Mister Nobody – Part 16 | All this time I lived vicariously

When he finally closed the door to Paris’ bedroom behind his back, Michael’s head was spinning.

He walked over to the living area quietly, noticing that it was deserted and quiet. Dark. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he also discovered that it was almost two in the morning. Where had time gone? He had been locked in his daughter’s room for hours, taking a break every now and then just to drink some water and go out for a few minutes, needing some fresh air. On the other hand, Paris had always stubbornly refused to leave her room.

The rest of the family had quietly followed his every move, not daring to bother him, noticing his thoughtful and somber expression and elusive stance. Michael vaguely remembered Janet’s worried eyes as she observed him from the couch, where she sat with Blanket, trying to watch a movie. His calm, taciturn youngest son had just shot him a concerned look. Lisa was nowhere to be seen, and it had occurred to Michael that maybe she had decided to just take a step back and let him deal with the issue on his own terms.

At one point, Prince had joined him outside and had just stood next to him for a few minutes. They both had gazed up at the starry sky. The night was clear and cool. Then Prince had wrapped his arm around his father’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, dad. She’s not always like this, you know? It’s just… I don’t know, I am not sure that woman’s good for her. She confuses her a lot. But you know Paris… She is very sensitive. She needs stability in her life. Maybe that’s what Debbie does… she gives Paris the impression she can have that.”

Michael had scoffed, shaking his head and trying to hold his tongue. He didn’t want to speak ill of anyone.

There had never been anything normal or even remotely healthy in his relationship with his on-paper second wife. He was aware of that. And for the life of him, he could not fathom how he ever thought it could be any different. The truth had been in front of his eyes right from the start, but for the longest time he had refused to face it. Although the endgame – his kids – had been so rewarding, the price to pay had also been high on so many levels. And so many people had been burned in the process.

Everything had crumbled following that one single unfortunate decision, domino piece by domino piece. For a very long time, Michael had blamed it all on Lisa – because her sending him the darn divorce papers had been an idiotic and childish move. However, Lisa had never forced him to accept Debbie’s offer while they were still married and, supposedly, trying to patch things up. That was on him, and it had been foolish more than naïve. Michael had justified himself by saying that he had never cheated on Lisa – since he had never slept with Debbie – but had failed, or avoided, to consider the emotional toll that his actions had caused to the only woman he loved. That one decision had generated a series of events and consequences that had brought them all in their current predicament. Now that his semi-divine bubble had burst and he had become just as mortal as anybody else, it was as if the blinders had been ripped off his eyes. He could see what he had been once unable to see: every action had reactions and repercussions, good and bad.

“But she’ll be OK eventually…” Prince had exhaled a long breath. “Just give her time. Even this whole… situation is new for her.”

Michael knew his son was talking about Lisa. The situation.

“Prince… If everything goes the way it’s supposed to go, I’ll be able to give you all the best kind of normalcy I can.”

“Oh, I know that. I just want you to know that I’m happy you’re back with Lisa now. If anything, I know it’ll be a huge opportunity for us to see you more often, since she’s gonna be a great buffer for the press. But I also know you love her, dad. I know how much you wanted to be with her and I can see how happy she makes you. You were so lonely…” Prince had turned to look at him. “…And I can also tell how much you make her happy. I remember her, you know? From when I was little…”

Michael’s gaze had dropped.

“Yeah… I know you do.”

He remembered, too, every single detail. As a matter of fact, Lisa had been around his kids more than Debbie had ever done. The difference was that she had never bragged about it.

He still recalled the motherly affection that Lisa had always shown toward Prince and Paris first, and then Blanket. She was such a natural with kids – it didn’t matter how shitty their relationship could get at times. Even in their worst moments, even when she and Michael were crumbling under the pressure of their respective broken promises and disillusions, Lisa had always been nothing but excellent around his children. He knew she loved them sincerely and his heart constricted in his chest thinking about how much he had wanted to raise them with her. How much he had wanted those kids to be theirs, his and Lisa’s. If only they had managed to handle things differently. Well… It was pointless now. It was too late.

“She was always very nice to us all.”

“Yes. Yes, she was.”

