CHAPTER 15

 Chapter 15

 

Lisa buried her face into his chest, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably as Michael held her close, running one hand up and down her back, trying to keep himself together enough to be able to calm her down too.

They were in the middle of an empty hospital hallway,  just the two of them, the echo of her muffled sobs mixing with the harsh hum of the fluorescent lights overhead and Michael held her tighter, brushing a kiss against her hair, desperately wanting to pull her away from yet another nightmare she had been through.

He hadn’t gotten the full story yet, just bits and pieces from her choked-out call: she had mentioned an attack, something had gone down with that fucking creep breaking into her house again, and Matt, the guy she had been seeing before, was hurt — shot in the stomach and the left shoulder.

When Lisa had called Michael earlier, she had been too distraught to get all the details out clearly, but Michael had pieced together enough to know it was bad… Really bad…. He had left the kids with the nannies at Neverland and immediately drove back to the city as fast as he could just to be with her…

“Hey, hey… Lise… just breathe, okay? I’m here now… you’re okay.” He stroked her back, slowing his hand to keep her steady, feeling her trying to catch her breath as her sobs came in broken, quiet bursts. “You’re safe, baby.”

“It’s… it’s all my fault, Michael.” She whispered, her words muffled as she clung to him tighter, like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart. “Ben forgot to … to lock… the door… I… I should have checked… If I’d been more… more… careful…”

“Shhh, stop. This is not on you.” He pulled away just enough to look her in the eye, needing her to see that he meant it, that there was no way he would let her keep blaming herself for something totally out of her control. “It’s not your fault, Lisa.”

Her face was blotchy from crying, her eyes wide, still filled with that haunted look and she gave a shaky nod, though he could tell she wasn’t convinced.

“Come on, let’s sit down.” Michael said gently, guiding her to one of the chairs against the wall and she sank into it, curling into herself as he walked over to the water fountain, pulled out a cheap plastic cup and filled it before walking back to her and pressing it into her hands.

“Here, drink. Just a little.”

Lisa took a sip, her eyes shutting as if even that small act took too much effort. Once she looked a bit steadier, he knelt down in front of her, his hands holding hers tightly, his eyes looking up at her.

“Okay, Lise.” He started, keeping his tone soft. “Can you tell me what really went down?”

She took a deep breath, looking past him, her lower lip trembling and it took her several long minutes before she finally started speaking.

“Matt… he came over to…to talk, you know, just to… clear the air about… about everything, and he went upstairs when…” She closed her eyes, as if she wanted to erase the memory from her mind. “The police think… think that the guy was hiding in my room…again… with my gun…”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and Michael’s heart sank. He squeezed her hand tight. He knew Lisa kept an old Colt revolver tucked away in her nightstand — a classic, heavy thing that looked like it could have been handed down from her grandfather, but she had actually bought it at some quirky antique shop on a whim.

The thing was scratched up, a little rusty even, but it still fired and Michael knew Lisa liked knowing it was there, loaded and ready, just in case. Not that she was paranoid, but when you lived out where she did, rattlesnakes or the odd coyote could make their way into the house and it gave her peace of mind to know there was something to grab if things got dicey.

“What did he do?” Michael mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as she sobbed again, clinging to his hands, her fingers cold and trembling.

“The police think he... he shot Matt when he came upstairs… like, maybe there was a struggle. I don’t know, I couldn’t hear. But then… God… then he must’ve freaked out or something, realized what… what he had done, and tried to climb out my window. They said… they think he… might’ve slipped or lost his grip… and, he… he broke his neck on… on the way down.”

Michael’s stomach twisted and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Oh god… Lisa…” He let out, immediately wrapping her in his arms again, pulling her tight against him, his lips pressing to her forehead. He felt her gripping his shirt and kissed her hair, his fingers sliding through it, feeling the cold of her fingertips against his skin as she squeezed his arms.

Then, good fifteen or so minutes later, as Lisa was still wrapped in his arms, soft footsteps approached, and Michael looked up just as a surgeon stepped out of the double doors at the end of the hall. Lisa stiffened, snapping upright, and Michael stood with her, his arm wrapped protectively around her as the doctor walked over, his expression hauntingly serious.

“Ms. Presley?” He asked, and she nodded, her hand shaking as she clutched Michael’s arm. “The surgery… went as well as we could’ve hoped under the circumstances. Mr. Lewis lost a lot of blood, but he’s stable now.”

