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Did I just cheat on my wife?

Author: Clove
last update Last Updated: 2025-01-19 05:22:05

Chapter 10

Freya's POV

I felt my spirit come out of my body at Ambrose's mention of my hatred for potatoes. No one knew about it, and I was glad I could come up with a reasonable explanation. He had already threatened to oppress me tonight if I didn't hold his hand. But my mind was fixed: I would make my son recognize me, even without joining hands with him.

But I couldn't understand why my heart shattered again the moment Michael caught Emma from falling. I swallowed a large lump of saliva. At that instant, I felt stupid as I gulped my drink.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Sorry I slipped...I...am sorry," Emma said shakily before walking swiftly away.

I knew she made it all up. Michael had done nothing wrong; we weren't in love, nor were we committed to each other. But why did I feel cheated on? I wasn't in love with him, was I? No, not again, not a billionaire again, and certainly not Ambrose's brother.

Alexis finally broke the silence. "What was that, cousin?" But I couldn't muster the courage to meet his gaze. The unfamiliar sensation of jealousy still lingered, leaving me bewildered.

I secretly glanced at my phone[ 8:30.] It was getting late, and I thought it would be best if Grandpa excused us.

"Would you all have just watched her fall?" Michael shot back, rising to his feet. "Anyone would have done what I did, Alexis. Don't make a mountain out of a molehill."

But his response did little to make me feel better. The way he'd rushed to Emma's aid without thinking still lingered in my mind. It was clear that he still had feelings for her.

"Grandpa, it's getting late," Michael continued, his voice softer now.

"Not so soon, Michael," Grandpa said with a warm smile, resting his expensive cane on the floor. "I wouldn't have invited you all this late if I'd wanted you to leave."

I caught Michael's gaze as our eyes locked. He looked taken aback by Grandpa's suggestion. "What do you mean? That we sleep over?" Michael asked, his fingers raking through his hair. "I haven't slept here in a while." he voiced.

"Michael, don't you think Grandpa deserves some respect?" Ambrose cut in, his voice dripping with condescension. "You might be your mother's son, but...show us some respect."

Michael's response was swift and sharp. "And you might be only God knows whose mother's son...I didn't think you've ever deserved a single shred of respect from me."

I gasped, shocked by Michael's bold words. This was the first time anyone had ever challenged Ambrose. I could see a familiar wicked glint in Ambrose's eyes, a look that sent shivers down my spine. It reminded me of the countless times he'd slapped me, turning me into his personal punching bag.

"You both! I still deserve some respect," Grandfather thundered, his cane striking the floor with a loud crack. "Michael, Ambrose is right. No one's leaving tonight. There's nothing wrong with you sleeping here tonight."

Michael's resistance crumbled, and he nodded reluctantly. I watched with growing unease as Ambrose persuaded Emma to stay the night as well. What was he planning?

A flutter of anxiety settled in my stomach. Michael and I had never spent a night together. The one time we'd tried, I'd broken his precious portrait, and ever since, I'd been sneaking into my room late at night, after the cousins were asleep. Except that night, when I woke up in his room .

Now, there was nowhere to hide. The thought of sharing a night with Michael, especially after his actions earlier, filled me with awkwardness and hurt. Yet, I felt forced to play along, to pretend that everything was fine. But it wasn't.

****"

Michael's POV

I had no desire to spend the night at Grandpa's. Aside from the awkwardness of Freya's presence, it would stir up painful memories of Bella. I hadn't slept over since her passing. Her room was just a stone's throw from mine, and every night, I'd be haunted by dreams of her.

The thought of facing those memories again was frightening . But I'd lost the battle, and now I was struggling to cope with Freya's presence. Standing outside the mansion, I grasped a bottle of whisky, left with no choice. If I must sleep, I'd have to drink myself to sleep.

"Hey," Emma's soft voice called out. I turned to see her standing behind me, her eyes locked on mine with an endearing gaze. I quickly looked away, not wanting to draw attention to her presence. I didn't want anyone to misinterpret the situation.

I took a step back, intending to leave, but Emma's hand closed around mine, holding me in place. "I love you," she whispered, her breath sending shivers down my spine.

I felt defenseless against her words. "I'm married," I replied, my eyes shut tight, as if that alone could block out the truth of my feelings.

"You don't love her, you love me," Emma said, her voice piercing through my defenses. "I can see it in you. You love me."

I gritted my teeth, feeling my emotions spiral out of control. "I know we didn't end things the right way," I began, but Emma cut me off.

"Ambrose said you're doing all this to get back at me," she said, her eyes flashing with determination. "The earlier you stop, the better for us. What if she falls for you?" Emma's voice dropped to a whisper. "You can marry me instead. If getting married is what it takes to get the inheritance..."

I gulped down more of my drink, feeling the effects of the alcohol coursing through my veins. My thoughts were growing cloudy, and I knew I needed to get away from Emma before things escalated further. This wasn't right; I had to escape before I lost all control.

"Emma, stop," I snapped.

"If Grandfather finds out about everything, you might lose the inheritance completely. This is deception, Michael. You might lose it forever."

I let out a deep, mocking chuckle. "I'm not deceiving anyone. I love my wife." The words felt like a betrayal, but I forced them out.

Emma's eyes narrowed. "Why did you hold onto me while I was slipping? Why did you create the impression that you still loved me in everyone's presence?"

My response was instant and sharp. "I would have done it for Alexis."

"You need a woman like me by your side. Your brother will stop at nothing to get the inheritance. He'll do anything to claim it. Freya knows nothing about Ambrose, and besides, she's too weak." She said, her voice laced with conviction and hatred.

I took a deep breath, a nagging doubt creeping in. What if Emma was wrong about them?

I finally asked the question that had haunted me for years. "Then why did you leave me five years ago? Why?"

Emma's composure shattered, and she burst into tears, her body shaking with hiccupping sobs.

"I regret everything," Emma said, her voice trembling. "But I couldn't face you. I've tried to speak with you and return, but I was scared of rejection. I couldn't take it when I saw the news about your marriage all over the internet."

I looked away, my eyes fixed on the ground as I continued walking. Emma's words trailed behind me.

"Bella would have loved us to be together," she whispered, as I spun around, my eyes flashing with anger. "Don't you dare call her name," I snapped.

Emma nodded quietly, a tear falling from her lashes. "Without Michael by my side...I'd rather die," she said softly, her voice barely audible.

She took a step back, her eyes locked on mine, before turning to walk away. I felt a jolt of alarm; I knew Emma was capable of acting recklessly.

"Emma...don't," I called softly, my heart racing with concern.

"Don't stop me," Emma whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Michael." She approached me, her hand brushing against my cheek. I didn't flinch or push her away, despite knowing I should avoid her. But I wanted to give her hope, to keep her by my side. After all, Freya and I would divorce in six months. If Emma left, I'd be lonely again.

Emma's fingers danced across my cheek, jaw, and lips. "Michael?" she whispered again, her breath warm against my skin. Before I could respond, she grazed her lips against mine. I hesitated, but this was Emma, my first love. We took each other's virginity.

I returned the kiss, my eyes closing as I wrapped my arms around her delicate waist. But suddenly, I opened my eyes to see a petite figure staring at me from afar, shock and pain glittering in her eyes.

"Freya," I said, breaking free from Emma. But Freya gave me a look I couldn't understand before turning and running into the mansion. I felt like I'd lost all sense of reality.

Had I just cheated on my wife? And who was the real victim here; Emma or Freya?

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