CHAPTER 24

 

Chapter 24

 

Lisa stood at the edge of the VIP section, her fingers gripping the cold metal rail. The stadium roared around her, a pulsating sea of screams, chants and flashing lights slicing through the darkness like jagged bolts of electricity.

The energy of the crowd was intoxicating, waves of sound that rose and fell with the rhythm of the show while massive screens flanked the stage, casting larger-than-life images of Michael onto the fans below, their faces turned up in awe and devotion.

Banners and signs bobbed above heads, declarations of love and admiration scrawled in glitter and neon markers and Lisa could see the people closest to the stage - girls pressed shoulder to shoulder, many on the verge of tears or already crying, others screaming his name at the top of their lungs. Some fainted, overwhelmed by the spectacle and she watched the security guards move in and out, hoisting limp bodies over barriers and passing them to the paramedics.

And then there was Michael.

From where Lisa stood, she had a perfect view of him - close enough to take in the sharp precision of his movements but far enough to feel detached, like she was watching from behind a screen.

He moved like a force of nature, every step perfectly in time with his backup dancers, his jumps measured and controlled yet still explosive. His energy lit up the stage, electrifying and hypnotic and whenever he spread his arms wide, leaning into a note, it was like he was opening himself up, sharing something intimate and raw with the thousands of people packed into the venue.

He had done it. He had created a show so spectacular it had sold out in minutes and just like that he had reestablished himself as the King of Pop.

Every note, every move, every light cue was flawless and the crowd loved him, he had them in the palm of his hand, and there was no doubt in her mind that the reviews would be glowing…

But beneath her pride there was also something darker, something heavier. Sadness, because as incredible as this moment was, she wasn’t a part of it. Not really. Not anymore…

She thought back to their last fight again, the words that had finally torn them apart.

Michael had pretty much told her he couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t deal with her indecision, her constant back-and-forth. He was tired of being her second choice, her fallback, and so he had made the only decision he could: he had walked away.

And he had been right to do it. Lisa knew that. He was trying to focus on his career, and she had only been holding him back.

God, if she could just rewind the last nine weeks... take it all back somehow...

The opening chords of another song jolted her back to the present, snapping her out of her thoughts. It was “The Way You Make Me Feel” and the crowd went wild again.

Michael strode back onto the stage, wearing a blue shirt left unbuttoned over a white T-shirt and he swayed to the beat, his body loose and confident, completely in sync with the music.

But even from the distance, Lisa could see the changes in him. He looked as handsome as ever, his chiseled features illuminated by the stage lights, but there was also something else. He was thin, almost hauntingly so, and it gave him an edge that made her stomach twist.

As the song built, the choreography began to shift and a young woman appeared onstage, her presence drawing a fresh wave of screams from the crowd. She was beautiful, with long legs showcased by a sleek black dress and high heels, and her movements were fluid and provocative, perfectly timed to Michael’s.

Lisa’s could feel her heart sinking for some reason as she watched the two of them interact, their dance flirtatious and charged as the girl ran a hand over Michael’s chest, her touch lingering before she turned and walked away, her hips swaying.

Michael followed, his steps deliberate and his expression playful, and the crowd ate it up, their cheers growing louder with each passing second.

But then Lisa’s breath caught when the girl stopped abruptly, Michael coming to a halt beside her and she reached out, her hand sliding over his back down to his butt, the gesture bold and unapologetic, and Lisa saw Michael grinning, flashing that boyish smile that had charmed millions, making Lisa feel a sharp pang of jealousy stab through her.

But what right did she even have to feel jealous?

They were done. Over. Michael wasn’t hers anymore and she had only herself to blame... Whoever wanted to touch him, or wherever they wanted to touch him, was none of her damn business anymore and yet, the sight of him with someone else, even in the context of a performance, made her stomach drop.