Michael heard Lisa release a breath, her eyes glimmering with something that looked like a faint spark of hope and he squeezed her shoulder gently.

“See? He’s a fighter.”

But the doctor’s face was still somber, and Michael braced himself for the next words when he looked at him again.

“There is… one complication.” The doctor continued, his tone careful. “The bullet grazed his spine, and while it’s too early to say anything definitive, there’s a chance he may experience some limited mobility. We’ll monitor him closely, but there’s a real possibility he may not regain full use of his legs. We will need some consent for various procedures, unfortunately, as you’re not his next of kin, I can’t give you any more details and we will have to wait for his family to fly in.”

Michael barely caught her in time as Lisa’s knees buckled, his arms wrapping around her trying to hold her up as she pressed her hand to her mouth, gasping.

“No… no! He’s a football player! He needs to walk… he has to…you can’t just! He has to walk!”

Michael didn’t have words — nothing he could say would make it easier, so he just stood there with her, rubbing her back, grounding her as best as he could before the doctor excused himself and left.

“This is all my fault, Michael…  I told him, I told him not to go there… If I hadn’t…” She started crying again and shook her head, her words muffled and broken…

 

 

Michael leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms as he watched Lisa staring down the hallway where the doctor had disappeared about ten minutes ago.

“Lisa, c’mon, let’s go. It’s late, and you need to get some rest.” He said, his tone soft but still firm. She had been there for hours, and she really looked like she was running on empty now but without even sparing him a glance, Lisa shook her head.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She murmured, hugging herself tighter and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, taking a deep breath, trying to keep calm.

“Baby, you’ve been up all night. And I gotta get back too… the kids are waiting on me.” His voice dropped on the last part and he walked over to her, lightly touching her arm though Lisa barely reacted.

Finally, when she looked at him, her eyes were bloodshot and stubborn as hell.

“Then go, Michael. I’ll be fine. I’m not leaving.”

He clenched his jaw, trying to keep his frustration in check. He understood she was worried but this wasn’t helping anyone, least of all her.

“Lisa, come on. He’s out of surgery, and they said he’s gonna be alright. You don’t need to be here now, really.”

“Not alright! Didn’t you hear the doctor?? They don’t know anything yet!” She turned to him and shot him a bitter look, her voice cracking. “I can’t just leave him!”

“Right, but staying here like this, beating yourself up over it? How’s that gonna help anyone?” He tried to keep his voice even, but his patience was hanging by a thread now and it was killing him to watch her dig her heels in, too stubborn to see that she was doing more harm to herself than good.

“It… It happened because of me, Michael! Don’t you get that?” Her voice was shaky but sharp and he exhaled, fighting back the urge to snap at her.

She had always had this way of shouldering all the blame, like she could single-handedly control everything around her but right now it was his job to take care of her and he was hell-bent on doing just that.

“Lise… that’s not fair, and you know it.” He stepped closer again, talking softly, trying to get her to see reason. “You’re dead on your feet. Just… come back to the ranch with me, alright? Shower, sleep, get something to eat — just a few hours, and I’ll drive you back here first thing in the morning when I take the kids to Hayvenhurst. I swear.”

Lisa’s gaze went distant once again, like he wasn’t even standing there, her eyes drifting back to the end of that damn hallway.

“I can’t, Michael… what if he wakes up and I’m gone?” She stepped back, shrinking away from him. “He’s got no one here, and I just… I can’t leave him alone, not… not after everything.”

Michael cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair just to release some of the built-up tension.

“Lisa, come on… and what if he doesn’t wake up tonight? What’re you gonna do? Sit here and stare at him? He needs rest, and so do you.”

She looked down at the floor, biting her lip. For a second, he thought he might have finally broken through, but then he saw her shaking her head again, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“Just go, Michael. I’m gonna be okay.”

“I don’t wanna leave you here, alright? And I sure as hell don’t want you sitting here blaming yourself all night!”

She looked up at him, her eyes sad…

“Leave, please… Michael.” Her voice softened, almost a plea. “Go back to your kids. I… I’ll call you.”

He took another step back, narrowing his eyes at her… He knew pushing her now would only drive her further into that shell and she would dig her heels in and shut him out entirely. Michael didn’t want that.

