Chapter 2
"Sophie, don't give me that look. You're freaking me out," came a cutesy, almost whiny voice.
The next evening, I walked in after work and that sugary line was the first thing I heard.
A young girl was lounging on the living room couch.
She was wearing an oversized men's white shirt, collar wide open, her collarbones on full display.
I knew that shirt; it was the limited edition one Michael picked up just last month.
Michael came out of the kitchen with a bowl of sliced fruit and set it down in front of her.
"Sophie, you're back," he said, glancing at me in an indifferent voice. "This is Emily Lane, my cousin."
"Your cousin?" I asked, slipping off my heels. "Since when did you have a cousin? I've never heard you mention her before."
"She's a distant cousin. We haven't talked in years," Michael said, handing Emily a toothpick. "She just moved to the city for work and doesn't have a place to stay, so she'll be staying with us for a few days."
Emily took a bite of her apple and shot me a sugary smile.
"Hope you don't mind! Michael and I were inseparable growing up—just like real siblings," she said, her voice all cutesy.
"Real siblings?" I walked over, staring at the shirt she had on. "Do real siblings really have to wear the same shirt?"
"Sophie, please don't misunderstand. I just got off the train and my clothes got dirty, so Michael just lent me his shirt," Emily said, her voice all sweet and innocent.
Emily turned and tugged at Michael's sleeve, looking all pouty.
"Michael, maybe I should just go... I really don't want to mess up your marriage," she said, her voice all dramatic and sweet.
Michael shot up from his seat as soon as he heard that.
"Why are you even talking about leaving? This is your home," he said, sounding extra serious.
He turned to me, his brows knitted in frustration.
"Sophie, can you stop being so petty? Emily's out here all by herself; so what if I help her out a little?"
"I was just asking about the shirt," I said.
"Even asking is out of line! You're being all passive-aggressive," Michael snapped, slamming the fruit bowl down on the coffee table.
"Acting like a boss at work is one thing, but now you're throwing your weight around with Emily at home? Who do you think you are?"
Watching him act all high and mighty, I actually found it hilarious.
Right on cue, the barrage of comments started scrolling through my mind again.
[LOL, Sophie got totally roasted; she's got nothing to say now!]
[Emily is pulling that classic retreat-to-advance move—Michael is totally falling for it.]
[Rocking Michael's white shirt? That's so hot. Just wait, they'll shrink down and get it on right in the shirt pocket.]
[Right under Sophie's nose, hooking up in Michael's shirt pocket—just imagining it is next-level excitement.]
I turned my gaze away, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
"Fine, if she's your cousin, let her stay," I said, taking a sip of water. "Where is she staying?"
"The guest room," Michael replied.
"And where am I supposed to sleep?" I asked.
"You'll sleep with me in the master bedroom," he said, like it was totally normal.
I raised an eyebrow.
He threw me out of the master bedroom last night, and now he wanted me back in there.
Guess he got some new tricks planned.
"Alright, sounds good," I replied, acting like it was no big deal.
For dinner, Michael ordered takeout—spicy food, all the stuff Emily loved.
My stomach's always been weak, so we usually stick to light meals at home. There was no way I could even take a bite of those dishes.
"Sophie, why aren't you eating? Are you just picky about takeout being dirty or something?"
"I've got a weak stomach, can't do spicy," I replied.
"Wow, you're such a princess," Emily pouted. "Michael used to be all about spicy food, but since you came along, he hasn't had a proper meal in forever."
She turned to Michael, looking all heartbroken for him.
"Michael, marriage really took away your food freedom, huh?" she said, her voice dripping with fake concern.
Michael sighed, his eyes showing a mix of resignation and almost doting tolerance.
"Hey, I married her, so what can I do? Go ahead, eat as much as you want. Just ignore her," he said.
I set my fork down and watched their act in silence.
After dinner, Michael eagerly led Emily into the master bedroom.
"Emily, didn't you say you were into miniature worlds? Let me show you the terrarium I just put together," he said, sounding excited.
"Wow! Michael, you're incredible; there's nothing you can't do!" Emily gushed, her voice all sweet and adoring.
They closed the door right in my face, but this time, they didn't even bother to lock it.
I walked into the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and splashed some water on my face.
The barrage of comments in my mind was practically spamming nonstop.
[Here we go, the real show's about to start!]
[Emily already took the shrinking potion, and Michael's getting undressed.]
[Tonight's scene is on Sophie's pillow! That's wild!]
I wiped my face dry, then grabbed the half-empty bottle of disinfectant from the sink and twisted off the cap.
If you two wanted to fool around on my pillow, I would make sure it was extra sanitized for you.