She tried to look away but her eyes betrayed her once again, drifting back to the stage just in time to see the girl grab the hem of Michael’s shirt, pulling him toward her. The kiss was theatrical, meant to rile up the crowd, and it worked, the stadium erupting in screams and cheers, the sound deafening but Lisa had to look away again…

She focused on the floor beneath her feet for a minute, the polished concrete cool and impersonal.

How had she even ended up here?

She hadn’t planned to attend the concert or to see him and yet there she was, standing in the middle of this chaos, feeling everything she had tried so hard to bury.

Her mind drifted back to the past two weeks and all the events that had led her back here...

 

After everything that had unfolded in Bahrain — Lisa flying halfway across the world to talk to him, only to be stonewalled by Michael’s staff, kept at arm’s length as if she were an unwelcome intruder — it was clear the fight was over.

Then, the final blow came during their heart-wrenching conversation in her hotel room, where words cut deeper than silence ever could. Lisa knew then, with an aching certainty, that there wasn’t much left to salvage.

And so when some young girl, Michael’s supposed assistant, had called the next day and said she had arranged a flight for her back to the States, Lisa didn’t even argue. She agreed numbly as the girl detailed the itinerary, a first-class seat, a 3-hour layover in London, and the promise of top-notch service to ease the long trip.

But the comfort meant nothing to Lisa as she boarded the plane and flew through the night, away from him…

By the time the plane landed at Heathrow, the hours had blurred together in a haze of restless sleep and quiet sadness. Lisa found herself in the airport lounge, tucked into a corner that felt mercifully isolated and she sipped from a flute of champagne, the bubbles fizzing faintly against her lips.

The alcohol dulled the sharpest edges of her pain, numbing it enough to function, but of course, it didn’t take it away. Nothing would, really.

Her phone buzzed on the table, and instinctively, her hand darted toward it hoping for a brief, heart-stopping moment that maybe it was Michael.

But no. Of course, it wasn’t.

To her surprise, though, it was Sarah.

Call me if you have time. S.

Lisa smiled. It had been months since she had last heard from Sarah, but there was something about her that always felt somewhat grounding. Hearing from her and talking to her, was like slipping on a pair of warm slippers on a cold day, so comfortable and familiar, you simply couldn’t help but feel a little better.

Without hesitation, Lisa tapped the call button. The phone rang once, then twice, and then Sarah’s voice came through, bright and warm.

“Lisa Marie!” Sarah greeted her, her voice carrying that touch of posh British elegance she never quite managed to shake, but it was never pretentious. It was just... Sarah.

“Hey.”

“It’s been ages! How on earth are you? And the kids? Tell me everything. I’m just sitting here and I thought about you, girl…”

Lisa blinked back a sudden sting in her eyes.

“I’m... okay. I think…” She started, though the words felt like a thin layer of ice over deep water. “The kids are good, keeping me on my toes as usual. How are you? I have missed you!”

“Oh, darling, you know me. Still living in organised chaos. But that’s not why I’m reaching out… What’s all this I’ve been reading about you online lately?”

“What do you mean?” Lisa said, buying time. Gosh, did she really want to get into all that again?? Really?

“Oh, some... hullabaloo, I don’t know.” Sarah said, sounding both curious and concerned. “Something about drama at your house? I figured I should check in. You know me, always looking for an excuse to be nosy.”

“It’s been a rough couple of months.” Lisa sighed and smiled softly, glancing down at the rim of her half-empty champagne glass. “Everything’s just... gone a bit sideways, I should say.”

“Hmm.” There was a pause before Sarah spoke again. “Darling, where are you? I can hear something. It’s terribly loud in the background.”

“The airport.”

“The airport?” Sarah’s tone shot up, a mix of curiosity and alarm. “And where, pray tell, are you gallivanting off to?”

“I’m in London, actually.” Lisa murmured. “Just waiting for my connecting flight. Sorry about the noise.”

“Oh, well then, isn’t this serendipitous? You’re in my neck of the woods, and you didn’t even think to let me know? You know how much I always love to see you. Honestly, Lisa, I’m a touch offended.” Her tone was light, teasing, but there was warmth beneath it too.

