CHAPTER 17
Chapter 17
Michael’s heels clicked with a steady rhythm on the
polished marble floor, back and forth, his phone pressed tight to his ear as it
rang and rang, again and again. No answer. He clenched his jaw, blowing a
frustrated breath through his nose, his fingers itching to slam his phone against
the wall, but instead, he tried once more.
Nothing.
“Mr. Jackson!” A voice called out from across the
terminal and Michael glanced up to see his assistant waving him over, hopping
up and down with impatience. “We’ve gotta go, sir! The crew’s ready, the kids
are on board…”
He barely nodded.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” He growled under his breath,
finally hanging up the phone. With a last exasperated look at the screen, he
switched it off entirely. After all, if she hadn’t bothered to answer after ten
tries, what was the point of keeping it on?
He pocketed the phone, took a deep breath, and started
walking toward the plane, the slap of his shoes echoing down the empty hall.
All the usual bustle of a commercial airport was
missing there — the private terminal was nearly silent, just a low hum of air
conditioning and the occasional buzz of a radio in the distance. Everything was
sleek, modern, and exclusive, but he couldn’t care less about anything like
that right now… He was in too foul a mood to even try to appreciate it.
A few minutes later, he climbed the short steps to his
private jet, stepping inside the plush cabin with barely a glance at anyone
around him.
The kids were already strapped into their seats, his
manager was shuffling through a stack of papers, cursing under his breath while
the two nannies were quietly trying to keep Blanket entertained knowing how
much he hated the take-offs.
The crew seemed busy doing their final checks, stowing
away bags, making sure everyone had a drink or a snack nearby and normally, he
would nod at them, maybe even chat a bit, but right now, he just really didn’t
give a shit. His mind was a thousand miles away, tangled up in thoughts of Lisa
and everything that had gone down between them the previous week.
Michael slid into his own seat, the smooth leather
cushioning him as he leaned back, glancing out the window before his gaze
flicked back to his phone, still off, and he fought the urge to turn it back on
and to try calling her one last time. It wouldn’t make a difference, though,
would it? She had seemed to make that clear enough…
He let his head fall back against the headrest,
replaying their last conversation in his mind. Or maybe “conversation” was too
generous a word for it...
After the night when she had come to see him, and
‘talk’, he hadn’t really heard from her for another two long days. Michael had
tried calling her a few times, but the truth was, he was so pissed at how
things had gone down between them — how she had rushed back to the hospital
like clockwork instead of staying and spending the night with him, instead of
even trying to work things out between them — that he wasn’t exactly going
crazy blowing up her phone anymore.
And a part of him wanted to see if she would actually
make the effort to reach out first, but of course, she didn’t.
Then, one night, as he sat on his couch with a
half-empty glass of whiskey, some dumb movie playing in the background, he
caved. He picked up his phone and called her, just for the hell of it, figuring
she wouldn’t answer anyway. But this time she did…
Michael was caught off guard, barely able to hide the
surprise in his voice as they stumbled through the usual pleasantries. He asked
how she was, and she asked him back, her tone polite and distant, like she was
talking to someone she barely knew. They touched on Matt, his progress with
physio, and a few other somewhat safe topics, but the whole thing felt off — strained
and weird, like a conversation with a stranger instead of her.
For once, Michael didn’t push. He didn’t bring up the
night she had left and didn’t ask her to come see him again before he flew out,
either. What was the point? She would just dodge it anyway, or worse, make some
half-assed promise she didn’t mean at all. Which, of course, she did. At the
end of the phone call she said something vague about seeing him before he left,
but deep down, he knew it wasn’t going to happen.
And, as expected, that promise turned out to be as
empty as it sounded. He hadn’t heard from Lisa since that call and now she
hadn’t even bothered to pick up the phone for a quick goodbye, a “take care,” or
a “call me when you land” — anything at all.
He looked around the jet cabin and sighed. He had
decided to rent a new plane for the trip and it really was luxury at its finest
— soft gray leather seats, each with enough space to stretch out fully, screens
at every corner, a fully stocked bar in the back, all trimmed with high-polish
accents, but Michael barely saw it…
He couldn’t shake the bitterness creeping up, like an
itch he just couldn’t scratch.
