MAKEUP.

"Mom, I screwed up."

Michael says to his mother on his arrival from his outing with his friends.

"What did you do?"

She asks calmly.

"It's bad—so bad it might be irredeemable. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Out with it already, what did you do?"

Relaying the events of the day to her, he explains everything that happened, including calling his friends beforehand and telling them what to do. She listens patiently, nodding her head without comment, till he is done.

"So, let me get this straight: you called your friends to put up that act because you wanted her to break up with you?"

Nodding his head in shame,

"Yes, I did. I don't know what to do; I can't lose her."

"Why did you do that?"

"The sight of her cousin set me off and the threat she made after.  I just thought I'd get her to break up with me to save myself from the drama. I didn't want her to hate me for what transpired between me and her cousin.  I thought I could bear it, but now I know I can't. I know I hurt her deeply, but it seemed like the only option at the time. What was I even thinking?"

He asks rhetorically, running his fingers through his hair in distress.

"You really screwed up, for sure. There are better ways to handle this issue; running away from your problems never helps. Have you tried telling her the truth?"

"How can I, Mom? Tell her the truth: I slept with her cousin and released her nudes. She's going to think I am going to do the same to her. I can't tell her the truth."

"You realize not telling her the truth is what led you to this point?"

"I can't afford to tell her the truth; she's going to hate me."

"Perhaps if you had told her the truth at the start, she might have understood. The truth has no hiding place; sooner or later, it's going to come out."

"What do you suggest, Mother? You know what the most annoying part of the whole story is?"

"I can only advise you to tell her the truth and hope she forgives you. What's the most annoying part?"

Sliding his hand inside his suit pocket, he withdraws a small black jewelry box. He opens it and shows it to her.

"I already planned to propose to her at dinner. Just when I finally made up my mind, I couldn't. I wanted to treat her to the best day of her life before proposing to her at dinner, but I got scared of her cousin and couldn't. I am such a coward."

He  groans.

Taking his hand in hers, she rubs his palm gently.

"I admire you for making one of the best decisions of your life. You have to understand that her cousin is inconsequential; you made a mistake and you owned up to it. I am almost sure she would forgive you if you told her the truth. You have to muster the courage to tell her."

"I can't, mom; I really can't."

"Being a good man to her doesn't mean you haven't made mistakes; it just means you have and are willing to make amends."

Sighing in frustration, he stands resolutely with determination written all over his face.

"You are right, Mom; I will tell her tomorrow."

"That's my boy; I know I didn't raise you to be a coward."

She smiles proudly at him.

"You better head to bed then; it's late."

"You go on, Mom; there's something I have to do before bed. He says he is taking the seat he previously vacated.

"Alright, son. Good night then."

"Good night, Mom."

Standing up to her feet, she makes her way up the stairs to her room.

He takes out his phone from his pocket with a determined look on his face, scrolling through his contacts. He finally comes across the contact he's looking for, Lara and he dials her number. She picks up the call almost immediately.

"I see you have finally come back to your senses. You did the right thing by breaking up with her. It's been a long time coming. Poor baby has been crying her eyes out."

Gritting his teeth,

"I didn't call you to discuss Camille; I called you to discuss us."

"I would gladly discuss anything that has to do with us. Shoot."

"I just wanted you to know that I am ready to confess the truth about everything that transpired between us to Camille. I have decided to propose to her, and I don't want there to be any secrets between us. You can lay off the threats now; I am telling her myself."

Shocked into silence, obviously not expecting what he said, she takes several breaths.

"Are you still there, Lara?"

He asks.

"Yes, I am here. It's good you want to propose to her, and I am cool with it. I have something to discuss with you before you tell her. Can we see in person?"

"I have no interest whatsoever in seeing you without Camille being present."

"I understand you have every right to be like that considering everything I have done. It's just important that we decide how best to tell her without breaking her heart. Wouldn't you agree?"

Conceding within himself that she has a point,

"I guess so. When do you want us to meet?"

"How about dinner tomorrow? It's the weekend already, so it's best if we meet to talk at length. I assume you can make the time for that."

"Okay, then, cool. What time and where?"

"Is 8 convenient for you? We can meet wherever you choose."

"Okay fine. I would text the address to you, and you can come to meet me there."