“I’m sorry, Sarah… My life’s been a bit hectic…”

“Well, Lisa Marie, get your bum up and grab your stuff because you’re not getting on that plane.”

“What?”

“You’re not. I won’t allow it. Look, I haven’t seen you in donkey’s years, and frankly, it sounds like you’re on the verge of collapse. You’ll come to mine instead. I’ll send a car to fetch you. It’s the perfect timing!”

“Sarah, I…” Lisa started, but Sarah cut her off, her words cascading in that confident, take-charge tone Lisa both loved and dreaded.

"None of that, darling. You’ve clearly had a tough time  and what you need is a proper break, and who better to give you that than me? Sounds to me like you could use a bit of spoiling."

“I have to get back to the kids.” Lisa protested weakly.

“They’re perfectly capable of surviving without you for a few more days…” Sarah countered. “Or I could have them flown over here too if you’re that worried.”

“No…no… Danny hates it when they miss school. I would never hear the end of it.” Then Lisa paused, thinking… “You know what? You might be onto something. I do need a breather.”

“Well, there you are…” Sarah said with an air of triumph. “Sorted. Grab all your things and I’ll have Martin pick you up in a bit.”

Lisa’s mind flitted briefly to Danny and the kids, but then it moved onto Sarah’s warm home, her easy laughter, and the thought of having someone to talk to about everything that had gone down.

“Okay…”

“Fabulous! We’ll have a proper natter and sort you out. I’m sure you’ve got this, darling, but it helps to have reinforcements.”

As she ended the call, Lisa let out a long, trembling breath. Maybe this wasn’t such a terrible idea after all. A few days with Sarah could be just what she needed … a moment to catch her breath, reset her nerves, and gather herself before stepping back into the whirlwind of her life…

And so before Lisa knew it, she was sliding into a black limo with a proper British chauffeur, who whisked her through the idyllic English countryside.

Sarah’s estate, tucked near Dover, always felt like something out of a fairy tale to Lisa … rolling green hills, cobblestone paths, and a grand manor surrounded by gardens bursting with blooms. It was beautiful…

And right there, for a few peaceful days, Lisa let herself get completely lost in the serenity of Sarah’s world… They rode horses across the countryside, stood on the cliffs watching the sun rise over the English Channel, and stayed up late drinking wine and reminiscing about old times.

“You’re going to be okay…” Sarah told her one evening with a smile and at that point Lisa almost believed it…

Until the next morning…

Lisa sat at the dining table with fresh ginger tea in one hand and a scone in the other when her phone rang, the relative calm shattered in an instant.

It was Katherine.

“Lisa…” Katherine said, her voice trembling. “Michael’s in the hospital. He fainted during rehearsal and …!”

Lisa’s blood ran cold. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. He sounded disoriented when I talked to him, his voice was hoarse, and I could barely hear him. He wasn’t making much sense, either. And now... now I can’t get through to him at all!! I think the people around him are trying to keep me away.”

Katherine paused and Lisa bit her lip. Fucking bastards, it was one thing to keep him away from her, but his mother? How could they? Lisa could only imagine how worried Katherine must have been.

“He never lets anything like this happen, my dear.” Katherine continued. “He’s always been the one to make sure nobody interferes, especially when it comes to me. I know, because they’ve tried in the past. But this time... he must be in bad shape, maybe too much to even have a say in it. I really do not know.”

The thought of Michael lying weak in a hospital bed made Lisa’s chest tighten and she closed her eyes, swallowing hard.

“He kept saying your name.” Katherine added. “Over and over, like you were the only one he wanted to talk to.”

“Katherine, I don’t think…”

“Please, Lisa. I really cannot fly there now and he needs someone to get through to him. I think... I think you’re the only one who can do that.”

