Page 6 of Unleashed

“What are your plans for tonight, sweetheart?”

I sighed, rising from the couch and walking toward the hallway. “Taking a long bath, drinking a glass of wine, and going to bed early.”

“Morgan! You’re young. You should be out on a Friday night.”

“Not this Friday.” I smirked. “Maybe next.”

“I’m rolling my eyes,” she teased, making me chuckle.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, feeling lighter somehow.

“I have to check on your father. I’ll speak to you soon, love.”

“Give him my love. I love you, Mom.”

“Love you too, sweetie.”

As I hung up, a wave of melancholy hit me. I stood in the quiet apartment, staring out at the city lights, my heart heavy with worry for my parents. They deserved more than this—more than scraping by in their retirement, more than rationing medication. They’d sacrificed so much for me, and I wished I could do more.

I glanced around my modest apartment, its familiar warmth wrapping around me. It wasn’t much—just a small one-bedroom with a kitchen-living room combo, a large window seat where the afternoon sun poured in. I loved sitting there with a book, letting the light wash over me. But tonight, the thought of a warm bath and solitude was all I wanted.

I padded down the short hallway, my bare feet slapping against the light hardwood floors. My bedroom greeted me in soft shades of lavender and cream, the linen-white walls reflecting the last of the evening light. I sat on the edge of my queen-sized bed, unbuttoning my blouse, the fabric slipping off my shoulders and pooling on the floor.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, the soft lace of my nude La Perla bra hugging my skin—a small indulgence in a life that rarely left room for such luxuries. It was a reminder that, even in the midst of the chaos and disappointment, I could still hold onto something that made me feel beautiful, that made me feel like me.

I walked into the bathroom and turned on the tub, sitting on its edge while the water began to warm. As the steam rose, I tossed in a handful of vanilla bath beads, watching them dissolve, releasing their soothing fragrance into the air. My eyes drifted to the mirror again, and I found myself staring—really staring—at my reflection. My body was lean and strong, my skin flawless, and my breasts still firm. So why had it been so longsince I’d been on a date? Was Slade right? Were men really intimidated by me?

The rich, comforting scent of vanilla enveloped the small space, but even as I inhaled its calming sweetness, doubt gnawed at me. I leaned in closer, pressing my palms against the cool brown-speckled granite of the counter until I was nearly nose-to-nose with my reflection.

What was wrong with me?

The sound of the filling tub pulled me from my thoughts. I padded back to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of white Zinfandel, feeling the cool liquid coat the inside of my throat as I took a long sip. When I returned, the water had risen high enough to slip into, the warmth immediately soothing the tension in my muscles. I sighed, sinking deeper into the tub, letting the heat melt away the stress of the day.

For the first time since I’d walked into my apartment, I felt myself truly relax. The bath, the wine, the soft glow of the bathroom light—they all worked together to create a moment of calm. As I sipped my wine, I let my thoughts wander to the future. Did I really want to leave Abbott and start over somewhere else? The more I thought about it, the more I realized the answer was no.

Maybe I could tough it out, deal with Thomas Marsden’s smugness for a little while longer. Abbott was expanding, after all. And if I got passed over again the next time a supervisory role opened up? Well, that would be my sign to go. But not yet. Not now.

For now, I’d wait, bide my time, and make sure that when my moment came, I’d be ready.

My planfor the weekend had been simple: pizza, chocolate, and far too much wine, all while indulging in a marathon of crappy movies. It was spring, which meant warmer days were coming, but with the promise of sunshine came the relentless, miserable rain. And rain it did—all weekend long. By Sunday afternoon, I was stir-crazy. I needed the sun.

I lay sprawled on my bed in a pair of ratty pink flannel pajamas that couldn’t be further from my usual work attire. The fabric was soft and worn in all the right places, even if they were embarrassing to admit owning. My phone buzzed, snapping me from my mindless scroll through a newsfeed full of ads. Reluctantly, I picked it up, expecting another scam call. But the name on the screen made me smile.

"Erika, how are you?" I answered, trying to sound normal, even though I was far from it.

"Bitch, how are you? Been avoiding me?" Erika Bramwell, my best friend’s voice rang through the speaker, sharp as ever.

I laughed, rolling onto my side. "I haven’t been avoiding you. Just… busy."

"With a dick in your mouth?"

She was always crude when she wanted to be but after so many years, I was used to it.

I nearly choked on air. "Oh my god, you did not just say that!"

"You bet your sweet ass I did. So, are you?" Her tone was all challenge, and I could picture her mischievous smirk.

I snorted. "Sucking dick? No, I’m not. Can’t remember the last time I have, to be honest."

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