Morrigan & Calvin | Saturday Morning
Of course it was Calvin. Morrigan felt a strange mix of relief, gratitude, and resentment. She was glad that he was there to see her, because it meant he still cared about her, but this was not how she wanted to see him again. She had wanted to show him that she was managing on her own, that she didn't need him here, so that he would not have to feel any guilt on her account for his decision to leave. Instead, he was here now, when she was feeling so very low, and she felt a foreboding sensation that she was going to mess things up again. She hardly had her wits about her, she didn't want to say something wrong, which she felt she had done in some way every time they spoke. No matter how hard she tried, she always messed it up.
But she would never turn him away, so she just nodded as he asked that soft question. It was selfish, perhaps, because there were so many others who must need him right now, who would be craving the comfort of his spiritual guidance, and yet Morrie so wanted the comfort of his gentle, firm hands on her.
"Has anyone improved?" she asked in a low voice, but there was no hope in her eyes at the question. Perhaps they would all die of this disease, and the immune Cloves would have their beautiful, empty lands to rule. She wouldn't be surprised if it was orchestrated. Then, remembering Ciara's cold insistence that she was fine, Morrie asked, "Have you been to Antoine's?"