"I love you Klas"

Part 27

Klas's pov:

Three days had passed since Mickey's departure. The night he left me alone with Willow, I drove to my parents' house to share the unsettling events. Despite seeking answers from Max, his uncertainty mirrored mine, assuring only that Mickey needed solitude at times. I yearned for an opportunity to explain, to dispel any notion of betrayal. I wasn't unfaithful; circumstances had been misconstrued. My thoughts lingered on Ethan, I hoped he remained unharmed, fervently wishing Mickey hadn't succumbed to impulsive actions.

Morning arrived with a weariness that clung to my bones. I languidly rolled around until Willow, in her innocence, queried, "Where's Papusha?" I planted a kiss on her head, reassuring her that perhaps today would bring Mickey back. She pouted, recalling my assurance from the previous day. "I don't know, Willy," I confessed, carrying her downstairs to the kitchen.

Greeted by my mother's morning welcome, we joined them for breakfast. Concern etched my father's face as he inquired, "Any text or call from Mickey?" I shook my head, and my mother, sensing my distress, offered comfort. "I'm sorry, dear," she cooed, patting my hand. Although tears threatened, I held back, unwilling to unsettle Willow. Her innocence was a fragile sanctuary I sought to preserve from fear and confusion.

As we enjoyed our breakfast, the distant sound of a car parking outside interrupted the quiet morning. Excusing myself, I walked to the door and swung it open, gasping at the sight of Max and my husband, Mickey, stepping out of the car. "Mickey!" I exclaimed with excitement, rushing to embrace him, only to be met with his rejection. "Stop it, Klas," he uttered sternly, leaving me in shock. Stuttering, I attempted to convey my thoughts, but Mickey walked past me, entering the house. Turning to Max, who regarded me with sympathy, I sought an explanation. "I'm sorry, Klas, I tried," he confessed, leaving me puzzled about what he meant.

"What do you mean, Max?" I asked, frowning, but he shook his head, urging me to follow him inside. In the living room, where my parents and Mickey were gathered, I attempted to address Mickey, but my father gestured for me to sit beside him. My mother, sensing the tension, softly inquired, "What's going on here?" Mickey sighed, his demeanor grave. "I'm filing for a divorce," he announced, and a freezing sensation seized me. Shock and a whirlwind of emotions overwhelmed me, and soon, I found myself sobbing uncontrollably. My mother enveloped me in a tight hug as I sobbed harder; the unexpected notion of divorce from Mickey, my partner of six years, left me shattered.

Desperate for answers, my father spoke gently, "Okay, there must be a reason, Mickey." As he patted my back, Mickey offered a solemn explanation. "I guess I've done a lot for him, just for him to cheat on me twice," he disclosed, and I sat up, looking at him in disbelief. "Mickey, I didn't cheat," I pleaded, recounting the events. He shook his head, uttering, "Once a cheater, always a cheater." I cried, pleading with him not to proceed with the divorce, the foundation of our relationship crumbling before my eyes.

In the midst of the emotional turmoil, Willow entered the room, her innocent confusion evident at the sight of my tears. "Dada?" she queried, and Mickey beckoned her over. "Legally and technically, Willow is mine, so once the divorce is confirmed, I'm taking her," Mickey declared. My heart wrenched, but I fought to stifle my sobs, not wanting to distress Willow further.

"Dada, what's wrong?" she asked innocently. Mickey kissed her head, assuring her that everything was fine. My mother voiced her objection, deeming the situation unfair for me, given my years of care for Willow. Mickey acknowledged, "I know. I'll think about it." Rising, he carried Willow with him as I pleaded for one more chance. Mickey walked past us without a response, leaving me shattered.

Turning to Max, my parents sought answers. "Max..." my father began, prompting a reluctant response. "Alright, I'll try again, but I can't promise you," Max conceded before leaving with Mickey. Alone in my room, I locked the door and crumpled to the floor, hugging my knees as tears streamed down. The profound love I held for Mickey left me unable to envision happiness without him. He was the air I needed to breathe, and the ache in my heart echoed the depth of my despair.

Mickey's pov:

"Mickey, you've got to think again," Max urged as I drove back home, my eyes fixed on the road. "Think what? I'm keeping my decision," I retorted, my tone resolute.

