Page 129 of Unleashed

“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 spentthe 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.

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