Michael Jackson Imagines

My Husband's Brother Pt. 4

After the excitement, I managed to find sleep. I wake up by the sound of my alarm clock nearly knocking me out the bed. After hitting the snooze button twice, I finally decide to slither out of the warm covers. A nice hot shower later, I leave the master suite, and go towards the living room. I see everything is how it was left before the sexcapade.

"No, no, no, baby...It's not like that. Don't get the wrong. I like you a lot. I just think we need to cool things down for the time being."

Michael keeps his voice low, as him and Danielle speak in the next room. I tiptoe through the kitchen, stopping a little before I approach the other end, leading into our den area. There Michael is, standing before Danielle, whom is obviously heartbroken. She wipes tears from her eyes, while crying softly.

"I thought you liked me." She sniffles.

"I do. It's just...With this divorce, and everything, I have a lot going on at the moment."

"You're in love with her?" Her voice cracks from the strain of emotion she attempts to hold back.

"No, I'm not in love with her, Danielle."

"Then, why are you doing this to me? I thought you cared about me."

"I care about you. Just, not in the way you want me to."

Danielle wipes her eyes with some tissues, obviously devastated, Michael is letting her down.

"Listen, we can—"

"Don't you dare, say we still be friends. Dammit, Michael! Here I am thinking you were different than the other guys I've met. You're an asshole just like the rest of them."

Danielle grabs her purse, turning to walk out of the door.

"Danielle, please. Let's not leave like this."

Danielle whips around quickly, and lashes across Michael's face. I could practically hear his jaw click, as she snatches away, slamming the door behind her.

Ouch!

Slowly, I walk up behind him, and he begins to slowly turn. He tries to hide his embarrassment, but it's too late.

"Trouble in paradise?" I ask sarcastically.

"No need to rub it in, okay? I already feel bad enough."

Michael walks past me, to hide in shame I assume. I quickly stop him by placing my hand on his back.

"I'm sorry. Why don't you join me for breakfast? Maybe it will take your mind off of things."

His shoulders become more relaxed, from their once tense state...

"Sure. I'll join you."

"Why are you women so damn hard to communicate with?"

Michael says once the waiter leaves our table.

I softly stir my straw around my glass of water.

"We're not hard to communicate with. It's just you men don't take the time to understand us."

"Excuse me? I do take the time."

Michael raises from his chair slightly, keeping his composure...

"No offense. But making a woman feel like a sex object is far from getting to know her personally."

He sighs in defeat, as relaxing against the booth...The place is packed, seeing it's getting closer to the lunch crowd coming in...We continue to speak over the loud noise.