Unspoken Promises (The Unspoken Love Series Book 2)

by H. P. Davenport

  “I was buried balls deep in you not even eight hours ago, and now you’re telling me not to touch you.” A sudden thin chill hangs on the edge of his words.

  His words arouse and infuriate me. Dueling voices whisper in my head.

  You want more from him.

  You want a lifetime with him.

  You love him.

  Let him go.

  He’ll change his mind now that you’ve given him the reality of what will happen.

  He doesn’t want the same as you.

  I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the voices in my head.

  I can’t force him to marry me. He’ll resent me for it.

  “Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” I beg.

  I feel suddenly weak and vulnerable in the face of his anger. I flatten my palms against his chest, pushing him away. I need distance between us. I laugh inwardly at myself. Distance, that’s all that’s been there with us, yet I feel I need a canyon to give me the space I need.

  “Why are you doing this? We can fix this, Morgan. Don’t walk away from us.” He pushes his hands through his golden blond hair letting out a sigh.

  I shake my head, tears still tremble on my eyelids.

  I see the hurt in his eyes. I see that I am ruining him. Ruining what we have. I knew this was going to be hard, but I wasn’t prepared for how hollow I would feel in this moment.

  In a defensive gesture, I cross my arms across my chest.

  I gulp hard, hot tears trickle down my face. “There’s nothing left to fix. Empty promises are worse than lies.”

  I see instantly that my words cut him deep. My words hit him hard.

  His voice hardens ruthlessly. “You want promises. Here’s one for you.”

  His fierce blue eyes darken dangerously. “I promise you this. No matter who enters your life, I will love you more than any of them.”

  He turns and punches the wall, leaving a huge gaping hole in it. A picture falls and hits the floor as the glass shatters. Lincoln shakes his right hand, and flexes his fingers. His knuckles are covered in blood.

  Jauntily he cocks his blond head to one side. “Be gone before I get back. I can’t be around you a minute longer.”

  Lincoln walks out of the room, slamming the bedroom door behind him causing a few more pictures to fall from the wall. I walk and gather the pictures from the floor. The glass is shattered, just like my heart.

  It’s a picture of us the night I graduated from Rutgers. Lincoln was behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me tightly against his chest. He whispered how sexy I looked in my cap and gown and he couldn’t wait to get me home to see what I was wearing under it. He nipped my ear, making me laugh and leaned down planting a kiss on my cheek at the moment my dad snapped the picture.

  My smile matched his liveliness. This picture told a story. A story of two people in love. I never wanted him to let go. I could be in his arms forever. It’s where I felt safe, where I felt comfort.

  Throwing the picture aside, my legs give out from under me and I fall to the floor. Sobs escape me and my body shakes. I weep aloud, rocking back and forth. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. I knew I needed to do this, and now I’m left here to deal with the fallout of destroying eight years of our lives and our love for one another.

  My heart hurts from what I just did and I begin to laugh.

  My heart.

  Who am I kidding?

  Lincoln just walked out the door with my heart.

  The future I pictured slowly fades away. How did my life unravel in front of me? When the tears of pain and heartache pour down my face, I realize my hopes and dreams are far from me.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been on the floor crying. From the way the sun is shining into the bedroom, it appears to be mid-afternoon. Lincoln hasn’t come back. This is what I wanted, wasn’t it? I push myself up from the floor and walk over to the night stand. I have text messages from Lindsey and my friend, Karsen from last night asking why I bailed out early. I shoot a quick text to Karsen.

  Me: Are you busy today?

  Karsen: No, I’m off today. Whatz up?

  Me: I need some help at Lincoln’s apartment. Can you help?

  Karsen: Sure, is everything okay?

  Me: I’ll fill you in when you get here. Just come as soon as you can.

  Karsen: I’m showered already. I’ll catch a cab. Be there in twenty.

  Me: Thanks.

