when he obviously hinted at her, and clearly Clover took note of it with the way her ears perked up, and Eva just ran a hand along her neck to signal that she was fine...mostly, anyways. Once her own question was turned on her, she shrugged. "I never said it was too far gone with you, you know? And Noah's not entirely off the hook either. I know his therapy and stuff is going well and he said he's doing better now, but I don't trust him either. Even if he didn't have feelings for anyone he slept with, he still hurt us too — as far as I'm concerned, you two are in the same boat." But Eva knew that wasn't exactly answering his question, which felt slightly harder to answer in her current mindset, yet she did sort of have an answer. "But as far as us figuring something out, just him and I? The answer's no. Or not..that came out wrong. If things were to go there again, I can't see myself doing this without both of you. I mean, if I had to, then maybe, but...I don't know, it would just be weird not being with both of you when I love—" Eva's entire body froze when that word slipped out, and she was sure that her face had gone pale now. It was almost like she could hear her entire family's nagging in her ear and with all of them repeatedly pointing out that she loved Morgan and Puck, maybe she had subconsciously accepted it already. Yet that was the first time she'd said it, and now she felt entirely too many emotions to unpack now. "You know, we should probably head back now. I'm sure Brodie found one of her old high school pictures by now, and I uh..we can turn both of your sisters into Hannah fans." Eva suggested, and she didn't even wait for a response before she was clicking her tongue and tugging on the reigns, and Clover started back down the trail again, though not fast enough for her liking.

MORGAN glanced over at Eva, his chest tightening at the way the sun caught the loose strands of her hair. She looked beautiful, as always, but there was something else - something raw and vulnerable about the way she carried herself in that moment. He knew he and Noah had hurt her, had failed her, and no matter how many times he said he was sorry, it would never be enough to erase the damage. But hearing her say that she didn’t trust either of them yet, that she put them in the same boat, felt like a dagger twisting in his gut. Still, Morgan respected her honesty more than anything else. It took guts to say what she was saying, and that alone made him love her even more. He kept his gaze on the trail ahead, the reins loose in his hands as Sequoia moved steadily forward. “I get that,” he said quietly, his voice soft but firm. “And I reckon you’re right to feel that way. Trust ain’t something we can rush, and I don’t expect you to give it back just ‘cause I want it. But-...” He hesitated, his voice trailing off as he fought the urge to say more, to beg her to believe in him again. This was so unlike him; he usually knew what to say, and Eva had him thinking things through a million times before. Instead, he glanced over at her, his expression open and earnest. “I hope someday I can earn it back - for real this time.” When Eva started to speak again, Morgan focused on her, his full attention drawn to every word. And then it came; the word that changed everything. Love. His breath caught as her voice faltered, and for a second, he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. But the look on her face - the way her eyes widened in panic, her cheeks flushing - confirmed it. She tried to backtrack, stumbling over her words, but it was too late. The truth had slipped out, and it hit Morgan like a freight train. He didn’t say a word, didn’t dare interrupt her. But his heart was pounding, his chest tight with emotions he couldn’t begin to sort through. She loves me. The realization was overwhelming, and he didn’t even try to hide the way his lips curved into the smallest of smiles. When Eva abruptly suggested heading back, Morgan nodded, his voice caught somewhere between his throat and his heart. He didn’t trust himself to speak, not yet. As they made their way back to the barn, Morgan’s thoughts raced. By the time they dismounted and led the horses inside, he knew he couldn’t let her leave without saying something; or showing her something. The moment her back was turned, Morgan acted. He crossed the stable floor in a few long strides, grabbing her waist and pulling her gently but firmly behind one of the half-walls, up against the nearest wooden post. His fingers curled around her hips, holding her in place as his chest pressed against hers. Before she could say anything, he leaned down and kissed her. This wasn’t the gentle, cautious kiss from Thanksgiving; it was raw, desperate, full of everything he hadn’t said and everything he couldn’t hold back anymore. It wasn’t a demand. It was a confession, a promise, a thousand unspoken words wrapped into one moment. His hand slid up to cradle her cheek, his thumb brushing softly against her skin as he kissed her like it was the only thing that mattered. He didn’t pull back until the sound of his sisters’ voices echoed into the barn. He pulled away softly, because all he wanted, was to keep going, showing her how much she meant to him, but instead, he managed to place just one more gentle ending to it all, right on her lips, before forcing himself to step away, so his sisters didn't see anything. “Eva, who'd you say I looked like again?” The sound of Brodie's voice could be heard as they made their way over to them, and Peyton’s laughter broke through the barn, while Morgan turned his back to them and started busying himself with unsaddling Clover. But he couldn't help but let his twitch slightly upwards in a smile, still feeling hers on them.

