He still thinks your skin belongs to him because you haven't told him that you gave it to someone else.

“I'm not, Mikey,” she assured him, then let him hold her hand. Link their fingers together.

They chatted some more as they made their way to the beach. He talked about all the things he wanted to do while he was in Italy, and how excited he was that he was sharing the experiences with her. Mike had never traveled out of the United States. He didn't like to fly, and he'd once said he had no particular desire to travel. It was one of the reasons why they never went on vacation. Never even had a real honeymoon. Mike was a homebody.

“This is so beautiful,” he groaned, letting go of her hand and jogging up to the water. Mischa trailed behind him and stopped a ways back. Glanced to her right, to an outcropping of rocks that hid a special beach. A special secret.

“It is,” she whispered.

“And I'm so glad I'm here with you,” he added, turning back towards her.

She smiled as he walked up to her. She had missed him, in her own weird, fucked up way. She enjoyed talking to him sometimes, he could be so funny. She had missed that. She would miss it so much.

“Mikey, there's something -,” she began.

But she was cut off by him suddenly kissing her, wrapping his arms around her so tight, she found it hard to breathe. When he broke it off, she gasped for air, beyond bewildered.

“God, I've missed you, Misch,” he moaned, kissing down the side of her neck.

“What are you doing!?” she exclaimed, wiggling under his touch as his hands wandered down her body.

“I know things have been weird at home, I know, but this time apart has made me think. We're gonna try, okay? We're gonna try. You put in all that work to get your body back, so I'm gonna be more attentive,” he told her, kissing his way to her ear.

Wait … did he just imply that we weren't having sex because I'd gained weight!?

“Mike, stop, I need to talk to you,” she said, pushing at his hands as they got grabbier.

“We talk all the time. Shhhh,” he replied, then his tongue darted in her ear. She literally jumped.

“What are you doing!?” she squealed, jerking her head away from him.

“Spicing things up, trying something new,” he laughed.

“Blech, you know I don't like that! Stop it!” she demanded as one of his hands ran over her breasts.

“C'mon, there's hardly anyone out here. Let's be naughty,” he suggested, his other hand moving to her ass and holding her against him as he ground his hips back against her.

“Let's not. I have to talk to you. Michael, stop,” she snapped, planting her hands on his chest and pushing. The use of his full name caught his attention and he finally leaned away.

“What? Are you okay?” he asked, ducking his head to look her in the eye. All the flirtiness from a moment ago was gone, and Mischa got the feeling he was finally seeing her. Really looking at her.

And it wasn't a pretty sight.

“No, I'm not okay. Not at all. I have to talk to you, about something important. Something big,” she urged.

“Oh god. This is gonna be one of those talks, isn't it?” he complained.

Baby, you have no idea.

“Just sit down,” she replied, before dropping to her butt. He sat in the sand next to her.

“Okay, what's so important that it can't wait till after our amazing holiday?” he asked, his voice snide.

Oh god. I can't do this. How am I going to do this?

“Mikey, we've got some problems,” she started out slow.

“I know, babe. I just told you that I want to work on them,” he said back. She swallowed thickly.

“I know you said that, but … we've had these problems for a while, and … I just  …,” she struggled for words.

“What?”

“Sometimes things aren't fixable,” her voice was so small, even she could barely hear it.

“What do you mean? Of course they are. You've just been gone, it seems weird, we haven't seen each other in a month. Have we ever gone that long without seeing each other?” he pointed out. She shook her head.

“It was weird before I left. It was weird before I even agreed to this job. It's gone too far. It's not fixable anymore, Mike,” she told him, staring down at her knees.

“Wait,” his voice was serious and he turned to face her. “Wait, wait, wait. What are you saying, Mischa?”

“I'm saying …,” her voice kept giving out.

“Tell me you're not saying what I think you're saying,” he begged.

“I am.”

“No.”

“Mike.”

“No.”

“Mike. Things haven't been right for a while, and you know it. You're unhappy, I'm unhappy. It's gone too far,” she tried to explain

“No! No, we can fix this! Just come home, and we'll fix this, I want to fix this,” he told her.

“I don't.”

He gasped.

“Are you saying you want out!?” he sounded completely shocked.

“Yes.”

“You want a divorce!?”

“Yes.”

“Jesus, Mischa, we've been together forever! Just like that!?” he was yelling now.

“Not 'just like that'!” she yelled back. “This was a long time coming, Mike! I tried to talk to you about it! So many times! You always pushed it aside, or patronized me, or promised to change, or ignored me! So many times! Not 'just like that'!”




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