Unleashed (The Elliott Brothers #2)

Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

S lade’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “Maybe you should go to the fucking doctor!” he yelled, his eyes blazing with frustration.

I recoiled slightly but held my ground. “I told you it would take time.”

“Time?” He scoffed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been five months. Don’t you think there’s something wrong?”

I clenched my fists, my patience wearing thin. “Yeah, you’re never home when I’m ovulating. What happened to Allan handling all the travel bullshit? You seem to be away more than you're here.”

“I’m building a business,” Slade retorted, his tone clipped as he turned away from me, heading toward the window.

“That’s crap,” I spat. “Your company has a solid reputation, thanks to your father.”

He spun around, his face hardening. “But we’re expanding. And as my wife, I expect you to understand that.”

“Why the fuck should I? You want to blame me for not getting pregnant when you’re hardly ever home?”

Slade’s jaw tightened, and he mumbled under his breath, “If I knew then…”

My heart dropped, my pulse quickening. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he slammed the terrace door behind him, stepping outside and shutting me out, leaving me alone with the distant hum of the city. I stood frozen for a moment, the sound of the glass rattling echoing in my ears. I knew exactly what he meant—he regretted marrying me. He wished he’d known what kind of wife I would be before he put that ring on my finger.

Tears pricked my eyes as I watched his tense silhouette through the glass, staring out at the park across the street. His shoulders were hunched, his body radiating frustration and distance. We were standing mere feet from each other but might as well have been miles apart. The longer it took for me to get pregnant, the more distant and hostile he became.

I swiped at my eyes, shaking with a mixture of anger and sadness. The stress of our strained marriage weighed heavily on me, making it harder to believe that I could conceive at all. It wasn’t just the constant fighting or his frequent absences—it was the nagging suspicion that Slade wasn’t being faithful. Six months into our marriage, and my husband had become someone I didn’t recognize, someone I didn’t even like.

Sighing, I grabbed my phone and retreated into the bedroom, closing the door behind me to muffle the sound of the city and Slade’s brooding presence. I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands trembling as I scrolled through my contacts. I needed to talk to someone, to hear a friendly voice.

I dialed Erika, praying she’d answer. It rang twice before her familiar, melodic voice filled the line. “Hey, girl,” she greeted, her tone light and cheerful, lifting some of the weight off my chest.

A smile tugged at my lips despite everything. “Hi.”

Her voice immediately sharpened with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I lied, my voice faltering. “Everything is fine.”

“Fucking liar,” Erika shot back, without missing a beat. “I know it’s not. Is asshole at it again?”

“At what again?” I asked, though we both knew the answer.

“Some of it, all of it,” she said, her voice filled with frustration. “You should leave him. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Who does?” I muttered, bitterness seeping into my tone.

“Michael,” she answered bluntly.

I felt a pang in my chest at the mention of his name. “Don’t bring him up. He’s my past, and I made my bed.”

Erika sighed, exasperated. “He loves you, and as far as making your bed, you didn’t sign up for Slade Abbott’s ever-changing moods. For Christ’s sake, he’s fucking other women. Why can’t you cut the cord? What does he have to do—fuck them in your bed?”

I gripped the phone tighter, my breath catching. “I told you I suspect he’s cheating. I don’t know if he actually has.”

“I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything,” she muttered, her voice growing tense. “I hoped you’d figure it out on your own.”

A cold wave of dread washed over me. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw Slade,” she blurted, the words tumbling out too quickly.

My heart pounded. “Saw him what?”

“With another woman.”

The room spun, my fingers gripping the edge of the bed. “When? Doing what?”

“A few days ago at The Diamond Square. He was coming out of a hotel room... with a girl. She couldn’t be older than twenty.”

My pulse roared in my ears. “Dammit, Erika, why the hell didn’t you tell me sooner?” I yelled, my voice trembling with a mix of rage and betrayal.

“I didn’t know how to approach it,” she admitted, her voice softening. “I’m torn over this—just ask Lincoln.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to process the bombshell she’d dropped. “Slade’s going to deny it,” I muttered, my voice flat.

“Check his credit card statements,” Erika suggested, the edge returning to her voice.

“He handles all the bills. The statements go straight to his email.”

