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I loathed Mickael... but he was the only man who could save us from our financial cliff. “Mickael, how lovely to see you again.” “Deena... As gorgeous as ever. I see you have come dressed for the occasion, with your lovely long legs out for everyone to see.” “Thank you.” The fact he was already ogling my figure repulsed me. “I find your charm most flattering.” Mickael wore a grin as he nodded at Toby. “You’re a lucky bastard.” “I know.” “See you in a half an hour, Toby.” My heart fluttered and I felt my skin clamed up. I glanced at Toby with desperate eye, before stepping into Mickael’s office. The office was softly lit and the walls were painted in maroon. Large paintings of exotic vistas hung in simple frames that were subtitled with motivational phrases. Mickael gestured for me to sit on the two seater leather couch. He sat behind his neatly kept desk which seemed far too organised for a man of his apparent background. Leaning forward from his chair he smiled, showing a gold. But the one question that I needed answering was the one that was going to hurt the most. I wasn’t interested in why, or who he was, or anything like that. This had been going on for ten years! When Sarah was born my wife had turned to me and said ‘Enough! We have one of each, and both are healthy,’ so these would be the last little feet to pitter-patter around the house. My own wife had betrayed me, and still to this day was betraying me, but had she committed the ultimate betrayal? Whose were the children? Even as I drove back to the office it must have been on auto-pilot. Carol told me with a smile that Marty made it to the hospital in time to see his daughter enter this world. All I could do was nod my head, and that alone saddened me. Usually right about now would have been the perfect excuse to pull out pictures of my own two children, but the image of my wife walking down that corridor hand in hand with that guy was burned into my memory. The branding iron used to do it also.
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