Everyone else seemed to be enjoying the setup, though.
Blanket, bundled in his seat, playing with a teddy bear, and Prince and Paris
wrapped up in some game, laughing and nudging each other in that way only
siblings did.
Michael’s manager, seated across the aisle, glanced up
and gave him a quick nod, but Michael just grunted in response, his mind
elsewhere.
Lisa, Lisa, Lisa.
Why couldn’t she just pick up the damn phone?
“Mr. Jackson?” A voice snapped him out of his thoughts
and he looked up to see a flight attendant standing by his seat, smiling at him.
“Your drink.” She said, handing it over and he took it without really looking
at her, bringing the can of Coke to his lips, already feeling the subtle tang
of red wine hidden inside, just the way he liked it.
It hit the spot, warming his chest a little as he took
another big sip. Michael glanced around, seeing everyone settled, the crew
finally strapped in as the jet engines roared to life, a smooth hum filling the
cabin. He closed his eyes for a second, feeling the slight vibration under his
feet as they started to taxi down the runway.
Michael hated flying. The whole thing — the cabin, the
endless hours in the air, and the unsettling thought of being miles above solid
ground — made his skin crawl. Sure, the drink helped, taking the edge off just
enough, but not nearly enough to make him forget where he was.
For that, he would have to get completely shitfaced,
and even he knew that wasn’t the best
idea when he was stuck in a metal tube with nowhere to escape and with his kids
and other people around.
And so he decided to try and sleep instead, though he
already knew how that would probably go.
Sleep wasn’t exactly his best friend on a good day,
and on a plane? Oh, forget about it. The noise, the weird pressure, the feeling
of being boxed in made shutting his brain off feel just about impossible but he
decided to try anyway.
He took one last gulp of the drink, savoring the
slight burn, then reached into his pocket, fingers closing around the familiar
shape of an orange bottle and with a quick glance around to make sure no one
was paying him any mind, he unscrewed the cap, popped two pills into his mouth,
and swallowed them dry.
Letting out a slow breath, he leaned back in his seat,
trying to relax, trying to let go of the mess that was his mind. He hoped the
pills would kick in soon enough, and maybe he would be able to get a break from
it all.
The engines roared louder as the jet took off, pushing
him back into his seat and Michael stared out the window, watching the city slowly
disappear, the clouds swallowing it up, taking him higher, further away from
everything, everyone… and from her.
He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of exhaustion
finally pulling at him. As the plane leveled out, he shifted in his seat,
trying to get comfortable, his thoughts still lingering stubbornly on Lisa.
That was the thing about her — she was in his head day in and day out, even
when she didn’t seem to want to be…
As Michael started to drift off, he felt himself
sinking into that hazy space between dreams and reality, where everything felt
just a little too bright, a little too soft, like he was watching his own life
through a foggy glass and before he knew it, he was somewhere else entirely…
The storm came out of nowhere, or maybe it had been
brewing for a while, and he just hadn’t noticed… The small boat rocked
violently under them, the waves pitching it up and down like some kind of cruel
carnival ride and yet, he just couldn’t take his eyes off her as she was
sitting on the edge of the boat, hair whipping around her face in the wind,
eyes fixed on the horizon like she was searching for something he couldn’t see…
“Hold on to something!” He shouted over the roar of
the wind while his voice cracked like it was breaking under the weight of the
words. Lisa didn’t answer.
“Hey!” He tried again, crawling across the slippery
deck toward her, water sloshing around his hands and knees. “Come on. You can’t
just sit there like nothing’s happening!”
She finally turned to look at him, her expression calm
in a way that made his stomach twist.
“What’s the point, Michael?” She said, her voice
almost lost in the chaos. “It’s already too far gone, anyway.”
“What are you talking about?” He let out loudly, his
heart pounding. “We’re not gonna let this thing sink! Not like this.” He
reached out, grabbed her hand, desperate to keep her steady, to keep her there…
but then it happened…
A massive wave, like a wall of water, rose up out of
the darkness and just loomed over them for what felt like forever, and all he
could think was this couldn’t be real, this couldn’t be happening.