“Fine.” He muttered. “But I’m coming back here first thing in the morning, and you’re coming home with me after that. Deal? This is our week, baby and I just want to take care of you.”

He watched as she nodded, barely acknowledging him, her mind lost somewhere he couldn’t really reach.

“Alright.” He sighed again. “You call me if anything happens, okay? Is your phone charged?”

When she gave a slight nod, he moved closer to her, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips, slow and gentle but as they pulled apart, he could see her mind was already a million miles away.

“Do you need anything, Lise? You got some money on you?”

“No, yes… Thank you. I’m… I’m good.” She mumbled, making absolutely zero sense, her tone distant, polite, like he was just a stranger passing by.

Michael sighed and nodded, swallowing the urge to say something more and instead, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, his hand sliding around her shoulders as he pulled her into a tight, messy hug.

“I love you.” He murmured against her hair, his voice low but fierce, like he needed her to know it down to her bones. “So much, okay?”

When he finally turned and forced himself to walk toward the elevators, his chest felt tight. At the end of the hall, he glanced back again, his gaze drifting to where she now sat slumped in one of those stiff plastic chairs, staring blankly at the wall in front of her. She looked so heartbreakingly lost and the sight gutted him, hating having to leave her there all alone…

 

 

As his car pulled away, Michael’s eyes stayed glued to the side mirror, watching the hospital grow smaller until it vanished around the corner and his fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against the armrest, his mind circling back over the last hour, picking at every detail.

He looked out the window, watching the city pass by in a blur, and rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the exhaustion hit him in waves.

Michael knew his kids were waiting for him, but he still couldn’t keep his mind from wandering back to Lisa wondering how to fix things, how to make it all right.

With a sigh, he fished his phone out of his pocket, fingers feeling clumsy and stiff. There had to be a way to push Bahrain back, even if just by a few days. Suddenly, the whole trip felt impossible... the timing was all wrong and he needed a little more space to figure everything out…

He listened to the phone ring a few times before John, one of the producers, picked up, his voice all polished and businesslike, as usual, even though it was now nearly ten o’clock on Sunday night.

“Michael, hello. How can I help you?”

“Hey, John. Listen, I… I need to push Bahrain.” Michael began, jumping straight into it, fighting to keep his tone steady. “There was an accident, at Lisa’s house… and… and I can’t just leave her. I need to stay, at least for another week. Can we push the flight back?”

There was a pause on the other end, then a sigh — half sympathetic, half impatient, like he couldn’t decide how much he actually cared.

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s not hurt or…” Michael started to explain, but before he could get any further, John cut him off, his voice snapping back to its usual sharpness.

“Then what’s the problem, Michael?” John asked, not giving him even a second to respond. “Look, you’re fine, she’s fine. We’ve got contracts, real money on the line here, and we both know you can’t afford to blow this off. So no… we’re not pushing back anything.”

“John, just listen to me for a second!” Michael said, feeling the frustration rising in his chest. "You don’t get it! I can’t focus on any of this with what’s going on in my life right now."

“Oh, please.” John scoffed. “You think all the folks involved in this give a crap about what’s happening in your personal life? They don’t! You signed on for this, and last I checked, you’re not exactly swimming in options so I guess you’ll have to bite the bullet and roll with the punches, my dear.”

Michael gritted his teeth at the sarcasm in John’s  voice, his grip on the phone tightening.

“I know what I signed, but this… I’m telling you, I can’t just walk away right now. Lisa needs me here!”

“And you think I’m supposed to care? Guess what, Michael, your sob stories don’t pay the bills…” John sneered, his tone turning icier and more cutting. “Maybe you need to realize where you stand now. You can’t really afford to act like you’re calling the shots… not anymore. That ship has sailed, and now you’re here to dance as we tell you. Simple as that. Deal with it.”

Michael felt a burst of anger shoot through him, a sharp, hot sensation in his chest.

“Right, because throwing me under a bus is just another Sunday night for you, huh?”

“Oh, cry me a river…” John shot back, voice dripping with condescension as he cut Michael off again. “You want pity, go find someone who cares. I’m a producer, not your friend. I need you on that plane next week, or I swear to God, Michael, you’ll be buried in so much legal crap you won’t know which way’s up. And let’s be real, you can’t afford a good enough lawyer to dig you out of it right now.”

