CHAPTER 33

 

Chapter 33

 

The ice in Amelia’s glass shifted as she swirled the whiskey, the soft clinking filling the room while Michael watched the way her long, slender fingers curled around the ornate glass.

"I was really looking forward to this, you know…" She murmured, bringing the rim to her lips and taking a slow, measured sip while Michael nodded and smiled softly.

"Yeah, so did I… Seemed like a good idea when you suggested it. And I gotta say, I respect a woman who knows her whiskey. Not something you see too often."

Amelia smiled and reached for a caramelized cashew from the crystal dish on the table. She rolled it between her fingers, almost absentmindedly, before slipping it between her lips while Michael set his glass down, his gaze flicking away, fingers tapping lightly against his knee.

"And yeah…" He added after a beat. "Life does get lonely. Like you mentioned."

Amelia tilted her head slightly, and for a second, he could swear she was sizing him up… like a puzzle she was eager to piece together, or take apart.

"So… Lisa Marie is back in the States now? I thought she'd stick around a little longer."

Michael hesitated, his grip tightening just a fraction around the glass before he gave a slow nod, like he didn’t really want to admit it…even to himself.

"Yeah. She… uh, she had to go back. Left two days after the awards." He took another sip, let the silence stretch, then cleared his throat. "But it wasn’t just that. We, uh… we also had a bit of a misunderstanding…"

"What happened?"

"Doesn’t matter. I don’t want to talk about it…"

"Oh, come on… you can tell me."

Michael exhaled, frowning a little before his gaze met hers.

"Lisa saw your email, jumped straight to some wild-ass conclusions, and… well, you can probably guess how that turned out." He sighed and gave a dismissive wave, like the whole thing was barely worth mentioning and Amelia’s brows lifted, a flicker of surprise in her eyes.

"Blimey! I’m so sorry… Wait… how did she even see my email?" She paused, then shook her head. "No, never mind that… Do you want me to… I don’t know, talk to her? Should I try to…"

Before she could finish whatever she was about to offer, a sudden vibration rattled against the wooden table, slicing through the tension and they both glanced down before Michael’s eyes locked onto the name glowing on Amelia’s phone.

Maxwell.

He watched her as she grabbed the phone and stared at the screen for a moment, lips pressing together, then, without a word, declined the call and set the phone back down… this time, face down.

"You’re not gonna get that?" Michael asked, watching her and Amelia sighed, then gave a half-eye roll, and tapped her fingers against her glass, her gaze drifting somewhere else in the room.

"Not really in the mood for a marital check-in right now."

Michael narrowed his eyes slightly but then he reached for the bottle, tilting it toward her in silent question and she nodded. He refilled her glass, then leaned back against the couch, biting his lower lip, thinking.

"You can use my study if you need to call him back… Privacy and all that."

But Amelia shook her head.

"That won’t be necessary." Her fingers traced the rim of her glass, slow and thoughtful, before she spoke again. "Marriages are complicated…" Her voice had softened and she lifted her eyes again, pinning him with a look. "You of all people should know that."

Michael didn’t answer. Just took another sip, letting the whiskey burn its way down, his gaze steady on her while she reached for another cashew, chewing on her lip as if weighing something in her mind before popping it into her mouth.

"I’d hate to bore you with my frustrations, but it’s just that I was quite young when I married Maxwell." Her voice trailed off, distant, more like she was talking to herself than to him. "Very young, really. He was older, and at the time, I saw him as someone I could lean on, almost like a father figure. He made me feel safe, like I could trust him completely. I thought that would be enough."

Michael tilted his head slightly, listening, his gaze never leaving her face as she looked down for a moment, her shoulders slumping just a bit.

"Then, five years in, we got divorced… And ten years later, we ran into each other again. And wouldn’t you know it, there was still something there. Or at least, that’s what we thought." She lifted the glass to her lips, hesitated, then set it down slowly without drinking. "Bit of a mistake, really. We got married again, thinking we knew better. Turns out, we didn’t."

Then, Amelia turned to him, her lips pulling into what looked like a bittersweet smirk.

"Bit like you and Lisa, innit? You were married. Got divorced. And now…" Her gaze flicked over him. "You’re back together."

