"I love you Klas"

Part 21

Mickey's pov:

After the intense day, we decided to give couple therapy a try the next day, hoping it would be beneficial for both us and Willow. That night, we didn't sleep together, and it felt strange. For six years, I had shared a bed with him, yet the idea seemed unfamiliar. I opted to sleep on the couch, leaving him with Willow in the bed.

I awoke to the sound of Millie and Natalie conversing, their interactions brimming with affection. I couldn't help but wonder how they maintained love after six years, much like Klas and me. Rising from the couch, I approached them, finding Natalie busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

"Morning, Mickey," Millie greeted, placing plates with bacon, ham, and egg sandwiches before us. "Sup," I mumbled, taking a seat.

"Are you ready?" Natalie inquired, sitting across from me beside Millie. "I guess, can't say no at this point," I responded, nonchalantly grabbing a piece of bacon.

"Mickey, this is serious; it's about your marriage," Natalie admonished sternly. I nodded in acknowledgment. Injecting sarcasm into the conversation, I quipped, "I get it, Klas is gay, and you guys are lesbians-the smart ones." Their eye rolls and annoyance were palpable.

"Do you realize that marrying another man makes you gay, Mickey?" Millie questioned, fixing her gaze on me. I shook my head, frowning. "Nope, Klas is, but I'm not," I giggled, earning more eye rolls. Klas's voice interrupted as he descended the stairs carrying Willow.

"Apparently, you're married to a straight guy, Klas," Millie remarked, Klas chuckled, "Mickey's always been straight." and I pointed at him, smiling sarcastically. She shook her head in disbelief.

In the therapist's office, as questions flowed, Klas took the lead in responding, while I remained disengaged. The therapist broached a sensitive topic, asking about encounters with a third person, casting a direct gaze between Klas and me.

"No, a girl tried to fucking kiss me or maybe fuck me, but I pushed her off. That's not cheating," I admitted without a second thought, unfiltered and unapologetic. Klas shot me a look, silently urging me to behave, but I only smirked.

The therapist turned his attention to Klas, inquiring, "What about you, Mr. Miller?" Klas sighed, revealing a reluctance to disclose. Irritated, I prompted him, demanding, "What?" He hesitated, frustrating me further. "You fuckin' cheated on me?" I confronted him, but he neither confirmed nor denied.

"Not cheated, but..." Klas faltered, and I snapped, "Can you talk damn properly with your tongue? It's getting annoying." He struggled to explain, and I pressed him, "Where?" Confused, I asked, annoyed. "We were fighting, and it was before you went to jail, remember?" he explained, a hint of fear in his voice.

"With who?" I demanded, locking eyes with him. He glanced at the therapist, sighing. "Well, I really can't tell you. Knowing you, you wo-" I cut him off, raising my voice, "WITH WHO!" His flinch revealed the impact of my outburst.

"He persuaded me, and I couldn't help, alright? I was stressed out with everything, and I did try to walk away, but Ethan-" He gasped, realizing he had accidentally mentioned the name.

"You're a one motherfucker!" I yelled, rising to my feet, prompting them to stand as well. The therapist attempted to calm me, saying, "Mr. Ruslanov, please calm down," but I dismissed him with a frown, my frustration palpable. "Fuck you!" I shouted, unyielding in my upset state. The therapist, with a smile, pleaded for us not to fight, emphasizing that this was precisely why we sought help. My irritation escalated.

"Oh, yeah?" I laughed sarcastically and unleashed a punch on his nose, sending him stumbling back onto the couch. Klas swiftly grabbed hold of me. "Okay, let's just go home first," he suggested, leading me away. "I'll fucking chop off your damn balls!" I yelled before Klas closed the door.

Silence lingered in the car on the way home. As I parked, I stormed inside to face everyone. They looked perplexed by my agitation as I scratched my brow, trying to calm myself. "Why are you upset?" Max inquired, concern etched on his face.

"I married a goddamn cheater," I spat, and Klas entered. "Mickey, let's talk about it in private," he suggested. In my fury, I grabbed a magazine and threw it at him, but he dodged it. Max intervened, holding me from behind. "Calm down, Mick," he urged.

"Your dada cheated on me with your damn teacher, Willow," I disclosed, locking eyes with Klas. Natalie swiftly picked Willow up and brought her upstairs. "Let's not bring the kid into this," she insisted, and I rolled my eyes.

Klas's pov:

Mickey remained inside with Max while I stepped outside to smoke with Millie. "Why did you cheat?" she asked, exhaling a plume of smoke. I sighed, shaking my head. "I don't know. Mickey had every right to be mad; he wasn't there, and I needed him," I confessed, and Millie enveloped me in a hug.

"You know, I read an article about couples together for 5+ years. They might fight every day because they've become tired of each other. Sometimes people need time off, and clearly, you two are like this because you love each other too much," she shared, and I looked at her, puzzled. "So, are you suggesting we should try someone else and then get back together?" I asked, and she chuckled, shaking her head.

"What I'm saying is you guys expect each other to be perfect. No one's perfect, and it's hard for you. Maybe you just need time off from each other, you know, talk and everything," she explained, and I nodded, grasping her point. "Have you heard of polygamy?" she inquired, and I shook my head. "It's when you and Mickey agree to let each other be with someone else. Not dating, but intimacy and stuff," she added.

"So, agree to each other cheating?" I questioned, and she laughed. "It's not cheating if you guys give each other permission," she clarified. "Well, it's either that or you guys can get a divorce," she continued. Just as I pondered Mickey's potential response, his voice cut in, asking, "Will I want what?"

I looked at Millie, and we shared an unspoken understanding not to discuss divorce in front of Mickey's gruff demeanor. "Will you want if I do anything you want so you can forgive me?" I quickly concocted the words. "Anything?" he queried, exhaling smoke. "Yes, anything," I affirmed, looking up at him.

"Well, all this time I'm the top. Why don't you let me try the taste of heaven, you know, fuck me?" he proposed, a cigarette between his lips. "oh, fuck, not this" Millie rolled her eyes, smiling, as she walked back inside.

"Well, as long as you can forgive me," I expressed, watching Mickey settle beside me. He replied, "It might take you a month of fucking me for me to forgive you," and I chuckled. "What are you, born-again bottom?" I teased, earning a threatening stare that made me quickly look away.

"So you're gay?" I laughed, and he frowned. "Bottoming for a month doesn't make me fucking gay," he retorted. I nodded, smiling as I rested my head on his shoulder. "I love you, Mickey," I declared, and he grumbled, "Yeah, love you, fucker"

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