Foul Play 🩷

Two

September 2019

Millicent flitted around her room nervously, inspecting her skinny jeans and blue blouse. Earlier that morning, Henry Cavill had asked her out to a pub, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. He was the first person, let alone a guy, who had shown her any attention since the term started. With his attractive appearance, from the mess of brown curls on his head to his captivating blue eyes, he had a way of making most girls in school weak in the knees with his cocky grin and charming chin dimple. And yet, he seemed genuinely interested in her, the strange American girl.

Slipping on a pair of comfortable flats and grabbing a sweater and her trusty cross-body purse, Millicent made her way down the stairs, only to pause when she heard her father's voice coming from the office.

"Milly? Where are you going?" her father called out.

She stopped in the foyer, letting out a sigh before turning to face him and approaching the doorway. "I'm going to a pub with some new friends."

Her father sighed, a mix of conflicting feelings evident on his face. While she was technically an adult, they were still in the process of establishing their father-daughter relationship. "Okay. Just make sure you have your phone and call me if you need me for any reason..."

Millicent nodded, a grateful smile on her face as her phone dinged, indicating the arrival of her car. "Thanks, uh... Darren."

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Have fun," he said, his own smile forming as he took in her happy demeanor, perhaps for the first time since she had arrived.

She turned on her heels, walked towards the waiting car and slid into the backseat as the driver pulled out of the large driveway and onto the road.

***

Millicent entered the crowded pub, spotting Henry sitting alone in a corner booth. A nervous smile played on her lips as she approached, sliding into the booth beside him. "Hi," she greeted, her voice tinged with nervousness. Henry pushed a cold pint of beer towards her.

"Got you a cold pint... that's how you Americans drink them, right?" he asked, his own smile matching hers.

She nodded, offering a small shrug. "So I've heard. I've never had a beer before, though." Millicent took a hesitant sip, her face contorting into a grimace at the bitter taste of the golden liquid.

Henry chuckled, finding her sweet innocence endearing. He watched her place the beer down, considering whether he should get her something else. "I'll get you something different if you'd like."

She shook her head, determined to embrace the experience fully. Millicent took another strained gulp, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and suppressing a small burp. "Sorry," she mumbled, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Henry's grin only widened.

There was an undeniable charm about her, Henry thought, as he reached out and tucked a strand of her red hair behind her ear. Millicent's big golden amber eyes locked onto his, causing him to clear his throat and retract his hand. No, he needed to stay focused. His task was to haze the innocent, mousy American girl, not to develop feelings for her. "So, what brings you to London, Millicent?" he asked, trying to redirect his thoughts.

"Milly, please," she groaned, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I hate Millicent. I'm half convinced my mother hated me. You haven't even heard my middle name yet."

Henry laughed, enjoying the small frown that formed on her face. Millicent took another large gulp of her beer. "Milly it is," he agreed, sipping slowly on his own drink as he flagged down a waitress for refills.

"Well, my mother passed away a few months ago, right before I graduated from high school. I had the opportunity to come here and attend college, so..." She shrugged shyly, meeting Henry's gaze.

"Oh," Henry sighed, a pang of guilt washing over him. "I'm sorry about your mom."

Millicent shook her head, finishing her beer and pushing the empty glass away. "I don't want to talk about that."

"Sure," he chuckled, deciding to change the subject to something more lighthearted.

***

Millicent emerged from the bathroom, her steps unsteady as the effects of the beer coursed through her veins. The unfamiliar sensation of being drunk left her disoriented and vulnerable. She shook her head, trying to regain her composure and not wanting to embarrass herself in front of Henry. As she scanned the pub, her heart sank when she realized he wasn't in the booth anymore. Instead, she spotted him standing with a group of guys near the bar.

"Henry," she said with a hopeful smile, reaching out to place her hand on his arm as she approached him and his friends. However, he immediately pulled away, his rejection felt by everyone in the group. Millicent's confusion deepened. Weren't they just sharing moments of laughter and flirtation?

"Millicent," he teased, wrapping his arm around the shoulder of an attractive blonde girl who seemed to embody everything she felt she lacked. His grin widened at the disappointment he saw etched on Millicent's face, while the rest of the group reveled in their own amusement. "What do you want?"

"I... I..." Millicent's voice faltered, her words failing to find their way out in the face of the overwhelming humiliation.

"Y-you what?" the girl on Henry's arm sneered, her condescension dripping from every word. Millicent felt tears welling up, the sting of hurt intensifying.

Henry stepped away from the group, his gaze meeting Millicent's with a mix of remorse and defiance. He couldn't ignore the pain he had caused, even as he chose to bury it deeper. He observed the tears streaming down her cheeks, a heavy weight settling upon his heart. "You thought I would be interested in a mousy little American girl with her nose always in a book?" he taunted, his words laced with a cruel edge. Despite the bravado, an undercurrent of guilt tugged at him, a recognition of the damage he had inflicted. "You were just a game, a dare," he confessed, nudging his friend before turning back to the blonde girl and engaging in a final act of callousness, the collision of their mouths sealing his betrayal.

Millicent stood alone in the middle of the pub, her world crumbling around her. The echoes of laughter and the departing footsteps of the group filled the void, amplifying her isolation. She wiped her tear-streaked face on the back of her hands, a mix of emotions washing over her. The blend of alcohol-induced sickness and the profound sense of betrayal left her feeling hollow, wounded by the realization that she had been nothing more than an object of amusement.

***

Darren observed Millicent as she settled into the car, her voice on the phone conveying a sense of distress that tugged at his heart. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice.

She shook her head, her movements mechanical as she fastened her seatbelt. Tears streamed down her face as she stared blankly out of the side window, lost in her own thoughts and emotions.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Darren offered, his voice gentle and understanding.

Once again, she shook her head, this time with greater urgency. The pain she was experiencing seemed too raw, too overwhelming to put into words at that moment.

"Okay," Darren replied, respecting her decision to remain silent. He understood that sometimes words were inadequate in capturing the depth of one's emotions. "If you change your mind, remember that I'm here for you. We can talk whenever you're ready."

He started the car, the engine's hum enveloping the silence between them as they began their journey home. The weight of unspoken pain hung in the air, but Darren's presence and unwavering support offered a glimmer of solace amidst the turmoil.