"He's your husband," Max added, and I shook my head lightly. "Soon to be ex," I stated, a touch of bitterness in my words. Max scoffed, probing further, "So you don't love him anymore? Or is this just your temper? Can't control the anger, and you'll regret it after?"

I remained silent, contemplating Max's words. Growing up, anger had been a constant companion, leading me to impulsive actions and regrettable decisions. However, this situation felt different. Klas's betrayal was undeniable - witnessing his infidelity and acknowledging his past confession of cheating. I believed in his inherent goodness, but his actions shattered that belief. Love, I mused, wasn't demonstrated through deceit; it was genuine, steadfast, and unwavering.

I refused to be the desperate one. If Klas sought someone else, I'd be the one to walk away, not him. It wasn't about him dumping me; it was about reclaiming my self-respect. As we arrived at Natalie's house, I parked the car. Stepping out, I left Max to carry Willow inside, the weight of my decisions lingering in the air.

I barged into Natalie's house, sinking into the couch with a heavy sigh. Millie, sensing my distress, descended the stairs and settled beside me, her gaze fixed on me. Annoyed, I frowned at her, prompting her to speak. "Did you guys get back together?" she asked hopefully. I scoffed at the notion. "I went there to talk about divorce, how the fuck would we get back together, dumb ass?" I retorted, indifferent to her eye roll. She jabbed my arm, attempting to provoke a reaction, but I ignored the feeble attempt. "So Willow will end up having one parent," she remarked, a touch of guilt in her tone.

"Nope, there's me, the father, and Natalie, the mother," I replied bluntly, unmoved by Millie's attempt to burden me with guilt. "Natalie's my fiancée, Mickey," she clarified, and I nonchalantly shrugged. "One parent, I guess."

"Mickey, I'm not saying this to hurt you, but you grew up with your mother only and sometimes just your father, and you never had the two of them present at the same time. Look at you - you used to be miserable; you admitted that too. So you don't want your daughter to be like that, do you?" she reasoned. Feeling the weight of her words, I stood up, sighing. "I'll find someone new!" I declared. Millie laughed, dismissing my proclamation. "It's either you stay single forever because nobody likes a grumpy old man like you, or you're just not capable of loving someone else other than Klas," she remarked. The truth stung; Klas had accepted me despite my flaws, and since meeting him, no one else had captured my attention.

"Fuck this," I stammered, unwilling to admit Millie might be right. Storming off to my room, I heard Millie yell after me, "Mickey, I'm not done!" The echoes of her words lingered, challenging my resolve to face the uncomfortable truths she had unveiled.

I lay on the bed with Willow, who was peacefully asleep. Whispering softly, I played with her hair and contemplated the complex situation with her father. A sharp knock on the door interrupted the tranquility. "What!" I snapped, irritated. Natalie entered, taking a seat on the bed and offering a teasing remark about my age. Unfazed, I met her gaze with indifference.

"Fuck you want?" I said, rolling my eyes, and Natalie chuckled. "You're such an old person," she teased, attempting to lighten the mood. My expression remained stoic.

"So, tomorrow is my wedding. I need you and Klas to come, no matter what, Mickey," Natalie informed me, and I sighed, realizing the approaching event. "Is it tomorrow?" I asked, feigning forgetfulness, and she groaned in response. "Yes, Mickey! I told you before," she retorted, and I smirked at my apparent lack of enthusiasm.

"Come with Klas, alright?" she pleaded, and after a reluctant nod, I agreed to attend the wedding. Natalie then brought up an unexpected topic. "What about the body in the storeroom?" she inquired. Confused, I raised my brows. "What body?" I questioned, genuinely unaware. She shook her head, recounting that a guy had been brought to the house four days ago.

"Oh yeah, fuck," I muttered, recalling the forgotten incident involving Ethan. With a casual dismissal, I justified my actions, "It wasn't my fault; he flirted with my husband. I warned him, and he chose to ignore it." I expressed my aversion to giving second chances, especially to those who posed a threat to my family. With that, I rose and headed to the storeroom, acknowledging the complexities of life that had momentarily slipped my mind.

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