Sadly, Paris didn’t seem to share her brother’s opinion. She had told Michael that she vaguely remembered Lisa but that one recollection she had, was of her dad suffering because of her. He suspected it was a constructed memory, possibly suggested and incepted by someone else. He and Lisa had always been careful around his kids – or hers, for that matter. They had never, ever fought or argued in their presence. Plus, he had never shared his heartbreak about Lisa or his longing for her with his children. They were way too young to understand and he was too introverted to share such intimate thoughts. Especially in his worst times, when those thoughts would make him feel weak and powerless. And those were two attributes he had never liked to be associated with.

Michael had tried to explain that to Paris, but at first she had stubbornly refused to listen, repeating that she knew that Lisa had broken his heart and that nothing else mattered. Which was only partly true. What was also true was that Lisa had always been able to mend what was broken. And that he too had shattered her dreams and her heart again and again, only to go back and try to make it right time after time.

That was how love worked. It was amazing and dangerous. It hurt and healed. It was a complicated feeling that could not be defined in such a blunt manner. Right now, he and Lisa had come full circle, and that was their starting point. Everything else would have to be left behind.

“Paris, I am sure you’re now old enough to understand that things are not always black or white. Lisa and I have spent many, many years of our lives together… In one way or another… and most of the things we have gone through are very private. Which means that nobody can speak vicariously for us. She and I are the only two people who know exactly what went on, so please believe me when I say that your idea that she was the root of all evil is totally misplaced.”

Paris has looked up at him with her big, bright blue eyes.

“But, dad! I don’t think she’s the root of all evil! In fact, I don’t hate her at all. I even like her a little bit. But mom told me what a mess she made of your life and how she abandoned you when you needed her the most, and –”

“Are you talking about the trial? The trial where Debbie decided to testify for the prosecution? After telling the police that I was a sociopath?”

All of a sudden, he had felt triggered and had snapped. He had regretted his sharp words immediately, but maybe it was time for his daughter to hear it for what it really was. Maybe some blinders had to come off, and any saintly veneer had to be dropped.

However, Paris hadn’t relented.

“Yeah. The same trial where Lisa refused to take the stand. Right? After breaking up with you because she feared those ridiculous, disgusting allegations would tarnish her reputation.”

The hurt in her eyes was apparent and, for a moment, Michael felt just like he had felt so many years earlier. Some people were so fucking good at twisting facts, giving their very personal interpretation of the truth.

His eyes had narrowed.

“Paris, Lisa didn’t take the stand because I asked Tom not to drag her into that mess. She was ready to. She was supposed to be a character witness. But then Tom and I decided that it was better if she stayed out of it. And just to be clear, she didn’t break up with me because of the trial. I did.”

“No, dad, you don’t remember! She broke up with you and told you she was indifferent, that she no longer loved you. And then suddenly she said she had feelings for you again, but only after you…”

“No, that’s not true.” He had slowly stood up, never breaking eye-contact. “I was the one breaking up with her after Sneddon went after me again. I was the one pushing her away. And yes, when I reached out to her after the trial, she told me that she was indifferent… But baby, you must understand that sometimes this is what people do to protect themselves. They step away. Because they wanna stop hurting or because they don’t know what else to do. Can we really judge them?”

“But mom told me –”

“Deb told you what she thinks happened. But it is not true, Paris.” He had paid particular attention to always refer to Debbie by her name, never acknowledging the term “mom” used by his daughter.

She has stayed quiet and had swallowed hard, furrowing her brow, trying to metabolize his words. She had grimaced, and Michael had sensed her profound confusion. He couldn’t blame her. He couldn’t be by her side every day, guiding her, and she needed a role model. Obviously, he thought that Debbie was not the right person for the job. She never had been.

They spent the following hours talking about his long history with Lisa and how Debbie’s presence had contributed to a long series of issues, both during and after his first marriage. He found himself fighting and systematically destroying a never-ending string of lies, misconceptions and assumptions regarding both himself and Lisa – courtesy of his second wife, a woman that he should have never married in the first place. A woman who was never supposed to become his wife to begin with.