But it was.
The wave slammed into the boat with an unbelievable
force, flipping it sideways and ripping them apart… One second, her hand was in
his, and the next, she was gone — swallowed whole by the dark ocean.
“Lisa!” He screamed, his voice raw and shredded as he
clawed at the water, the icy cold slicing through him like knives. He didn’t
even think, didn’t hesitate and just dove in headfirst, chasing after her…
The water was everywhere, black and endless, closing
in around him like a living thing and he kicked and thrashed, reaching out
blindly, his lungs burning as he screamed her name again and again.
And then he saw her, just for a moment – her face,
pale and ghostly, drifting in the dark below him, her eyes wide.
“I’m coming!” He tried shouting, bubbles escaping his
mouth as he sank deeper, reaching for her but no matter how hard he swam, she just
kept slipping further away, like the ocean itself was pulling her down.
“Don’t let go! Please, Lisa, don’t let go!”
But she did... Or maybe it wasn’t her choice… Maybe it
was the water dragging her down, down, down…
He jerked awake, his eyes snapping open, chest
heaving, the hum of the plane engines settling around him as he blinked, dazed
and disoriented. It took a second to remember where he was, to realize it had
only been a dream but his heart was still pounding, and he could still feel
that echo of her voice, slipping further away.
He leaned back, nursing the rest of his refilled drink
with a slow, steady sip, feeling the wine’s warmth creep through him. It
softened the edges of his thoughts and let the mess of the past few days blur
slightly. His eyes felt heavy again, and he let them close for a moment, trying
to ease into sleep once more.
It took some time but sleep finally pulled him in, bit
by bit, gently loosening his grip on the present…
The city was dead quiet and empty, like the whole
place had just given up and stopped breathing and he wandered through the
streets, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the surrounding empty buildings,
the sound unnervingly loud in the stillness…
“Lisa!” He called out, his voice cutting through the
silence like a knife but, for some reason, it didn’t echo back … it just hung
there, swallowed by the suffocating emptiness.
He started walking faster, turning corners, looking
down alleys that stretched on forever, all of them empty… The windows in the
buildings weren’t just dark, they looked hollow, like no one had ever lived
there, like no one even could.
And then, he saw her…
She was up ahead, just standing there at the edge of
an intersection, her back to him and his heart leapt into his throat.
“Lisa!” He shouted again, breaking into a run, seeing
that she didn’t move, didn’t even turn her head, like she hadn’t heard him at
all. “Wait! I’m right here!!”
But as he got closer, she started walking… Not
running, not even hurrying, just turning a corner like she had all the time in
the world.
“Dammit, Lisa, stop!” He yelled, sprinting after her,
his chest burning with every breath but when he turned the corner, expecting to
see her right there, she was already farther down the street, slipping around yet
another bend.
This kept happening over and over … him chasing, her
vanishing, always just out of reach. Michael’s legs started feeling like lead,
his lungs ready to explode, but he couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop, because he
knew he needed to get to her as fast as possible.
Finally, he rounded another corner, and there she was,
standing in the middle of a street that wasn’t empty anymore… Except it would
have been better if it actually was...
The road was packed with people, or at least some
things that used to be people. They stood there, unnaturally still, their faces
misshaped, like someone had tried to sculpt them from memory and got all the details
wrong… Their eyes were blank, their skin sallow and grayish, their mouths
curled in faint, unnatural smiles.
“Lisa.” He whispered, frozen in place as his stomach
twisted into knots and she slowly turned to look at him making his blood turn to
ice.
Her face wasn’t really hers anymore. Her eyes were
empty, her mouth twitching into the same off-kilter smile and she tilted her
head, studying him like he was the one who didn’t belong there, like he was
something strange and out of place…
“Lise?” He croaked, taking a shaky step toward her but
she didn’t answer. None of them did. But they all started moving, slow and
jerky, their heads turning in unison to follow him as he stumbled back, his
heart pounding so loud he thought it might burst…
“Lisa, please.” He begged, his voice shaking as they
closed in, their blank eyes locking on him, their eerie smiles widening. “It’s
me. Don’t you recognize me? It’s me!”
