Page 142 of Unleashed

He groaned, his voice hoarse as he spilled into the condom, his body shaking above me. "Christ," he panted, lowering himself onto me, his lips trailing soft, reverent kisses along my neck. "That... that was everything."

I threaded my fingers through his damp hair, stroking his back, my touch gentle as I traced the lines of his muscles. For a moment, I let myself feel the comfort of him, of us, but I knew this couldn’t last. "I promise... I’ll have a decision when I get back," I whispered, my voice trembling.

Michael pulled back slightly, just enough to look into my eyes. "I know this isn’t the right time to say it, but I’ll be devastated if it isn’t me."

"Don’t make me cry," I whispered, blinking back the tears threatening to spill.

"It’s the truth." His fingers brushed my cheek, tender but insistent. "I can’t stay here if I can’t have you, Morgan. I can’t be in the same city, watching you with someone else."

"Thank you for putting that weight on me," I muttered, the words sharp even as I tried to keep my voice steady.

He eased off of me, slipping out with a soft groan, and for a second, I thought he’d pull away completely. But instead, he settled beside me, propping his head up with one hand, his other lazily tracing circles around my nipple. The intimacy felt both tender and suffocating.

"I don’t want to pressure you," he said softly, his gaze heavy with meaning. "But that’s how I feel."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, shifting away from him. I couldn’t stay wrapped in this warmth any longer—it would make leaving unbearable. "I need to go if I’m going to leave tomorrow," I said, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed.

"Are you sure?" His voice was soft, tinged with a sadness I didn’t want to face.

"Yes," I murmured, standing to gather my clothes. I didn’t dare look at him, knowing the sight of his face would break me. I could already feel his gaze following my every move, making the air feel thick with unspoken words.

Michael slid out of bed, his body a graceful shadow in the dim light. He came up behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist, his fading erection pressing gently against me as he placed a lingering kiss on my shoulder. "I’ll miss you," he whispered, his lips brushing my skin.

I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth of his embrace, but I couldn’t let it linger. He released me, disappearing into the bathroom to discard the condom. When he returned, I was nearly dressed, my heart heavy as I glanced at him, leaning against the doorframe like a marble statue, watching me with a mix of longing and resignation.

"I have to go," I said, my voice thick.

"One last kiss," he murmured, stepping toward me, his hand cupping my cheek.

I didn’t resist as he pressed his lips to mine, soft and slow, as if trying to etch the memory of this moment into my skin. When he pulled away, he gently smoothed my tousled hair. "Don’t stay away too long. I’ll be waiting for you."

"I know," I whispered, my heart aching. "I’ll talk to you soon."

Without another word, I turned and left the room. His final "I love you" echoed after me, but I didn’t look back. I grabbed mypurse and coat from the counter, pulling the door shut behind me as if sealing off everything we’d shared.

In the elevator, I finally allowed myself to breathe, shrugging into my coat as the weight of Michael’s words settled over me like a heavy cloak. He didn’t follow me, and for that, I was grateful. I couldn’t handle any more of his pleading, not when my heart was already torn in two.

CHAPTER 30

Ibegan my hike up the Appalachian Trail just as I had a year and a half before, starting at Bear Mountain. The crisp air bit my cheeks, and I adjusted the heavy pack strapped over my red down coat, feeling the familiar weight settle across my shoulders. My jeans and hiking boots were sturdy enough, but the patches of snow that dotted the trail reminded me this would be no easy trek. I trudged forward, my breath visible in the chilly air as I pushed through the first day.

About halfway in, the weather turned. A sudden squall of flurries blew in, swirling around me with icy gusts that cut through my layers. It didn’t last long—maybe fifteen minutes—but it hit in bursts, each flurry more relentless than the last, as if nature itself was testing my resolve.

My fingers felt like blocks of ice despite my gloves, and my legs ached with each step. I had been slacking on my exercise, too consumed by the chaos in my life to keep up with training. Now, my lack of endurance was catching up to me. Every muscle screamed for relief, but I refused to stop until I’d covered enough ground for the day.

By the time I found a decent spot to set up camp, exhaustion weighed me down. The cold crept in as the sun dipped lower,and I hastily unpacked, eager to settle in. Dinner was a simple MRE of beef stew, but after hours of hiking in the cold, it tasted like a feast. The warmth of each bite spread through me, temporarily chasing away the chill.

Once I crawled into my sleeping bag—good to twenty below, even though it wasn’t nearly that cold yet—I felt the exhaustion sink deep into my bones. The weight of the day, of the trail, and of everything I had left behind clung to me, but sleep pulled me under before I had the chance to think too hard about it all. The steady sound of the wind outside my tent became a lullaby, and I drifted off almost instantly.

When I woke justbefore dawn, I shivered as I pushed the sleeping bag open, the cold air biting at my skin. My entire body protested with stiffness and soreness, and a flood of doubts washed over me. Could I really stay out here for two weeks? The quiet wilderness offered no comfort this morning—just a brutal reminder of how physically unprepared I was. I lay there for a while, staring up at the faint light creeping through the tent fabric, trying to muster the will to move.

After convincing myself to get going, I reflected on yesterday's hike. Seven hours of solitude had left me plenty of time to think, but instead of clarity, I was caught between two men, two impossible choices.

Slade, my husband, was a complicated mess. There was a time he was everything I wanted—a man full of promise. But now? His infidelity, the lies that came after... his denial about the young woman leaving the hotel with him didn’t sit right. His story didn’t add up.

Then there was Michael. Passionate, devoted, romantic—he loved me as fiercely as he promised. But his intensity came with unpredictability. Michael Elliott could be charming one minute and distant the next, his moods swinging wildly like the weather I found myself hiking through. Could I live with that? Both men had their faults, and I wasn’t any closer to a decision.

Sighing, I unzipped the tent and stepped into the frosty morning air, setting up my small stove to heat water for breakfast. The chill seeped through my gloves as I prepared an MRE of scrambled eggs and cheese. I only managed to eat half before the taste turned sour in my mouth. The cold made even the simplest tasks miserable—washing my face, brushing my teeth—everything was a reminder of how much I longed for warmth, for comfort. A hot shower sounded like heaven. But I pushed on, packing up my tent, sleeping bag, and stove for the day ahead.

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