Page 58 of Shameless
The truth was I was lost and alone. All I had was Michael and the lies we’d built, but that wasn’t enough.
Chapter Twenty
Michael
* * *
Last night, Britney let me stay but refused to talk about anything. She’d clearly been thinking half the night.
After she finally got to sleep, I refused to wake her. She needed to be protected.
And the time had come for me to take control. So when I woke up, I called a meeting of the minds.
Time to set my sister straight and let my parents and our legal teams know that everything was set in stone. My voice would be steady from then on.
When Britney came downstairs in sleep pants and a T- shirt, I stood and asked, “Are you up for breakfast with my parents?”
Her eyes widened, but she nodded and tugged on her shirt. “Of course. I need five minutes.”
Perfect. Our unborn child needed to be protected from any more drama from my family, which meant I needed to get everyone in line.
She came out in a paisley-print chiffon maxi dress with a black underdress.
We headed to the car, and minutes later, we walked up the steps to the entailed London house.
As we headed to the dining room, Britney clutched my arm and said, “Bernadette?”
I tensed, not having expected my sister there. My parents were sitting with her at the dining room table, set for five.
I held Britney’s side and said, “You are unexpected. We’re having a family sit-down as you upset my wife last night, sister.”
My sister let out a small laugh. “Your wife?”
My parents looked down into their tea cups.
I held Britney’s chair for her to sit. “Yes, she is legally my wife and future mother of my child, and no matter what you threaten, these are facts that won’t change anything.”
She cocked her eyebrow, raised her tea glass, and asked, “Are you sure?”
My mother’s face pinkened, and my father coughed.
Britney tapped the table. “Would you like my doctor’s number so you can go steal his medical files?”
Bernadette pressed a hand to her heart. “I don’t have to steal anything.”
Britney sat back and shook her head. “Right, you can just email someone who does your dirty work for you.”
Bernadette stood. “I don’t have to be here.”
“Sit down,” my mother said.
For the first time in my life, both my mother and sister acted like they needed to hear my words.
Bernadette fluttered as she sat. “Mother?—”
“The marriage is legal whether you approve or not.” My mother said.
My father quickly added, “Your brother is here, and he has something he intends to tell us.”