But she didn’t. Or… maybe she did, and that was the
worst part. The last thing he saw was her face, inches from his, her smile
stretching too wide, too wrong, before everything went black...
He jolted awake, this time with a loud gasp, heart
pounding as he took in the familiar setting of the jet’s cabin again. For a
second, he had to blink, shake off the dream’s strange grip on him before everything
snapped back into focus and he let out a long sigh…
Gosh, the sleeping pills were really doing a number on
him.
Around him, everything was calm, peaceful, his manager
was flipping through a magazine a few rows ahead, head tilted back lazily as he
read. One of the nannies was now crocheting something delicate and pink, her
fingers working rhythmically as she rocked side to side in her seat and both Blanket
and Paris were out cold while across the aisle, Prince was engrossed in a small
handheld game, eyes glued to the screen, oblivious to everything else.
The crew moved quietly in the background, refilling
drinks, tucking in blankets but even in the calm, Michael felt an ache inside,
some strange, restless energy refusing to leave him alone.
What an awful nightmare… He took a deep breath,
muttering under it as he fumbled into his jacket pocket for that orange bottle
of pills again, hoping that one or two more could shut his mind down all the
way, and let him sleep through the grueling, endless hours left on that flight,
preferably without another round of those awful nightmares.
He dry-swallowed another pill and closed his eyes
again, willing his mind to stop racing.
He adjusted his seat, slumped a little lower, and soon
felt his eyelids grow heavy again, the plane’s low hum lulling him back into
that quiet space, pulling him under like a slow tide…
This time, gentle music drifted around him, soft
and lilting, the kind of melody that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere
all at once.
The large ballroom was bathed in a warm, golden glow
of a hundred candles, their flames flickering like they were dancing too and
Michael held her close, the weight of her head resting gently against his chest
making him smile… He could feel her breath, soft and rhythmic, through the thin
fabric of his shirt as her familiar perfume, the one he had bought for her for
the first time on a whim years ago, wrapped around him like a warm embrace.
He closed his eyes and swayed with her, letting the
music carry them.
It was so peaceful… No words, no tension, just the two
of them moving in sync, the kind of effortless connection they had always had. He ran his thumb along the back of her hand, smiling at how perfect
it felt…
“This feels so good.” He mumbled, more to himself than
her and she hummed in response, a quiet sound of agreement that made his heart
skip a beat... But then, something shifted…
It was subtle at first. The rhythm of her steps
faltered, just a fraction of a second off-beat and Michael tightened his grip
on her, trying to steady her but the strange unease already started spreading.
Her hand in his didn’t feel quite right and the perfume suddenly didn’t smell
exactly right, either.
He opened his eyes, and his stomach dropped.
It… wasn’t Lisa looking back at him.
The woman in his arms was beautiful, no doubt about
that, her skin glowed in the candlelight and her lips curved into a soft, inviting
smile. But it wasn’t her. It wasn’t Lisa’s smile. It wasn’t Lisa’s face.
Michael’s breath hitched and he pulled back slightly,
trying to disentangle himself, but the woman tightened her grip, surprising him
with her strength.
“Hey…” He said, his voice coming out uneven. “What… what’s
going on? Who are you?”
She just smiled up at him, tilting her head like she
hadn’t heard the question or perhaps like it didn’t really matter and before he
could pull away again, she quickly leaned in, pressing her lips to his.
It felt… wrong. So wrong.
The kiss was soft and warm but it made his skin crawl
and Michael tried to step back, but the woman wouldn’t let him. Her hands clung
to his shirt, holding him there, impossibly strong for someone so small.
“I love you.” She whispered when she finally pulled
away, her eyes locking onto his like she meant every word. “You make me so
happy, Michael.”
His heart was now pounding like crazy, his pulse
roaring in his ears.
