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The sobs came harder, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. Lincoln guided me to the bed, gently pulling me onto his lap. His hands rubbed soothing circles on my back, but the comfort only made the shame worse.
“It’s so shameful,” I whimpered, burying my face in his neck. “I’m so sorry.”
“Tell me,” he urged, his voice pleading, but gentle.
“I can’t,” I choked out, my words barely audible. “I need time.”
His heart was pounding against mine, the rhythm frantic and fearful. “Do we need to involve the police?”
“No,” I shook my head, feeling the weight of his concern. “It’s nothing like that. I’m just… I’m not ready to tell you.”
The fear of losing him gripped me as I slipped off his lap, the connection between us fraying with each step I took away from him. I grabbed my clothes from the dresser, pulling them on with trembling hands. Tears streamed down my face, unchecked, as I dressed in silence, knowing that once I told him, what we had would be shattered beyond repair.
Lincoln watched me, his eyes filled with a mix of hurt and confusion, but he didn’t stop me. He just stood there, helpless, as I prepared to leave, the unspoken words hanging between us like a heavy curtain that neither of us could lift.
I avoided Lincoln for the next few days, dodging his calls and making excuses to stay away. But the guilt gnawed at me, and with Morgan still on her honeymoon, I needed my best friend. I hesitated before dialing her number, hoping she wouldn’t tear my head off.
When she answered, her voice was sharp. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” she yelled after I told her.
“I don’t know what came over me,” I sobbed, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I shouldn’t have let Foster kiss me.”
“The minute he walked through the door, you should’ve stood your ground!” Morgan snapped. “He’s been fucking with your head for years, and now I’m getting the fallout from that mess. He doesn’t deserve you, and he never did,” she added, her voice dripping with venom. “Why the hell would you risk your relationship with Lincoln for Foster?”
“I don’t know,” I mumbled, feeling pathetic. “He was… convenient.”
“Convenient?” Morgan’s disbelief was palpable. “Why are you so afraid of committing to Lincoln? If he’s anything like Michael, he’d be perfect for you.”
Her words struck a nerve, and I lashed out, my voice sharper than intended. “Then why didn’t you marry him?”
Silence. The weight of my words hung heavy between us, and I immediately regretted it. I knew how much Morgan struggled with her feelings for both Slade and Michael, and how Michael’s sudden disappearance had left her shattered.
“Morgan?” I whispered, my voice trembling with remorse. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. Please forgive me.”
Morgan’s voice softened, tinged with the pain I’d caused. “You know how it tortured me when Michael came back,” she said quietly, the hurt still fresh.
“I know. But Foster won’t leave me alone,” I admitted, my voice cracking. I’d already told her how he’d been bombarding me with calls, flowers, and small gifts since that day. He was relentless, trying to worm his way back into my life.
Meanwhile, Lincoln had been calling too, leaving voicemails that grew more heart-wrenching with each message. He was just as miserable as I was. Telling him about my encounter with Foster would destroy him—and us. Lincoln was a proud man, and once he found out, it would be over.
Morgan’s tone turned icy. “Send him packing once and for all, Erika, or maybe… maybe you like the attention.”
“I don’t,” I protested weakly, but even I didn’t believe it.
“You need to end this,” she said firmly. “Kick Foster to the curb, confess to Lincoln, and start over.”
“I love him,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Morgan’s voice hardened. “Who? Which one do you love?”
Before I could answer, I heard Morgan pull back and say something to Slade. His voice came on the line a moment later, deep and authoritative. “Goodbye, Erika. I need time with my wife.”
I heard Morgan giggle softly in the background as Slade hung up.
“FUCK!” I screamed into the empty room, the frustration boiling over. I needed Morgan’s help, her guidance, but instead, I was left with her words echoing in my mind. Did I still love Foster? And if I did… what the hell was I going to do about it?
CHAPTER 23
Lincoln
