of love and loyalty

Chapter Five : of love and loyalty

Eric and Lincoln might soon go their separate ways—over Whitney. Lincoln's relationship with her had become a source of growing tension. Eric knew things—details he hadn't shared with the two lovebirds. Deep down, he believed their ship was sailing straight toward a storm, and the wreck seemed inevitable.

The last time the two friends met, it was at John Sawyer Garden and Park, a moderately luxurious and serene location, perfect for intimate conversations. That day, their heart-to-heart drifted toward Whitney.

"My fear," Eric began, his voice steady but serious, "is that you might not really be capable of handling Whitney the way she deserves. At the end of the day, I fear she'll be wasted—like time poorly managed."

"Is that really your fear?" Lincoln was visibly unsettled. "Why is it so hard for you to believe I can handle her? Haven't I done well so far? I treat her right—better than most men would!"

"Nay! Nay!" Eric said, shaking his head.

"What do you mean?" Lincoln looked both baffled and defensive. "What else do you think I should be doing? Whitney is clearly happy with me."

"Do you know how many guys are also after Whitney? They're watching, waiting—ready to do anything to win her heart. Just one moment of carelessness from you..."

"Nay! Say their names!" Lincoln's expression hardened. "I already suspect that sneaky rat."

"Who? Who do you suspect?" Eric asked.

"Alex, of course," Lincoln said, frowning.

"Wrong. Walter," Eric revealed.

"Walter?" Lincoln's face twisted in disbelief. "I don't buy that. Walter is irresponsible. Whitney could never go for someone like him. Ask Susan—his ex. She'll tell you he's a lightweight in this game."

Eric leaned closer. "Oh, sorry Lincoln. He's not a mouse—he's a cheetah. The fastest one in this kind of game. He cheats boys like you in seconds."

"Walter?" Lincoln repeated, still unsure.

"Here's the secret," Eric said. "Walter once whispered to George how much he loves Whitney. He even showed him two messages he sent to her."

"Wait—love messages?" Lincoln nearly shouted. "To my Whitney? And she didn't tell me anything?"

"Why would she?" Eric said, shrugging.

"Love messages," Lincoln repeated, his eyes wide.

"Hold on," Eric interrupted. "I never said love messages—I said messages. That's all. Clear enough?"

"I'll confront him. He has no right," Lincoln growled. "Do you know which George I'm talking about?"

"Not sure," Eric said. "George Hills?"

"George Hills?" Eric frowned. "No, I don't know anyone with that name. And besides, if you're going to attack someone, go after Walter. George only saw the messages—he didn't send them."

"Oh, yeah, that's true," Lincoln nodded. "But still... a friend of a thief is a thief. Birds of a feather. George is guilty by association."

"So what now?" Eric chuckled. "You'll poison both of them?"

"I just might," Lincoln snapped.

"Easy," Eric said. "Let go of Walter and George. Just don't waste Whitney. Okay?"

Those last words hit Lincoln hard. A sudden fever of anxiety washed over him. Eric's revelation had shaken him. But despite the storm in his heart, Lincoln still clung to a sliver of doubt. Could Whitney truly be disloyal? He wouldn't act until he saw her. Until he had proof.

Lincoln had been trying to manage his emotions maturely when he finally met Whitney. He could have shouted at her or wrongly accused her without verifying all that Eric had told him.

Whitney, on the other hand, felt embarrassed by the allegation that she was involved with someone named George. Naturally, the accusation caused a fracas between them. She believed Lincoln should have known better—that it was practically impossible for her to date two men at the same time.

"How on earth could I be dating you and, at the same time, dating George?" she retorted.

She confessed that she had indeed received a message from George, but insisted it wasn't a love message. He had merely asked to see her—nothing more. To prove her innocence, she immediately brought out her phone to show the message to anyone who cared to see it.

Unfortunately, Lincoln became even more displeased upon hearing that George wanted to see her.

"For what? Did they have anything in common before?" he muttered to himself.

These were valid questions that demanded answers. Fortunately, Whitney was ready to provide them.

One evening, George drove into the car park near his office building. At the same time, Whitney—whom he had never met before—had just alighted from a car at the same parking lot.

They walked in opposite directions and were about to pass each other when George accidentally hit his left foot against a small stone and nearly fell. Out of sympathy, Whitney turned back to help him. A few of the items he was carrying had fallen, and she picked them up one by one.

That single act of kindness sparked something in George. He was grateful and thanked her sincerely. Right there and then, they exchanged phone contacts. That was the beginning of their brief acquaintance.

"I haven't had the opportunity to see him again since that day," Whitney explained.

"Yes, I feel better now," Lincoln admitted.

"You feel better now? What does that even mean?" she asked, puzzled.

"It means I'm relieved—that you're still mine and you haven't gone to see him," he said with a chuckle.

"Now I know what kind of hell you've been imagining," she replied with a playful grin.