Michael’s fingers tightened around his glass, condensation making it slick against his skin and he closed his eyes briefly, the sting of her comparison making his stomach turn. Was that where they were headed too? Ignoring each other’s calls and venting to whoever would listen?

"When it doesn’t work the first time, it never will." She added and her tone was matter-of-fact, as if she was stating some universal truth, and Michael exhaled sharply, huffing out something between a laugh and a scoff before tossing back the rest of his whiskey. The liquid burned all the way down and he set the glass down a little harder than he meant to, then raked a hand through his hair.

What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

“I dunno…” He muttered, shrugging, his voice rough. “With Lisa, it’s like the harder we try, the worse it actually gets. One minute, we’re in love, and the next, we’re at each other’s throats… And I’m drained, honestly. This back and forth is wearing me out. Is this how it’s supposed to be? Are all relationships like this? A constant battle?”

The room felt like a sauna, the air thick, making even the smallest movements feel like a chore, and Michael tugged at his collar, hoping for some relief, while Amelia shifted in her seat, mirroring his discomfort.

“But you both looked so utterly perfect at the awards. The way you kissed her, and that speech... It’s so hard to fathom that you’d have any issues at all, truly.”

"Yeah, well… I was so excited to see her..." He swallowed, shifting slightly. "I missed her so much, but it all went to hell pretty quickly. The speech? Well, that was just me trying to get Lisa to crack even the smallest smile, but, of course, that didn’t work… She was in a foul mood all night. And then, later that night, she stormed into my study while I was tucking the kids in, saw your email, and, well... boy, oh boy, did she fucking lose it. Accused me of cheating on her… books flying, the keyboard flying, yelling, tears… it was like a tornado hit. Freaking insane. I have a low tolerance for temper tantrums in general and with Lisa, it’s always like stepping into a minefield… one wrong move, and everything explodes."

Amelia stared at him, eyes wide with what looked like a mix of shock and concern but also something else he couldn’t quite place.

“Whoa... that’s... Bloody hell, I had no idea. I’m really sorry, Mike. You sure you don’t want me to have a word with her? I can tell her that…”

“No, no, it’s okay... really.” Michael huffed, cutting her off before she could even finish. “I guess it’s just one of those things. We’ll see what happens, right?”

"Relationships are tricky, aren’t they? You’re not the only one dealing with that." She smiled, shaking her head lightly. "Maxwell and I have our fair share of problems too. But at the end of the day, I love him. I really do. More than anything and I don’t want to lose him…"

Michael’s eyes snapped up, narrowing as he studied her, looking for even the slightest trace of any insincerity…

Nothing…

Shit!

Had he gotten this all wrong?!

He had spent the past two hours watching her, listening to every single word and waiting for some kind of signal, some slip, some confirmation or some unguarded moment that proved she had been after him all along but… there was nothing.

 

 

He had pushed the door open, and there she was… Lisa, standing stiff as a board in front of his computer, staring at the screen like she had just seen a puppy murder scene unfold right before her eyes.

Her mouth was slightly open, lips parted as if she had started to say something but forgot how to speak and he could see she didn’t even blink, just stood there, frozen in the glow of the screen.

When she heard him, her head snapped up, her expression shifting from stunned silence to something else entirely.

“Lisa?”

She didn’t answer, didn’t move and just kept looking at him like he was the world’s biggest idiot and like she was seconds away from either exploding or throwing something straight at his head.

And for a split second, he had to rewind.

What the hell had he left open on that computer that got her looking like she was about to throw up and then kill him right after?

His mind flicked back to earlier that night, sitting at that very desk when Blanket had come padding into the room, rubbing his eyes.

“Daddy…” He had whined, clutching at the hem of his PJs. “I had a bad dream.”

Michael looked at him and pushed his chair back.

“C’mere, buddy.”

Blanket didn’t hesitate, almost running to him and crawling into his lap, his little arms wrapping around his waist like a koala and Michael smoothed a hand over his back, rubbing slow circles, feeling the way Blanket’s tiny frame trembled slightly.

“What was it about?”

