Patterns of a Bloodline

Chapter three

Junie had meticulously allotted herself a full three days to mentally prepare for a crucial conversation with Michael, her ex. And now, the ticking clock indicated that a scant ten minutes remained until their anticipated meeting. Each of these fleeting minutes felt woefully insufficient to alleviate the heavy, gnawing anxiety persistently weighing her down.

Michael was about to step foot into her new home, a symbol of her newfound independence. It was bought with the hard-earned money she'd made working for Celia, combined with the occasional financial assistance from Michael himself. A part of her wished she had postponed inviting him until after she'd completely furnished the house, just to witness the look of surprise on his face.

However, the mature, rational part of Junie was well-aware that acting out of spite or seeking petty revenge was futile. The reality was that she missed Michael's presence in her life, and this profound sense of loss was the source of her nerve-wracking anxiety. The primary agenda for today's confrontation was to gain closure by unpacking their breakup and the events that led to it, not to entertain the idea of giving Michael another chance at their failed relationship.

Guided by the sage advice of her mentor, Celia, Junie was determined to approach the conversation with directness and honesty. She made a pact with herself that she wouldn't fall into Michael's emotional manipulation, wouldn't get lost in his pleading, puppy-dog eyes, and most importantly, wouldn't succumb to the temptation of makeup sex. This could potentially sway her resolve, make her more vulnerable to his seemingly sincere but ultimately hollow apologies, and lead her back into the toxic cycle they were both better off without.

Time flew unnoticed as Junie prepared for Michael's arrival. And then, as if on cue, the doorbell rang, signalling his punctual arrival. Gathering her nerves, Junie took a deep breath and opened the door, maintaining an air of nonchalance. However, her calm facade nearly wavered the moment she laid her eyes on him. His gaze, warm and attentive, had a way of making her feel weak in the knees. Yet, she managed to maintain her cool, flashing him a half-hearted smile and turning her back to him as he stepped into her home.

Michael took a moment to glance around, his gaze exploring the space. Junie knew he was assessing the place, probably comparing it to their old shared home. She held back any comments, choosing her words carefully, and only speaking when necessary. She allowed Michael to inspect the living room as if he owned it, his eyes scanning every nook and cranny.

"Looks nice and cozy," he finally remarked, his eyes drifting up to the ceiling, taking in the light fixtures and the paint job.

"Thanks," Junie replied, her voice nearly echoing in the nearly empty room. She nodded a couple of times, acknowledging his comment but not adding anything more to it.

Finally, Michael turned his gaze back to her, his eyes studying her face with a familiarity that was both comforting and disconcerting. His eyes traced the contours of her face, the way he used to do while she was sleeping. Junie was beautiful, effortlessly so. She looked good without even trying, her casual attire and minimal makeup accentuating her natural beauty.

One noticeable change was her usually curly hair was now straight. It was the first time he had seen her without her curls, and it suited the shape of her face well. She was unknowingly drawing him in, her aura captivating him, making him yearn for conversations and moments that were now relegated to the past.

Junie had always been Michael's lifeline, reviving him when he felt hollow. Despite his repeated assurances of this, she always doubted it.

"I like your hair," he said, his voice blank, as he tried to hide the intense sexual attraction he felt for her, his eyes failing to mask the desire that flickered in them.

Before she knew it, Junie was caught in Michael's gaze, a look that made her forget her rehearsed lines and all the advice Celia had given her. She had to look away, otherwise, she could get in trouble.

While focusing on the floor, Junie began, "The first thing I want to say - "

"You know I hate when you don't look at me," Michael interrupted.

He knew how to draw her in. She felt as if she couldn't escape his allure, that eventually she would succumb. Junie pushed these thoughts aside, replacing them with Celia's encouraging words. When she was ready, she looked at Michael, determined not to be distracted.

"I want to apologize first. I know the silent treatment wasn't mature," Junie started.

"I apologize, too," Michael said humbly, "Don't you have chairs to sit on? It's awkward standing up."

Michael was nervous, anticipating the conversation's turn. He had a confession to make to Junie, one that would likely upset her.
Junie, slightly annoyed by the interruption, brought pillows from another room for them to sit on.

"Comfy?" She asked sarcastically.

Michael chuckled, "Very."

"Alright, where was I?" Junie continued, "I started to have trouble trusting you. I felt alone, used, and deceived. You promised you wouldn't be with another woman, but you were. It felt like a betrayal. I wanted to leave, to make you feel the pain you caused me. I can't say I want to be with you again because I'm not sure I do. I just want the truth. Was it only one time?" Junie asked.

This was the moment that Michael had been dreading, yet knew was inevitable. It was his opportunity, and perhaps his only one, to confess. The confession he had to make would shatter her, he was sure. It would break her heart into a million pieces, but he also knew that perhaps, just perhaps, he did not deserve Junie. Perhaps he was not worthy of the love and trust she had so freely given him.

As the weight of his impending confession pressed down on him, Michael could feel his body heating up. The room seemed to close in on him, and he felt a sudden urge to create space, to breathe. With a shaky hand, he removed his jacket, fully aware that Junie's sharp eyes were watching his every move. He could feel her gaze on him, studying him, trying to read the situation. But he couldn't face her, not anymore, not after he revealed the truth that he had been hiding. Not after this confession.

"You were right," He began to confess, but his courage failed him. He had to tell her the whole truth.

Michael moved closer, firmly gripping her waist. Junie's eyes were blank, but he saw the sadness creeping in.

"How many?" She asked, her voice low.

He swallowed hard, "Three."

"Three times?" She asked.

Michael shook his head, "I cheated with three other women."

He expected an outburst, but she froze. It was as if Junie was fading away. The revelation hit her hard, leaving her bewildered. 'Three other women,' she repeated to herself.

Inside, Junie was seething, confused, and frustrated. She recalled Celia's advice, controlling her anger. She walked over to the door, opened it, and signaled for Michael to leave.

Michael looked at her, defeated. He knew he'd lost her forever. But he wouldn't let her go without saying anything, like the last time. As he walked towards the door, he tried to meet her gaze.

"Don't even say anything. Just leave." She said firmly.

Without a word, Michael did as Junie desired and departed from her house. His footsteps were as heavy as his heart. His departure was shrouded in a silence that was more potent than any words he could utter.