HIS INNOCENT SIN

CHAPTER 36

I noticed it's been a week since I haven't heard from Michael. He stopped sending me flowers or anything. It annoys me, but I just wonder—I don't even care. But as the father of our child, I must be wondering where he is.

Sitting in my chair, doing my work while our child is staying over with his auntie for the moment, I am alone in my home working on my business. I don't like when people can't do their simple jobs, and as I am busy with my work, someone rings the doorbell. I check, and it's Michael, soaking wet. Is he okay? I immediately opened the door. His polo sleeve is wet, his necktie is disheveled, and he looks messed up and drunk.

"Michael, what's going on? What happened?" I lock the door behind me to make sure I am safe. He can't even stand or walk properly. As I try to help him, he pushes me away, distancing himself.

"Don't go near me. Don't touch me, or I will die." Is he crying? Is Mr. Michael Ledford crying in front of me?

Still I help him, I let them sit on the sofa. I do not care if it will be wet or something but as long as he is okay and comfortable. He suddenly murmured some words can't understand as he tried to hold my arms and smiled at me like a baby and was so needy.

"You look so beautiful Jenna." I rolled my eyes and try to wipe him with a dry cloth.

"Stop doing this kind of nonsense," Jenna insisted, frustration evident in her voice.

"No, I just don't understand why you're being so distant. Before, you were so submissive, and you only loved me. But now, you're different, and that guy, that motherfucker, is trying to take you away from me. Jenna, please don't leave me," he pleaded, his words a mix of desperation and intoxication. As he begged, Michael couldn't ignore the reality that he was drunk, and drunk people often say things they don't fully comprehend until the sober light of the morning reveals the weight of their words.

"Jenna, I love you, please baby come back to me, please."

My heart is pounding like crazy as he keeps needing me like this. It makes me weak, he makes me feel soft, and I've never seen him so gentle and needy before, begging for a second chance.

I dry him up and change his clothes. Almost feeling weak, I notice his nice figure, his abs, broad shoulders, and chest. Memories of how I once slept with him flash through my mind. I shake my head, snapping back to reality, reminding myself that it's all in the past, and I have to move on.

Feeling his confidence and desire, I'm tempted to share an intimate moment with him. My thoughts are becoming intense, but I realize I need to rein them in. I managed to help him into comfortable and snug clothes, and I'm delighted to have this dinosaur-themed nightwear that's both furry and soft. It's oversized, providing a perfect fit for him. Currently, he's asleep in the other room, as the sofa got wet. He looks like an angel in his sleep, but I'm bracing myself for the possibility of him waking up like a lively spirit.

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My alarm clock blares annoyingly, signaling the need to wake up. Today, our son will visit this afternoon, but for now, I must rise. As I become aware of an unexpected weight on my chest, I realize someone is sleeping beside me. It turns out to be Michael, comfortably resting with his head on my chest. I'm taken aback by this intrusion.

I wake him up, and he winces in pain as I spank his arm. Annoyance and frustration show in my reaction.

"Why are you in my room?"

"Because I wanted to sleep with you."

"Did I allow you to sleep here? Get out! I said get out, Michael!"

He is annoying and I do not know what to feel, like everytime he does this my heart beats so fast, I hate him but when he tries to prove himself he will change and he can be a better person for me and our child, then he will feel so sincere. But I am afraid I must be careful and not let these feelings like I was so naive before and afraid he will take my son away from me. 

I'm furious, so I storm downstairs to cook breakfast, only to find Michael, shirtless and with a physique that seems straight out of a novel. Why does he have to be so attractive? I quickly avert my gaze, not wanting him to catch on to my thoughts.

"Hi, princess. Hungry? I made scrambled eggs and waffles, your favorites," he says casually.

"I can cook on my own," I reply, trying not to let his actions please me.

"I know you can, baby, but let me do it."

My cheeks heat up despite my efforts not to react too much. I roll my eyes, and he smirks, stepping closer to me. He pulls out a chair for me to sit at the counter, but I try to maintain some distance. He corners me with his strong arms, making it almost impossible to resist.

"What are you doing, Michael?"

"Flirting with you. Rolling your eyes is not a good thing, princess. If you let me, I'd punish you with spankings right now," he says with a deep, enticing voice. My eyes widen, and I'm rendered speechless. He makes me feel flattered and weak, to the point where I want to bend my knees and submit again. He teases me, lifting my chin and leaving me wanting more. It's as if he's about to kiss me, but he moves away swiftly, smirking with a devilish and seductive look. I'm annoyed and intrigued all at once.

"Whatever, can you just go home?" I am annoyed and want him. That's the reason to avoid him because I want him.

As we eat, he talks a lot, but I deliberately avoid showing any interest or giving him my attention. Eventually, he notices and falls into an awkward silence.

"Do you like your breakfast?" he asks.

"No, I don't like it. I'm tired. I need more sleep," I reply, getting up to walk away. Every time I see him, all I can recall is the pain he caused in my past.

"Jenna, please don't do this. I'm trying to be good."

"Then don't be good. You don't have to pretend."

"I'm not pretending, Jenna. All I want is a chance for you to appreciate the things I've done. You don't have to love me back easily, but try it, not just for me, but for our child."

"Have you really thought about those years, those tears, those moments when I wanted you by my side, begging for your mercy and love? Do you think I can erase those traumatic memories you've caused? I begged for you because I loved you. I was so naive and stupid about your love that you couldn't even give it to me," I burst out with anger and tears, emotions that I haven't expressed in these past years.

"There is still pain, Michael. You don't trust me, you don't care for me, and you choose your pride and anger over me and our child. So tell me, why should I forgive you? Because every time I see you, all I think about is the Michael that ruined my life."

He stares at me, tears welling up in his eyes as he fights not to cry. He looks away quickly, attempting to conceal his emotions.

"I'm sorry, I-I just have to clean this, I guess," he stammers, avoiding eye contact.

Feeling guilty for the pain my words caused, I approach him, but he avoids me, succumbing to a panic attack. His movements become frantic as he tries to escape the hurtful situation.

"Michael, enough. Come here. Just put those plates down and come here, please," I urge, hoping to offer comfort and bridge the emotional distance between us.

"No, I have to wash dishes, I have to go home too."

As he washes the dishes, I observe him and sense that he's sobbing in pain. It's a side of him I've never seen before—sweet, fragile, and needy, yet still dominant and possessive. I hug him from behind to provide comfort, and he stands up, wipes his hands, and faces me by the sink.

"I'm sorry, but that's how I felt. I just don't want you to feel pressured anymore. I'm happy to be this."

"Is that because of the guy you've been flirting with, the one you're already satisfied with?" he asks. In an attempt to make him stop, I lie, despite the conflicting feelings I have—revenge, hatred, yet an inability to stop thinking about Michael. I nod and hold his hands. "I'm sorry. All we have to do is what's best for the child."