Guides for the Pre-Engagement Life

When my gut told me that something was wrong, something was wrong.
I have had that feeling of something bad coming up since Michael left to London, and I didn't know exactly how to interpret it. I assumed it would be one of those moments where I would get hurt, but defiant as I am, I ignored it. I complained to Lia about it and she said to ignore it as she had always gone through the same thing whenever Derek was away from her for a long time, and it wasn't until they made it passed the five years together that she had gotten over it.
Apparently, it was a trust thing.
But I trust Michael. We'd always be apart for a long time anyway, it wasn't like every single day since I moved in we would be expected to be together. We survived most of 2009 apart since I lived in New York throughout that year, so why did I feel differently about that particular trip to London?

Trouble Brewing

One day, while I was innocently walking home from a walk to the park with Herman, I caught a glimpse of a tabloid magazine that had "Michael Phelps" and "Cheating" in one bold sentence, and I bought it without delay. I bought another three that I came across on my way home that had the similar sentence, and I began to feel very anxious and hurt for every step I took while staring at them.
Michael wasn't home, he went for lunch with his close friends, so when I got home, I was able to rummage through each magazine without disruption. I was very worried.
When I got home, I let Herman go and slammed the door. I rushed to the kitchen where I slammed the magazines on the counter and stared at it. I had nibbled on my lower lip in fear that what I may read inside. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge without letting my gaze part from the magazines, and the closer I got, the more my heart cringed.
Was this what my gut was telling me about?

"Here goes nothing," I gulped.
I dragged one magazine closer to me and began to flicker through the pages. It wasn't until the second half of the magazine that there was a whole page of snapshots from Michael's venture into London. I placed the bottle down and felt my eyes water. It wasn't just photos of Michael, but Ryan and Derek were snapped too. Though they were partying with two other women, and their arms were linked. I slid the next magazine on top of that one and flicked straight to the article, and it had similar photos, but that one had caught Michael with an arm around the female. I frowned and felt my hands shake. I didn't know how to react.
Was I angry? Upset?
I was too afraid to see the next one. Nonetheless, I opened it and found the same photos. I guess it wasn't just me who would be upset, because there was a photo of Derek with his arm around a blond woman's shoulders. Although the faces of the women they partied with were unclear, it was clearly stated that they weren't from any swim team or any Olympians, and they seemed like they just met at one bar and followed on a few more night outs too.
I didn't want to be the one to break the news to Lia or start something that I didn't know the full story. My fingers curled and clenched into a fist as I leaned forward and bury my face into my arms. I was about to cry, but when I heard the front door slam. There was something inside of me that swallowed up my tears and turn into a bit of a fury.
"Hey babe," I heard Michael greet me. "Are you okay?" He sounded confused.
I shook my head and straightened myself up. I lifted on magazine and pointed at the picture where he had his arm around the woman. I frowned and said with a shaky tone, "I'll be civil and mature about this, but who is this?"
"What is that?" He asked sounding more confused than before. His eyes travelled down to the other magazines on the counter and grabbed one away from me. He skimmed through it and cussed. "This was in London..."
"Yes, I know," I hissed as I threw the magazine onto the counter. I took a deep breath to calm myself and asked, "Who is that?"
"I didn't cheat on you, Anne-"
"-Don't lie to me!" I growled. "Michael, who are they?"
"Ryan met them at one bar and brought them along," He explained as he tried to reach for me. I pushed his hands away and stepped back. I didn't want him to touch me or even get close to me. The thought that he had been with another woman made me feel disgusted since he was in London three weeks ago.
"Do I want to know why you have your arm around her?" I just wanted all the questions answered before I overreacted.
"We were drunk, it was harmless laughing and joking around-"
"-You were drunk. Is that your excuse?"
"Anne, I didn't sleep with anyone. I wouldn't do that to you."
"I'm a little sceptical about that." I turned away from him and waved my arms about as though I wasn't interested in talking to him anymore. However, he followed me towards the living room. He kept calling my name to stop and listen to his explanation, but I was a stubborn woman, so I kept with my pride and continued on towards the bedroom.
He still followed.
It eventually got to my nerves that I turned around and slapped him right across the face. I was surprised with what I did, but then again, I needed to.
Michael stood in front of me, slightly stunned and speechless.
A whimper escaped my lips. "I don't want to talk about this. Whatever you were up to in London, then... Whatever, I don't want anything to do with you right now. I'm going for a walk, don't wait for me." I frowned as I turned my back towards him again. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry, but the ones that got loose were hard to hold back.
"Anne, why don't you believe me?" I heard Michael ask.
"Maybe because you had your arm around another woman," I explained as I clenched onto my phone and the house key on top of the drawer. "I guess I still battle with my insecurity knowing that you can probably get any woman out there and you still came to me. And I don't have anything to offer you." I sniffed and wiped my tears away before I turned around and faced him. He looked as upset as I was.
"I've been with you for four years, not once have I thought about cheating on you."
"If that's the case, then why would you do something that you know would get to me via the magazines? You know very well that I'd like honesty between us. I mean, I let you go to do your thing while I do mine, but every time I watch you fly out of Baltimore, I tried my best not to worry that you might find someone better than me."
"Can we talk about this?" He pleaded.
I shook my head. "Michael, I'll go rent a room." I lifted my bag from the chair and brushed passed him without another word. I gave Herman a light pat on the head on my way out and slammed the door behind me. When I hailed for a cab and waited, I spotted the nosy paparazzi from the corner not too far from me, and they seemed to have been in a bit of a rush to get to where I was. Fortunately, the cab arrived and I rushed in before they reached me, and I quickly lowered my head so they wouldn't picture my teary eyes.