“There was this… big dog, but it wasn’t a dog. It had… like, eight legs. And it talked.” Blanket buried his face into Michael’s chest, muffling the rest of his words and Michael huffed a quiet laugh.

“Okay, yeah, that’s pretty creepy.” He kept rubbing Blanket’s back, running his fingers through his messy hair. “But you know what? It was just a dream. You’re safe. I’m here and Lisa’s here and so are your brother and sister. And we would never let some weird spider-dog get you. No way.”

Blanket looked up at him and smiled. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Can you tuck me in again, please?”

“Of course…” Michael picked him up without hesitation, holding him close as he carried him back to his room, whispering silly little nonsense about how he would put a force field around his bed or train a real-life monster to scare off any bad dreams.

He put Blanket in bed, then pulled the sheets up to his chin, smoothed a hand over his hair one last time, and stayed there with him until he fell asleep.

And now, standing in the doorway, Michael realized what he had forgotten.

Oh, shit.

He had been reading Amelia’s email before Blanket came to the room…

His stomach clenched as Lisa took a slow, deep breath and turned her full attention to him, arms crossing tight over her chest.

“Baby…” He started, but she just narrowed her eyes, and holy hell, if looks could kill…

“You wanna fill me in on a thing or two?”

Michael swallowed. “Lisa, it’s…”

“Because from where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot like your girl Amelia is just dying to get you alone again.”

He took a step forward, but the way she tensed made him rethink closing the space between them and instead, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.

“Listen… It’s… it’s nothing…. I… ”

“Oh, right. Just nothing.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "Well, that 'nothing' sure made her day, didn't it? Or more like her night, right?"

Michael clenched his jaw, then, deciding this was a ‘rip-the-band-aid’ moment, he took a deep breath and stepped closer.

“Lise… You gotta let me finish at least one sentence, okay? Then I’ll explain, promise!"

“Don’t ‘Lise’ me.”

He grabbed her hand anyway, ignoring the way she stiffened.

“Listen to me. I’m telling you, nothing happened. Nothing’s ever happened.”

Her lips pressed into a tight line, eyes locked onto his as he kept going…

“Look, she came over once to go through some promotional photos. She poured herself a drink without asking. And yeah, we ended up having two glasses of whiskey.”

“Oh, that’s just sweet...”

“Lisa…”

“No, no, please, go on… Tell me more about how your dear friend Amelia made herself comfortable at your place.”

“Baby…” Michael let out a frustrated sigh. “I didn’t even offer. She’s just… bold. She just stood up, poured herself one, then started talking about the contract and in the end, she insisted we celebrate with one more. That’s all.”

“That’s all…”

“Yes… and I should have told you. I know that.”

“But you didn’t.”

Michael sighed, squeezing her hand gently before leading her to the small sofa in the corner of the room.

“C’mere… let’s sit down.” He said and Lisa hesitated but eventually let him guide her down. “How are you feeling?”

“Don’t deflect.”

Michael sighed and knelt in front of her, hands massaging hers, rubbing slow, reassuring circles into her palms as he let out a small sigh, giving her a look that was equal parts tired and amused, waiting for her answer.

“I’m… I’m feeling much better.” She admitted a few moments later and he let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s good. Still nauseated?”

“Nah. Not really. Guess I needed that sleep.”

“Good. You got me worried there…” With a quiet sigh, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, looking up at her. “Lisa, listen to me. I love you. I don’t care about her or any other woman… You’re it for me. You always have been. I never want you to question that for even a second.”

She took a deep breath.

“She’s really pretty.”

Michael groaned, exasperated. “Lise, c’mon…”

“She is! She’s gorgeous. And successful. And clearly interested in you…”

“Okay, sure, she’s…not ugly but who cares?” He reached up, cupping her cheek, thumb stroking her skin. “She’s not you. No one else is. I’m so ridiculously in love with you that no one else stands a chance.”

He saw Lisa exhale slowly, before her own hands reached up to gently cup his cheeks. Her smile was soft, and for a moment, he could see the tension melt away from her face.

“If you’re saying nothing happened, then nothing happened. I trust you. It’s just…” She trailed off, biting her lip. “When I met her last night, I can’t explain it. Something about her…”

Michael nodded, his hands sliding down to her knees, then up to her thighs.