She was silent for a moment before she said firmly, “You need to leave him.”

“And go where?” I whispered, the weight of my situation pressing down on me. “I work for him. He pays for my parents’ assisted living. I can’t afford that on my own. If I leave him, I lose everything.”

Erika’s voice was filled with disbelief. “What has he done to you?”

“You mean, has he hit me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “But he’s torn your confidence down. You weren’t like this six months ago. You were strong and independent.”

I closed my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I can’t just accuse him of sleeping with someone without proof.”

“Would you like Lincoln to get the security tapes from the hotel?” Erika offered, her voice hardening with resolve. “He’s good friends with Oliver Fox.”

My heart pounded in my chest as I weighed my options, knowing that nothing would ever be the same again.

“I feel sick, like I want to throw up.”

Without warning, I threw the phone on the bed and bolted to the bathroom. My stomach twisted violently as I hunched over the toilet, retching. When I finally emerged, pale and drained, Erika was still on the line.

“I hope to God you’re not pregnant with that snake’s baby,” she said bluntly.

“You and me both,” I croaked, wiping my mouth. “This is the worst time to even think about a baby.”

“If you need a place to stay, come here. We’ll figure something out. I’ll never abandon you. And hey, you’re still coming to the engagement party next weekend, right?”

“I said I would. Slade might not come, but I’ll be there.”

Just as I spoke, the bedroom door creaked open, and Slade stepped in. His scowl deepened when he saw me on the phone.

“Who the hell are you talking to?” Slade growled.

“Erika,” I replied evenly.

His eyes narrowed as he scratched his crotch and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. I winced at the noise, then grabbed the phone and slipped out onto the terrace for some privacy. It was a cold March Sunday, but the sun was shining, and for a moment, I let the brisk air clear my head.

“Fucker,” Erika spat through the phone. “I hope he doesn’t come to the party.”

“He just might, to spite you,” I muttered, watching Slade through the window as he grabbed a beer from the fridge. “He’s intuitive, you know. You weren’t exactly nice to him at dinner last time.”

“Well, if he thought I was a bitch then, just wait.”

I frowned as Slade popped the beer top, carelessly tossing the cap onto the counter. The casual disrespect stung, but I was too drained to react.

“Let me go,” I said, sighing. “I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Please make a decision. I’ll back you, whatever you choose.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. I just want you to be happy.”

“Thanks,” I whispered before hanging up. Taking a deep breath, I turned back inside.

Slade was sprawled on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV. Without looking at me, he sneered, “What the fuck did that bitch want?”

“Don’t you dare call her that,” I snapped, feeling the heat rise in my chest.

“I wonder what lies you tell her behind my back.”

“Nothing that isn’t true.”

He turned to glare at me. “What did you fucking say?”

“You heard me.” My voice was steadier than I expected.

Slade stood, beer in hand, looming over me. “You should watch your mouth. I hold all the cards here.”

He took a long swig, grabbed a bag of pretzels, and flopped back down, eyes glued to the screen. It was then, watching him shove pretzels into his mouth between sips of beer, that the decision hit me like a wave. I had to leave. Slade wasn’t going to change, not for me or for anyone. He’d made that clear.

By the time the third inning of the baseball game ended, I had packed a suitcase, dressed in jeans and a sweater, and let Erika know I was coming to stay. My black suitcase sat by the door as I slipped on my blue wool coat.

“What the hell is this?” Slade screamed, his face flushed with anger.

“I need space,” I said, pulling on my gloves.

“Space for what? So you can run to Erika’s and let her shit-talk me?”

“I’m going to Erika’s for some peace. Something I don’t get here.”

“If you walk out that door, you lose everything,” he threatened, stepping closer. “Your job. I won’t pay for your parents’ assisted living anymore. And our marriage? Done.”

“Funny how our marriage is last on that list,” I shot back. “You’ve changed, Slade. I want the man I married, not this asshole I see in front of me.”

“Get the fuck out, then. I’m better off without you.” His words dripped with venom.

I stared at him, disbelief mixing with the sadness already weighing me down. “So you can screw twenty-somethings?” I challenged, my voice shaking.

His face twisted, and for a moment, he struggled to respond. His mouth opened, then shut.

