No More Games

18

Sasha's Point Of View

Even though I told Michael I was over it earlier, I really wasn't. The whole time at Disneyland, I tried to keep a somewhat happy face and try not to think about it. Every time I stole glances at Michael, he looked exactly the same way he did when he was cheating on me two years ago. Happy. He was laughing and having the time of his life as if he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Despite not having any real solid proof that Michael is messing around with someone else, my intuition is having me believe that he is. I can't deny that feeling I'm having in the pit of my stomach.

Trevor and Michael were having a blast. I really didn't want to be the Debbie Downer that brought negative vibes to their fun. Plus, this was Michael's last day off until he was back to work and heading to another country to continue his tour.

It was about 8:15 p.m when we finally made it back to the house. My feet were killing me from all the walking and trying to constantly escape paparazzi at that giant theme park. I did try to enjoy myself as much as I could though.

After taking a nice warm shower and getting into my pajamas, I climbed into bed with my favorite James Patterson book to read before going to sleep. Meanwhile, Michael was down in the dance studio working a sweat.

A knock on my door interrupted my reading. I looked up and asked who it was and it was Trevor. He came in and sat on the bed next to me.

"Hey, Trev." I placed my bookmark in between the pages I was reading and closed the book. "What's up?" I gave him my full attention.

"Just came to check on you. You seemed kind of off all day." He said.

I chuckled, trying to play it off. "What do you mean? I wasn't—"

"Seriously, Sash?" He rolled his eyes. "Stop playing. I know when you're going through something and trying to hide it behind fake smiles and shit. You could talk to me."

I sighed heavily. He was right. He's also the only person close enough right now that I can vent to. "It's Michael." I said in almost a whisper. Even though I can hear the faint sounds of music from downstairs, indicating that Michael is still dancing, I felt as if he'd probably still hear me.

"What about him?" Trevor kicked his shoes off and got completely in the bed.

"I think he's messing around again." It hurts just saying it.

Trevor's face grew concerned. "Really? What makes you think that?"

"I just feel it. That whole week I was in L.A, we mostly argued when we spoke on the phone or we just didn't talk to each other at all." Trevor shrugged and rolled his eyes. "But no, that's not the worst part. I found a condom wrapper in his nightstand. The only brand that Michael uses but he swears it's not his and that it was there before we moved in."

Trevor raised a brow in curiosity. "What do you mean the only brand he uses?"

"It's some foreign shit that they don't sell in the States. I think it's from South Africa or something." Trevor grimaced causing me to chuckle. "Yeah, I don't know either. He said they're the only ones his skin doesn't have a bad reaction to."

"Ok. . ." Trevor sighed and shook his head. "Well, you can't really jump to the conclusion that he's cheating though. Like, what if they sell those condoms over here too? And what if someone—"