Michael was helping Allison to the sofa, her arm around him for support. Both of them looked a bit disheveled, still in beach attire, which meant they had just arrived.
When they saw me, Michael’s gaze shifted away, and Allison looked momentarily caught off guard.
“Emma, I’m so sorry,” Allison began, her voice wobbly. “I fell and scraped my knee while we were out. Michael said—” She trailed off, looking to Michael for reassurance.
“Don’t make a scene, Emma,” Michael snapped, focusing on Allison’s injury and barking orders at the maids. It was as if I wasn’t even there.
“Don’t make a scene?” I pushed back, my voice tight. “You said you had work to do. Why are you with her?”
Michael sighed and just stared at me, clearly annoyed.
“Answer me, Michael!” I demanded, my teeth clenched.
“Come on, Emma,” he said dismissively. “I promised Allison first. We can always take Lily later. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?”
I felt my fingers clench into fists, the pain almost a relief from the anger boiling inside me. I was done with him treating us like we were nothing.