"Perfect. See you tomorrow then, and congratulations in advance on the big step you are about to take. I hope she says yes."

"Yes, thank you."

He ends the call, sighing in relief. That is settled; the next step now is convincing Camille to give him another chance. That's a task for tomorrow. He thought to himself as he made his way up the stairs to his bedroom.

THE NEXT DAY.

Michael walks timidly to Camille's doorstep after parking his car. His heart beating nervously in his chest, he knocks on the door and waits for her to answer.

"Who's there?"

She calls out from the house.

Summoning the courage he did not feel, he swallows hard.

"It's Michael."

The atmosphere becomes silent. It seems like ages have passed before she responds.

"Give me a minute; I am coming."

He soon hears the key to the door turning from within as she opens the door, the key to the car he got for her in her hand. He takes in her disheveled form, eyes red and puffy from too much crying, hair roughed up and scattered in different directions; even her nightwear had traces of mucus and mascara on it as she used it to wipe her face. Not at all concerned by her dirty look, she raises the car key up to him.

"I assume you are here for this."

"No, I am not; it's a gift. Can I come in?"

She regards him for a long time in silence before nodding her head curtly to usher him in.

"I guess."

Surprised by her response, he hesitates for a minute, watching her face for signs before stepping into the house.

Following closely behind him as she closes the door,

"You can have your seat."

"Are you sure it's okay? I know you must be very angry with me."

"It is okay. That we broke up doesn't mean we can't be civil towards each other. What do you want?"

Moving to the couch to take his seat,

"I came to apologize for the way I acted toward you yesterday."

He drops the car key on the table and takes the seat directly opposite her,

"You have nothing to apologize for; if anything, I should thank you for being yourself. You made it clear what kind of person you are to me; you shouldn't apologize for anything."

"No, that's not who I am, at least not anymore. I am sorry; I shouldn't have done what I did. I love you, I swear it."

Pointing a shaky finger at him,

"You do not get to say that. You made me look stupid; you made Lara tell me, "I told you so." And yeah, she did tell me you were going to do just that. So, you do not get to tell me you love me after portraying me as a mere sex object to your friends."

Her voice breaks,

"I thought I knew you even though we haven't been dating for that long; I felt I knew what you were capable of."

She drops her hand to her side,

"Turns out the joke is on me."

It broke his heart to see her that way, knowing he was the cause of her hurt. Shifting closer to her, his knees touching hers,

"You do know me, Camille, more than anyone else. I would never portray you as a sex object to anyone. Trust me."

"And yet, you did just that. It's all good, really; at least now I get to focus on what lies ahead. What do you want, if not the car? By the way, you are going to have to take it along with you because I don't want it."

"I told you already, I am not here for the car; I am here because I wanted to talk to you."

Wearing a somber look,

"How do you feel?"

"Why should you care how I feel? You are not my boyfriend anymore, remember? You still haven't told me why you are here. I intend to sleep today being the weekend, so the clock is ticking. I ask you again, What do you want?"

"I came to talk to you."

"What about? I believe we have said all that needed to be said yesterday."

"Don't be like that, Camille; don't be. I was stupid, I was in a tight spot, and I thought breaking up with you was the best thing I could do under the circumstances. I deeply regret it now. I am sorry. I would be nothing without you."

Staring idly at him,

"I didn't know I made you feel like you were in a tight spot; if I had, I would have made amends. Why didn't you tell me? That still doesn't excuse what you made me go through in your hands and that of your friends. If you wanted to break up with me, you could have done that without making me feel worthless."

Sniffling, she wipes her face with her palm before the embarrassing tears that were threatening to fall could make their way down.

He hated himself for doing that to her. Curse the fates that made him come across Lara. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he presses it to her palm.

She accepts it in silence, nodding her thanks.

"Everything that happened had nothing to do with you at all; you didn't make me feel like I was in a tight spot; it was something entirely different. I guess I better confess what happened yesterday with my friends."

shaking his head,

"That's not how they felt about you; I put them up to it because I was scared of your reaction when you found out the ugly truth about me. I didn't want to hurt you; it was never my intention, Lord knows. You can't possibly hate me more than I hate myself right now."

Staring at him in disbelief, she scoffs.

