Mitchelle’s POV:
Ever since Mirabelle had come back into our lives, it felt like bad luck had come between us. I hadn’t shared a bed with him in weeks, and every day without his warmth made me feel isolated.
I gathered the courage to go to Ken’s room when I woke up. But he wasn’t there; I noticed the clothes that were scattered all over the floor, so I decided to pick them up.
As I bent down to pick up a stray sock, something caught my eye beneath the bed. It was a folder, slightly open.
My curiosity piqued, so I pulled it out.
When I opened it, my heart sank. It was a contract between Ken’s company and Mirabelle’s.
This was why Ken had been so happy yesterday. He was probably daydreaming about the life he could have with her if they ended up relating perfectly well while working.
He was taking steps to create a future with Mirabelle. The thought made my stomach churn, as I slammed the folder shut.
By the time Ken came home later that afternoon, I was ready. The door swung open, and there he stood, with a grin on his face.
“Hey!” He said, stepping inside and tossing his bag onto the floor.
“Hey? Is that all you have to say?” I shot back, crossing my arms.
He looked taken aback. “What’s wrong now? Did something happen?”
“Did something happen?” I echoed. “You’ve been out playing around with your ex-wife while I’m left here wondering if I even matter to you!”
He narrowed his eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.” He said, turning to leave.
“I saw the contract in your room, so you really have set your mind on getting her back?”
“I don’t have time for all this madness Mitchelle. Whatever you saw in that contract was just business, nothing more.
“Just business? With Mirabelle? Are you seriously trying to downplay this?” My voice rose. “You’ve completely disregarded me ever since she came back. I’m nothing but a footrug in your life!”
“Don’t act like a victim here.” He retorted. “You not some sorry-ass wife who is being neglected by her husband because he is busy hanging out with his ex/wife’s stepsister.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked, genuinely confused.
“What I meant is that I see a better future, so please don’t distract me.”
“Oh, the future you want with her?” I shot back. “You think I didn’t see the way you look at her? The way you smiled when she walked into your father’s sitting room a few days ago?”
“Oh really, you noticed. Shocker, I wasn’t expecting anyone to notice.” I said, sarcastically. Taking a step closer.
“It looks to me like you’re trying to resurrect your old flame!” I snapped. “It would never happen.”
“I can’t believe you’re being this childish,” Ken said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m doing what I need to for the business. This is about my livelihood, not some twisted love story.”
I felt a sharp pain in my chest. “Your livelihood and not our? Firstly, I found the contract that you were negotiating with her, and you didn’t think to mention it to me. I thought that you weren’t going to work with her anymore.”
He sighed. “So what? It’s just a business deal. You’re taking things too personally.”
“Of course, I’m making it personal! It is personal!” I replied.
Ken’s expression shifted. “What do you want me to say? That I don’t want her back?”
“You ungrateful piece of shit!” I said, and suddenly, I felt his hands landing on my face.
Once again, Ken slapped me
He took a step back. “You’re so fucking delusional.”
“I wish that you were more supportive if. Maybe if you were supportive, just maybe
I wouldn’t feel so alone!”
“Alone? You’re the one who’s pushed me away!” Her voice trembled. “Fine! Maybe I should just call the police and report you for domestic violence since that’s how you’re treating me!” I blurted out.
His eyes widened. “You wouldn’t do that. You’re bluffing.”
“Am I? Let’s find out!” I reached for my phone. Before I could call the police, Ken walked away.
As I dialed 911. “Yes, I’d like to report domestic violence. My husband is verbally abusive; he hits me, and he makes me feel threatened,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
“You’re serious?” The police officer asked.
“Dead serious,” I replied
A few minutes later, while I was busy in the kitchen and Ken was seated in the sitting room the doorbell rang. “Who could that be?” he muttered, glancing at the door.
“I don’t know. Maybe your new business partner?” I shot back, a smirk tugging at my lips.
Ken opened the door, and I watched as his face fell. Standing there were two police officers.
“Are you Ken Sylvester?” One of them asked.
“Yes, what’s going on?” Ken replied, genuinely confused.
“We received a report from your wife. And we need to speak with you regarding the domestic violence case.” The officer said, stepping forward.
“What? No! This is a misunderstanding!” Ken protested.
“Sir, we need you to come with us. You have the right to remain silent.” The officer continued, moving closer.
As they began to cuff him, Ken looked back at me. Mitchelle, you wouldn’t really do this!” He exclaimed.