“So that’s it, huh?” Michael’s blood was boiling now, his pulse pounding in his ears. “Just money and contracts? That’s all I am to you?”

“That’s all you are to everyone who’s actually invested in you. Grow up. This is business, and you’re the product. We own your time now, so start acting like it and stop whining for once. No one cares anymore.”

Michael felt a slow, hot bile rising in his throat and an almost painful rush of frustration tightening in his chest as he realized, really realized, what his life had turned into.

He wasn’t calling the shots anymore. Not even close. Somewhere along the way, he had lost the reins and he wasn’t in control anymore, wasn’t the one making the final call on his own life or his own choices and he hated it — the uncertainty, the vulnerability, the helplessness…

He opened his mouth to argue, to tell John exactly what he thought of him, of the whole situation, but he stopped himself. Without another word, he yanked the phone away from his ear and ended the call, tossing it onto the seat next to him with more force than he had intended.

The whole thing felt like a sick joke, like he was a puppet with strings he couldn’t cut and he leaned back in his seat, eyes staring blankly ahead, fists clenched, his jaw aching from grinding his teeth…

 

 

Michael walked quietly into the darkened hallway, closing the front door behind him softly before he stepped softly up the stairs, pausing at each of his kids’ rooms. The light from the hall cast a dim glow as he walked in the first room and leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on Paris’ forehead, careful not to wake her, though she was out like light.

He stood by her bed, watching her small, peaceful face, breathing deeply as she lay there smiling in her sleep.

How could something so little carry such a huge piece of him? He remembered the day she was born as if it was  yesterday — standing in that delivery room, heart pounding, hands clammy, completely out of his depth but unable to look away.

He could still picture those impossibly small fingers curling around his thumb, her little cries filling the room, and how in that instant, his world had shifted completely.

Moving slowly across the hall, he then watched Prince, sprawled out across the bed like he had been dropped there, arms and legs splayed in every direction and Michael leaned in, kissing his forehead too.

Then his steps led him to the doorway to Blanket's room and there he was, curled up tight, clutching his favorite worn-out stuffed bear to his chest.

Michael leaned over, brushing a gentle kiss against his cheek as well, as he stood there for a second longer, watching him with a soft smile on his face.

He left their rooms, closing each door quietly, and walked down the stairs, making his way to his library, a space that had always been his retreat, his own corner of the world, now for one last time.

Michael dropped into the leather couch with a long sigh, the familiar worn cushions settling around him as he glanced around, taking in the shelves stacked with books, the fireplace and all the knick knacks scattered across the table.

He reached over to the decanter on the small table beside the couch, pouring himself a glass of whiskey, watching his blurred reflection in the amber liquid as he raised it to his lips. He took a long sip as memories of Neverland began to surface again — Janet showing up randomly for the weekend, making herself at home and taking over his studio, or Liz sitting with him late into the night, laughing and talking about everything and nothing at all.

And then there were the quiet times, too — like when he would be alone in the house, watching some old movie in his private theater, or those late-night rides on the Zipper, blasting classical music into the empty night just because he felt like it.

His mind drifted back to Lisa, to that first night she had come over, the memory clear and sharp, so vivid and still so amazing… They had been under that old oak tree out back, the one that had always seemed timeless, unwavering, and they had kissed there for the first time as the moonlight broke through the branches above them. That night had changed everything… his whole life. Lisa had changed his whole life…

He would never forget their first kiss and he would never forget how beautiful she looked or how her lips felt against his.

Michael finished his drink in one long swallow, setting the glass down with a sigh. But now it was time to let go. It was time for something new.

He would survive those two months in Bahrain no matter how much he hated the idea of going, especially after the phone call with John… But then he would come back and he and Lisa would start fresh, find a new place they could call home, untouched, something just for them. That was what he wanted… and that was what really mattered.

Pouring himself another drink, he thought about Lisa again, imagining how she was probably asleep in the hospital right now, slumped in one of those stiff chairs, unwilling to leave because she was stubborn like a fucking mule and another wave of guilt for having left her alone washed over him…

Michael shook his head, took his phone out of his pocket and dialed her number, determined to at least check on her.

Nothing.

He tried again, each ring stretching out and he started feeling nervous, slight worry creeping in, before he pushed it back.

She was fine.

Probably just asleep.