“That’s what I thought,” I said quietly, feeling the last bit of my heart harden. “How could you, Slade? We’ve been married less than a year, and you’ve already become someone I don’t even recognize.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to my father,” he spat.

“Why not? You’re exactly like him.”

“I’m not!” His fists clenched, but he didn’t move.

“I won’t argue. I’m done. I want the woman I was before you tore me down. Before you made me weak.”

I buttoned the last button on my coat and grabbed my suitcase. Slade’s eyes followed my every move, but he stayed rooted to the spot.

“Don’t go, Morgan,” he said, his voice suddenly softer. “We can fix this.”

“You should’ve thought of that before you cheated.”

“I didn’t!” he roared, his face twisting in desperation. “You have no proof!”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. I wheeled my suitcase to the elevator, not looking back as the apartment door closed with a thud behind me.

Tears threatened to spill as I stepped into the elevator, but I held them back. In the lobby, the doorman kindly hailed me a cab. I gave him a grateful nod, knowing the hardest part was already behind me.

I was leaving. And I wasn’t looking back.

I spent the entire week at Erika and Lincoln’s apartment, doing nothing but thinking. My future felt like it was slipping through my fingers. Every call from Slade was the same: promises, pleas, empty assurances that things would be different. But none of his words mattered. Unless he had an explanation for why he was in a hotel room with another woman, there was no turning back.

The day of Erika and Lincoln’s engagement party loomed, but celebration was the last thing on my mind. I forced myself to smile, to be happy for my best friend, while silently praying her marriage wouldn’t crash and burn the way mine had. Lincoln’s presence was a constant reminder of Michael—what could have been, had I made different choices.

“Morgan?” Erika’s voice carried through the closed door of the guest bedroom.

“You can come in,” I called, pulling myself out of my spiraling thoughts. “I’m decent.”

“That remains to be seen,” she teased as she entered, flashing a grin. Her hair was pinned back in soft waves, and her makeup was flawless, accentuating the glow of impending happiness. She looked effortlessly stunning.

I tried to return her smile but felt the effort falter. “Thanks.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Will you be alright today?”

“If you’re asking if I’ll ruin your day, I won’t,” I said, forcing a chuckle that sounded hollow even to me.

Erika tightened the belt of her short black silk robe and sat beside me on the bed. Her playful grin softened, replaced with concern. “Seriously, I couldn’t care less about my day. I care about you.”

“Forget me,” I said, waving off her concern. “This day is about you and Lincoln.”

Her eyes flickered with something unspoken before she finally said, “Michael will be there.”

My heart lurched at the mention of his name. I struggled to keep my voice steady. “Is he bringing a date?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Does he know?” I asked quietly. “Did Lincoln tell him my marriage is falling apart?”

Erika shook her head. “Lincoln would never betray your trust like that. It’s for you to tell, when you’re ready.”

I sighed, my heart heavy. “It’s probably better I stay away from Michael. He’s too... magnetic.”

Erika smirked, mischief flashing in her eyes. “If he wasn’t about to be my brother-in-law, I’d tell you to get Slade out of your system by sleeping with him.”

I let out a short, bitter laugh. “It wouldn’t be fair to Michael. The worst part? I still love him. I’m so messed up, Erika.”

Tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. Erika didn’t hesitate. She pulled me into her lap, cradling my head like a child’s as I sobbed into the soft silk of her robe. Her fingers gently stroked my hair, her voice soothing.

“It’s going to be alright, Morgan. You’ll get through this. I know it feels like everything’s falling apart, but you’re stronger than this.”

“I have nothing,” I whispered between sobs. “Everything is gone.”

She cupped my cheek, making me look at her. “You have so much more than nothing. I’m here for you. Lincoln’s here for you. You’re not alone.”

I sniffled, trying to pull myself together. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably fall apart just like this,” she teased, brushing the tears from my face with the pad of her thumb.

I laughed weakly. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Erika leaned down and kissed my tearstained cheek. “Now, why don’t you wash your face and put on that gorgeous black dress you brought?”

I nodded, wiping my face on the sleeve of my robe as I sat up. Erika stood, giving me one last reassuring smile before slipping out to finish getting dressed.

