Page 131 of Unleashed

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 reachedinside 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’tfeel 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.

---