"Well, come over, and I'll tell you," he presses.
"Fine... I- I'll be there soon. Bye, Michael," you mumble, forcing your voice to stay flat and free of emotion. Instead of going into your neighborhood, you turn around, speeding off to head towards his house.
Finally, you arrive. A nervous swirl of uncertainty settles in the pit of your stomach, warning you just how bad of an idea this is. As you knock on his front door, you cross your arms over your stomach to hopefully subdue it's warning signs.
The door flings open, and your eyes catch his expectant gaze. "Hi," you greet. To invite yourself in his home, you take a giant step forward to enter the warmth of his house. The familiar smell of his cologne hangs lightly in the air as you brush past him.
"Do you want to know why I cheated on you?" Michael asks, skipping all of the friendly small talk instantly.
"Yes, I do. I want to know why the fuck you cheated on me. No, not just why, but who the hell you cheated on me with. I think I deserve that little bit of information too, don't you think?" you interrogate. The woman who was in bed with Michael left as soon as she heard you gasp. She had on minimal clothing - just her undergarments - and left with the pile of her clothes in her hands. The woman had kept her head down the whole time, so you couldn't identify who she was very well.
"She was just someone I met in a club. She gave me her number, so I called her. She came over, and we had sex. That's it," he explains. You scoff and scrunch your eyebrows.
"That's it?" you ask, not continuing until you see Michael nod his head. "So the whore who was in our bed one day before our two year anniversary was just some girl you picked up from a club? Is that really it, Michael? There's no other explanation?"
Michael nods his head again, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his sweatpants. "Pretty much."
"Bullshit!" you yell. For dramatic effect, you throw your arms up in the air. "Were you just bored? Is that it, Michael? Were you bored of jacking off while I was at work? Did you call up this woman because your sorry ass couldn't wait for me to get home?"
"Oh, please!" Michael scoffs, his eyes narrowing at the sight of your arms crossing over your chest. "Even if you won't admit it, you know damn well why I cheated on you. No matter how hard I tried, you always blew off having sex. You used stupid excuses, like, 'I'm too tired,' or 'I'm not in the mood.' That went on for months, and I was getting tired of it. Everyday, you'd come home from work completely exhausted. I wanted to take care of you, make you feel good. You never let me, and I could only do so much for you."
Your face fails to express any emotion as you struggle to form a proper sentence. At last, you manage to recollect your thoughts, "Well, if you were faithful and loyal - if you had just waited, I would've had sex with you eventually. What am I supposed to do here? Apologize for being tired? Say, 'I'm sorry,' for not having sex simply because I didn't want to?"
Michael sighs, doing a quick once-over of you before walking closer to you. His voice dramatically decreases in volume as he finally responds, "All I wanted to do was take care of you. I wanted you to be able to come home from a long day of work and just let me take care of you. I wanted to show you that a tiring day of work didn't have to be a bad thing."
"It was never a bad thing, Michael. I- I..." you trail off, unsure of how to continue. Michael weakly smiles, moving his hand up to tuck the falling strands of hair behind your ear.
"I know, and it's my fault for thinking it was. I made a mistake... a big mistake. I was getting angry and impatient, and a kiss on the lips just wasn't enough for me. I needed more, and instead of waiting for you to feel the same, I turned to another woman. I'm sorry. I really am sorry," Michael apologizes, not bothering to capture your gaze once he sees your eyes wander around the room.
"D- Did she give you what you wanted, Michael? Did she love you better than I could?" you question, finally mustering up the courage to look him straight in the eyes. Your voice breaks, and you struggle to blink back tears. You flicker from one eye to the next, unsure of where your stare should rest.