Lisa’s heart ached, torn between the desperate urge to run to his side and the gnawing fear of being turned away once again. She wasn’t even sure if she should tell Katherine about everything that had gone down with Michael, how messy it had gotten, or how she had already been to Bahrain, only to be unceremoniously kicked out.

And then there was the teeny-tiny problem of actually getting to him. Like, how in the world was she supposed to pull that off with the army of leeches surrounding him 24/7?

Well... and that was how Lisa ended up turning into Annabelle Brown for the night of Michael’s concert…

Two days after the phone call with Katherine, Janet had somehow worked her magic, pulling strings to secure Lisa a spot on the VIP list at Michael's concert, complete with backstage access after the show.

It probably wasn’t simple to get through the army of handlers that surrounded him and even Janet, being his sister and with all her connections, had a hard time getting past the wall of people who guarded Michael like he was some fragile treasure.

And of course he was their fragile treasure! They hadn't drained him dry all the way just yet and still needed more…

But Janet had somehow managed, schmoozing Michael’s producers into believing she was actually way too busy to even visit her brother's concert before she spun a story about paying back a favor to a friend, a huge fan of Michael, and they bought it…

The producers hadn’t batted an eye at the idea of some random woman backstage as long as Janet, Michael’s mother or any other member of his family didn’t insist on seeing Michael themselves and Annabelle Brown clearly sounded innocent enough … no threat, no drama, just another casual fan.

And so Janet and Lisa had agreed on that almost ridiculous ruse. With the leeches around Michael doing everything they could to isolate him from his family or anyone who might try to get through to him, Lisa really couldn’t go in as herself. She was too recognizable. It was crazy that she had to pretend to be someone else at the concert of her ex-husband but it was what it was… That was the world Michael had lived in… ridiculous, sad, and scary all at once.

Lisa flew back to Bahrain the day before the big comeback concert and Annabelle Brown was born…

To sell the illusion, Lisa had donned a raven-black wig with glossy waves that cascaded to her shoulders and when she had finished the transformation, complete with red lipstick and dramatic eyeliner, she had been startled by her reflection. She looked like her mother in the photos from decades ago … Crazy.

The disguise was necessary, though the wig itched, and the tight black dress and heels made her feel like she was walking around in someone else’s skin. The dress clung to her body in all the wrong places, far more revealing than she was comfortable with and Lisa tugged at the fabric, feeling exposed, every inch of her skin suddenly hypersensitive under the unforgiving material.

The heels made her feel unsteady, as if she was playing a part she wasn’t ready for but now, standing in the VIP zone of the arena, she had no choice but to go through with it...

It was beyond ridiculous, how far things had gone and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of it all…

The crowd went crazy as the encore dragged on, each note stretching the moment just a little longer and Lisa stood there, watching the performance unfold as the stage lights blazed, casting sharp shadows over Michael as he stood at center stage, sweat-slicked and glowing under the intense lights.

He gripped the microphone with both hands, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his voice hoarse but full of passion.

“I love you, I love you so much!” He was saying over and over, his voice breaking in that familiar, earnest way, the kind that always made the audience scream even louder. “This has been an amazing night. Thank you, thank you all for coming! I love you all!”

The crowd’s applause swelled, deafening and the music began to wind down, the final notes dragging out like a slow, languid stretch and Michael raised his hand one last time, the lights beginning to dim. He bowed deeply, letting the applause roll over him, acknowledging the love of his fans before he finally spoke the last words.

“Goodnight, I love you!” His voice echoed one last time before the stage lights cut out, leaving nothing but the thrum of the crowd’s energy hanging in the air.

As the cheers continued to echo, Lisa watched Michael disappear off the stage and she knew from Janet that a limited number of VIP passes had been issued for the night, and she imagined those lucky fans were already clamoring near the backstage entrance, hoping for a glimpse of Michael. She needed to make sure she would be the last there, and so she bided her time, making her way slowly toward some security detail and when they let her pass, she spent some time lingering in the quieter corridors, keeping her head low.