He also decided to stop sugarcoating the reality of facts – something he had done a lot in the past, especially with Paris – and instead took a more direct approach. At this point, that was the only thing he could do. He only hoped that he would never fuck it all up again.

And so…

No, Lisa was not the reason why he and Debbie had divorced.

Yes, he and Lisa were still together as a couple during his marriage to Debbie and no, they had never been “just friends” at that time… nor afterward.

No, he had never considered being with Lisa as cheating on Debbie.

No, he had never slept with Debbie, despite what she told Paris about it. And yes, of course, he was sure.

No, Debbie had not pushed him to go to rehab. Lisa and Liz, Paris’ godmother, had.

Yes, there were serious reasons why, at one point, he hadn’t wanted to be associated with Debbie any longer.

Yes, he truly loved Lisa and wanted to be with her. Both back then and now.

And so on, and on, and on.

The long conversation also helped Michael realize that he had never spoken to Paris about Lisa after his “Day Zero”. Not even when he had learned that his baby girl had started to visit Debbie with a relative frequency. At that time, he had tried to express his doubts to her, but Paris had been adamant in her decision to keep seeing her birth mother. He had eventually decided just to avoid the subject and let her do her own thing. How could he intrude anyway? What right did he have, after what had happened? How could he expect to be still the North star guiding his daughter when, in fact, he could only watch from the sidelines? That was his burden to carry, not Paris’, nor Prince’s or Blanket’s. He could not expect Paris to do what he told her without having his uninterrupted guidance and undivided attention.

He knew well that his disappearance had ultimately turned him into the last thing he had ever wanted to be for his kids: a part-time father. A sorta-kinda dad. Of course, things could be worse. His children could hate him. And it was the fear of Paris hating him that had prompted him not to oppose her in her decision. In retrospect, maybe it had been a stupid move.

Hours later, as he walked over to the kitchen and poured himself a whiskey, Michael replayed the entire conversation in his mind. He sipped his drink quietly, his gaze unfocused, the last hours spinning a loop in his mind, like a broken record.

He knew that Paris didn’t like that Lisa had the opportunity to spend more time with him than his children. Having the chance to maneuver himself freely in the world like he once had, he would have spent every day of his life both with his kids and the woman he loved. But that was no longer an option, and a compromise would have to do.

He was not sure, but it was also possible that Paris’ jealous streak a reaffirmation of the possessiveness she would show when she was still just a little girl. Even back then, she had never liked the women gravitating around her dad.

She was now a teenager, and in theory she had the tools to understand that his father was also a man. That he had the right to have a loving partner by his side. However, no woman would ever rob Paris of his love and attention. At least, this would have been the perfect explanation in ideal circumstances.

Only, the current circumstances were anything but ideal – and maybe Paris’ possessiveness ran on a much more profound, subconscious level that stemmed from insecurity.

But again, it was not even her fault. She, too, was a victim of the events that had led to June 2009. Just like Prince, Blanket, the rest of his family. And Lisa. Each and every one of them had been forced to sacrifice something to be with him again. Or without him.

“Goddamnit. Fuck!”

Michael cursed under his breath and poured himself another drink. He felt exhausted, worn out. After hours of heart-wrenching talk, he was pretty sure that he had been able to calm his little girl and give her some reassurance about their future. Maybe even some closure on their past. Eventually, Paris had broken down and had melted into his arms, sobbing.

“I’m sorry, daddy… I’m sorry I was so mean to you…”

Well, she had been kind of mean to almost everyone, but hey, that was a start…

He had just caressed her hair, gently shushing her and kissing the top of her head.

“It’s OK. It’s OK, baby. Dad’s here now.”

Those words had generated another loud sob and he had felt her tremble in his arms. He had wished with every fiber of his being to just absorb her pain into himself and make it go away forever.

“I love you, Paris. And I’m never going to leave you again. I promise.”

His lips pressed against her hair, he had felt utterly powerless. That was the only thing he could say, the only thing he felt sincere and honest. He was not going to let his kids slip away from him any longer.

“I’m sorry I called you fat…” Paris had hiccupped against his vest, and Michael had giggled.

“Well, you should be. I’m not fat.”

