Chapter 13 - Season 1: Secret Affair
2040 Words
The serenity of the morning shattered like glass the moment we heard a woman’s voice calling Mike’s name. The sound of Liz climbing the stairs sent a ripple of panic through both of us.
Mike froze, his face paling. “Michael, I think I forgot to lock the door last night… That’s Liz. She’s coming upstairs,” he whispered, his voice tinged with dread.
“What?” I gasped, anxiety gripping my chest. “You didn’t lock it?”
“Mike… Mike… Mike!” Liz’s voice grew louder, more insistent, until it was just outside the door.
We heard the sharp click of the doorknob being twisted. She was trying to open it.
“Mike??????” Liz called out, her frustration escalating into full-blown irritation.
She banged on the door, her fists echoing like a judge’s gavel. “Mike, open up! What’s taking so long?”
Mike and I scrambled, the air between us thick with panic. We pulled on our boxer shorts in a desperate rush, only to realize the absurdity of the situation—I was now wearing his crisp white Armani pair, and he had on the glow-in-the-dark boxers he had dressed me in the night before.
The room, once so spacious, now felt suffocating as we frantically searched for a hiding spot. The bed? Too obvious. The cabinets? Too small. Under the furniture? Impossible. Mike glanced at the terrace, but a quick peek revealed his godbrother Ramiro below. The terrace was out of the question.
Liz’s knocking turned into a relentless pounding. Her voice was a shrill crescendo of impatience. “Mike, open this door now! Mike!”
I gritted my teeth, the irritation bubbling to the surface. This woman is impossible. What a nightmare!
"Mike!!! What the hell is going on in there?" Liz’s voice cut through the room like nails on a chalkboard.
Mike suddenly grabbed my hand, his eyes darting toward the bathroom. “Come on,” he said, dragging me across the room.
He shoved me inside the bathroom and pulled the shower curtain closed. “Hide here,” he whispered, his voice trembling.
I slid down into the bathtub, my heart pounding in my chest. “Baby, wet your body,” I whispered urgently. “Say you were showering, and that’s why you didn’t hear her. And put your iPhone in your bag. That’ll explain why you missed her calls.”
Mike’s eyes lit up with relief. “Baby, you’re a genius. That’s exactly what I’ll do,” he whispered, grabbing the showerhead and dousing himself in cold water.
“Go,” I urged, my voice trembling.
Mike hesitated for a moment, peeking back behind the curtain. His gaze softened, and for a moment, it was as if all the chaos outside didn’t exist.
“Michael…”
“What is it, Mike?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I love you,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips despite the tension in the air.
“I love you too,” I whispered, my heart fluttering even in the midst of our predicament.
“Mwah!” He blew me a quick kiss before stepping out to face the storm waiting on the other side of the door.
As Mike opened the door, Liz’s voice burst into the room like a tempest, loud and grating.
“Mike, I’ve been knocking forever! Why did it take so long to open the door?” she snapped, her tone sharp and accusing.
Mike, still damp and clutching a towel, remained calm. “I was showering, so I didn’t hear you,” he said smoothly.
Liz’s eyes narrowed. “And my calls? I’ve been calling you all morning!”
Mike gestured toward his bag. “My iPhone’s in there. I fell asleep right after I got home last night, and I went straight to shower when I woke up.”
Liz crossed her arms, her eyes scanning him suspiciously. “Were you drinking last night? Were you out with your friends again?”
“Just a little,” Mike admitted, his voice steady.
“Are you sure?” she pressed, her tone dripping with doubt.
“Yes, Liz,” he said firmly, his patience clearly wearing thin.
Liz sighed, finally seeming to relent. “Fine.”
Hidden in the bathtub, I let out a silent breath of relief, hoping she would leave soon. The tension in the room was suffocating, but one thing was certain—Mike had handled her with a calmness I couldn’t help but admire. Still, I couldn’t wait for this unwelcome interruption to be over.
What a morning.
The room fell silent, and for a brief second, I allowed myself to hope. Maybe she’d leave. Maybe this nightmare would end. But then, I heard it—a sound that made my stomach twist and my chest tighten.
A kiss.
My heart thundered in my ears, the ache sharp and immediate. A lump formed in my throat, jealousy surging through me like wildfire.
"Wait, Liz. I need to change," Mike’s voice broke through the silence, firm and detached.
"Okay," Liz replied, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. "But honey, I miss you."
"Liz, just wait," Mike snapped, his tone growing colder.
Her voice turned sharp, her words slicing through the air like a dagger. "What’s wrong with you, Mike? You’re always like this lately. Are you even trying? I’m your girlfriend! Soon, I’ll be your fiancée… and your wife."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. My blood boiled. Fiancée? Wife? I gripped the edge of the bathtub, my knuckles whitening. Did Mike propose to her? My mind raced with anger and betrayal.
Haaaaay, how I’d love to burst out of this bathroom and slam her face into the floor! The thought flashed through my head unbidden. I imagined flushing her down a giant toilet, the satisfaction of seeing her swirl away.
I let out a frustrated sigh, trying to steady my trembling hands. My chest felt like it might explode from the pressure of jealousy and possessiveness. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.
And then, I heard it again—the faint sound of another kiss.