He would wait till morning, drop the kids off at Hayvenhurst, then he would head straight over to her and take her to the Hideout with him.

With a resigned sigh, Michael stood up, leaving the whiskey behind as he walked through the dim house, slipping quietly into his dance studio.

The air felt charged, the silence amplified, as he stepped onto the hardwood floors that had been his second home for years… He wanted one last dance there, one last time to let everything go, to clear himself of everything and to stop thinking as well as to move through the exhaustion, the memories and the goodbyes swirling inside him.

Michael closed his eyes, letting the music flood in, deep and rhythmic, pulsing through the quiet night.

He moved slowly at first, his feet picking up the beat, each motion loose and instinctual, his body shedding the weight of the past couple of hours, the tension releasing with every beat, every twist and turn.

The music pulsed through him, the feeling of the wood under his feet grounding him as he let it all go — the anger, the pain, the worry — all dissolving as he moved, leaving nothing but raw energy in its wake.

He danced until he was breathless and sweaty, the last of the songs fading out, and for a moment, there was only silence… He collapsed on the floor breathing hard, a smile tugging at his lips…

 

 

As the sun started its lazy climb over the horizon, casting a warm glow over the sprawling valley, Michael stood outside the house, loading bags, suitcases, and stray toys into one of his SUVs, with his staff running around, helping.

He could hear the muffled sounds of excitement from the kids, their laughter and footsteps echoing around the driveway as they chased each other and he pulled open the trunk shoving in another duffel bag while balancing a stuffed animal that had lost one eye on a pile of mismatched shoes the kids had forgotten to pack.

Michael tossed a quick glance over his shoulder, watching his kids dash around the front yard, faces flushed, their voices a cheerful contrast to the still, quiet landscape. The morning was crisp but sunny, the air dry and tinged with the faint scent of pine and dust, all under a sky so big and blue it looked endless.

Just as he was reaching for the next suitcase, Prince came running over, his face full of that serious determination he always got when he was about to ask for something big.

“Daddy, can we go play in the Teepee Village one last time? Pleeease?”

“Sure thing, go ahead.”  Michael chuckled, ruffling his hair. “But don’t be too long. I want to leave soon, okay?”

With a whoop, Prince dashed back to his siblings and the three of them ran away, laughter trailing behind them. Michael shook his head, grinning as he watched them go, then turned back to the pile of bags that somehow seemed to grow every time he looked away.

After giving his staff a few more instructions about what still needed to be loaded, Michael stood back and took a last look at the house, his gaze sweeping over the gardens, the rolling hills behind it, and the oak trees that dotted the landscape. He sighed and walked through the large gardens, slowly winding his way down the familiar path toward the Teepee Village. He could hear the kids’ voices growing louder as he got closer, Blanket and Prince laughing as they darted in and out of the large canvas teepees, playing some game he didn’t really understand but that clearly had them both on edge, panting and racing around.

But then he took a glimpse of Paris sitting quietly at the edge of one of the teepees, her shoulders hunched, her gaze far away and Michael walked over, hands shoved deep in his pockets, before he lowered himself to sit beside her in the cool, dry dirt.

“Hey, peanut…” He mumbled, leaning close. “What’s on your mind?”

Paris glanced up at him, her little face serious.

“I’m sad, Daddy.”

Michael’s brow furrowed, a flicker of worry tightening in his chest.

“I thought you were excited about Bahrain, sweetheart. All those new places to see, a whole adventure waiting for us…”

But to his surprise, she shook her head slowly, letting out a soft sigh.

“Not so much anymore…” She shrugged, her fingers tracing a line in the dirt.

“Yeah?” He asked gently, keeping his voice low. “Wanna tell me why?”

She shrugged again, her little shoulders lifting, then falling.

“Will we ever come back here? To the ranch?” She asked, her voice so low he could barely hear her and Michael took a deep breath. He knew he could give her some comforting half-truth, tell her they would come back someday, but he had done that before, sugarcoating things to protect her which, in the end, came back to bite him in the ass and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

“Probably not, Paris.” He admitted softly, the words tasting bittersweet in his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

Paris’ face crumpled for a second, but she just nodded, biting her lip, looking down at her hands.

Then, after a pause, she looked up at him again, hesitant, her brow furrowed.

“Are we… are we gonna live with Lisa when we come back?”

He paused, watching her closely, feeling like he was treading on fragile ground.