“Yeah. I know what you mean… She makes me feel a bit weird too.” Michael said and bit his lower lip. “When I came here, everyone recommended her to me, so I checked out her resume and honestly, it was insane… She was the best… smart, professional, everything you’d want. She was perfect… until that night.”

“She wants you.”

Michael frowned, then nodded. “Maybe. It’s subtle. Hard to tell if I’m reading into it or if she’s actually trying something. Just like her stupid email. Could be innocent. Could not be. But either way, there won’t be any more whiskey nights, that’s for fucking sure… Over my dead body.”

Lisa was quiet for a moment, then smirked, tilting her head while her hand moved gently to his hair, brushing it away from his face, and he felt himself leaning into her soft touch, closing his eyes for a second.

“Actually…I don’t think another whiskey night is such a bad idea… If we want to know what she’s up to.”

He opened his eyes and his eyebrows sprung up…

 

 

And so here he was, baiting the woman sitting next to him on the couch, topping off her whiskey and hoping to catch her in the act… hand in the cookie jar… or down his pants.

But…

But the conversation had been pretty much normal. Friendly. She never actually said anything out of line, and as for her glances… maybe they were flirty, but maybe that was just how she looked. In the end, he couldn't pinpoint anything that would suggest Amelia wanted anything from him.

Damn, maybe she had meant every word of that email at face value… Maybe she really was just being a friend and maybe he was the only asshole here, sitting in his own living room, whiskey in his blood, trying to set her up so that he could fire her in case she really did try to hit on him…

Christ, was he really that full of himself?

He had taken that one night of drinks and conversation about the photos and turned it into some grand conspiracy, as if he was so fucking irresistible and so damn important that she couldn’t help herself around him.

His mouth tightened.

What a fucking douchebag he was…

“Hey…” Amelia’s voice lilted playfully, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Did I ever tell you I can read palms?” 

“What?”

"I’m quite good at it…" She grinned. "Here, let me show you. It’s fun. You know, with the kind of job I have, you need ways to unwind... and this one is mine."

Before Michael could argue, she kicked off her heels and shifted onto her knees, scooting closer, reaching for his hand without hesitation and he let her take it, mostly out of surprise.  Her fingers were warm as they curled around his own while her thumb brushed along his palm, tracing the lines with soft strokes, her touch lingering in places.

Michael watched her biting her lower lip, eyes focused, looking like she was truly reading something there…

“Uh, Amelia…”

“Shh…” She let out. “Let me do my work.”

She traced his palm with her fingers, reading the lines with a calm and focused expression while her hands moved slowly, gently massaging his hand as she examined it, looking completely absorbed in the task.

“Don’t worry…” She said softly, a playful giggle slipping out. “If I find anything bad, I’ll just make something up. I mean, who wants bad news anyway, right? I’ve got you covered.”

He let out a laugh, shaking his head.

God, he was such an idiot!

It really was all in his head! Watching Amelia now, he could see that it was just a friendly, casual connection. Geez, how could he have possibly thought she was scheming, seducing him?

She was too smart for that anyway. Too put together. And she had a damn good career and a handsome husband who she said she still loved.

Michael let out a slow breath and forced himself to relax.

“Alright, fine. I’m all ears, what do you see there?”

Amelia looked up and grinned.

“Well, for starters, this line here?” She traced over a long crease. “Success, obviously. I can clearly see it right here… A new palace with a moat full of goldfish, a personal chef who only cooks with gold flakes, and a crew to hand-feed you grapes while you lounge in a velvet robe.”

“That’s not exactly a fortune-telling stretch. Been there, done that.” Michael let out a laugh and Amelia laughed too, shaking her head, her eyes rolling slightly.

“Alright, fine, how about this one?” Her finger moved. “You’re going to have lots and lots of children.”

Michael let out another low laugh. “That’s hardly future-telling either, I already do! Amelia, I hate to tell you, but you’re not very good at this.”

“Hey!!” She objected but giggled again. “And yes, but you might have more children.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m not so sure about that.”

“Michael!” Amelia looked up at him and frowned a little. “Will you let me finish for the love of God?”

