The key entered the lock with a "clink" like it always did and I pushed the door open, smiling and already rehearsing the way I'd throw my arms around him. It'd only been a week at my parents' house, but it felt longer. A week without Micheal was like standing outside in winter without a coat... and I hated the cold.
I wanted to see his face when he saw me. I wanted that warm, boyish grin he always gave me when we hadn't seen in a while. The very same one that used to make my knees weak when we were teenagers sneaking glances across the school hallway.
But when I stepped into the living room, I immediately knew something was very wrong.
My parents were there. My mother sat stiffly on the sofa with her face pale and eyes wide as saucers. My father leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes on the television screen, not even realizing I'd come home. Corinne, my sister, sat in the corner, twisting her wedding ring around and around, unable to even lift her gaze.
And Micheal...
He wasn't smiling.
He wasn't moving.
He wasn't even blinking.
He just sat there, stone still in his pressed shirt and loosened tie, his eyes super glued to the TV screen just like the rest of them.
I furrowed my brow in confusion as I turned to look.
What movie could they be watching that was so... oh, fuck.
And then I saw it.
There I was on the screen, my hair spilling over a hotel pillow. My skin bare. My mouth parted as if I had no shame. And four men surrounded me. Their hands... their mouths... their...
Fucking hell.
The world tilted on its axis.
"No…" The word came out of me but I wasn't sure who said it. I stumbled forward. "That's not... please-"
"Don't." Micheal said just one word, his eyes still strained on the TV screen.
I turned back toward him, shaking so badly I could barely keep my hands still. "Mickey, listen to me. I promise, It's not what you think."
"Camilla…" My mother said, shaking her head, lips trembling. "How could you?"
I looked my mother who had kissed my forehead every single day until I was fifteen. Who had read me bedtime stories every night till I literally had to beg her to stop. That same mother couldn't even look me in the eyes now.
"I didn't..." My voice cracked so bad I had to pause and clear my throat. "Mum, I didn't betray him. I swear to you, I didn't. It's not what it looks like."
Micheal finally looked at me now, and I wished he hadn't.
There was no rage in his eyes. No sign of tears. Just a hollow emptiness, his face was completely blank and his eyes were a void so dark I felt myself falling into it.
That was worse than screaming. Worse than if he'd put his hands around my throat and squeezed. He didn't even look like he hated me. He looked like he didn't see me at all.
"Mikey..." for some reason, my voice came out in a whisper. I wasn't even sure what I'd say even if he let me explain.
He stood up so suddenly, I thought he was going to finally say something. Maybe yell, maybe scream, maybe demand some form of an explanation. But to my surprise, he just started straightening his shirt cuffs, looking very business-like.
"Pack your things." He said finally.
I blinked. "What?"
"I'm pretty sure you heard me." He buttoned his jacket, like he was preparing for a meeting instead of ending my life. "Upstairs. Your clothes. Your…whatever you need. Pack everything up. Tonight."
"Mickey, I'm not leaving." My voice came out high and thin, like a child's. "You don't understand. If you'd just let me explain—"
"There is nothing to explain." Finally, there was a hint of anger in his voice. "I saw it. They saw it. And so did you. So don't insult me by trying to make it look like I don't know what I saw with my very own eyes."
I shook my head violently, tears stinging the back of my lids. "No, no, Mickey, I'm not leaving!" I could feel the desperation clawing at my voice but I didn't care anymore. "It's not... please, believe me, this isn't what it looks like."
Corinne whispered from the corner. "Cami..."
Ah yes! My sister would believe me. I snapped my gaze to her. "Cor, you believe me, don't you? You know how much I love Mickey. You know I wouldn't–"
She squeezed her eyes shut, twisting her ring faster, as if she could spin herself into another life.
The silence was crushing.
I reached for Micheal. "Micheal you're my husband!" I said after I figured how to speak past the giant lump in my throat. "We grew up together. You know me. You know I could never—"
He stepped back. Just one tiny step but something inside me tore open in a way I didn't think could ever be stitched again.
"Do not touch me." His voice was completely devoid of any emotion, "From this day on, you do not touch me. You don't speak to me unless necessary. And you... absolutely... do not look at me like I'm still yours."
"Mikey please..."
"Don't." His voice broke for the first time, but not with anger this time, although at that point I wished it was.
I collapsed to my knees. "Please. Please don't do this to me. Don't throw us away. Don't throw me away. If you'd just let me—"
"Enough!" My father's roar cut through the room. He stood, his hand trembling in anger as he pointed at me. "You've brought shame on all of us! Do you even know what they're saying on the headlines, Camilla? What they're saying about this family?!"
"I don't give two shits what they're saying." My voice rose, laced with anger as if I even had any right to be angry. "What I care about is what you're saying. I need you to believe me, Dad. This is not what it looks like."
I looked at him, numb. My father, who once held my bike steady while I learned to pedal, couldn't even stand to look me in the eyes.
"I didn't—" That damn lump in my throat again. I swallowed hard. "I didn't betray him."
"Then what is that?" My mother gestured to the screen which was still on. My face... my body... those strangers' hands on me. "What is that if not betrayal, Cam? Huh?"
She walked to the screen and pointed at the headlines just below the video. SCANDAL AS CROWN FASHION CEO CAUGHT IN A SEX TAPE was written boldly on the screen for all the world to see. And just above it, the tape continued to play.
I had no words. None I was allowed to say, anyway.
The contract. The deal. The night I gave everything away to save Micheal. The same man that now couldn't even stand the sight of me.
He's never going to forgive me. I thought as I bit down on the sob clawing its way up my throat.
Like clockwork, Micheal cleared his throat, adjusted his tie, smoothed his jacket, and walked toward the door. He stopped just before he opened it, his hand resting on the knob.
He didn't bother to turn when he spoke. "I won't divorce you. Not yet. My brand doesn't take scandals." A pause. Then he continued, "But do not mistake that for mercy."
I lifted my face, confusion slicing through the pain.
"You'll stay, Milla. You'll smile when the cameras flash. You'll wear my ring. You'll play the perfect doting wife. And when we're alone, you'll remember exactly what you are."
He opened the door then paused. His voice, when it came again, was so soft I almost thought I imagined it.
"Nothing but a cheating whore."
Then he was gone.
The silence left behind was even worse than the tape.
My knees finally gave way and I sank to the floor, shaking so violently I thought my bones might snap.
No one moved to help me. Not my parents. Not my sister. Not the man who once promised me forever.
Alone.
Utterly alone.
But the sad part was, deep inside I knew.
I'd do it all again for you.