“How would you feel about that?”

Paris looked away again, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater, before finally shrugging.

“I don’t know…” She mumbled. “She’s… alright, I guess.”

He saw her rolling her eyes in that way only a kid could, like it pained her to give even that much but there was a softness in her voice, a little spark of acceptance, and it made him smile. He pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tight, feeling her small arms wrap around him, too.

“Wherever we end up, we’re going to be together, all of us. That’s not going change. Ever. Okay?”

He could feel her nodding against him, and for a moment, everything felt just right.

A minute later, clearing his throat, he stood up and helped Paris to her feet, brushing the dust off her sweater.

“Alright!” He called out to the boys, who were still racing around the teepees. “Time to go! Grandma and Grandpa are waiting for us.”

 

 

A couple of hours later, when Michael’s SUV pulled up in front of UCLA Medical Center, his nerves were already stretched so tight they might as well have been strumming guitar strings.

He hadn’t been able to get hold of Lisa, not once since last night, and it was eating away at him in a way that no amount of reasoning could settle anymore.

He had been trying to reassure himself, telling himself that she was probably just exhausted,  or her phone probably dead, but it wasn’t really working for him anymore and he needed to see her. Now.

He watched as his security team jogged inside, moving fast to secure the floor she was at, a necessary precaution before he could walk inside, even if the hospital administrators didn’t exactly love the setup.

He saw Terrence talking to some of the hospital staff in front of the main entrance, brows furrowed as they tried to think of how to accommodate him without causing a major disruption to the hospital’s daily routine, but right now, he couldn’t care less if he annoyed every staff member in this place. He was going in there, end of story…

When Michael finally made it up to the right floor, he scanned the numbers on the doors as he moved down the hallway, his chest tightening with every step. And then, there it was — room 254.

He took a breath and slipped quietly inside, but froze at the sight. Matt lay there in the hospital bed, tubes and wires everywhere, hooked up to machines that beeped and hummed. He looked pale and completely still, sheets pulled up to his chest and Lisa was right by his side, sitting close, clutching his hand, her head leaned in as she whispered something Michael couldn’t make out.

It was like watching a ghost and Michael’s heart clenched, seeing her like that. He couldn’t really shake the tiny twist of jealousy that followed either, no matter how stupid he knew it was… Lisa looked up just then, catching sight of him in the doorway, and managed a faint, tired smile, but it was nothing like the smiles he was used to getting from her. This one was worn, almost forced, like she couldn’t care less that he was there, like he was just another person coming and going in and out of the room.

Michael swallowed hard and took a few steps forward looking at her again — her hair a tangled mess, face pale, dark circles under her eyes, her clothes rumpled.

He crossed the room quietly, and leaned down to kiss her, but Lisa turned her head at the last second, and his lips landed on her cheek instead.

That slight rejection, that little flinch felt like a slap in the face, sharp and unforgiving and his chest tightened, his mind spinning, wondering what just happened…

Ever so quietly Michael grabbed an empty chair, dragged it closer, and sat beside her, his eyes flicking between her face and her hand, which was still clutched tightly around Matt’s. He reached out rubbing her back gently, though she didn’t even flinch, didn’t react — like he wasn’t even there.

“How’s he doing?” He asked, keeping his voice low, and Lisa sighed, not looking up, her gaze still fixed on Matt.

“He’s… still in a coma.” She sounded drained, her voice barely more than a whisper. “No change. No news. The doctors won’t tell me anything until his parents get here.”

“I’m sorry. So sorry, Lise. But I’m here. I’m here for you, okay?” Michael murmured genuinely before he leaned in closer, wanting her to feel his presence, his support. “How are you doing, baby?”

She shrugged and that tiny little brush-off felt like a wall going up between them, brick by brick.

“I’m fine.” She whispered, but hell, she wasn’t fine… in fact she looked anything but fine.

“Lisa…” He wanted to take her in his arms and take her home with him, make her eat something and let her sleep in his arms. That was all he wanted at that moment. “Did you get some sleep at all? Or ate something?”

“I’m not tired, Michael. And I’m not hungry, either.” She replied, her tone clipped, brushing him off like he was just an inconvenience and he couldn’t help but let out a low growl of frustration.

“Come on, you can’t just sit here all day and night, running on empty. How can you be there for him if you don’t take care of yourself first?” He looked at her, trying the reverse psychology strategy as his fingers gently scratched her back.