At one point, the bodyguard she recognized from weeks ago strode past her, his broad frame blocking out the light for a moment and her pulse spiked, as she turned toward a wall of promotional posters, feigning interest.

She stared at the glossy photos of Michael rehearsing, praying the man wouldn’t recognize her and when he passed without a second glance, she let out a shaky breath, her heart hammering in her chest.

What in the world was she even doing there? Katherine and Janet had talked her into flying back to Bahrain, insisting that Michael needed her help, but now, standing there in her almost ridiculous disguise, it all felt incredibly foolish.

Michael had made it clear he was done with her so what if he called his security the moment he saw her? What if he had her escorted out, humiliated in front of everyone?

But the other part of her, the stubborn part that couldn’t let go, told her to see it through. After all, she had promised Katherine and the least she could do was try…

About fifteen or so minutes later, Lisa decided it was now or never. She squared her shoulders as she slowly approached the dressing room area.

Security personnel were stationed at various points, their earpieces in place, scanning the people around with sharp eyes. Lisa flashed her VIP badge whenever they gave her a suspicious glance, trying her best to appear casual and each time, they nodded curtly and gestured for her to move along, pointing her in the right direction.

Her nerves grew sharper with every step and the closer she got, the more real it became. And then there it was: Michael’s dressing room.

A large man stood guard outside, his arms crossed over his chest and Lisa held up the badge, forcing a smile.

The guard gave her a once-over, his eyes lingering on her face for a beat too long and Lisa’s pulse quickened before she took a small step back, hoping the shadows in the dim hallway would work in her favor.

“He’s with someone right now.” The guard said.

“Of course. I’ll wait.” Lisa nodded quickly and she moved a few steps away, pretending to read some texts on her phone, though her hands trembled too much to focus on the screen. She could feel the guard’s eyes on her, scrutinizing, but she forced herself to stay calm.

After what felt like an eternity, the door to Michael’s dressing room finally opened, and a tall man stepped out. His robes were pristine white, his keffiyeh neatly folded over his head, and he carried himself with an air of quiet authority. His dark eyes softened as they landed on Lisa.

“Good evening…” He said, his voice smooth and lightly accented.

Lisa managed a polite smile. “Good evening.”

The man inclined his head in acknowledgment, then stepped aside to hold the door open for her but just as Lisa moved to step past him, the burly goon stationed by the door barked at her.

“You’ve got five minutes.”

Lisa didn’t even glance his way.

“Thank you…” She murmured quickly, sliding into the room without hesitation.

It was like stepping into another world, the world she had left years ago and never thought she would experience again. The dressing room was bright, the fluorescent lights reflecting off a mirrored wall lined with cosmetics, hair products, and half-empty water bottles. A couch sat against one side, draped with what looked like Michael’s jacket, and two armchairs were positioned nearby while a coffee table sat in the middle, cluttered with a few discarded papers, half-empty coffee cups, and random bits of equipment.

And then, there he was...

Michael stood near the mirror, his back to her, a towel casually draped over his shoulders and he was rummaging through a duffel bag, his movements slow and distracted. He wore some black slacks and a white t-shirt stained with makeup smudges from the show and for a moment, it seemed like he didn’t even notice her. His movements stopped, clearly giving up on looking for whatever he was looking for, and he raised a Gatorade bottle to his lips instead, taking a slow sip.

Lisa swallowed hard, her throat dry before she cleared it softly, the sound feeling too loud in the stillness of the room.

Michael flinched, his shoulders tensing, and he turned abruptly, his gaze landing on her.

For a moment, his expression was unreadable, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. But then his head tilted slightly, as though he was trying to place her, and his lips twitched in the faintest, most imperceptible smile.

“Wow…” He said, his voice low, his tone almost amused and the way his voice trailed off told her he had recognized her.

“Hi…”

“What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you.”

He glanced pointedly at her outfit, his gaze lingering on the lanyard around her neck.

“And you thought you needed a disguise for that?”