I was alone again, but her words echoed in my head, grounding me. Maybe I wasn’t as alone as I felt. Maybe there was a way forward—one step at a time.

As we stepped into The Garden Room at The W Hotel, I couldn’t help but admire how stunning everything looked. Erika’s wedding colors—shades of yellow and rust—draped the room in a bold, yet elegant statement. She always knew how to make an impression. But as much as I tried to focus on her happiness, my mind was elsewhere, spinning out of control.

The first thing I did was seek out Michael. My eyes locked onto him at the bar, sipping amber liquid from a crystal-etched glass. His ice-blue eyes cut through the crowd and landed squarely on mine. My breath hitched, and I quickly looked away, my heart racing. The last thing I wanted was for him to know I’d been staring.

Suddenly, the pressure to pee hit me—nerves, no doubt. I bolted from the room, narrowly avoiding an elderly woman as I rushed past her. "Oh God, I’m so sorry!" I apologized, barely slowing down. The restroom became my sanctuary, a brief escape from the storm inside me. After I used the bathroom, I found solace in the small lounge area, where the padded chairs provided a much-needed moment to collect myself.

But peace didn’t last long. When I stepped out, Michael was waiting for me, leaning casually against the wall, his navy pinstripe suit crisp, his pale yellow tie perfectly knotted.

“Hello, Michael,” I stuttered, trying to keep my voice steady.

His lips curled into that familiar, playful smirk. “Miss Kincaid,” he said, his voice smooth as ever.

I huffed, rolling my eyes. “You’ve fucked me. I think we can drop the formalities.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Fair enough. Do you want to talk?”

“What’s there to say?” I crossed my arms, trying to steel myself. “Where’s your date?”

“I didn’t bring one.”

“Why not? Every time I see you at a charity event, you’ve got some new woman on your arm. Plenty to choose from, I’m sure.” My words came out sharper than I intended, my bitterness spilling over.

Michael’s eyes flickered with amusement. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.”

I stepped closer, my voice low and dangerous. “I am. I’m so fucking green with jealousy, I want to spit.”

He studied me for a beat, then his gaze dropped to my left hand—the bare, ringless finger. His tone softened. “What’s going on, Morgan?”

“It’s a disaster,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I fumbled in my purse for tissues. Before I could find one, he reached inside his jacket and handed me his handkerchief, the small gesture somehow making the floodgates open.

“Here,” he said gently, pressing the cloth into my hand. “Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t hold back anymore. He led me to a small, unused conference room off the main hallway. The couch in the corner felt like a lifeboat as I sank into it, Michael sitting beside me. I couldn’t stop the tears now, and the words poured out—the betrayal, the failure of my marriage, the regret that gnawed at me.

“Shh,” he whispered, his hand resting on my back. “It’s going to get better.”

“No, it won’t,” I choked out. “I made a mistake.”

“Don’t say that,” he urged, his voice steady, his presence solid next to me.

“How can you say that?” I looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes. “How can you sit here and act like my marriage isn’t tearing you apart?”

Michael was quiet for a moment, his face unreadable. “I’ve learned to deal with it,” he said finally, his tone controlled, but there was a sadness beneath it. “As much as I wanted you, Morgan... I knew you could never be mine.”

“Oh, Michael.” The fresh wave of tears spilled over. He took the handkerchief from me and gently dabbed my eyes, his touch so tender it only made me cry harder.

“I know it’s painful,” he said softly. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

And so, I did. Everything. I told him about Slade, the hotel, the lies, the hurt. And then, in a moment of weakness, I admitted what I’d been too afraid to say out loud. “I still love you.”

He went completely still, his face a mask of restraint. For a moment, I thought I’d made a terrible mistake, that he didn’t feel the same. I handed him his handkerchief back, muttering an apology as I stood to leave.

“Don’t go.”

I froze, spinning around to face him. “What?”

“Don’t go,” he repeated, standing now, his voice thick with emotion. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say you still love me?”

I shook my head, stunned. “How long?”

“Years. Months. Days. Hours. Minutes. Seconds.” He stepped closer, his gaze locking with mine.