She had patted his taut stomach, chuckling between the tears.

“I know. I was just being a stupid tease. Actually, I’ve never seen you look this good.”

He had rocked her into his arms, not wanting to let her go.

“Alright. Can we get over this? Stop messing with your old man…”

“I’m not! Daddy…” That old term of endearment had melted him and, when she had backed off to glance up at him, he had just looked down at her quietly. “…It’s true. You look amazing. You’re like a superhero in disguise.”

“Com’ere, you nut.” He had pulled her back into his arms and had held her tight.

He had stayed with Paris until she had fallen asleep. Just like he would always do when she was a baby. His little princess. He had sat by the bed and had just talked and talked to her in a soothing voice, as she finally relaxed, her now eyes barely open.

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“…Can I keep seeing mom?”

Michael had sighed. It surprised him that she was now asking for his permission. The first time around she had merely expressed her intention, no questions allowed. He knew that he had to tread carefully.

“If you want. If it makes you happy. But please, if you still feel confused about what she says to you… Talk to me. If something doesn’t sound right, tell me. If you wanna know something, ask me. I’m here. Always. OK? You think you can do that, Paris?”

She had pondered over his question for a minute.

“Yeah… I think I can…”

“Good. And by the way, I’m glad she’s getting better.”

“I know.”

Eventually he had heard her breathing slow down and deepen and had finally allowed himself to take a long sigh of relief. Quietly, he had stroked his daughter’s hair one last time and had kissed her forehead. It all felt so familiar and so foreign at the same time.

Leaving Paris’ room, Michael had felt the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. While a part of him had felt relieved, witnessing the destruction of the emotional wall that separated him from his daughter, another part of him was utterly drained.

After gulping down the third drink in less than thirty minutes, he finally decided to call it a night and walked tiredly toward his bedroom.

When Michael entered the room, Lisa lifted her gaze from her journal and carefully placed the pen on the scribbled page. She tilted her head to a side and studied him, noticing how worn out and tired he looked.

“Hey,” she murmured sweetly.

Still lost in thought, he watched her for a few moments and then walked over to the desk she was sitting at. He crouched down and dropped his head, resting his forehead on her legs. When he felt her hands gently rest on his shoulders and her lips kiss the top of his head, he closed his eyes. Her breath, rhythmically caressing his hair, soothed him.

“You OK?”

“Ah… Not really, no.”

Another feathery kiss.

“How did it go?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Lisa’s cool fingers stroked his face and he sighed.

“Did she fall asleep?”

“Yeah… finally. She’s better now… I think.”

“That’s good.”

“You been here all night, waiting for me?”

He felt her smile. Her lips were still pressed against his head.

“Uh-uhm. You know I don’t like sleeping without you.”

Michael looked up and framed her face with both hands. His eyes were huge and reddened. Without a word, he pulled her head down and gently kissed her lips.

“Thank you.”

Lisa pulled back and studied him for a moment.

“For what? I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, you have done plenty. And you know what else I was thinking?”

“What else were you thinking, baby…”

“That I’ve got ten days to spend with my kids. I’ve never had that much time before, since… You know… only fleeting moments. All thanks to you. So, if I ever manage to unbreak what I broke with my absence, well… part of the credit will always be yours.”

She shook her head slightly.

“No, Michael. This has nothing to do with me. You’re an amazing father. You’re an incredible person and a wonderful dad, and they are good kids.”

The hint of sadness in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed, and he swallowed. He knew what she was thinking. He knew very well what regret tasted like. He exhaled a shaky breath and felt tears threatening to spill. He blinked, trying to push back the pain. Gosh… would it ever end?

“Lisa… Sometimes I’m just so lost. I just feel so very, very lost.”

She watched him with eyes full of love and concern and then kissed his forehead, his cheeks, his lips.

“You’re not lost. I found you. We’ve got you. You’re here now, with us. Here, with me. Baby…” She pulled back but kept her hands on his face, cradling it. “I know these last years have been so hard for you, and I also know you did your best. But it’s over now. You’re no longer on your own. You’re getting back what’s yours. I guess it won’t be exactly like you imagined it, but… It’s there if you want it. You watched your kids grow and tried to not interfere with their life… You observed me from afar until I crumbled under another disastrous marriage. You respectfully stayed away from everyone… But what about what you need, Mike? Take it. It’s yours. It’s always been yours. Don’t be afraid. You don’t have to be scared anymore.”