“Who are you?” He asked again, his voice sharper now, more
desperate but she ignored him, her smile widening as she reached up to touch
his face.
“Happy anniversary, my love.”
The words hit him like a punch to the gut.
Anniversary?
His mind scrambled, racing through foggy corners for
answers that weren’t there, but none of it made sense.
His gaze dropped to their hands, locked together as
they swayed and matching wedding rings caught the light, plain as day.
Matching.
Wedding.
Rings.
His stomach turned so hard he thought he might
actually throw up right there on the dance floor.
“No.” He said, shaking his head as he finally managed
to step back, his hands trembling. “No, this isn’t... this isn’t real.”
But as he looked around the ballroom, the candles
flickering like they were mocking him now, the realization hit him hard. This
was his life now, wasn’t it? Wherever Lisa was, if she even existed anymore, she
wasn’t part of it…
“I can’t...” He started, his voice breaking as the
world around him seemed to close in, the music turning sour, the walls of the ballroom
looming closer and closer…
He shot upright in his seat, his breath coming in
shallow, ragged gasps and Michael groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Jesus…” He muttered to himself, glancing out the
window at the darkness stretching endlessly outside. “Another one. Just great.”
Sleep had been like a cruel joke and every time he closed his eyes, it was some new dream, some new twist of the knife. He leaned back in his plush leather seat, staring up at the dimly lit ceiling of the private jet. The cabin was quiet, the overhead lights casting a soft glow but he needed to move, to shake the dream off before it consumed him whole. Pushing himself to his feet, he made his way down the aisle.
In the next section of the plane, Prince was sprawled
out on one of the seats, a Nintendo game in his lap and he looked up as Michael
approached, a genuine smile tugging at his lips.
Michael leaned in, ruffling his hair.
“Hey, how about a game? Chess? Uno?”
Prince’s face lit up and his grin immediately chased
away whatever demons threatened to consume Michael’s mind.
“Uno!” He said without hesitation.
The relative calm of reading books and playing with
his kids vanished the moment the wheels hit the tarmac in Bahrain after what
felt like a million hours in the air. Michael barely had time to unbuckle his
seatbelt before his security team approached him, their instructions breaking the silence in the cabin.
“Okay, Mr. Jackson… Straight to the limo. Don’t stop.
Stay close to the kids, okay?” One of them said firmly, the urgency in his tone
somewhat setting Michael on edge as he glanced at his children who were now
looking out the window.
The plane slowed to a stop, the faint vibration of the
engines still thrumming underfoot, and Michael caught a glimpse of the scene
waiting for them outside.
Even though they were in a private part of the
airport, the chaos was palpable… A mix of paparazzi with their cameras flashing
and fans waving signs and shouting. He had hoped they would just land, slide
into the car, and get the hell out of there unnoticed, but yeah, that was a
rookie thought.
He couldn’t hear them yet, but he didn’t really need
to. Michael knew the sound by heart: frantic, eager, and relentless… It was
always the same.
Part of him wished they hadn’t let the fans and media
onto the tarmac but he figured that it probably had something to do with the
producers wanting to make sure he was “seen"… A little promo, get some
buzz going. Whatever. The same old circus.
Michael adjusted his hat and sunglasses, trying to
prepare himself for the onslaught as he stood up.
“Alright, guys…” He said, trying to keep his voice
calm. “Stay with me. Don’t wander, okay?”
The kids nodded, slipping on sunglasses, hats, masks —
everything they had ready — before they made their way to the exit.
Security flanked them as they stepped out of the plane
and onto the tarmac, the warm afternoon air wrapping around them. It was thick
and salty, carrying a faint tang of jet fuel and the heat of the day in the
ground beneath their feet.
Michael kept his head low, one hand resting
protectively on Prince’s shoulder, the other holding Blanket’s hand as they
moved quickly across the asphalt toward the waiting limo. At one point though,
he did look up and waved, not caring about the media at all, but doing it for
the fans.
The sleek black car was parked just a few yards away
and the kids climbed in first, sliding across the cool leather seats, their
wide eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and unease.