“By all means…” He said, grinning as he motioned for her to go on and watched as Amelia squinted again, her index finger tracing another line on his palm.

Her touch was soft, moving up and down the line in a slow, deliberate motion, and for some reason, Michael suddenly felt the need to clear his throat.

“How about this one?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Health…” She mumbled without looking up. “This one’s about your vitality... your physical well-being.”

“And?”

“It’s... it’s good…” She said, her tone almost thoughtful. “Strong. You’ve got solid energy here. Looks like you’re gonna be healthy for a long time.”

Michael smiled, a little pleased, even though he knew palm readings were total crap but he couldn’t help noticing how her finger lingered on his palm now, like she was really soaking it in.

And it felt nice and comforting … until it didn’t.

Suddenly, her touch stopped feeling casual, suddenly it wasn’t just a soft brush anymore…

The heat from her fingertips started feeling like it was burning right through him, and all of a sudden, Michael wanted nothing but her hands off him.

But Amelia didn’t stop.

She kept going, her voice low and almost a little too serious for his liking.

“I don’t even need to read it off your palm, Mike.” She paused, her eyes glancing up at him, as a knowing smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “You’ve got a strong physique. You’re lean and you take care of yourself. You’ve got that... well, you’ve got that look.”

His throat went dry and he cleared it again.

"Uh... thanks… I guess I'm all good to go, then." He mumbled, trying to play it off, but her gaze lingered a little too long and Michael shifted uncomfortably before he tried to pull his hand back, but she didn’t let him.

Instead she glanced at his palm again, then traced one short line near the edge. Her expression shifted slightly.

“Ah…” She murmured. “This… Well, this is the love line... yours is... um, short..."

"Huh?"

“It means you’ll have short relationships.”

"Well, that’s not exactly a shocker." He said trying to make light of it and she chuckled before she let go of his hand, turning her own palm to face him. Her movements were slow and somehow more purposeful than before.

"See? I’ve got the same thing. I’ve always thought it’s just telling me to keep things... interesting, you know…”

He was staring at her now, completely puzzled.

Well… So much for assuming she was just being friendly. The shift was so sudden, he felt like he had skipped a few pages in the script.

“And maybe...” She continued.  “Maybe it’s a sign we’re not even supposed to have long-lasting relationships. Maybe we're supposed to live freely, enjoy the here and now, and embrace every opportunity as it comes… Maybe that includes tonight, Michael.”

His entire body tensed, the light mood vanishing altogether in an instant while Amelia’s fingers curled around his again, massaging his palm, but now it felt different, sly and almost calculated… Her face hovered inches from his, her breath warm and laced with whiskey as it ghosted over his cheek while her fingers traced the lines in his skin as if testing the waters before her voice dropped to a sultry whisper.

“Looks like fate’s trying to tell us something and maybe we’re not supposed to fight it.”

His lips parted, but no words came out and Amelia leaned in closer.

"Let’s give in to it…" Her breath was warm against his ear as she whispered those words, her scent so intoxicating it clouded his mind. Her seductive voice made it clear she knew exactly how to play him and he had to give her credit… she was damn good at it. "We both know what’s happening here. I can see it in the way you look at me... and trust me, what you want is exactly what I want too."

Then she cupped his face and kissed him, soft at first but when he didn’t react, she didn’t pull away and instead she pressed in, moaning softly against his still mouth.

"Ah, Michael…" She breathed against his lips. "Don’t fight it… I know you want me."

And something inside him snapped. Everything screamed to push her away, to rip himself from her grasp, but he didn’t.

Not yet.

Not when he finally had the perfect opportunity to know for sure and his hands shot up, gripping her face, yanking her in, kissing her hard and the moment his lips crashed into hers, Amelia gasped and then moaned against his mouth, her fingers fisting into his shirt, pulling him closer.

"Is this really what you want?” He mumbled against her lips, pulling back just enough to speak.

“Yes!”

“Is this what you wanted all along?" His eyes burned into hers. "You really wanted me, didn’t you?"

Amelia nodded without hesitation, her breaths coming fast.