“Actually, yeah… I did.” She said, her voice firmer now. “It’s not exactly easy to get to you these days.”

Michael stepped closer, slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, before he reached out to take the VIP badge dangling from her neck and his fingers brushed against her chest, sending a jolt through her as he turned the badge over in his hand, studying it.

“Annabelle…” He read, his tone light but his expression still unreadable. “Hmmm. Nice to meet you, Annabelle. How are you? Did you enjoy the show?”

Lisa blinked. He didn’t sound like himself, not the Michael she knew, at least. There was still that guardedness in his voice, that deliberate detachment but when she looked closer, she could also see the toll the last few weeks, or even months had taken on him.

His eyes were tired and his movements were slower, as if he was conserving energy.

“Mind if we sit down?” She asked, keeping her tone light. She wasn’t asking for herself, but she could tell he was barely keeping it together, his shoulders slumped as if he might collapse any second and Lisa wanted him to sit down and take it easy for a minute.

Michael shrugged, dropping the badge back.

“Sure, why not.” He said, his voice casual, though there was a clear edge of weariness beneath it and they moved to the corner of the room before Lisa sat down on one of the armchairs.

“So?” Michael said, sinking into the chair opposite her. “Did you like the show, Annabelle?”

Lisa wasn’t sure if he was joking or annoyed.

“Now that I’ve made it past your security detail, I think we can drop the act.” She grunted and with that, she reached up and tugged the wig off, shaking her hair free. Relief flooded her as the constricting cap released its hold, and she tossed the wig onto the table. “And yes, I did. It was amazing.”

Michael smiled faintly, his eyes flicking to the wig before meeting hers again.

“Is that why you came? To sing my praises? You could’ve just written a good review in Kerrang! or something, didn’t need to bother waiting in line to get into my dressing room.”

“No, I’m not here only to praise you, Michael. I’m here because I’m worried about you. We all are.”

The faint smile on his lips vanished, replaced by something darker and sharper, and he tilted his head, watching her closely, his silence stretching uncomfortably.

“You don’t need to worry about me.” He said at last, his voice low and flat. “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“Michael, come on... I...”

A knock on the door interrupted her.

Oh great, now his bodyguard was probably coming in to inform her that her five minutes were over and she could already imagine Michael using it as an opportunity to kick her out.

She heard Michael sigh heavily as he stood and Lisa watched him, her stomach sinking when he stumbled slightly, catching himself against the arm of the chair.

“You okay?”

He waved her off, swallowing hard.

“I’m fine.” He mumbled, though the slight tremor in his voice told a very different story.

Then he slowly crossed the room and opened the door, revealing a young woman standing there, smiling at him.

Lisa recognized her immediately: the ‘The Way You Make Me Feel’ dancer.

Well, perfect…

“Hey, Mike.” The girl said, her tone light and playful, while she leaned against the doorframe. “We’re all grabbing a drink in the back. Just wanted to let you know.”

“Thanks. I’ll… I’ll be there in a bit.” Michael offered her a polite smile and the girl lingered for a moment, her eyes flicking to Lisa before returning to Michael.

“Don’t keep us waiting too long, okay?” She then said, her voice lilting with flirtation.

When she left, Michael closed the door with deliberate slowness, the soft click of the lock catching Lisa off guard as it echoed through the quiet room.

Did he just lock the door? That had to be a good sign…

She watched him lean back against the door, eyes closing briefly as if trying to steady himself. Then, after a minute or two, Michael straightened, pushing off the door and walking back toward her with measured steps. He sat down slowly, exhaling a long breath before finally meeting her eyes.

“I’m busy, Lisa.” He said, his words slow and his tone tired. “Let’s cut to the chase. Did my family send you here or something?”

“Yes…” There was no point in lying to him. “They’re worried about you and so am I.”

“They really need to start minding their own business.” Michael snapped, his jaw tightening. “You can relay the info about my concert if you want, but I really don’t need anyone hovering around. I’m okay.”

