I know it will be a long day ahead when Micheal continues approaching us with intense curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "Will someone say something?"
"She hates me." I blurt out to him, "She keeps threatening to ruin our marriage."
Michael turns to Vanessa, anger slowly replacing the curiosity, "What's this about?"
Her eyes meet the floor, "You know how I feel about you sir."
"Is that why you went ahead to harass my wife?"
"I'm so sorry sir. It might not happen again."
Might, not will. So typical of Vanessa and her venomous strategy.
Micheal glares at her for a second, but with the intensity of it, it might as well be forever. "It better not. You can drop them on the table and excuse us."
She does as she is commanded. But she didn't forget to cast me a furious glance before storming out of the room.
Micheal slumps onto the bed immediately the door shuts behind her and sighs in frustration.
"I'm so sorry about that," I mutter, joining him on the bed.
"I should be the one apologizing."
The tone didn't match the look on his face. His frown line continues deepening.
"You don't look happy."
"Because I'm not."
He sits up and begins telling me of how his boss is harassing him to expand his cartel. This time around, I made sure that the bug is on and recorded every word that he says.
He might not have directly implied about the drug business, but at least he had proved my suspicion about having a higher boss.
We fly back to New York the next day. I feel half relaxed than I wanted to, but I'm thankful for the little peace I could get. Especially when this could be the last time we would be this happy as a couple. I make sure to savor him with enough kisses that will keep the memory of us together.
My fears spark alive when we drive into the mansion and I see some familiar faces waiting for us by their cars.
"Who are those guys?" Micheal asks his chauffeur.
"Have no idea sir."
On a closer look, Michael says, "Wait… I think I know—"
He jumps off the car and marches towards Dave.
Knowing that I have no other option left, I slowly climb down as well. My legs are shaking with each step I take.
"You here for her again?" I hear him asking Dave.
"Exactly." Dave turns to me, "Sarah, we need to talk."
"Now?"
"Tell them to excuse us or you follow me."
Micheal grabs my hand at that point, "whatever you're about to say to her, you gonna say it in front of me."
Dave gives him a dramatic look over from head to toes. I can feel Micheal's body stiffening with anger.
"Sarah, do you want me to say it in front of him?"
I turn to Micheal and one look at me, he recognizes the pleading in my eyes.
"This is the last time. Next time I see this fool here, I'll cut him into a thousand pieces and feed him to my dogs."
On hearing this, Dave closes the space between us in three furious strides.
"What did you just say? Do you know who the fuck I am?"
"And who the fuck are you?" Micheal dares him.
"The F—"
"Dave!" I scream at him.
"The fuck is wrong with this guy?"
I begin patting Micheal's tense shoulder, "He is still my husband."
"And I am your boss!" Dave screams back.
The back and forth could have continued if not for Micheal's chaffeur. He hands him over his ringing phone and Micheal goes out of earshot with it.
"What are you doing here?"
"The team summons you for a query. It's either you follow me now, or you risk tripling your jail time."
I decide to do what's best for my career. I follow him. I'll have to ransack my brain for a perfect lie later on.
The orange juice I am sipping as Chloe rattles on about the event that happened in her dance classes clings to my throat when she says the word 'choice'.
Choice. A simple word that beholds an intense meaning. Especially at that point in my life. My choice to take on an undercover job had made me complicate what I had with George. Getting married to Micheal in turn worsens it. And now? I feel like the worst version of myself after the choice I made yesterday.
It turns out that the team wants to query me for travelling to Santorini without an official permission. When I try vindicating myself by putting the whole blame on Micheal, they flip the switch by reminding me where my loyalty lies.
"Seems like George has finally made his own choice." Chloe pitches in with an evil gleam twinkling in her eyes.
My own eyes narrow in confusion, "What do you mean?"
"Natasha sent me a picture of the engagement ring he gave her."
The juice slips off my finger and lands on the terrace floor, "W-what?"
She simply shrugs instead of repeating herself.
Every one of my self consciousness flies out of me as I storm towards my car a few minutes later.
"Where are you going?" Chloe demands, falling in step behind me.
"You know damn where."
I go straight to my former apartment.
"You're so predictable." George says on swinging the door open.
"Wh-what do you me-mean? Why did yo-ou?" This time around, I didn't try to hide the anger in my voice.
He folds his arms across his chest and glares back at me. The tension thickens around us. The silence is so loudening.
"Aren't you gonna say something?"
"Say what exactly? What do you want to hear from me? That I decided to move on with my life?"
"You shouldn't have. You know very well what this case means to me!"
"I don't anymore! I don't! I can't believe you went on a vacation with another man while carrying my child!"
"I did it because I was stressed!"
George rakes his hair with both hands, clearly confused on what to believe. Or do.
I enter the bedroom later that night in clumsy steps, too exhausted to think of my next line of action.
"Answer me Sarah."
"Huh?" My head snaps up to see Micheal's eyes reddened and swollen with tears. I didn't hear him the first time.
"Tell me everything you know about the FBI."