I didn't return home that day, as I said, I stayed at a hotel room.
My phone had constantly vibrated throughout the whole day. Most of the missed calls and text messages were from Michael, and there were a few from Lia and some from my Mom. My Dad sent me a text that he knew what happened and didn't want to be a part of it as he knew I was old enough to figure it out on my own, but he ended it with an unsure reaction about how he felt towards Michael's actions. What surprised me was the phone call from Hilary and Whitney, they both left a message saying that they would want to sort it out before things got worst and the media found out what happened behind closed doors.
It would've been a scandalous feed for the tabloids.

The following day, I returned home.
My eyes were puffy, red and I clearly had no sleep from the night before. My hair was a chaos, I wore clothes from the day before and I looked like a mess. I made sure there were no paparazzi around when I got out of the cab, and I rushed in the door so no one saw me go in. I slowly closed the door and looked around.
Michael was home, his shoes were there and the car keys were on the side table. There were pages of the magazine scattered all over the floor, it looked like he ripped it last night when he was alone. The house phone and his cellphone were both on the coffee table when I peeked into the living room. There were no signs of Michael though.
I took a seat on the sofa and pressed the palms of my hands on my face. I leaned back and tried not to cry again as I sat there contemplating.
It felt like Kenneth Blake all over again, when he left me for someone else in High School. I didn't want things to repeat, and I invested heavily on this relationship for it to work, I didn't want it to end on the same plate as how Kenneth and I ended. In fact, I didn't want to end it at all! I loved Michael, but I didn't tolerate infidelity.
I began to sniff at the thought. My eyes were dry, all the tears were gone, but I knew that I was crying again. I could hear my phone vibrate beside me and I took a peek to see who it was, because it couldn't have been Michael, he left his phone right in front of me.
It was his Mom.
It would've been rude of me not to answer. Heck, I guess I was already rude because I didn't answer Hilary and Whitney when they called. But I didn't want to do that to their Mom.
I lifted the phone and answered, "Hello...?"
"Anne!" Debbie Phelps nearly screamed through the phone. She sounded surprised that I answered the phone at all. "I tried to call Michael, but he didn't pick up, so I called Derek and he said he wasn't there. I called Bob and still no answer. I wanted to call you, but Hilary advised me not to. I heard what happened."
I didn't say anything. I couldn't say anything.
"I'm coming over tomorrow to help you two with this. But for now, I hope you two are okay. I don't want the two of you to go through this annoying scandal," She said with a motherly tone. "I contacted your Mother and she said that she planned to fly to Baltimore early in the morning too. We will sort this out. I think this is just a misunderstanding."
"I hope so," I whimpered before ending the call. I stared at the screen of my phone and it was of Michael and me when we took a goofy picture during our Valentine's Day date. I sniffed and tried my best to hold it in, but I began to cry. I covered my eyes and muttered, "I hope this is a misunderstanding."