“I said I’m fine!” She barked, finally looking at him, making him narrow his eyes at her.

What the hell was wrong with her?

There was that fire in her eyes he knew so well but right now, it was aimed right at him, and he felt confused, his patience slowly slipping away… He leaned in, his gaze locked on hers, still trying to keep his voice gentle.

“Lise, why don’t you come with me to the Hideout? Just for a few hours. You can get some rest, take a shower, eat something. Please… I can take you back here later if you want.”

He was hoping she would see reason, hoping she would understand where he was coming from, but she just looked at him, her jaw set, her eyes sharp, something in her face snapping.

“Would you stop it, for fuck’s sake?” She whispered angrily and Michael’s eyes widened, completely taken aback by her reaction. “I said I’m not leaving! Not until he wakes up!!”

“Lisa, I’m trying to respect your decision here, but come on…” He really had to try hard not to raise his voice at her now, frustrated by how irrational she was being in that moment. “We had plans, remember?"

“Yeah, Michael, I remember.” Lisa shot him an angry look, her eyes flashing with something cold. “But Matt’s family isn’t here yet. They’re flying in from Iowa, and until they get here, he doesn’t have anyone else. I’m not fucking leaving him alone! Period!”

Okay, that was it… Michael’s frustration boiled over, and he felt the anger rising, bubbling up from the pit of his stomach.

Unable to stop himself, he jumped up from the chair, throwing his hands in the air angrily before he started pacing, taking a few quick steps away and running a hand through his hair before he turned sharply to look at her again.

“So, what? You’re just gonna sit here, ignoring everything else? Ignoring me? Lisa, this is insane! You’ve been here all fucking night!”

“I’m not going to just walk out on him!!”

“You know what? Fine. Knock yourself out!” He was yelling now, his voice reverberating through the sterile quiet of the hospital room, bouncing off the walls. “If that’s what you want, then by all means, knock yourself out! Don’t let me, the afterthought, hold you back.”

“What the hell??! Do you know how selfish you’re being right now?!” Her voice rose, matching his now, the tension between them thick enough to choke on.

“You’re calling me selfish? Are you serious right now? I’m here because I love you, because I don’t want you running yourself into the ground for something you can’t control, but you have to be…”

He was screaming, hoping to knock some sense into her, but before he could finish his sentence, the door swung open and a nurse walked in, her eyes sharp and her arms crossed over her chest.

“Excuse me.” She said, her tone harsh as her gaze flicked between the two of them. “I’m not sure what’s going on here but I don’t really care… if you can’t control yourselves, then you both need to take this outside and fast. This is a hospital, not some boxing ring.” She gave them each a cold stare. “So unless you want me to call security or escort you out myself, keep it down, or leave.”

Michael immediately felt a sting of embarrassment rising, heat rushing to his face as he mumbled a quick apology while Lisa did the same, her eyes flicking to the floor. Then, silence settled between them once again, thick and uncomfortable, as the door closed and Michael stared at Lisa, his heart racing while she turned her back to him, clearly done talking to him…

He waited for any sign that she was going to say something, anything — but she just sat there, quiet.

“Are you coming with me or not?” He growled, making sure his voice was low and even.

“No… I told you that already.”

“Fine, whatever.” He shook his head angrily, and turned to go, then hesitated for a second, throwing one last look over his shoulder. “You know where to find me if you’re interested in seeing me at all.”

And with that, he walked out, the door swinging shut behind him, making his way through the darkened hall toward the elevators.

 

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Hey everyone! Just wanted to give a quick shout-out to my readers (all four of you 😂) – I really appreciate you being here, seriously!

I’ll be taking a little break because I’m heading out on vacation for about 3-4 weeks, I need to get out for a bit, so I won’t be able to post in that time. I do have a few more chapters more or less ready to go, but I’d like to take the time to edit and polish them a bit more. I’m mainly writing this fic for myself because it’s fun, helps me with my English, and… well, the traffic on my blog is kinda quiet, so I figure it’s not the end of the world if I pause for a bit.

Big thanks again, especially to those of you who took a moment to leave a review. It’s really sweet of you, and it means a lot! I’ll be back after my trip, some time before Christmas I think, haven’t booked the return ticket yet. Take care! 

🤍