"How can you be scared of the way I would react if I found out whatever it is you are hiding? I am not that shallow. I would never react negatively to anything you tell me. I thought you knew that I accepted you as a whole package when we started."

She starts ticking off her fingers.

"The good, the bad, and the ugly. Obviously, you didn't understand that."

"I was really scared; I was afraid that you would resent me when you found out. I am a world-class fool; I had the best woman in the world, and I locked her out myself. Can you forgive me, Camille? Can we return to the way we were before?"

He asks her, hopefully.

"Fool me once; shame on you; fool me twice; then it's shame on me. We are over, Michael. You didn't love me enough to trust me? How can we ever go back to the way we were before if you are going to be that way?"

"Look, it's obvious I have been a jerk; just please give me one more chance; consider it the last one. Please, baby."

"I can't trust you anymore; how am I supposed to with everything you have done?"

"I know I have betrayed the trust you had in me, but please find it within you to forgive me again. I know I have made you cry, but it was never my intention. Give me one last chance to replace those tears with smiles. I beg you, please."

Fighting hard within herself to appear unmoved despite feeling exactly so,

"I gave you a chance already, and you misused it. I can't be made to look like a fool a second time."

"I am not leaving until you forgive me. I am not leaving until you take me back."

He says, leaning back on the couch and resting his feet up on the table in the comfortable position of someone who intends to stay for very long.

"I am afraid you are going to wait for a long time."

Getting up to her feet, she turns to head into the room.

"Lock the door behind you when you decide to leave."

He jumps up to his feet upon realizing she intends to go to the bedroom and leave him there. He quickly stands in front of her to block her exit.

"Hold on, please; I need to show you something."

"What?"

She asks, her face showing a faint glint of interest.

Sighing,

"I thought this could wait till tomorrow, when I would be able to tell you the truth, but it can't."

"What is it?"

She asks again impatiently, her arms akimbo.

"I guess I would have to do this now and tell you what I have to."

Dipping his hand into his pocket, he takes out the box of ring, opening it to expose the pear-shaped, glinting diamond ring housed inside.

Her eyes appear to bulge out of their sockets at the beautiful sight of the ring as she watches him get down on his knees.

"I know I am stupid, selfish, proud, and many other things, but with you, I get to be the man I have always wanted to be. You complete me, and I sure as well wouldn't let you walk out of my life if I could help it. I would fight hard to keep us together."

Swllowing hard, he continues.

"This was the main reason why I wanted us to have dinner yesterday, but I grew cold feet because I was scared. I don't mind baring my whole self to you now if you would have me. Would you do me the pleasure of making me the most fulfilled man on earth by being my wife? Please don't say no."

He looks expectantly at her, waiting for a response.

Feeling overcome with joy,

"You are going to be the death of me, Michael."

"And you are mine, babe."

"On one condition, you are going to tell me the truth about whatever you are hiding."

Nodding eagerly,

"I promise, I will."

"I also have a little confession myself."

"What is it?"

Smiling coyly at him,

"I hate your friends already."

He looks into her eyes, and they both burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"I totally understand, but you have to understand; I put them up to it. Are you going to leave me on my knees all day?"

"Yes, Michael I would marry you."

Stretching her left hand to him, he slides the ring on her delicate finger. Getting up to his feet, he sweeps her off her feet and kisses her hotly.

"Thank you, babe. I gotta post this on all my social media accounts. Let me take a picture of that."

He sets her down and takes a picture of the ring sitting pretty on her finger, proceeding to post it on all his social media accounts with the caption, "She said yes, guys, I am taken."

"You have just given the tabloids something to feed on for the weekend."

"Who cares? I love you, and that's all that matters. Now, we need to get you out of that dirty dress and straight into the shower."

"Not so fast; I believe you had something to tell me."

Yes, I do, but you have to wait till tomorrow. I have an appointment later today, and I promise you I will tell you everything you need to know tomorrow."

A look of doubt fleets across her face.

"Are you sure?"

"Don't look at me like that; I am totally sure. I would never do anything to jeopardize us ever again."

Reassured by his words, she nods.

He lifts her off her feet without warning, carrying her straight into the shower, where he undresses her and makes sweet, wild, passionate love for her for a long time.