Confrontation

The news spread to gossip television shows. They began talking, and there was a video that they found of Michael, Ryan and the two other women on three separate bars. Derek was present, but he only wrapped his arm around a woman because they were joking around. Lia's trust on Derek must've been regained because of that video, but there were other photos posted online that had the woman wrap her arms around Michael, and it was a bit too close for my comfort.
People still tried to contact me, but out of the need for isolation and disinterest of expressing my feelings, I turned my phone off. Since I arrived home, I hadn't seen Michael around. I was confused because his belongings were at home too. But when the time reached to nine in the evening, he arrived home, slightly soaked and tired. He smelled of chlorine and had clearly been at the Aquatic Club.
He didn't spot me because he went straight to the bathroom and I peeked from the spare bedroom to keep myself sane. It was an hour later that he entered the room with an apologetic look and asked, "How long have you been home?"
"Since this morning," I directly answered without giving eye contact. "Where have you been?" Though I knew where he might've gone.
"I went for a swim. I needed to cool down." He too answered directly and took a seat next to me on the floor. We both leaned against the bed at the same time and remained silent.
"I-" We both said at the same time.
"You go first," I insisted.
"I saw the video and the other photos. I received a long lecture from Mom and Hilary, and Whitney sent me a long text. Bob wanted me to sort out personal problems before I ever returned in the pool, because he didn't want me distracted. And then there's you, and I thought about what happened and tried so hard to remember everything that went on while I was in London, and I swear..." Michael paused. "I swear that nothing happened. Those girls, they went home with Ryan every night."
"I feel embarrassed. I feel like everyone thinks I'm a pushover girlfriend. That I'd allow you to do those things, but think about it, Michael, you told me a set of rules when we got serious. Do you remember them?" I finally turned to look at him.
"Of course I do."
"But how come they don't apply to you? Isn't that unfair on me?"
He shook his head. "Anne, I agreed on them as well as you did. Of course I follow them."
"Then what was up with this?" I lifted the photo of him and the girl. He snatched the piece of paper from my grasp and ripped it to shreds. He then curled them into a ball and threw it towards the rubbish bin. He grabbed onto my hand and said, "Tabloids are stirring this up so that they could have something to write about."
"But that doesn't explain what you did? Why can't you just tell me?" I pulled my hand away from him. And when I did, the promise ring around my middle finger slipped off and rolled away from us, towards the rubbish bin, though it stopped and landed flat halfway. We both fell quiet and stared at it.
Michael pushed himself up and went to it, and he lifted it from the ground and sat back down. He opened his palm and gestured for me to take it. But I pushed his fingers to curl to a fist and muttered, "I think you should hold onto it."
He was shocked. His eyes narrowed and he seemed hurt.
"I need a little time to think. Your Mom is coming tomorrow. Mine too, and they want to talk to us about what's going on right now," I revealed as I pushed myself to my feet. I prepared myself to walk away, but he wrapped his fingers around my wrist and stopped me. I turned to him as he said, "I'm sorry."
"What for, Michael?" I turned my head left and right. "I'm not even sure anymore."
"What are you saying?"
I tugged my wrist from his hold. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just saying that I need time to think. Because if you cheated on me, it's a major deal breaker between me and you," I threatened. "And as much as I love you, I wouldn't want to drag you down if you wanted other people. But you just needed to tell me in my face instead of using the tabloids."
"Anne, why don't you believe me?"
"Because I have trust issues," I responded like a bitch. I didn't know where it came from.
Michael stood up and seemed angry. He looked agitated but didn't want to show it as much as I showed my dislike towards him at that moment. He inhaled deeply and exhaled heavily before he shook his head and sat down on the bed.
"I'll sleep here tonight," He mumbled under his breath as he lay down.
"Goodnight," I replied and walked out.

I wanted to believe him. I really did, but there were times when people said they haven't committed infidelity and it turned out true. My Grandparents on my Mom's side divorced because my Grandfather slept with another woman, but what really tore them apart was because my Grandmother tried to get back at him by sleeping with his best friend. Both my Parents divorced just because they fell out of love for each other.
I didn't want to sound like them. And I clearly didn't want those things to happen to me.
If I was sure on wanting to spend my life with Michael, I didn't want the tension that grew between us to break us up.
In all honesty, I suddenly felt scared.
Why was I so insecure? What was happening between us?

I cried myself to sleep that night. I didn't know what suddenly went wrong.