My Husband, Whose Heart Belongs To Another.

17. I say POTATOES, you say potaHtoes.

Harieth

I dialed the number once more before bringing it close to my ear, my eyes now staring at my own reflection in the mirror whilst the makeup and hairstylist kept trying to finalize their work on me. After ringing for a while, it stopped and I brought it down, away from my ear in order to dial once more before returning it close to my ear. Now staring once more at my reflection, I realized a little frown had surfaced between my brows, ruining my beauty. How annoying.

“Why isn’t she picking?” I questioned in frustration and irritation as I decided to dial Paris’s number instead. I brought it close to my ear and the exact same thing happened regardless of countless times I had tried calling them both. For some reason, their phones were either switched off or just rings to infinity. Since the problem with the press blew up, we haven’t spoken and truthfully, I was a bit worried. Are they ignoring my calls on purpose and if so, why don’t they just come right out and say they don’t want to associate with me anymore?

“That’s enough, don’t you think!?” I snapped in frustration at both artists as their constant movement around me finally got to my nerve. They instantly stopped and before I could lash out my frustration at them, Ms. Petite suddenly intervened.

“Okay, that’s enough. She looks very beautiful. Thank you and well-done ladies.” She appreciated as she made them tag along with her till they finally left the dressing room.

I couldn’t care less if I hit a nerve with those two. My life was falling apart and my so-called friends think it’s okay to abandon me in the middle of it. Truly, they’ve never seen the other side of me. Soon enough, they will.

“Are you okay Harieth? You look a bit…”

“I’m fine. Let’s just get over with this already.” I snapped as I instantly got up from my seat and made my way out of the room. Soon enough, Ms. Petite was on my tail.

As I approached the setup shoot, I could see Emerson and her husband. Slowly, I stopped on my tracks whilst staring at them for a moment before my eyes searched for my husband. One glimpse of him and I could see how hard he was trying not to stare at them. An unexplainable sigh eluded my lips as I look away from him, my very pitiful husband. I can’t believe this is now my life.

“Okay. One last shot.” The photographer announced much to my relief and so for one last time, we cooked up a simple smile, all four of us, portraying the happy family everyone might believe we are. How delusional. I just want to get over with this. I just want it to be over already. I’m not usually camera irritated but this moment feels quite irritating. We say we’re a family but I can sense so many secrets between us. My husband won’t tell me the real meaning behind the way he stares at Emerson. I know everyone can see it. It feels like they all know but I’m being made a fool out of. These are the times my most trusted allies are needed and yet, they’ve become unreachable. They used to answer my every call and now… What’s going on in my life?

Finally done, everyone began walking away from the background.

“No, not you two.” He stated referring to Christian and I. So we aren’t done? One look at Paula Petite behind the photographer, she put up thumbs up for the both of us as well as a simple smile. A light sigh eluded me as I returned to my position. It wouldn’t be funny if her ideas don’t have a good impact on my publicity.

“Much closer.” He suggested regarding the position Christian and I were in. My eyes met his once and I looked away, suddenly feeling quite uncomfortable as we drew closer.

“Good. You two have a hold of each other and look into each other’s eyes like you can see the stars in them. Try to portray how madly in love you are with each other.” The photographer proposed and I couldn’t help glancing his direction. If only he knew how untrue those words are.