No sleep had been had by Michael Hudson. In any case, not well enough.
He stood by his penthouse's floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the skyline in blankness. The city was alive, but he felt empty, trapped in a cycle of uncertainty and unspoken words. Lorna had become quieter and more aloof, and he wasn't sure how to make things better. Or worse, if he should at all.
The vague, anonymous message was still blazing in his mind, piercing weeks of progress and warmth. He was more uneasy about it than he wanted to acknowledge. And he had turned away from Lorna instead. Once more.
Henry Whitlock's voice broke the stillness, "You're doing it again," and then there was the gentle thump of footsteps as he entered the penthouse without permission.
Michael didn't look back. "What are you doing?"
Henry folded his arms. pushing her out of the way. sprinting. concealing yourself behind your damned pride.
Michael's mouth tightened. "You're not understanding—"
"I know exactly what you mean, Mike. You're afraid. She isn't Heather, though. And this quiet between the two of you? Nothing will be resolved by it. It will only facilitate her departure.
At last, with darkness beneath his eyes, Michael turned to face him. "Hey Henry, she's hiding something too."
Henry's eyes narrowed. Then inquire. Avoid shutting down like you did the last time. At the very least, you stated that you were no longer that man.
With a hand running through his hair, Michael let out a breath. Henry might have been correct. Perhaps he was different now. However, the fear of being caught off guard once more gnawed at him.
Nevertheless, he couldn't deny his instinct that something wasn't right. He was rebuilding something with Lorna, and someone wanted to ruin it.
Taking his phone out, he started a new conversation with his private investigator.
Michael Hudson: Last week, I received an anonymous message that I need you to track down. I want names, but it was sent via an encrypted proxy. Find out who sent it. discreetly.
With his thumb hovering over Lorna's contact name, he hesitated. The fear of rejection clashed with the desire to connect.
Rather, he put the phone in his pocket and looked up at the skyline once more.
Answers were waiting somewhere. And he might lose the one thing he never imagined he'd find again if he didn't confront the truth, both hers and his.
Love. Love that is beautiful, fearsome, and real.