  There’s a knock at the door. When I open it, Karsen stands before me with two iced caramel macchiatos from Starbucks. “I figured by the sound of your text, I needed reinforcements. What’s going on?” she asks, her voice laced with concern.

  I wave my hand gesturing for her to come in. “Long story short. I broke up with Lincoln and I need you to help me pack up my things as quickly as possible. I want to be gone before he gets back.”

  Karsen stops abruptly, and turns to face me. I reach out and take one of the iced drinks from her. “You did what? You can’t just drop a bomb on me like that and not expect a thousand questions.”

  I take a deep breath. “We can talk later. Right now we need to get my shit together. I want to be gone before he gets back.” I turn and walk into the bedroom. Karsen follows me without speaking a word.

  I point to the floor. “Be careful, there’s glass.”

  “What happened in here?” she asks when she sees all the picture frames on the floor.

  “They fell off the wall when Lincoln punched the wall, or when he slammed the door on his way out.”

  “Morgan, what happened?”

  I walk in the closet in search of luggage. I find one on the shelf, but I can’t reach it. “Can you reach this for me?” I ask.

  Karsen grabs the luggage and we begin to gather my clothes. Most of mine are hanging in the closet, the remaining are in the dresser.

  “Do me a favor, finish packing my clothes. There are a few things in the nightstand that you can grab, I’m going to grab my toiletries in the bathroom.”

  After about an hour, Karsen and I have everything that I can think of. If I forget anything, I’ll ask Camryn or one of the guys to get it from Lincoln. After today’s turn of events, I doubt he will want to see me for quite a while.

  I knew leaving him would be difficult, but I wanted this to be amicable. Seeing how things were between us, I never imagined it would have escalated the way it did. We have the same friends, we will see each other all the time. I run his club for God’s sake. When I stop and really think about this, I don’t see how this will work. Mixing business with pleasure was never an issue because we were together. But now, everything is different. I can only pray that we can still work together, or I’ll have to find another job.

  Karsen walks out of the apartment, wheeling my suitcase behind her.

  With my hand on the doorknob, I turn to take one last look at the apartment. So many memories have been made here. The sound of the door shutting echoes in the quiet hallway and Lincoln’s voice echoes in my head. “I promise you this. No matter who enters your life, I will love you more than any of them.”

  I clench my jaw shut to kill the sob in my throat. I swallow hard and fight back more tears that I refuse to let fall.

  LINCOLN

  “Just because I let you go, it doesn’t mean that I wanted to.”

  – Unknown

  What the fuck is that noise? Is it the after-effects of the alcohol in my head, or is someone here? “In the End” by Linkin Park blares throughout the apartment. The room is dark and I think someone is banging against my door. They are thumping with such force that I hear it above the music. I reach for the table and grab my glass of Captain and Coke and knock the rest back.

  “Be gone before I get back. I can’t be around you a minute longer.”

  I keep hearing those words on repeat in my head. I can’t believe I said that to Morgan. No matter how angry I was, I should have never spoken to her that way. Maybe if I drink enough, I’ll forget I said it.


  I ignore what I think is knocking and nod my head to the music. This entire situation is unreal. We wasted it all away. We both kept everything inside and what we had is now a memory. What mattered the most to us, we let slip through our fingertips.

  It doesn’t matter how much we loved each other, it wasn’t enough. Do I fight for her? Should I have just proposed to her? Should I have given her what she wanted? Who knows? I was hell bent on doing it my way. I wasn’t going to have her force my hand on proposing. Now look at us. There isn’t even an us anymore. Proposing was one thing I had complete control over. I wasn’t going to allow her to dictate if or when I was going to do it. I don’t want to be married, my fucked-up childhood ensured that marriage wasn’t in the cards for me and she’s known that all along. Why do women always think they can change men? Why?

  I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I laugh at myself as the lyrics of this song play out in my head and I recognize that the words are so fitting. The past week I have secluded myself in my now-empty-of-all-things-Morgan apartment. I called one of my bartenders and asked him to run the place for me. I needed time to get my shit together. Get my head back in the game.