“You really think I can take it all back?”

“Well, maybe not all of it… But yeah, I do.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and took in a long breath, then rose onto his feet again.

Opening his eyes, he slowly started taking his clothes off as he stared at her. She was so beautiful, and her blue eyes were so bright and deep. They looked like oceans he could sink into without being afraid to drown. Staring into Lisa’s eyes felt like breathing underwater. And her words infused him with such peace that, for a moment, the tiredness that had threatened to break him just evaporated.

He removed his vest, tie, and shirt. Unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down. She observed him without a word, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly in an imperceptible smile. There was something so sexy in the way he took off his clothes. A rush of heat and desire invaded her, from her heart to her belly. Then lower, in between her legs.

How was it even possible? She had just had him. Only a few hours earlier, she had him in her hands, in her mouth. How could he manage to continually evoke such intense passion, physical need, lust? After so many years, whenever they were close, the only thing they felt was a complete, utter concupiscence driven by the profound love they had never been able to suppress. That was the reason why they could never be just friends. They had tried and failed more than once. Their only way to try to go on on their own had always been to be physically separated. And it never lasted for long anyway – the need still too intense.

For seven years, Lisa had desperately clung to the only thing that still made her feel physically close to him: her dreams. Too many times had she woken up flustered and desperate, lonely, frustrated and almost in pain, the warmth of his skin slipping away from her senses, her soul emptied and barren. While he, on the other side of the world, experienced the same feelings.

Michael breathed in and then exhaled, his chest rising and falling as he stood completely naked in front of her. He looked like an ancient god.

“Take your clothes off, Lise.”

His voice was low, calm but demanding. And it felt like a shock to her system.

She slowly rose from the chair and untied the knot of her robe, letting the garment slide on the floor. She wore one of his pajama tops and nothing else, and his eyes widened for a second, taking in her sight. To him, she had always been otherworldly beautiful – and no other woman could ever compare. And whenever she wore his clothes, his most primitive and alpha male part just inflated like an air balloon, making him feel proud and possessive, as if he was marking her his. However, any garment was superfluous at the moment.

“All of them…”

Lisa swallowed, and her fingers moved from button to button. Underneath the silk, there was nothing but naked skin.

Immediately, Michael took her into her arms and picked her up, as she entwined her fingers behind his neck and kissed him slowly. He walked over to the bed and sat down, still holding Lisa in his lap. They kissed and kissed, his hands roaming over the velvety skin of her back and her bottom, fisting in her long hair, moving over to her shoulders, then stroking her collarbone and the soft slope of her breasts, her nipples, in languid, seducing motions. His tongue still in her mouth, he reclined on the bed and covered them both with the sheets.

The contact of the cool satin with her naked skin made her shiver, and she pressed her chest down on his torso, her fingers now moving onto his head, entangling in his hair, stroking and caressing, her thumbs following the lines of his perfect jawbone.

Instinctively, his hips pushed up, the warm feeling of her wetness brushing against him and engulfing him like a cloud. Her kisses left a trail on his neck, on his throat, her soft lips in perfect contrast with the stubbly area near his Adam’s apple. He felt her tongue touch his skin and shivered, realizing how hard he already was, as her center slowly and rhythmically moved on him.

Lisa pulled back and watched him through hooded eyes. Pure, liquid blue floating in desire.

“Do you realize what you do to me, Michael?” Her tone had taken that slow drawl that would always make him lose his mind. “Do you have any idea what it does to me, to listen to your heartbeat, to hear your breath in my ear, to feel your skin, your hands on me? To feel you… all of you… in me…”

She kissed him again, her tongue sliding along his, her teeth nibbling at his bottom lip. His hands holding her, he pushed her down and against his steel. Every move slow and deliberate.

“Do you?” He let out a moan. “I can’t even handle myself around you. I don’t ever want to. You… Baby, you’re my safe place. I need you. I love you. I just want you to be mine.”

