Chapter 23**

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Micah's POV


I didn't know how to feel about everything. My husband was a murderer. Maybe not directly behind the gun, but he ordered the kill.


He had the power to order something like that.


I shivered at my thought and wrapped myself up tighter in the cover. I did miss Michael's warmth in bed, but I couldn't bring myself to cuddle up to him. Until I found out why he killed her, I couldn't be in his presence without flinching in fear.


The sad thing is that I'm too scared for the response that I'll get when I ask him why he did it. Does he have a dirty secret to hide? I sighed and rolled over again to get comfortable, but just couldn't do it. I looked at the clock.


7:47.


I sighed and picked up my phone, dialing Blaise. "Hello?" His voice was still thick with sleep and I felt guilty taking away his sleep on one of the only days he got to actually rest.


"Hi, Blaise. Can I-" I hesitated, but I was too far to chicken out now. "Can I come over?" I heard ruffling and Blaise's voice sounded clearer now.


"Sure thing, Micah. Is something wrong?" I didn't really know how to answer that question.


"No, but I just need to get out of the house." I said goodbye and got out of bed and changed into something that was warm and comfortable. I grabbed my phone and keys and froze when I looked at the doorway.


"Where are you going?" Michael looked haggard. He hadn't shaved and he had dark bags forming under his eyes.


"I'm going over to Blaise and Gabe's place." He nodded absently and scratched his beard tiredly.


"Why?"


"I- I couldn't get comfortable." The sadness that reflected in Michael's eyes chocked me and I looked away quickly. I hated seeing Michael so heartbroken and sad.


Because of me.


I grabbed my baby bag and positioned it on my shoulder. "Wait, are you taking Sophie and Conner, too?" Michael had tensed and he looked panicked. I nodded and he took rapid breaths looking around panicky. "Micah, you can't leave me. Don't do that. Please, I'll do anything. Want me to move out of the room? Fine. You want me to turn myself in? I'll do it, just don't leave me!"

His reaction scared me more than anything because of how scared he really was to lose us. Somehow Michael had ended up in front of me, on his knees, gripping the front of my jacket. I laid a hand on his cheek. "I'm not going to leave you, okay?" He looked up at me and all guards were gone.


His usually stormy eyes were clear as day and he looked like a lost 5 year old who needed confirmation from his mother. "Promise?"


I kissed the top of his head and hugged his head to my stomach. "I promise, Michael. I'm not leaving." I felt horrible because there was a heavy 'yet' that hung in the air left unanswered by either of us.

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