  I put my trust in her. I gave her everything, and in the end, what did I get? A fucking broken heart.

  Light fills the apartment. How the hell did that happen? I didn’t turn a lamp on. The apartment is suddenly quiet. The music is gone. And now that I think about it, the thumping sound that overpowered the music has also stopped.

  “What the hell happened in here? This place is a wreck.” I hear someone ask.

  Wreck, that’s funny. The place looks exactly how I feel.

  “Lincoln, get up, dude. You need to take a shower.”

  “I’m fine. Get out.” I slur. Reaching for my glass, I feel someone snatch it out of my hands.

  “We’re not leaving. You need to get up. You’ve been cooped up in this apartment for a week.” I hear someone say. I haven’t opened my eyes yet to see who’s here, but I recognize the voices. Great, Christian and Jamie are here. My week just keeps getting better and better.

  “You look like shit,” Christian grumbles.

  Christian grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet. I feel his arm wrap around my waist.

  “Not to mention, you smell like shit. You need to take a shower, dude.”

  “If you came here to break my balls, you know where the door is. I was fine by myself,” I reply.

  “Yeah, you look fine and you smell even worse,” Christian replies sarcastically. “Jamie, help me get him to the shower.”

  I can’t feel my feet. It’s like I’m floating through air. Flying like Casper the Friendly Ghost. I hear water running, but I don’t know how that happened since I didn’t turn it on.

  “What the hell,” I yell when I’m thrown in the shower under the streaming water. I try to get out, but I feel hands push me back under the spray.

  “Go put a pot of coffee on, while I finish up in here with this asshole,” Christian says.

  “No problem, I’ll take coffee duty over scrubbing his naked ass any day,” Jamie replies.

  “Who you calling an asshole? I was here minding my own business before you two fuckwads came barging in.”

  “Shut up and take your clothes off.”

  When I don’t comply to Christian’s demands, I feel my shirt being pulled over my head.

  “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Take your pants off and get washed. I’m not leaving the bathroom until you’re showered. I’m really not in the mood to scrub your balls and ass crack. You get what I’m saying.” Christian commented as if the answer was obvious.

  I strip out of my soaked pants and toss them to the back of the shower. I stay in until the water runs ice cold. I continue to stand under the streaming water until I get my bearings. I reach to shut the water off, and a towel is thrust at me through the curtain.

  “You’re still out there?” I ask.

  “I told you I wasn’t going anywhere. I couldn’t risk you falling and cracking your head on the tub. I stayed for safety measures,” Christian says.

  “Thanks, man. Do me a favor, go grab me a pair of shorts while I dry off.”

  “Are you okay if I leave you?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. I’ll sit on the toilet and dry off.”

  Christian tosses clothes at me. When I emerge from the bathroom, my bedroom is a mess. The pictures that fell from the wall the other day, still lay on the floor. Glass from the frames lay on the carpet. Drawers that once held Morgan’s clothes are still open.

  “What the hell happened in here? Morgan told Camryn you guys got into a fight.” I look up and see Jamie standing in the doorway with a cup of coffee in hand.

  “Don’t say her name. I don’t want to hear her name.”

  “Sorry,” he says apologetically.

  “Here, drink this. I’ll go grab the trash can and the vacuum. We need to clean this place up.”

  “Wake up, sleeping beauty. Your maids are finished and would like to be paid.”

  I open my eyes and the two of them are standing above me, both with smiles plastered on their faces. I think they are enjoying this a little too much.

  “Paid. Yeah, okay, the two of you drink for free at my bar and my club. Do you need to be reminded of that?”

  Christian bats my feet to the side so he can sit on the couch. “You feel any better after your nap?”

  “How long was I out of it?” I ask.

  “You’ve been MIA for a week. From the looks of this place, you’ve been out of it for that long, too, dude. This isn’t you,” Jamie says.

