Mikhail was still trying to make sense of it when his thoughts were interrupted.
—“He waited for you until midnight,” Sandrine said from behind him, leaning against the door with her arms crossed.
Mikhail didn’t turn around and continued studying his son’s sketch.
—“He was exhausted,” she went on. But he refused to go to bed, convinced that you’d come home so we could share his birthday cake together, until he finally collapsed at the table from exhaustion. He had some big news to tell you… as did I.”
—“It’s fine, Sandrine. No need to rub it in. Today is Saturday, so I’ll have a chance to make it up to him by taking him to an amusement park for some fun and ice cream.”
—“And like magic, everything will be forgotten thanks to ‘Mickey Mouse’ and a vanilla cone, right?”
—“Well, well! It’s been a long time since I’ve heard even a hint of sarcasm from you.”
—“Why do you treat us this way, Mikha?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What did we do to deserve such humiliation?”
—“Don’t mix things up, please. And keep Tony out of this!”
He brushed past her and walked down the stairs toward the living room. Sandrine followed him.
—“If you don’t want this relationship anymore, why not just tell me?”
—“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
—“Then what’s going on, Mikha? Am I the problem? Is my skin suddenly too pale for you? Do my freckles no longer suit your taste?”
He stared at their wedding portrait on the mantel. She moved closer and grabbed his arm.
—“You’re not this unfaithful husband, Mikha. I know you can change, my love. I pray for you to change!”
—“Change? You want me to change? You… pray for me to change?” he shouted. He knocked over a vase of lilacs, which shattered on the carpet with a dull sound.
—“You hypocrite! You’re the one who changed! Look at yourself! I don’t even recognize you anymore. Where is my wife? Where is the Sandrine I married eight years ago? Can you tell me?”
He shook her by the shoulders.
—“What have you done with her?” he shouted. “I want my wife, the one who enjoyed life, dancing all night at clubs on weekends. I want my feisty, intelligent, rebellious, and bold wife who used to turn heads and laugh about it.”
—“Stop it! You’re hurting me.”
—“Between the two of us, I’m not sure who’s in more pain,” he said, loosening his grip.
—“What nerve! For someone who had an affair on his wedding anniversary, it’s pretty bold of you to say that.”
—“Well, it’s your fault, my little Sandy. All of this is your fault,” he said, wiping his forehead. “You pushed me to seek comfort elsewhere. You made me who I am now.”
—“Don’t say that, Mikhail. Don’t blame me, please!”
—“Relax! Let’s just forget all of this! It was a mistake, and it won’t happen again,” he said, trying to defuse the conversation.
—“He takes me for a fool on top of it. Lord, help me! I beg you, help me…”
—“‘Lord, help me!’” he mocked. “It’s things like that that make me want to stay away from this house!”
She ignored his comments and began picking up the broken pieces of the vase scattered on the floor.
—“Tony had a bad dream earlier and woke up crying,” she said.
Mikhail sank into the corner of the sofa.
—“He was on a boat,” she continued. “And the sea was very rough.

An earthquake struck, and everyone left on land, including you, was in great danger. As the boat started to drift away, you waved goodbye. He cried because you weren’t on the boat with him. Others around you suddenly dove into the water, swimming to the boat to climb aboard. He realized then that you could do the same since you’re an excellent swimmer. But you stayed. Suddenly, the ship sped up, and he could no longer see you, to the point that he wanted to jump off the boat to join you. The dream upset him deeply. It took him over twenty minutes to fall back asleep.”
—“It was only a child’s imagination. And you? You weren’t there in his dream, were you?” he asked, intrigued.
—“Yes,” she replied softly. “I was on the boat with him.”
Mikhail’s eyes flared. He rose slowly like a lion ready to pounce on its prey.
—“What is all this nonsense? Is that the big news Tony and you wanted to share with me, Sandrine? Are you turning my son against me? What’s your plan exactly?”
He approached her, fists clenched.
—“Do you intend to take my son somewhere? Answer me! Where do you plan on fleeing? Think you can leave me? Believe me, I’ll find you wherever you go! You hear me?!”
Sandrine, frightened, dropped the broken pieces she’d collected and backed up against the mantel.
—“Please, calm down,” she said gently.
He stood in front of her, increasingly menacing. Suddenly, he burst into a nervous laugh.
—“You wouldn’t be crazy enough to do something like that, would you?”
He invited her to sit beside him.
—“I know. You’re a bit shaken by tonight’s events. That’s normal, and I understand, I assure you. Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll turn the page and move forward, okay? Let’s say I’m sorry. Don’t you all say in your prayers, ‘Forgive me my offenses as I forgive those whom I will offend’…?” he mocked.
Sandrine ignored his sneers and looked down.
—“I’m not sure I can take much more of this, Mikhail. I’m exhausted.”
—“Of course you can,” he replied with an air of indifference. “In fact, I’ll even give you permission to go back to your ‘chapel.’ Go ask your ‘imaginary friend’ for help, then be ready for tonight. We have an important meeting. Tonight could signal the crowning moment of my career.”
—“I no longer want this life. I’ve had enough.”
—“I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
—“Sometimes I wonder if you married me for love or personal gain. All you care about is your career. What matters to you are strategic connections, appearances, and the rest. And as usual, you want me to look perfect by your side, like the ‘perfect couple,’ Mr. and Mrs. Pons?”
He headed toward the stairs without responding to his wife’s words.
—“I’ll give you the meeting details shortly. I’m going upstairs to shower and get some rest. I’m… exhausted.”
Sandrine watched her husband, tears filling her eyes, as he climbed the stairs to their room. She then retreated to her prayer room and knelt heavily on the thick carpet. Looking up, she let a spontaneous prayer escape.
—“My God, if you don’t intervene, I don’t think I can last another twenty-four hours. Should I go or stay? I need your help… and so does Mikhail!”

She lay down on the thick rug and closed her eyes, overcome by the fatigue of a long day…

This text is an excerpt from the book THEY ARE GONE, written by Teddy NGBANDA.

We invite you to read the following article: “The Mysterious Disappearance: Between Suspicion and Revelation.”

A Marriage in Peril. A Marriage in Peril. A Marriage in Peril. A Marriage in Peril. A Marriage in Peril.