"Yes... yes!" She panted, lips brushing his between words. "I knew you wanted it too... You’re just brilliant at hiding it, playing all hard to get. I’ll give you that, darling."

Something cold curled in his gut, even as he kept kissing her and even as his fingers dug into her waist.

"I wasn’t sure…" He groaned, biting her lip lightly, drawing another needy moan from her. "Was this what you wanted, even that first night? When you came over to talk about the photos?"

"Yes..." She panted, her chest rising and falling fast. "I wanted you so much... I knew you’d be mine eventually."

He let out a rough laugh, low and almost casual, almost real before he kissed her again.

"So the photos were just a decoy, huh?" He asked, making sure his tone stayed light and teasing and then, without warning, he grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in for another deep kiss, his lips moving fiercely against hers.

“Uh huh…” She moaned into his mouth and her hands started unbuttoning his shirt like she was desperate for more. “When it comes to you, a girl needs a bit of a pretext to get you all to herself, doesn’t she?"

And there it was.

The truth.

He didn’t need more…

Michael wrenched back like he had been burned and in one sharp motion, he shoved Amelia away, putting as much distance between them as possible.

She blinked, chest heaving, her pupils wide with confusion.

"What? What are you doing?"

But Michael was already moving. He shoved off the couch, pushing to his feet like her touch had left something toxic on his skin, something he would never be able to scrub away and he quickly wiped his lips, trying to get rid of the taste before he forced the mask back on… forced the ice to take over.

When he turned, his face was carved from stone.

"You’ll be handing in your resignation letter tomorrow…" His voice was calm, too calm. "You’ll say you’ve got too many obligations and are worried you wouldn’t be able to fulfill your commitments as my publicist, and I’ll accept it."

She stared, then opened her mouth… and then closed it.

Michael watched as she tried to piece together a puzzle that had just been blown to bits right in front of her.

"But…"

"No. We’re done… People like you have circled me my whole damn life." His voice cut like a blade. "And I let too many slip through the cracks. But not this time. Not anymore. I see you now for what you are, and I don’t keep that kind of filth around."

The moment the words left his mouth, he saw it.

The shift.

Her lips parted, as if to argue or to plead, but then… click. Something locked back into place and her spine straightened, her chin lifted, and the short-lived uncertainty vanished like it had never been there at all.

Amelia stood, slow and measured, like she was the one looking down on him now.

"Oh, you think you’re so bloody smart…" She growled. "Don’t kid yourself, darling. You looked like you were about to come in your pants every time you saw me, so this little ‘disgusted’ act is bollocks and we both know it."

His stomach clenched, but his face didn’t crack. Not an inch.

"Leave, Amelia." His voice dropped, final and merciless. "And don’t bother bringing the resignation yourself. Send it with a messenger or some shit. I never want to see you again."

A muscle in her jaw ticked, and then a slow, sharp scoff cut through the air between them.

"Oh, fuck off." Her British accent twisted the words into something even more cutting and dismissive. "You could only dream of fucking someone like me."

She grabbed her phone and her bag, and stormed out, the door slamming so hard it rattled the frame making Michael flinch and his shoulders jerk at the impact.

He cleared his throat… paced… cracked his neck…flexed his hands. Something… anything to release the tension gripping every muscle in his body like a vice.

What a fucking nightmare…

Could he ever get a goddamn break?

Michael poured himself another shot and downed it before he slammed the glass back onto the coffee table.

Okay, that was enough whiskey for one night…

His hand hovered over his phone for a second before he grabbed it, fingers fumbling slightly as he found Lisa’s number and pressed call.

He needed to hear her voice so bad and needed to tell her what happened. Needed to tell her she was right.

It rang. Twice. Three times. Five. Ten.

Nothing.

“Come on, baby, pick up…” He mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face but when the call finally cut to voicemail, he swore under his breath and tossed the phone onto the couch beside him before leaning forward, elbows on his knees, fingers dragging through his already messy hair…

 

 

 

After Lisa had come up with that twisted little plan to set Amelia up and clued him in on the details, they had gone back upstairs.