Passion. Love. Surprise. It all melted together, swirled and pounded into the most profound and most hidden corner of her soul. She thought that her heart would just explode and turn into stardust. Her nerve endings felt on fire. And her body reacted on autopilot, eager to let go at least some of that immense, overwhelming energy it felt infused with.

“I am…” Breathing hard, she caressed his body with her own. “…I am yours. All of me.”

She took his hands and held his arms over his head, their fingers interlacing. Such an intimate gesture to define the complete trust they had in one another.

He was so hard that no help was needed in sliding into her body. He simply surged up and entered her sweet tightness inch by inch, finding himself buried to the hilt.

“Holy shit… You are so fucking huge…” Lisa’s voice was labored, her breath ragged. She grinned, looking down at him. “…I don’t even know why it keeps surprising me.”

Michael’s answer was a smile so bright and warm that could have melted the polar cap.

Battling against his domineering instinct, he kept his arms still and let his hips do the job. Clenching his jaw and fighting the urge to pound hard into her, he kept his thrusts slow and dragged, focusing on her gasps and little moans. His half-closed eyes stayed fixed on her face, observing her parted lips, the small wrinkle in between her eyebrows when pleasure washed over her.

“Down, Mister…” Lisa admonished him with a breathless smile, and he chuckled, stilling his bold movements. “Let me be in charge for once…”

When she started to move, swaying and rotating her hips over him, he couldn’t suppress a groan. Their bodies locked and their eyes did the same.

“Baby… Oh shit… you ride me so well. There you go. You’re so tight and hot… you’re killing me…”

“Look at me…” Her panted whisper made his head spin. “I want you to look at me while I come for you…”

Michael blinked and pushed his hips up instinctively, making her cry out in surprise. He knew that he didn’t take orders well. The moment she started to shake, he kept his arms in place but gripped her fingers tighter, moving harder and faster inside of her, giving it to her just like he knew she liked it. It was something he could not control. The need was too strong and consuming, and his body acted on imperatives.

“Fuck…! Shit, Mike! …Oh, baby!”

Lisa threw her head back and moaned as his mouth closed on her nipple, his tongue stroking, his teeth biting the soft flesh. And then she surrendered, letting let go of his hands and grabbing his head, holding him against her breasts while she continued to shake and tingle. Her body closed in on him, squeezing him so tight that he thought he would pass out.

Michael took her by the hips and pulled her up, withdrawing from her in one swift motion, and she gasped, caught completely off guard. Her eyes opened, and she watched him in confusion and disbelief.

“Mike… What….”

He sat up, his eyes dark, his breath labored.

“Get on your hands and knees… and stand still. I’m gonna give it to you the way I want to… and you’re gonna like it.”

She swallowed and blinked, a new rush of heat invading her, then did as instructed without any further question. That was one of their favorite positions for making love, and she knew that he loved having a privileged view on her backside. More than anything else, she adored the fact that he would still find her so attractive after so many years.

“You ready, baby?” She felt his strong, warm hand on her waist as the other one caressed her in between her legs. She turned her head, looking at him over her shoulder.

“You’re such a bad boy… You know I am. I can’t wait for you to put it back in me…”

It was all the confirmation he needed. With one single, well-delivered thrust, Michael breached her again and she almost lost her balance. Then she braced herself for the ride and took everything he had to give, thrust after thrust. She knew how his mind operated, and she knew that he loved, needed to be in charge. When he felt that things were out of control, he needed something to keep him anchored to the very core of his being. That was Lisa, for him. She was it then, just like she had been so many times before, in the past.

Swaying between pain and pleasure, but mostly overwhelmed by pure and undiluted bliss and almost delirious, she moaned and panted as he kept pounding into her, blindly reaching back, holding onto his ass and feeling the contractions of his taut muscles. In each of his motions, she felt his love with such intensity that she thought she would just combust from the inside. From the way he felt into her, she also knew the incredible level of self-control he was exerting on himself to pleasure her as much as he could.

Didn’t he know by now that no man had ever been able to give her what only he could, both physically and emotionally?