EVA had practically lost the ability to even register anything else once she'd slipped up, so getting back to the barn was all that mattered. And as soon as they made it back, she climbed off of Clover and gave her a few more loving pats to make sure she felt the love, and to signal that she would at least be back soon, even if it was while Morgan was busy with the other horses so she didn't have to deal with the love thing any time soon. But of course Morgan Weston, the same man who was into grand gestures and getting names tattooed on him, wasn't about to let her off the hook that easily. And in her attempt to avoid making eye contact with him, she had left herself unprepared for what happened next. It all happened in a bit of a blur, and even Eva hadn't been able to process anything until his lips were on hers. Fuck! This was exactly what she'd been afraid of, and after their close call earlier, she had been maintaining a safe distance from him to ensure that this wouldn't happen, yet here they were. And much like she'd expected, her resolve was far too weak, much like her body, and she didn't even miss a beat as she kissed him back. Her kisses at Thanksgiving hadn't been planned, yet she'd methodically limited them to chaste kisses, just enough to let them know that she had obviously still cared about them. But this wasn't that — this time, she didn't hold back, not even a little bit as she matched his intensity of the kiss. Her mind was spiraling at this point, and by the time Morgan finally broke away from the kiss as his sisters caught up with them, she was at a complete loss for how to form words again. Brodie's question went in one ear and right out the other as she pushed herself off of the wooden post, trying to pull herself back together so she didn't give away what had just happened, which was damn near impossible with how flushed her face was now. Readjusting her clothes, Eva eventually managed to swallow the lump in her throat before shaking her head. "I uh…I should go." She muttered, her tone much softer than it ever was as she turned to Brodie and Peyton. "It was nice meeting you both, and I'm sure I'll see you both again sometime." Or maybe she wouldn't and she'd never have to die of embarrassment like this again, but only time would tell. And with Morgan's back turned towards them, she could at least look his way now. "And um..take care, Mr. Weston. We'll talk…soon, I guess." That was all she could get out before turning on her heels and practically running right out of the barn, desperate to get into her car and head home so she could unpack what had happened with Pia.

Patrick Flanagan sat in his dimly lit apartment, nursing a tumbler of whiskey that had long since lost its bite. Outside, the streets of Los Angeles sparkled with Christmas cheer - strings of colored lights glimmered in apartment windows, and carolers’ voices drifted up from the sidewalk below. It was a far cry from the sterile hum of prison lights or the cold stone streets of Glasgow where he’d grown up. Not even Christmas in Vegas felt right. But Patrick didn’t care. He’d stopped caring about Christmas a long time ago.

Two years in prison had hardened him further, though he thought he was already granite before they locked him up. What softened him now was the quiet - a deafening, nagging sort of silence that followed him like a shadow. His mother had been gone for three years, murdered during a robbery gone wrong back in Glasgow, just weeks after he’d been arrested in Las Vegas. That ache never went away, no matter how many drinks he poured or how many bitter curses he whispered under his breath.

The smell of pine wafted faintly from somewhere outside. Patrick’s neighbor had dragged a fresh Christmas tree up the stairs earlier that day, her kids chattering excitedly about Santa Claus as they passed his door. He’d ignored their cheery greetings, retreating further into the solitude of his apartment. Now, the faint scent only made him feel more alone.

He stood and walked to the window, staring down at the street below. Families bustled along the sidewalks, arms full of shopping bags and wrapped gifts. The sound of bells jingling from a Salvation Army volunteer’s bucket mixed with snippets of carols from a nearby speaker. The warmth of it all grated on his nerves, but beneath the irritation was a hollow ache he couldn’t ignore.

Patrick glanced at the corner of his living room, where a small cardboard box sat unopened. It had arrived two days ago, addressed to him in neat, unfamiliar handwriting. He hadn’t had the nerve to open it yet. He wasn’t sure who would even send him something; he’d burned most of his bridges years ago. But curiosity gnawed at him now.

With a resigned sigh, he crossed the room and knelt by the box. He sliced through the tape with a kitchen knife and pulled back the flaps. Inside was a small, artificial Christmas tree, complete with a string of battery-operated lights and a handwritten note.

“Patrick,

Christmas is a time for second chances, for remembering the good in the world and in yourself. Let the light of this tree remind you of what truly matters - love, hope, and the kindness you still have to give. Merry Christmas.”

There was no signature, no indication of who it was from. Patrick sat back on his heels, staring at the note. His first instinct was skepticism - a joke, maybe, or some misguided act of charity. But as he read the words again, he felt something shift. Something quieter. Warmer.

Patrick set the note aside and pulled the little tree from the box. It was a cheap thing, its plastic branches slightly bent from being crammed in the packaging. But as he set it on the coffee table and wound the lights around it, he couldn’t deny the small spark of life it brought to the room. He flicked on the lights, and the tiny bulbs twinkled softly, casting a gentle glow that seemed to soften the edges of the apartment.

He sat back on the couch, the whiskey forgotten on the table. For a long time, he just stared at the tree, letting its quiet presence fill the space. The scent of pine from his neighbor’s tree mingled with the faint glow of the lights, and for the first time in years, the silence didn’t feel so suffocating.

Patrick leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He didn’t know who had sent the tree, and maybe it didn’t matter. What mattered was the flicker of something it had sparked in him - a reminder that, despite everything, there was still good in the world. And maybe, just maybe, there was still good in him, too.