<span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">"Well, you both deserve the best for your happiest day," Morgen stated with a smile, "and I'm glad you it went well. I wish my Dubai project didn't need me that weekend, but I would have been unemployed if I didn't travel then."<br/>
<br/>
Morgen hated lying -- it went against ethos and nature of being an earnest, intense, and <b>honest </b>person. Yet, it was the one untruth he promised himself he'd abide for his sanity's sake. They both ruined his life for their own selfish purposes -- who were the to judge what he did for himself? He sighed to himself with an internal vehemence as echoed of petulance -- not something Morgen felt proud to harbor. He'd invited the pair over to lord over them privately, and yet he found them both centered and blissfully serene, where has HE was the one on edge. Irony could be a cruel bastard, he supposed. <br/>
<br/>
Even his adamance about ogling the waitress has them both in the same boat. Had they both 'gelled' and melded personalities in the years he'd been away? Or were they just so perfect for one another that he never had a chance even if Jourdan never encountered Freya? What made their presence all the more annoying was the <i>HE </i>had been working on the waitress before they arrived. His efforts felt corrupted; if he got to third base with the waitress, would he walk into their place to find said waitress in their bed? <br/>
<br/>
<i>Fuck me</i>, Morgen thought in utter irritation. He had been so sure that he'd gotten over the both of them, but it was ultra-apparent that he needed therapy to process the anger out of his system. When he glanced at Freya, he smiled affably, but inside he could only see a woman who took selfishly without thought or gratitude. How long would this little reunion go on? One thing was for certain, if Morgen was going to endure it there needed to be more shots involved. <br/>
<br/>
"Another round of shots," he called to the waitress. "Make them doubles."<br/>
<br/>
The honeymoon, which Morgen categorically blocked from his mind, had been brought up. "I actually had not seen the photo," he admitted truthfully. "I'll have to look it up some time ... I'm sure it's amazing, and I'm sure that YOU were beautiful," he said to Jourdan at the end. It then became apparent that Jourdan's hand had lingered on his far longer than expected or necessary. Her knee remained in place and he got the distinct impression that Jourdan, at the very least, felt comfortable enough around him to exhibit some degree of familiar intimacy. That ... appeased the aggrieved man. She always did have a calming influence upon him, which also explained why she could tolerate Freya's assertive nature -- which could come across as barking bitchiness, if he were honest. <br/>
<br/>
Morgen decided he had to stop himself and hit the reset button -- he retracted his knee and brought his hands to fish in his pockets. Ostensibly to pay for the incoming shots <a class="link link--external" href="https://i.imgur.com/68NGPyZ.gif" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">poured into the glasses upon the table</a>, he handed bills to the waitress and set shot glasses out in front of everyone. "Boy, do I miss the old times," he said, a hint of wistful truth in his delivery. Morgen then became the conversationalist that working at the Architectural Foundation in New York City had taught him to be. He carried on with both women for some minutes, asking about Freya's family and where Jourdan's favorite location was for photo shoots. <br/>
<br/>
The alcohol had begun to take effect, and Morgen shifted closer to both women (in the way alcohol can bring people to huddle in conspiracy). He conveyed the wild world of architecture, the jokes about the NYC Planning Department, and how he once had to pretend to be an irrigation worker to pass a Saudi checkpoint in order to catch his plane home. He laughed and for an hour forgot the pain and heavy heart that had defined him for so long. Alcohol also piqued his libido, and when a fine redhead entered the tavern and winked at him, sitting a few feet away, Morgen felt on top of the world.<br/>
<br/>
"I might need to work my Morgen Magic on that fair lass there," he muttered groggily to Freya, reminiscent of their days before Jourdan. "You two have someone one another tonight ... I still have work to do if I want to get lucky this evening." Morgen sighed, feeling a distinct lack of luck that hampered his desire to make a drunk fool of himself by hitting on the stunning redhead. His attention returned to his companions. "So, where are you both in your journey of marriage?" he asked. "You know ... isn't there a checklist of things like a dog, a house, a Subaru and matching canoe, kids ..."</span>