honey [original story]✔️

2.

The Next Morning

I am still locked in the spare room, standing in front of the door and staring it down hard, not wanting to come out. I know he's going to work today, and I'm waiting for the clock to tick to 7:30 so he leaves, and I'm free to do my routine cleaning around the house undisturbed. I hear silent humming coming from outside my room, and i furrow my brows. Michael never sings anymore, and i know that for a fact. I get too curious, and i wrap my hand around the doorknob, and i eye the dried up blood from the slits in my wrist, and quickly cover them with the sleeve of my silk dressing gown, and tightening around my waist.

I open the door, and my nose in instantly greeted by the smell of bacon simmering through the air, and Michael's familiar melodic hums. I wander through the hallway, pacing my steps slowly, and i reach to my hand to fiddle with my rings by habit, but am soon reminded i threw them at him the night before. I turn the corridor, and my eyes are widened at the sight. Michael is tossing around bacon in a frypan, with two plates on the dining table, his humming becoming louder, and i recognise the tune, The Supremes 'You keep my hangin on'.

"Set me free why don't ya babe" he sings, more like a mutter, as he wiggles his waist around, the way i never see him do anymore. I furrow my brows, and cross my arms, leaning on the wall bitterly. He looks up, and at first doesn't react, but then slowly puts the frypan down, and i watch his adams apple travel up and down his throat.

"I made you breakfast before i go" he mumbles, tugging a strand of his short locks, pursing his lips. "You think this is going to fix things?" i bark, holding my arms tighter to my chest, and tensing them.

"What so I'm not allowed to make you food?" he defends. Before i can reply, he laughs in disbelief, shaking his head and throwing his arms in the air, surrendering.

"Oh I'm sorry I'm for trying to fix our marriage, ill just go and cheat on you with a secretary" Michael says sarcastically, as he slaps his hand down on the bench with a grunt. His hip hits a chair at the dining table and his shoulder shoves mine as he pushes past me, and i close my eyes, exhaling.

"Michael" i whine, spinning around on my heel, but he is already collecting his keys, and hoisting his coat over his arm. "Michael I'm sorry...come back" i sigh, walking up to him as he stands in the corridor heading towards the door, and he looks at me, shaking his head in disgust, his nose scrunched up.

"We can talk when I get home." he utters, putting one arm through his coat, and his keys jittering in his hand. I want to put my hand on his arm, holding him back, but its almost like he's a stranger, and i can't touch him...i haven't touched him in weeks. I finally hesitate my hand on his arm, and he is quick to stop what he's doing, and he widens his eyes at my hand, his breathing steadying. We don't speak, but just look at the contact between my skin and his, a longing feeling, one we used to not be able to live without. I forgot how soft his skin was.

"Stay please, I'm sorry" i say, and suddenly, he gasps, and swats his arm away from my hand. I furrow my brows, searching his eyes for an answer, and he suddenly picks up my wrist, almost twisting it he pulls it so hard.

"Whats that." he says firmly, forcing my wrist up to my face, making me have direct eye contact with my slit wrist. I gasp and try to pull my arm away, but he wrestles it back, his eyes cutting through me.

"When did you do this." he snaps, gritting his teeth together, and his jaw clenched. I shake my head, closing my eyes tightly and pursing my lips. If i told him the truth, it would break him.