“You don’t look okay.”

“Gee, thanks. Anything else? Did my show suck too?”

“Michael, stop! I didn’t mean…”

“Look, I’m alright. I’m not drowning, or anything. Feel free to tell my nosy siblings.” He said, his voice cold and defensive. “I’m just busy, Lisa. I don’t have time to…”

“To what? To be human? To admit that this might be too much?”

“It’s not too much…” He bit out, his voice rising. “And even if it was, what difference would it make? What would you do, Lisa? Hmmm? Fix it? Save me?”

He laughed bitterly and his words cut deep, but Lisa refused to flinch.

“I would be there.” She said simply. “That’s what I would do.”

“Lies…”

Michael shook his head, his expression sad and hollow, and when he stood up, Lisa saw him sway slightly, his hand reaching out to steady himself against the wall.

“Michael?” Lisa breathed out the second she noticed his face paling but he turned and stumbled toward the bathroom door.

“I’m fine…” He growled weakly, but his steps were unsteady as he walked in, closing the door behind him. She heard the soft shuffle of his feet behind the closed door and then came the awful, wrenching sound of him being sick.

The retching went on for a while, and when it finally stopped, Lisa slowly stood up, grabbed a bottle of water from the minifridge and moved to the bathroom door, the cold plastic biting into her palm. She knocked softly and pushed the door open.

The sight of him stopped her cold.

Michael was slumped on the tiled floor, back against the wall, knees drawn up slightly, his head cradled in his hands.

“Here…” She said softly, crouching beside him. Twisting the cap off the bottle, she pressed it gently into his hand but he didn’t move at first, and for a moment, she thought he might not take it. Then his fingers curled around it, hesitant, and when he lifted it to his lips, his hand trembled so much she could see the water sloshing inside. He managed a small, shaky sip before lowering it again, his grip slack like even holding the bottle was too much.

When Lisa saw the tears glistening in his eyes, her throat tightened. He was trying so hard to keep it together, his jaw clenching and unclenching like sheer willpower could hold him together and before she could second-guess herself, Lisa reached out and slid her arms around him.

At first, he froze, every muscle in his body going rigid under her touch but then, like a dam breaking, he let out a shaky breath and leaned into her, his weight collapsing against her while his head dropped heavily onto her shoulder. His body trembled, exhaustion radiating from him like heat from a dying ember.

Lisa tightened her hold instinctively, her hand moving in slow circles over his back. His shirt was damp with sweat, and his skin felt ice-cold beneath it.

“Shh, it’s okay…” She murmured, resting her cheek on the top of his head, his hair damp and soft against her skin. “I’m here, Michael. You don’t have to do this alone.”

His shoulders jerked, and it took her a moment to realize he was crying hard now, silent sobs racking his body. She held him tighter, anchoring him in the only way she knew how and for the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn’t fighting her, pushing her away or retreating into himself. And neither was she.

Lisa shifted slightly, kneeling next  to him and cradling his head against her chest, her fingers threading gently through his hair.

“I’ve got you…” She whispered. “It’s going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

He didn’t answer, but slowly, tentatively, his arms came up to wrap around her and at first, his hold was uncertain, shaky, but then it tightened, almost desperate, as though letting go would break him entirely.

He buried his face deeper in the crook of her neck, and she felt the hot sting of his tears as they spilled onto her skin, sliding down to her chest and soaking into the fabric of her dress. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t move, just closed her eyes and rested her chin lightly on the top of his head while she held him, letting him cling to her, letting him fall apart in her arms.

Then, just as the moment began to settle, a knock at the door shattered it and Michael stiffened instantly, his entire body going tense against her.

He lifted his head from her shoulder, and the flicker of what looked like fear in his eyes made her chest tighten all over again. Swiping at his face with the back of his hand, he tried to pull himself together, while Lisa kept her arms firmly around him, her touch steady and grounding. She wanted him to understand that she was there for him and wasn’t going anywhere, no matter what…