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"Derik!" she called out, rising from her chair with sudden urgency. The mystery surrounding him could no longer be ignored.
He didn't turn back; only quickened his pace. Morgan followed, her heart pounding with every step as she tracked him down the sterile corridor. Her mind raced with possibilities, each more distressing than the last.
"Derik, wait!" she shouted as he disappeared through the door of his office. She stormed in after him, her breath catching in her throat at the sight that greeted her.
"What are you doing?" she asked, taking in the scene before her. Derik stood amidst a whirlwind of scattered paperwork and disheveled files, frantically emptying the contents of his desk into a battered cardboard box.
"Nothing," he muttered without looking up, his voice strained. "Don't worry about it."
"Like hell, I won't." Morgan crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "You're clearing your desk, Derik. That doesn't look like 'nothing' to me."
"Listen, Morgan," he said, pausing in his frenzied packing to meet her gaze. There was an unspoken plea in his eyes, a desperate vulnerability she'd never seen before. "I appreciate your concern, but this is something I have to do."
Morgan's heart clenched as the realization dawned on her. He'd resigned. She'd spent so much time wanting Derik away from her, but now that the possibility was right here, she felt herself panic. There was still so much she didn't know. There were still things she needed from him.
And in a sick, twisted way, he was still the closest thing she had to a friend.
"Explain yourself, Derik," she demanded, her tone wavering despite her best efforts to keep it steady. "Tell me why you're doing this."
Derik let out a bitter laugh, his hands still working to empty the remaining contents of his desk into a battered cardboard box. "Isn't it obvious, Morgan? I betrayed your trust. I broke my own moral code. How am I supposed to forgive myself for that?"
Morgan clenched her jaw, fighting back the tears that threatened to blur her vision. She refused to let him go without a fight. Pushing herself off the doorframe, she marched forward and began snatching items from the box, returning them to their rightful places on the desk.
"Stop it, Morgan!" Derik snapped, his frustration boiling over. But she ignored him, continuing her defiant act of resistance.
"Listen to me, Derik," she said firmly, her eyes locked onto his. "I won't let you ruin your career over this. I understand why you lied—you did it to save your son. That doesn't make what you did right, but it means something. Maybe--maybe we can work through this."
For a moment, Derik just stared at her, his eyes searching hers for any hint of insincerity or doubt. Slowly, the anger drained from his expression, replaced by a vulnerability that made Morgan's heart ache. He looked away, struggling to find the words he needed.
"Maybe you can forgive me, Morgan," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But I don't know if I can ever forgive myself."
Morgan's hands stilled on the desk, her breath catching in her throat as the weight of his words settled over her. She knew he needed time and space to come to terms with his actions and find a way to move forward. But she couldn't let him face that journey alone.
"Derik, you need my help more than ever," Morgan said, her voice soft but firm. "Your son isn't safe, and neither are you." She looked around the room, taking in the scattered files, the overturned chair, the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the floor. This scene was all too familiar to her—a life spiraling out of control, threatening to destroy everything it touched.
"Maybe I'm better off just leaving," Derik shot back, his fists clenched at his sides. The lines of tension etched into his face betrayed his internal struggle, the war raging inside him between wanting to stay and fight for redemption and wanting to give in to the darkness that threatened to consume him. "Maybe I deserve this."
Morgan studied him for a moment, her heart heavy with concern. She knew what it felt like to be lost, to believe that the only way to survive was to cut ties and walk away. But she also knew that sometimes, the hardest battles were the ones worth fighting. And she refused to let Derik lose himself without putting up a damn good fight.
"Derik, listen to me," she pleaded, stepping closer and forcing him to meet her gaze. "If you leave now, you'll drink yourself to death. You know I'm right. I need you as my partner. We can work on building our trust back up, and we can do it together."
His eyes, filled with pain and regret, met hers. For a moment, the silence between them seemed to stretch on forever, a chasm threatening to swallow them whole. But then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, she saw something shift in his expression. A flicker of hope, perhaps, or the first spark of determination.
Derik stared down at his hands, fingers trembling slightly as he considered Morgan's words. The weight of his past mistakes pressed heavily on his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He could feel the familiar urge to run, to escape from the harsh reality of his actions, but there was something in Morgan's eyes that held him steady - an unspoken plea for him to stay and face the consequences together.
"Alright," he said quietly, accepting the lifeline she offered. "I'll give it a shot."
"Good," she replied, her voice softening with relief. "We'll figure this out, Derik. Together."
Before they could say anything more, the shrill ring of Morgan's phone cut through the tense silence. She glanced at the screen, noting the caller ID before answering. Belinda--the woman from Stacy's AA meeting. Morgan's heart stalled.
"Belinda," she greeted. Morgan gripped her phone tightly, her knuckles turning white as Belinda's voice came through the line.
"Special Agent Cross, he was there again, at the AA meeting," she said, panic laced in her words. "I saw him leave with two other women from our group."
The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to flicker ominously, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Morgan's heart pounded in her chest, a sinking feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. She could almost see the man, his predatory gaze locked onto his unsuspecting prey.
"Do you know the woman?" Morgan asked.
