The Record Keeper's Heart

Previously on The Record Keeper's Heart: The air in Vinyl Havens hummed with the low thrum of the bassline, a constant companion to the clatter of dishes and the murmur of conversation. Rowan sat hunched over their notebook, pen scratching across the page as they tried to capture the essence of the moment.

Dear Morgan,

I find myself drawn to the way your hands move when you speak, the way your eyes light up when you talk about your ranch. It’s like watching the sunrise over the mountains, all warm hues and soft light.

Rowan looked up, their gaze drawn to Morgan who stood behind the counter, carefully wiping down the espresso machine. His movements were measured, deliberate, each one speaking to the care he took in everything he did.

“How’s the research going?” Casey’s voice cut through Rowan’s reverie, their tone light and teasing.

Rowan jumped, slamming their notebook shut. “It’s… going,” they mumbled, feeling a blush creep up their neck.

Casey raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of their lips. “Uh-huh. And does this research involve a certain tall, dark, and rugged rancher?”

“Shut up,” Rowan muttered, but they couldn’t help the smile that tugged at their lips.

The bell above the door jingled, and Morgan looked up, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “Morning, Rowan. The usual?”

“Yes, please,” Rowan said, sliding onto one of the stools at the counter. They watched as Morgan moved around the small space, his hands sure and steady as he pulled shots and steamed milk.

“So, what’s new in the world of sustainable farming?” Morgan asked, sliding a mug across the counter.

Rowan wrapped their hands around the warm ceramic, the heat seeping into their bones. “Just trying to figure out how to make the data sing, you know? How to make people care about soil health and crop rotation.”

Morgan chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You’ve always had a way with words, Rowan. I’m sure you’ll find the right ones.”

Their conversations flowed easily, from the minutiae of daily life to the bigger questions that kept them both up at night. Rowan found themselves lingering longer and longer at the record store, drawn to the easy companionship and the sense of belonging they felt there.

Later that evening, Rowan sat cross-legged on their bed, the glow of their laptop screen the only light in the room. They opened a new document, their fingers hovering over the keys.

Dear Morgan,

There’s something about the way you listen, really listen, that makes me feel seen in a way I didn’t know I craved. You make me want to be braver, to reach for the things I’ve always been too afraid to want.

They stared at the words on the screen, their heart pounding in their chest. With a sigh, they saved the document and closed their laptop, the unspoken confession still burning on their tongue.

The next day, Rowan found themselves back at Vinyl Havens, drawn like a moth to a flame. Morgan was behind the counter again, his head bent over a notebook of his own.

“What are you working on?” Rowan asked, leaning their elbows on the counter.

Morgan looked up, a smile lighting up his face. “Just jotting down some ideas for the ranch. Trying to figure out how to balance sustainability with practicality.”

Rowan nodded, their own passion for the subject rising to the surface. “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? How do we make the right choices, even when they’re the hard ones?”

Morgan held their gaze, something warm and steady in his eyes. “I think we just have to keep showing up, keep trying. And hope that maybe, someday, we’ll get it right.”

Rowan’s heart clenched in their chest, the unspoken words from the night before rising to the surface. They swallowed hard, looking away.

“Hey, you okay?” Morgan asked, his voice soft.

Rowan forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

But as they looked back at Morgan, they couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, they could be brave enough to reach for what they wanted.

Previously on The Record Keeper’s Heart: But as they looked back at Morgan, they couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, they could be brave enough to reach for what they wanted.

A few weeks later, Rowan found themselves back at Vinyl Havens, but the easy comfort they usually felt was replaced by a gnawing unease. Morgan was behind the counter, but he wasn’t alone. A tall, dark-haired man stood beside him, their heads bent close together as they laughed at something Rowan couldn’t hear.

Rowan swallowed hard, pasting a smile on their face as they approached the counter. “Hey, Morgan. How’s it going?”

Morgan looked up, his smile warm as ever. “Rowan! Good to see you. This is Eli, he’s new in town. Eli, this is Rowan, one of our regulars.”

Eli turned, his smile bright and easy. “Nice to meet you, Rowan. Morgan’s told me a lot about you.”

Rowan’s heart clenched in their chest, their smile feeling brittle and forced. “All good things, I hope.”

“Of course,” Eli said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Only the best for Morgan’s friends.”

Friends. The word echoed in Rowan’s head, a cruel reminder of the distance between them.

They made small talk for a few more minutes, Rowan’s responses feeling more and more strained. When Eli excused himself to use the restroom, Rowan let out a breath they hadn’t realized they were holding.

“So, you and Eli, huh?” They tried to keep their tone light, but they could hear the edge of bitterness creeping in.

Morgan looked at them, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. He’s a good guy. We’ve been spending some time together.”

Rowan nodded, looking away. “That’s great. I’m happy for you.”

But they weren’t. Not really. The thought of Morgan with someone else, sharing the easy intimacy they’d always had, made Rowan’s stomach twist into knots.

They mumbled an excuse about needing to get back to work and hurried out of the store, their chest tight and aching.

That night, Rowan found themselves reaching for their laptop, the need to pour their feelings out onto the page almost overwhelming.

Dear Morgan,

I saw you with Eli today. The way you looked at him, the way you laughed together… it made me realize how much I’ve taken for granted. How much I’ve assumed would always be there, even if I never had the courage to reach for it.

They stared at the words on the screen, their heart pounding in their throat. They wanted to say more, to tell Morgan everything they were feeling, but the words wouldn’t come. With a sigh, they saved the document and closed their laptop, the unspoken confession still burning on their tongue.

The next day, Rowan found themselves back at Vinyl Havens, drawn by a force they couldn’t resist. They needed to see Morgan, to reassure themselves that things were still the same between them.

But when they walked in, Morgan and Eli were behind the counter again, their heads bent close together as they worked on what looked like a new display for the store.

Rowan’s heart sank, and they quickly ducked into the back room, hoping to avoid being seen.

They found Casey there, sorting through a box of new inventory. “Hey, Rowan. What’s up?”

Rowan hesitated, biting their lip. “Nothing. Just… hiding out for a bit.”

Casey raised an eyebrow. “Hiding out? From what?”

Rowan sighed, running a hand through their hair. “From Morgan. And his new… friend.”

Casey’s expression softened. “Ah. I see. Want to talk about it?”

Rowan shrugged, not meeting Casey’s eyes. “I don’t know. It’s just… hard, you know? Seeing him with someone else.”

Casey nodded slowly. “Yeah. I get that. It’s never easy, watching someone you care about find happiness with someone else.”

Rowan looked up, surprised by the understanding in Casey’s voice. “You do?”

“Of course,” Casey said, setting aside the record they were holding. “I’ve been there. It sucks.”

Rowan swallowed hard, the lump in their throat making it hard to speak. “I just… I thought we had something, you know? I thought maybe, given time…”

They trailed off, shaking their head. “I don’t know. Maybe I was just imagining it.”

Casey reached out, placing a hand on Rowan’s arm. “Hey. Don’t do that. Don’t discount what you’re feeling.”

Rowan took a shaky breath, nodding. “I’m trying. It’s just… hard.”

“I know,” Casey said gently. “But you’re not alone, okay? We’re all here for you. No matter what happens.”

Rowan managed a small smile, grateful for Casey’s support. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

They talked for a while longer, Casey offering a sympathetic ear and a willingness to listen that Rowan desperately needed. By the time they emerged from the back room, Rowan felt a little lighter, a little more able to face what came next.