“I’m sorry, Liz. We’ll find time for that again soon…” Mike’s voice sounded strained, tinged with frustration.
Liz’s voice, however, turned theatrical, dripping with melodrama. “Are you getting tired of me? Is that what you’re trying to tell me, Mike?” Her words came out in a whine, and I could almost see her attempting to embrace him, to force herself closer.
Mike’s frustration snapped like a taut wire. “No! Why can’t you just stop?! Please! I’m not in the mood!”
A victorious smirk tugged at my lips despite the situation. Good! Because Mike’s mood is all mine now… huh! I whispered sharply to myself, satisfaction momentarily eclipsing my jealousy.
“Okay, fine!” Liz finally relented, her tone petulant.
I strained to hear what was happening, every nerve in my body on edge. Silence stretched between them, tense and unbearable.
And then, her voice softened. “Mike, I’m sorry,” she cooed, her tone sickeningly sweet.
“It’s okay,” Mike replied curtly, his voice colder than before.
Before I could exhale in relief, her next words sent a chill down my spine.
“I’ll just go to the bathroom,” she announced.
Sheeeet! She’s coming in here. My breath caught in my throat, panic clawing at my chest. What do I do?! Haaaaay...
“Wait…” Mike tried to stop her, but Liz ignored him completely. She pushed the bathroom door open, stepping inside and shutting it behind her with a decisive thud.
I pressed myself further into the bathtub, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure she’d hear it.
“Come on, Mike, I really need to go!” Liz huffed, oblivious to my presence.
And then, she plopped down on the toilet.
Prooooooooot, proooooot…
The unmistakable, mortifying sound of her “business” filled the small space. My jaw dropped in disbelief.
What is happening?!
The smell hit me next, acrid and suffocating. I clamped a hand over my nose and mouth, forcing myself to take shallow breaths. My stomach churned, and I felt faint from the sheer intensity of the stench.
This was torture. Pure, unadulterated torture.
I squeezed my eyes shut, praying for some divine intervention to pull me out of this nightmare. But all I could do was endure—trapped in the confines of the bathroom, hidden behind a shower curtain, while Liz fouled up the air and my sanity.
Mike, I swear, you owe me for this.
From outside the bathroom, I could hear the smooth rhythm of R&B music drifting in, a stark contrast to the chaos brewing inside. Liz rummaged loudly through her bag, muttering under her breath, her every movement grating on my nerves.
“Oh my goodness, Ramiro. Why would you put this used condom in my bag?” Liz’s voice rang out, sharp with disgust.
I froze. Condom? My stomach twisted.
“Oh s**t, I’m out of sanitary napkins,” she sighed dramatically, adding to my rising discomfort.
Why would Ramiro put a used condom in her bag? My thoughts spiraled. Were they up to something shady? My head spun with disbelief. This woman is a walking scandal.
Liz grabbed her phone and dialed Ramiro, her tone biting. “Ramiro… Hello? Why did you put this gross condom in my bag?”
Ramiro’s voice came through, casual and carefree. “It’s a souvenir from last night, babe.”
“What???” Liz hissed, her voice dripping with venom. “You’re disgusting! You should’ve thrown that thing away at the motel!”
“If it weren’t for that condom, we might’ve had a baby by now,” Ramiro replied with an audacious chuckle.
Liz scoffed. “Are you insane? I’m on my period. Didn’t you notice last night when you… uh… ate me out?”
I nearly gagged. Ewwww. Ramiro really did that? What must that have tasted like? I stifled a laugh, the absurdity of it momentarily breaking through my unease.
“Sorry, babe,” Ramiro said sheepishly before shifting gears. “By the way, don’t forget we have a Valentine’s Day date and honeymoon planned.”
Liz groaned. “We can’t go on a date for Valentine’s Day because I’ll be with Mike that day.”
“After you’re done with him, then?” Ramiro pressed.
“Huh?” Liz hesitated.
“Okay, how about February 22 instead? I’ll be upset if you refuse. And no more of this for you!” Ramiro teased suggestively.
“Fine, the 22nd then. After all, that’s our first anniversary… Okay???” Liz relented, her tone softening.
“Wow, sure… You’re so sweet, babe. That’s why I love you so much,” Ramiro said, his voice sickeningly affectionate.
Liz huffed. “Alright, buy me some napkins. I’m out because of my period. That’s why I made you wear a condom last night. Hurry up! Okay, bye!” She hung up with an audible sigh.
I sat frozen in the bathtub, my mind racing. What did I just hear? Liz and Ramiro? Together for a year? And Mike had no idea.
This changes everything, I thought. If I told Mike, Liz would be out of his life for good. It would be my chance—our chance. But no. A pang of guilt tugged at me. I didn’t want to win Mike over like that. He deserved to discover the truth about Liz and his godbrother Ramiro on his own.
Minutes passed in agonizing silence. Why was Liz still here? Haaaay, it’s been more than five minutes since she hung up on Ramiro… My nerves were fraying. And then, out of nowhere, I hiccuped.
“What’s that?” Liz’s voice rang out sharply.
My breath hitched as her footsteps drew closer to the shower. I could see her fingers curling around the edge of the curtain.
She was about to pull it open.
My eyes widened in panic, my pulse roaring in my ears. Oh my God… no…
To be continued…
- Writer
