~Chapter 67~

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*Marilyn's Point Of View*

These mood swings are killing me. I can go from Medusa to Aries in point five seconds. I know it's killing Michael, because he always seems so stressed. Until mood swing number three, that is (which he's all for). I find it funny that he is trying to hang in there, but I definitely appreciate him.

After literally exploding about the incident between Michael and the whore, Michael called my mother (his way of solving the problem), and had her give me a long sermon of keeping myself and the baby healthy and happy, by minimizing stress.

Well you try living in my world where there's either whores, money hungry diplomats, or six children (well seven, having one on the way), of course mother had advice for that too:

"Have your damn tubes tied. There is no sense in bringing anymore Jackson's in this world with what's going on now" She scolded me.

She fussed onwards, stating that she's worried about my pregnancy. Being that I'm near forty, my reproduction system had slowed down and is probably not as strong as it was when I was younger or last had Jordyn.

That scared me when she said that. I have heard a lot of horror stories surrounding middle aged women pregnancies. I just hope that won't be my story.

I stressed to mother that I am fine and will be fine, I just have to eliminate stress. That means getting rid of anything and any one, who is causing this.

After the long talk, she told me she wants to come and visit for my birthday weekend. I am more than elated about that. I feel her presence (anything to remind me of home really), would be great for the kids and Michael and I.

Which leads me to thinking, what is going to happen for my birthday?

I'm one year closer to forty, and have pretty much done what I've always wanted to do. I married my best friend, I have four, almost five children, and I have the best sister any girl can ask for, Yuli. So, I wouldn't know what to do.

Loosing my train of thought I glance over to my right side, awing over a very well sleeping Michael.

After the kids returned home from the birthday party, Michael I had "a simple talk" with them, then prepared dinner, made a few select phone calls, and came to bed (so he thought).

My mood swing from earlier still being very active, and in full effect, I didn't let my poor husband sleep without a smile on his face. Therefore, I spread enough satisfaction for the both of us, he's messy hair and snoring proves that.

Though I'm a little calmer about the incident with Michael and Evelyn, I still want to talk to her. I may want to bash her head in and drag her across America, but my mother is right, if I confront her, I have to be a woman about it.

I'm sure she'll have enough class to at least own up and talk (apologize) to me for continuously harassing my husband. I just don't know when or how I should do that. I'll definitely have to think on it.

My thoughts come to an abrupt halt by the ear piercing siren of Michael's cellphone.

I am not a woman of snooping, but Michael rarely receives calls at this early in the morning.

I glance at our alarm quickly to check the time.

3:45 A.M.

That's very early for someone to be calling.

I wait a few more seconds to see if Michael will wake up to answer, but when he doesn't, I reach over him and grab the cellphone.

I tap Answer, preparing for who ever is on the other line.

A Million Way's To Love You™∽For All Time∽♥Book 5Where stories live. Discover now