Fake Husband, Real Affair

Chapter 3

"All the bags are packed, and thanks to you, I'm completely over this trip. Just stay home from now on, don't go anywhere!"

Sean snapped before slamming the car door and driving off with Mischa, leaving me standing there with a stack of heavy suitcases and a heart full of disbelief.

It was the peak of summer, scorching, humid, relentless. Under the blazing sun, I dragged each suitcase back into the apartment by myself, sweat mixing with the sting of disappointment.

In Sean's eyes, I would never be as gentle or thoughtful as Mischa. The way he looked at her, it was the kind of look you give someone you've just fallen for. She smiled, and like clockwork, he smiled right back.

I let out a bitter laugh, shooting him a cold glance. "Now I'm her sister? Every time you bring her here unannounced, do you even think to ask how I feel?"

Sean's expression hardened. He yanked the towel off his shoulder and tossed it in my face. "Krystal, what the hell is wrong with you today? It's pouring outside, what did you expect me to do? Leave her out there?"

"Where she goes is her business," I shot back. "You're the one babying her like she's made of glass. She probably doesn't even care."

Smack.

Without warning, his hand struck my cheek, sending my head whipping to the side. The sharp sting made my eyes water, not from pain, but from shock.

Mischa rushed toward me, her voice soft, her expression full of concern. She reached out as if to comfort me.

"Krystal, please don't fight with Sean. He only takes care of me because he loves you," she said gently, eyes wide and innocent.

The words were so twisted they made me nauseous. I shoved her away. She stumbled, right into Sean's arms.

He caught her, and his glare turned even darker.

"Are you out of your mind? Mischa's trying to help, and you push her? Have you completely lost it?"

He stormed toward me, but Mischa held him back.

"Sean, stop," she pleaded. "Please don't be mad. Krystal didn't mean it."

Then, like she'd rehearsed it a hundred times, her eyes filled with tears. Her voice trembled just enough to sound heartbreaking.

"Krystal, I'm sorry. I didn't realize coming here would upset you so much. If you didn't want me around, you could've just said so… There was no need to push me. I should've never come back with Sean. I didn't mean to make things uncomfortable."

She turned to Sean, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're soaking wet… go change, or you'll catch a cold. You care about me, and I care about you too."

Then she looked at me again, pretending to hold back a sob. "If Krystal doesn't want me here, I'll leave."

She made a move toward the door.

Sean reached for her instantly. "Mischa, no, don't go!"

The rain outside pounded harder, slapping against the windows like even the sky was on her side. Lightning cracked across the dark sky, followed by a deafening roll of thunder. Mischa screamed, covered her ears, and threw herself into Sean's arms.

Holding her close, he glared at me with frustration.

"It's not safe for her to leave in this weather. If you don't want to see her, she can sleep in my room tonight."

I let out a low, bitter laugh. "Your room? Do you even remember that I'm your wife? That room is mine too. If she stays with you… where exactly do you expect me to sleep?"

"A good wife would be more understanding," he snapped. "There are plenty of rooms in this place, clean up the study and sleep there. Or, if that's too much for you, go stay at a hotel."

And just like that, he led Mischa upstairs, still trembling in his arms.

In Sean's world, Mischa couldn't get wet in the rain. But me? I was free to wander the storm alone, searching for a place to sleep.