Lisa’s flight was at nine in the morning, and the airport was a bit of a drive from his place so they didn’t have much time left, but neither of them had even considered sleeping… Michael was wide awake and Lisa seemed to be too…

They showered together, wrapped in warmth and whispered touches and even as they toweled each other dry, their hands never stopped roaming and their lips never strayed too far.

And then they ended up in bed, naked and wrapped up in each other like they always did... Lisa had said she felt better, but he was still worried and a bit hesitant to go too crazy on her and so Michael moved to sit leaning against the headboard with her warm body straddled over his lap, her arms loose around his neck and her breath soft against his skin…

His hands traced slow patterns along her back as she moved slowly against him, her warmth seeping into his bones, soothing him, unraveling him… He was inside her, buried so deep he felt like he was losing himself while the moonlight spilled in through the window and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath shaky, his arms locked tight around her waist as if he could keep her there forever. Lisa held him just as fiercely, her fingers gently threading through his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp as she ground her hips against him gently, drawing low, ragged sounds from his throat.

He didn’t want to let this moment slip away and so he did everything possible to drag it out, to make it last.

Every slow thrust, every broken breath, every whispered word, Michael took it all in and when their breaths grew heavier and heavier, and the heat between them built to the point of no return, he clenched his jaw and held onto her, whispering her name over and over between choked moans.

“Lise… ah… baby…”

“Ah, god… Michael… hold me.” She whispered, lips brushing against his temple and for the first time in forever, Michael felt like everything in his life was exactly where it was supposed to be…

 

 

The sharp buzz of his phone against his thigh jolted him back to the present.

Lisa.

Thank God…

He snatched the phone up, answering it before the second ring.

“Hey, beautiful… ” He said, exhaling, relief washing over him like a tide. “You got a minute, or is this a bad time?”

“No, no, all good…” She said. “I just… sorry… I couldn’t pick up earlier. So… how’d it go?”

“Um… turns out you were right, Lise. She really had an agenda.”

“Hmmm… I knew it…” Lisa replied, but there was no real satisfaction in her tone. It was flat, almost indifferent and Michael frowned, sitting up straighter, his grip tightening on the phone.

“Yeah, at first, she almost had me fooled. Two whole hours and nothing. Just singing her husband’s praises and going on about how we’re the perfect couple. She played it real smooth… But then… I don’t know, I guess she got tired of waiting.”

Silence.

He shifted uncomfortably. “You still there?”

“Yeah…” Lisa said, but it didn’t really sound like she was listening.

“Right… well, anyway… she’s gone. I fired her.”

“That’s… that’s good… Hopefully, she won’t cause trouble.” Lisa said and Michael scoffed.

“Oh, to hell with her. She can try, and I’ll take her to the damn cleaners. I’ll bury her so deep in lawsuits she won’t even remember what daylight looks like.”

Lisa chuckled, but it was half-hearted at best and Michael got up and started pacing, straining to pick up on any background noise, anything that might tell him where she was.

Maybe she wasn’t somewhere she could talk freely and maybe she was distracted. Maybe…

“But, baby, there’s one more thing.” Michael added, licking his lips and swallowing hard. He had to tell her everything. “I… I had to kiss her. I’m sorry.”

More silence.

“It was the only way to know…” He added quickly. “To see if she’d…”

“Hmmm.”

“Lisa?”

“I… I get it…” She said, her voice still distant. “It’s fine.”

“Baby, are you okay? What’s going on… you sound…”

“Nothing, nothing… I’m fine. I just…” She let out a breath. “Michael, I’m sorry. Can I call you back tomorrow? Danny just brought the kids and we need to…”

His stomach twisted.

Damn…

“Oh…um, okay. Hey, Lise, wait…”

But she was already talking over him. “I really gotta go… I’ll talk to you soon, I promise.”

“Wait, wait… you’re still coming next week, right? Did you book the flight? Do you need me to…”

“Oh, about that… I might, uh… I might fly in a few days later than I thought.”

“What? Why?”

"I… it’s really not a big deal. I’ll explain later, okay? Shoot, sorry… I really gotta go."

“Lisa, wait…”

Click.

The line went dead and he held the phone in his hand, his grip tightening as the silence filled the space and then with a heavy sigh, he mumbled…

"Well, I love you and can’t wait to see you, girl."