  “I get that you’re going through a tough time, but you never gravitated toward a bottle when times were rough. You need to find a different way to cope.”

  “Don’t Dr. Phil me, Christian. Please, not you.” My brows pull together in an angry frown.

  “I’m not lecturing you, I’m reminding you who you are. You’ve been lost the past few days. I don’t want to see it become a habit,” Christian says.

  “I get it. She broke your heart. You didn’t see it coming, hell, none of us saw it coming. Give her time. Maybe that’s all she needs.” Christian continues to try to be the voice of reason.

  “Time,” I laugh.

  “We’ve been together since we were sixteen. That makes it what, eight years? I think she’s had nothing but time on her hands. She did this to us. I begged her not to leave. And you know what?” I stand to my feet and begin to pace the floor.

  “She walked out that fucking door. I’m done. If she wants to fix things, then it’s all on her. She knows where I am.”

  I point to the floor. “I’m here… where she belongs. I’ll be at my bar, that I run. Not to mention, she runs my club. This is going to be great.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. Tension builds in my temple.

  “Maybe you should stay clear of Redemption for a little bit until the smoke clears between the two of you. Give the two of you some space,” Jamie interjects.

  “Space. Are you shitting me? It’s my club. If she wants nothing to do with me, then I suggest she find a new place of employment,” I bark out.

  “Dude, don’t you think that’s a little harsh. Don’t do anything that you’ll regret. If you force her out of Redemption and the two of you manage to work things out, where will that leave Morgan?” Christian gave me a brutal and unfriendly stare.

  I plop back on the couch, kicking my feet up on the table. “I haven’t thought that far ahead. It’s just easier to tell her I don’t want her managing Redemption than force myself to see her on a regular basis. I don’t think I can handle seeing her right now.”

  “Look, I don’t want any of us in the middle of this, I mean it. But if you want me to check on Redemption to make sure things are running smoothly, sort of be the go-between for you and Morgan, I will. Just until the two of you figure this shit out,” Christian offers.

  I nod. “I appreciate that. I really do.” We bump fists.


  After agreeing not to drown my sorrow in a bottle of Captain, the guys head home. I slump down on the couch taking in the appearance of my empty apartment. This room mimics my feelings, my empty heart. Fuck, I miss her with this gut-wrenching pain. I even miss our arguments.

  I’m dead inside… and she doesn’t even know it. When she left me, she took my heart and soul with her, clutched in her hand.

  I take a long look in the mirror, this is what death looks like. I look like shit.

  It’s been three weeks since Morgan walked out of my apartment. It’s been three weeks since she walked out of my life. Three weeks since I’ve spoken to her. Three weeks of hell.

  Every time I close my eyes at night, she’s all I see. I’m not sure if they are dreams because each morning I wake up to an empty bed and I realize that this nightmare is real. This nightmare is my new normal. Do I call her and beg her to come back? Do I give her the space everyone keeps telling me she needs? Maybe we need this time apart to find ourselves again, since somewhere along the way we lost us. We were each other’s home. We were each other’s forever.

  When the door to Redemption opens, the loud thumping bass of the music reverberates through my entire body. The club is dark and the strobe lights are going along with the beat of the music, highlighting the people dancing. I pause at the door, noticing that it is already a packed house.

  I ease my way inside, not wanting to draw attention to my entrance. I don’t want any of the security guys to see me. I’m here for one thing and one thing only. To check in with Morgan and make sure things are running smoothly. The two of us haven’t spoken since she moved out. Christian has been playing the middle man, but it isn’t fair to put him in this predicament long-term. So here I am. Scanning the club for the one woman who makes my heart race, my heart beat. The one woman who can take my breath away in an instant. The one my heart yearns for.

  The sound of “Judas” by Lady Gaga fills the room. My eyes scan the club. When I spot her, my stomach sinks. My heart breaks just a little bit more than it did the morning she told me, “There’s nothing left to fix. Empty promises are worse than lies.”