“Come back. Sit with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Then I’ll come to you.” Michael closed the gap between us, his arm slipping around my shoulders as he guided me back to the couch. I rested my head against his chest, his lips brushing my hair in a soft, almost reverent kiss.

“Michael, what do I do?” My voice trembled, the weight of my choices pressing down on me.

“It’s your decision, Morgan. I won’t make it for you, as much as I want to whisk you away.” His voice was tender but conflicted, torn between his desire and his respect for my situation.

“There’s no hope for me and Slade. It’s over.”

He sighed, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “You’ve only been married a short time. Are you sure?”

“Are you trying to talk me back into my marriage?” I asked, incredulous.

“As much as I want you to be mine,” he murmured, “I don’t want to win by default.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and another wave of tears began to fall. “That’s exactly what Slade was. He won by default because you were gone.”

Michael groaned softly, pulling me closer. “So, I had a chance?”

“I think it was always you,” I whispered.

“All this heartache,” he said, his voice tight with regret. “For nothing.”

I looked up at him, my voice barely audible. “You didn’t give me a chance, Michael. I loved you both, but... I think I loved you a little bit more.”

He closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. “And now, here we are.”

“Yes,” I said quietly. “Here we are.”

As we sat on the couch, the soft clinking of our mugs filled the silence. Erika sipped her chamomile tea, her piercing blue eyes locked on mine. The engagement party had ended hours ago, but the tension from the evening still hung heavy in the air. Lincoln was downstairs in the gym, working out, giving us space for some much-needed girl talk.

Erika tilted her head, her brow furrowing as she asked, “Where did you go with Michael earlier?”

I hesitated, swirling my tea before answering. “We talked… in one of the empty conference rooms.”

“And what did he say?” she asked, setting her mug down, clearly bracing herself.

I let out a shaky breath. “He still loves me.”

Her eyes flickered with surprise, but she didn’t speak right away. “What did you tell him?”

“Everything.” I shifted uncomfortably, the weight of the conversation pressing down on me. “He knows about Slade. About what he’s done… to me.”

Erika’s gaze sharpened, her voice low and careful. “Was he upset?”

“I think he was more upset when I told him Slade won by default,” I admitted, my voice cracking. “This whole thing is such a mess, Erika. It’s my fault. I ruined everything between the three of us.”

“You didn’t screw up Slade. He did that all by himself.” Erika’s voice turned hard, her eyes narrowing with anger. “You didn’t ask him to fuck other women, and you certainly didn’t make him act like a completely different person.”

I bit my lip, hesitating before I whispered, “We don’t know if he actually slept with anyone.”

Erika’s eyes widened in disbelief, her tone incredulous. “Are you daft? I told you what I saw!”

I raised a hand defensively. “But that doesn’t mean he slept with her…”

She slammed her mug down on the coffee table, her frustration palpable. “What the hell do you think it means?” she snapped. “He comes out of a hotel room with a much younger woman, and you think they were in there playing checkers?”

“No! I’m not saying that.” My voice wavered. “I just… I want him to tell me. I want to hear it from his mouth.”

Erika crossed her arms, leaning back with a heavy sigh. “And you believe he’s just going to confess? Just like that?”

I swallowed hard. “He’s my husband…”

Her laugh was cold, cutting through the air like a knife. “For how long, Morgan? He hasn’t even tried to ask for forgiveness. No flowers, no apology. Nothing.”

“He’s… hurt.” The words felt hollow even as I said them.

Erika shot to her feet, her voice rising. “Stop defending him! He’s been a shit husband. His position went straight to his head, and now he thinks he can do whatever the hell he wants!”

I could feel my defenses crumbling, the tears threatening to spill. “I don’t know what he was thinking,” I murmured, rubbing my temples.

“He was thinking he could get away with it,” she shot back, pacing the room. “He put a ring on your finger, and now he thinks you’ll just bend to his will. That you’ll put up with anything.”

I sighed deeply, the exhaustion of it all overwhelming me. “I just want to talk to him, Erika. I need to clear the air.”

Erika paused by the sink, gripping the edge of the counter tightly. “Do what you want,” she muttered, her back to me as she rinsed out her mug.

I sat in silence, staring into my cooling tea, wondering what the future held and whether I had the strength to face it.