And Anthony stood there, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. My heart sank as I quickly ended the decision, shoving my cell phone in the back of me.
"Who was that?" He asked, his voice dangerously calm.
"Just a friend," I stammered, wiping my tears fast. "They called to check on me."
"Is that why you're crying?" He sneered, stepping closer. "You think you could just run off and cry to someone else about our private issues?"
I stated nothing; my eyes locked on the floor. His presence stuffed the small bathroom, suffocating me with his anger.
"Get up," he ordered coldly. "We're leaving."
We drove home in silence. My mind raced, wondering if Andy might do something reckless. When we pulled up to the residence, I noticed someone standing by the gate. My heart leaped into my throat.
"Andy?" I whispered, my eyes widening in wonder and fear.
"What the hell is he doing here?" Anthony muttered, his jaw clenching. He shot me a look. "Did you tell him to come here?"
"No, I swear," I said fast. "I didn't—"
Before I could finish, Anthony got out of the car and commenced closer to Andy, his expression darkening with each step. I scrambled out, calling out to Andy as I ran to trap up.
"Andy!" I cried, hoping to defuse the state of affairs. "Please, just go."
Andy looked at me, his eyes constant on Anthony. "I came here to make sure you're okay, Mia," he stated, his voice constant but nerve-racking.
"She's fine," Anthony snapped, preventing a few feet from him. "And you don't have any business being here. I don't even need to peer you close to my residence once more."
Andy's eyes flickered to me, subject etched throughout his face. "Mia, are you okay?" he asked, his voice softening. "You don't need to stay here if you don't want to."
"Enough," Anthony growled, stepping between us. "Whatever relationship you two had is over. Now get the hell off my house."
I noticed the anger flare in Andy's eyes; however, he held his ground. "Mya isn't your pet, Anthony," he said flippantly. "She has every right to—"
"Don't you dare speak to me about rights," Anthony cut in, his voice a risky low. He turned to me, his eyes flashing with fury. "And you," he hissed, "you think you could defy me like this? In front of him?"
"Anthony, please," I begged, seeking to hold my voice calm. "Let's just go inside and talk."
He looked at me, his hand placing out before I even noticed it coming. The slap echoed inside the air, and I stumbled back, the sting of it spreading across my cheek.
"Mia!" Andy shouted, beginning ahead, but Anthony raised a hand, his expression wild.
"Touch me, and I'll have you arrested," Anthony threatened. "Do you want to make things worse for her?"
Andy stopped, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His eyes burned with rage, but he didn't move. "This isn't over," he said, his voice shaking. "I won't watch you do that to her."
Anthony smirked, wrapping his arm around my shoulders in a possessive grip. "Oh, it's over," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "Now, go away before I do something worse than this."
"Andy, please," I whispered, my voice cracking. "Just go. I'll be fine."
His eyes met mine, packed with pain and helplessness. "Mia…"
"Go," I mouthed, tears threatening to spill over again.
He hesitated for a moment longer, then turned and walked away, his shoulders aggravating with barely contained anger. I watched him go, feeling part of me smash as he disappeared around the nook.
Anthony let out a derisive chuckle. "Pathetic," he muttered, steering me towards the residence. "Now, you see what happens when you disobey me."
I felt numb, too exhausted to respond. I allow him to lead me inside, my mind reeling from what had just taken place.
_______________
The months dragged on in a fog of fear and anxiety. I had grown quieter and more withdrawn; however, I clung to one small glimmer of desire: my music career. I threw myself into it, channeling every little bit of my pain and frustration into the lyrics and melodies. It has come to be the most effective factor that kept me going—the best piece of myself I had left.
Despite everything, Anthony insisted on retaining the facade of a truly high-quality marriage. He used my budding career to enhance his picture, installing area interviews and appearances where we had to play the happy couple. Today became one of those days—a TV interview that I had been dreading for weeks.
The interviewer leaned in advance, smiling warmly. "So, Mia, you and Anthony have grown to be quite the strong couple in the track organization. How do you stabilize your marriage with the wishes of your careers?"
My throat tightened, and I sensed my hands beginning to shake. I knew what I desired to say. I preferred to scream the fact, to tell everyone what type of man Anthony sincerely has become. But the terms stuck in my throat. The room started to shut in—the cameras, the intense lighting fixtures, all blurring properly into a single, oppressive mass.
Anthony glanced at me; his smile strained, however, but captivating. I may additionally need to experience the silent warning in his gaze. He knew what I was thinking, and he had become bold enough to say it.
"Uh…" I stammered, my thoughts racing. "Well… um…"
I appeared out into the goal marketplace, attempting to find a pleasant face, a sign that someone could help me if I spoke out. But all I noticed had been strangers, eyes big with expectation, searching beforehand for my answer. I felt trapped, like a rabbit in a snare.
"She's been under numerous stresss presently," Anthony interjected without trouble, placing a hand on my knee in a gesture that became intended to appear comforting but felt like a vice. "The music industry may be pretty annoying, and Mia's been jogging very difficult on her new album. We're virtually trying to take matters in the destiny at a time, ?"
The interviewer nodded sympathetically. "Of course, that makes me enjoy. It may be loads to cope with. But it's good to see that you are helping every person through it."
Anthony beamed, squeezing my knee nicely—a chunk too difficult. "Absolutely. We're each other's largest fans."
I forced a smile, the expression feeling distant places on my face. I wanted to scream to inform them; it's all a lie, but the phrases wouldn't come. I was trapped in this nightmare, and each day, the partitions started to close a touch greater.
The journey back home was silent. Anthony's knuckles had been white on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched in a way that made my belly twist with worry. When we arrived, I saw Evelyn's car wasn't there. A sinking feeling washed over me. I am alone in this.
We walked into the house, and as soon as the door closed, Anthony came on me, his eyes blazing with fury. "What the hell was that back there?" he snapped, his voice low and perilous.