“Let go… Mike, come on… I know you’re there… I feel you…” Her eyes were closed, all her senses focusing and synchronizing with his body. “Come inside of me, baby… Come on my back, come wherever you want, do whatever you want, just don’t stop fucking me.”

“Fucking hell, baby… Oh, shit!”

His husky voice told her what her dirty talk did to him, and the way his body started to shake confirmed it.

Just a second before she joined him in a powerful climax that threatened to stop the oxygen in her lungs, she realized that this was it. Whatever it was that Michael had been holding back up until that point, the most intimate part of him that looked on life support was finally revived. The process had started a few nights earlier, outside on the patio, but she knew that his relief had only been temporary. How long can you perform CPR on a barely alive spirit? How long can you try reviving a once-rebellious heart that had been bent and broken? Well… even forever, if it was worth it. And it was working.

“Jesus Christ…”

Michael collapsed on her back, his sweaty chest feverish on her skin. He kissed her shoulders, open-mouthed kisses that made her shiver. She reached back blindly and her fingers ran through the damp hair on his forehead.

“Yeah… I know… I love you so much it hurts…”

They lay down on their side, and she held his hand against her chest, over her own heart. They stayed quiet for long minutes until their bodies relaxed and the night closed in on them with its velvety silence.

“You feel better now, baby?”

Lisa barely had any voice left, and it sounded soft. She felt his beard rub her shoulder blades, his hot lips kiss her skin. She smiled.

“Oh yeah… Much better.”

“Good… Holy shit, you almost killed me. You’re quite the sex machine, daddy.”

Michael chuckled, then went quiet for a moment.

“Lise?”

“Yeah…”

“I love you too… so fucking much.”

“…I know. I can feel it.” She sighed. “Please, stay inside of me some more.”

“…OK.”

She felt him smile. After a couple of minutes, his breathing deepened and she knew he had fallen asleep.

The next morning, Michael opened his eyes and realized that he was in bed alone. Automatically, he ran the palm of his hand on Lisa’s side of the mattress. The bedsheets were cold. Meaning that she had gotten up way before he woke up.

He glanced over at the alarm clock on the nightstand: it read 9:12.

Fuck! He had been out like a light!

Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, he got up and took a random pair of sweater pants and a t-shirt from the closet. He opened the curtains and winced when the blazing light of the sun almost threatened to blind him forever.

“Shoot…”

He grabbed his shades from the desk and put them on, pushing the door open and walking out of the bedroom. Still scratching his head, he noticed Janet sipping a coffee in the living room. She shot him a glance and scoffed.

“Good morning, big bro. Wearing sunglasses in the house now? Just like in the good ol’ days? For real?”

Michael just mumbled something unintelligible in return. Distractedly, he grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her close and kissing her the temple.

“Yeah. I’m still a rockstar at heart.”

Janet giggled and pushed him off her.

“Yuck! Do you have a hangover? And you smell like sex. Go away. I don’t even wanna know the details! Here…” She put her cup of coffee in his hands. “…Clearly, you need it. Wake up, wake up! The sun is high in the sky!”

She began clapping her hands and he flinched.

“Jan… You’re really annoying right now.” He took a sip of coffee. It was warm and strong, and his body responded right away, his nerve endings vibrating and awakening fully. “Where’s my wife?”

“Oh, you guys got married, too? Again?” Janet laughed. “This holiday’s so full of surprises!”

Michael shook his head and frowned, realizing the slip-up. It had been instinctive and automatic. His heart had spoken before his groggy brain could even kick in.

“She’s not in our bedroom.”

“Yeah? No shit!” Janet laughed again and grabbed him by his t-shirt, dragging him in front of the glass walls facing the sea. “Must be ’cause she’s right there. See?”

His gaze followed his sister’s finger as she pointed at the beach. He squinted his eyes. He noticed four silhouettes walking along the seashore.

“What?”

“Lisa’s there. With the kids. They went for a walk, and…” Janet turned to look at him and winked. “…Apparently, it was Paris’ idea”.

Michael’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, the hangover wholly forgotten. All of a sudden, he needed another cup of coffee.

Chapter song