Michael followed immediately, his heart still racing
as the door slammed shut behind him, sealing them off from the noise and chaos
outside.
For a moment, he let himself relax, leaning back
against the seat as the car pulled away. The limo glided smoothly onto the
private road leading out of the airport, but the calm didn’t last as a handful
of cars and scooters quickly swarmed behind them, trying to keep up and Michael
glanced back through the rear window, his jaw tightening when he saw photographers
hanging out of car windows, their cameras pointed straight at them. A fan on a
scooter weaved dangerously close to the limo, shouting something Michael
couldn’t hear.
God, he hated this part of his life so much…
“Just keep going.” He muttered to no one in
particular, though the driver seemed to take the hint, speeding up slightly.
The security detail in the cars behind them closed ranks, creating a barrier
that eventually forced the followers to peel off one by one and by the time
they merged onto a main road, the chaos was far behind them and Michael exhaled
slowly, the tension in his chest easing just a little as he turned his gaze to
the window.
The city unfolded around them, a mix of old and new
that seemed to pulse with life.
Towering skyscrapers with gleaming glass facades
loomed over more traditional, sand-colored buildings with intricate arches and
balconies, palm trees lined the streets and shops and markets were bustling,
their signs written in Arabic script Michael couldn’t read.
“Wow…” Paris whispered, her voice filled with wonder
as she pressed her face to the window and Prince leaned closer to his side of
the car, his eyes wide as he took it all in. Even Blanket kept glancing
outside, his expression curious and awestruck.
Michael watched them, his lips twitching into a faint
smile. At least they seemed to be enjoying themselves... For a moment, he let
himself focus on their excitement, on the way their eyes lit up at the
unfamiliar sights though his own mind refused to stay in the present for too
long, drifting back — inevitably — to Lisa…
The ache in his chest returned as her face filled all his
thoughts once again and he rubbed his hand over his jaw, the stubble scratching
against his palm, thinking about their last conversation — or whatever that had
actually been.
His brow furrowed as frustration bubbled up again, and
he sighed, reaching for his phone almost instinctively.
He powered it on, not entirely sure if it would work
in that new time zone without a local SIM card, and for a moment, the screen
flickered uncertainly before the signal bars appeared, faint but somewhat
functional and then disappeared altogether.
Michael sighed and as he flipped through the menu, he
noticed a blinking voicemail icon and with a press of the OK button, he got to
the three new voice messages, the familiar beeps and clicks of the interface driving
him crazy.
“Hey, you guys okay?” He asked, glancing at his kids
as he tucked the phone into his lap for a moment.
“Yeah…” Prince mumbled, still staring out the window.
“You hungry? Tired?”
“We’re fine, Daddy.” Paris said softly, not turning
away from the view while Blanket didn’t even respond, his attention fully absorbed
by the passing scenery and Michael let out a small chuckle, shaking his head.
“Alright, well, I’m gonna listen to some messages here,
okay?”
They nodded absently, clearly uninterested in what he
was saying, and Michael took that as his cue. As the limo continued to glide
through the streets, his focus was no longer on the city or even the curious
stares of his children… It was on the messages he now needed to hear, hoping
one of them would be from… her…
The first one turned out to be from his mother and Michael
pressed the button, and lifted the phone to his ear.
He looked out the window as her voice began to play, the warmth in her tone evident even through the scratchy voicemail…
“Hello, Michael. I hope this message finds you well, I
imagine you must still be in the air. I just wanted to check in and see how you
and the children were doing. This morning, I found one of Blanket’s little Hot
Wheels cars here at the house. I thought you should know, in case he starts
looking for it. I know how much comfort children find in their small treasures,
especially during big transitions like this.
It’s been hard, knowing how far away you’ll be. Two
months feel like such a long time without you and the kids nearby, though I
keep reminding myself it’s only temporary. We all miss you already. Please call
when you can after you land. Safe travels, my dear.”
He closed his eyes, resting his head against the seat,
and let out a quiet breath through his nose. There it was, that familiar,
subtle guilt-tripping he knew all too well, sharp and familiar, though he knew
she really didn’t mean any harm.
“Oh, and one more thing, I talked to Lisa Marie
earlier today.” She continued, and Michael’s eyes flickered open at the mention
of her name. “She didn’t sound good. Is everything okay with her? With you
two?”
Michael sighed audibly, earning a glance from Paris,
who quickly turned back to the window while his fingers tightened slightly
around the phone as he processed his mother’s words.
Lisa didn’t sound good. What did that even mean?
He doubted it had anything to do with him leaving… It
was probably more about the mess she had created in her own head, like some
kind of prison she had built for herself where she had later locked herself in,
just sitting there, stewing in her guilt over what had happened to Matt.
His thoughts tangled as the message ended, leaving a
soft beep in its wake…
The phone immediately began playing the next message
and this time the voice on the other end was very, very different — cold, short,
and entirely devoid of any empathy at all.
“Michael, it’s John. I assume you’re off the plane by
now and hearing this, so listen up.” His tone was sharp, like the crack of a
whip, making Michael instinctively sit up straighter. “The team knows the
drill. The kids and the nannies will be taken straight to the hotel, so don’t
worry about that. I need you to be at the Ritz-Carlton by eight o’clock.
There’s a press conference scheduled - big room, lots of cameras, and, frankly,
we can’t afford for you to screw this up.”
Michael’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning
white and his jaw clenched as he stared out the window, the sights blurring
together into a meaningless haze. The way the man talked to him was rubbing him
the wrong way… no respect, no nothing. Only full contempt.
“I know you’ve been on a plane for quite some time,
but that’s the job, Michael. You signed up for this, so I don’t want to hear
any excuses. Put on some deodorant, show up, smile, answer the damn questions, then
you can go get some rest. Got it?”
Michael’s teeth ground together as he fought the urge
to hurl the phone across the limo.
Goddammit!!!
He had barely stepped off the plane, hadn’t even had a
chance to stretch his legs properly, let alone take a shower and already they
were barking orders like he was some kind of puppet they owned.
“And don’t even think about trying to dodge it…” John
added. “We own your ass now, Michael, and you’d better be aware of that.”
The message ended abruptly, leaving Michael gripping
the phone so tightly it felt like it might break. He let out an angry grunt,
loud enough that now both Paris and Prince turned to look at him again and their
wide eyes softened his temper, as he forced a small smile.
“Sorry, guys… ” He mumbled, his voice gentler now.
“Just some business stuff. You like the city?”
They seemed satisfied with that, nodded and went back
to staring out the window, but Michael’s mind was anything but calm and he let
out another slow, measured breath, trying to reel in his anger.
There wasn’t much point in fighting it… He had gotten
himself into this mess, and now he had to see it through. The financial
situation was bad, worse than he liked to admit even to himself and this deal
was like a bitter pill he just had to swallow now.
As Michael tried to settle his nerves, the phone
beeped again, signaling one more message…
Static crackled from the phone at first, followed by a
faint, hesitant clearing of someone’s throat and then he heard her voice…
“Hey, it’s me.”
Lisa’s voice was soft, almost shy, and something in it
tugged at him, hard. Without realizing it, Michael leaned back against the
seat, his knuckles loosening on his phone as a small smile tried to pull at his
lips which he, however, quickly chased away.
He was still pissed, still raw from the way she had
treated him last week, how she had brushed him aside like an afterthought but her
voice had always had that strange, indescribable power over him.
“I guess you’re on the plane now.” Her voice was shaky, like she was trying to keep it together and failing miserably. “I hope the flight’s okay. I hope the kids are okay. Look, I just…” She trailed off, and Michael could hear her swallow hard, like she was bracing herself. “I’m sorry.”
His chest tightened, his grip on the phone
instinctively tightening again.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Michael.” She said, her voice
cracking as the words rushed out, stumbling over each other. “I screwed this
up. All of it. I thought… I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought I
was helping, but maybe I wasn’t, really. God, I’ve been such an asshole! I was
so wrapped up in what had happened, drowning in that goddamn guilt bullshit
swirling inside my head, that I ….”
Her voice hitched, and then came the sobs, raw and
gasping, breaking through like a dam bursting. Michael swallowed hard, closing his eyes as he listened to her crying. Hearing her
like that made him feel like his heart was being wrung out and he wanted to
reach through the phone, to pull her close, to hold her tight and tell her it
was okay, that they would figure it out.
But he couldn’t.
“And the worst… the worst part is, I see it now…” She
went on, her words breaking apart between sobs. “I see it, and I wish I could
take it all back. I wish I could go back and undo everything, but hell, I
can’t! Why does everything have to be so fucking hard??! I… I fucked up your
last week in the States, our last week and I can’t fix what I did now, and…and
it’s killing me. Dammit,
I even missed saying goodbye to you before you left! I…I don’t know how I let
it get that far!! And now you're gone, and I can't even try to make it right.”
Her breathing was shaky, uneven.
“You deserve someone better than me.” She choked out,
her voice trembling with what sounded like guilt and grief. “I hate that we had
plans and I single-handedly ruined them… though… though I really thought I was
doing the right thing at the time. Well, and now you’re gone, and … and I can’t
even tell you face to face how sorry I am. And I hate myself for that, too.”
Her sobs came harder now, and Michael felt his own
throat tighten painfully. He wanted to be mad. He was mad. But hearing her fall apart like that made it impossible to
hold on to his anger and all he wanted was to be there, to wipe her tears, to
tell her it was all good and to promise her they could figure everything out
together.
“You deserve someone who doesn’t fuck up the way I do.
Someone who doesn’t drag you down with them. I… I don’t know how to fix this
anymore. I don’t know how to fix myself.”
Michael’s eyes snapped open, his breath hitched, and
his grip on the phone tightened even more.
Wait a minute!
It wasn’t just an apology and those weren’t just some
random words… No, everyone on earth knew what that sounded like. Those were the
opening notes of the breakup anthem, the same melody every person started playing
when they were about to tap out …
His stomach dropped.
Was that what this was?
Was she giving up?
Tapping out on them?
The thought made his pulse spike, a cold sweat
breaking out as he listened to her clear her throat again, like she was trying
to pull herself together.
“Anyway.” She said, her voice still unsteady and the
raw edge of her sobs still very much there. “I just… I hope the flight’s not
too bad. And tell the kids I said hi, okay? I’ll… I’ll talk to you later... I
think. Bye, Michael.”
The line went dead, but her words lingered, echoing in
his head like a bell tolling in the distance. He opened his eyes and for a long
moment, he just sat there, his thoughts swirling like a storm.
He wanted to scream, to cry, to throw the damn phone
out the window, but all he could do was sit there, frozen in the weight of it
all.
Michael didn’t need a translator to know that the line
was a clear breakup roadmap.
You deserve someone better.
It wasn’t just a phrase, it was a prelude to the “it’s
not you, it’s me” symphony, and his stomach turned, a sick, heavy knot twisting
tighter with every second.
He needed to call her. Now! But as he fumbled with the
phone again, wondering if the piece of crap was even capable of making a phone
call from the other side of the planet, the driver’s voice broke through his
frantic thoughts.
“We’re here, sir…” He said politely. “I’ve been
instructed to drop off the kids at the hotel before taking you to the
Ritz-Carlton for the press conference.”
Michael groaned inwardly… The last thing he needed now
was to face a room full of reporters and cameras when all he wanted was to find
Lisa, to call her, to send a plane for her to bring her to him and to hold her,
to fix whatever now seemed to be breaking between them.
But that was not an option now…
Oh no it's so sad π π’
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry... I feel like I'm causing you a permanent trauma with the story π Thank you for reading and reviewing. Have a great day π
DeleteMerry Christmas
DeleteIt's sad how they both are in this situation, they need to learn to communicate better. I also love the last two chapters, I love stories with a lot of anguish. Thank u ✨️
ReplyDeleteThank you for your review, you're in the right place for anguish, it's going to get worse. Stay tuned! π Merry Christmas and I'll be back soon. π
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