Mister Nobody – Part 23 | Lightly falling through a whisper of sky

He had to find that place within himself where he was in absolute control of everything that was going on, at least when it came to the most obvious expression of his feelings. In his mind, he had to replay the lessons in self-discipline he had started to learn when he was just a little kid and had to look happy even when he was sad or wanted to be somewhere else. He had to find all the residual strength that was left inside his soul and use it to keep his mind clear, because he had a place to go and things to do and he couldn’t wait any longer.

So far, so good somehow. He was sitting motionless in his airplane seat, his face an impassive mask. At a glance, he was nothing but a classy middle-aged gentleman. Not a single detail was out of place because – and nobody knew that better than he did – the show had to go on, no matter the cost. Nobody knew that better than he did. Michael was aware that he had to keep up appearances even though the only thing he wanted was to scream at the top of his lungs and trash everything around him.

It didn’t matter that his hands were shaking uncontrollably as he packed to leave, effectively throwing caution to the wind just like he carelessly thre random clothes into his bag, ready to take an airplane straight to Los Angeles. His heart was racing and thumping in his throat, his blood was rushing through his veins so loudly to become a sharp whistle into his ears. He had seriously thought that he was going to pass out.

Thank God, his heart was in perfect condition – otherwise, he was pretty sure a stroke would have knocked him out cold, right on the spot, and bye-bye Los Angeles, bye-bye Lisa, bye-bye everyone and everything. It would have been a fun way to go. In such a fun moment, too, he thought bitterly.

Riley’s call kept replaying in his mind, but her voice always sounded muffled.

Echo, echo, echo.

Her words too terrifying, too chilling to find their place inside of him. Everything was foggy and stifled, except for his pain. His pain was as sharp as a razor, and he was bleeding out.

“Michael… Mimi… There’s something I need to tell you, but you gotta promise you ain’t gonna freak out, alright?”

Riley’s unusual, inaccurate grammar had immediately alarmed him, sending chills down his spine. What the fuck was going on?

“Okay,” he had replied cautiously, not knowing what else to say to his former stepdaughter. He had noticed that his voice sounded strained and croaky.

This was bad. He knew it was about Lisa. He felt it. Otherwise, she would be the one on the phone, not her daughter. Her calm, smart, rational, judicious, wise daughter.

God, please don’t do this to her. Let her be alive. Please, God, don’t do this to us. We don’t deserve this. God please, no more pain. We already suffered so much.

“Are you sitting down? Michael, can you sit down for a minute?” Riley’s voice sounded thin and unsteady, and the undercurrent was crystal clear. It was pure, undiluted terror.

Mechanically, he had obeyed, letting himself fall in the chair, one hand clutching the phone, the other one clenched into a fist, buried in the pocket of his pants. He was in the kitchen, and it was incredible how he could remember every detail in front of his eyes. The teapot. That orange on the counter. The empty bottle of red wine – the one Lisa loved, the one he had sipped alone while reliving the taste of her lips into his mind. The one he had decided to drink just the night before because he missed her so much.

“Michael…” An intake of breath and he had felt his pulse racing suddenly. “…Mom… she had an accident. She got hit by a car, and she’s…”

“Danielle,” his breath suddenly short, as if he was running a marathon, he had called her by her first name. Something he had rarely done in recent times. “What are you saying? What are you saying, Danielle?”

Blood had turned to ice in his veins.

Echo, echo, echo.

“She’s alive but… it’s bad, Mike. I don’t know what you wanna do but…”

Riley had started crying, and her sobs had snapped him back to reality, like a cold shower. Dying inside, he had cleared his throat and had jumped on his feet, heading straight to the bedroom.

“Okay… Riley, please calm down and talk to me. I’m here. It’s gonna be alright, baby girl. Just tell me exactly what’s going on… I’ll be there soon, I promise. I’m packing. I’ll be driving straight to the airport right now and take the first flight. Where is she? Where’s your mom?”

He couldn’t believe how calm – albeit breathless – he sounded, considering that he felt his lungs were about to explode any second now. His hand was gripping the phone so hard that his knuckles had turned white.

“We’re in L.A. and… She’s at Cedars Sinai, in the Intensive Care Unit.”

He had stopped breathing for a moment and then had swallowed hard.

“Okay. What happened?”

While he kept speaking, he had opened the closet and grabbed the first thing resembling a suitcase – a big duffel bag – and had thrown it onto the bed. Then he had stashed it with clothes, without really paying attention to what he was picking. His mind was drawing a blank, except for the determination to go wherever it was that Lisa was. The only thing that Michael wanted was to be by her side.

As Riley explained to him what she knew – Lisa had been run over by a car while crossing the street, she had violently hit her head and was unresponsive when the ambulance had arrived, and now the doctors were assessing her conditions, and nobody was allowed to see her, at least for the time being – he had cursed, and cursed, and cursed inwardly. The surface was smooth, and his calm voice was the perfect medium to convey comfort to that young woman who was almost like a daughter to him, but what lay beneath was a pure, black inferno.

He shouldn’t have let Lisa leave, not alone. He should have been with her because he knew that something was wrong with her. He had noticed the panic attacks, the emotional and psychological crisis that she was going through. Being far away wasn’t helping her. If only he had been by her side from the get-go. If only he had been with her that morning, he would have paid attention when she was distracted. No car would have hit her. She wouldn’t be in ICU now.

Those were the thoughts crossing Michael’s brain like bombs, whistling and exploding, hurting, slicing, killing. His mind had become a war zone. The pure violence of it reverberated into his body and he physically hurt, felt nauseous and dizzy, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead and neck as he grabbed his passport, telling Riley, again and again, that he was leaving, that he was already half out of the door, to wait for him, that everything was going to be alright.

Just sitting there in his seat now, his body completely still, like a statue, he had lost count of the times he had replayed those moments into his mind and was just waiting for the airplane to land.

Step by step.

First thing first, he needed the fucking airplane to land in L.A.

Los Angeles, January 1994

Lisa watched all three of them from afar and couldn’t repress a smile. She was standing at the door of the living room, unseen, her arms crossed over her chest, leaning against the door frame and observing one of the sweetest and funniest scenes she had ever seen in her life.

The two kids and the big kid.

It was a little past five in the afternoon, and Riley had insisted on having “tea time” with Michael and her brother as Lisa finished some paperwork in her study. Being the natural manny that he was, Michael had found the idea delicious. So they had set up a mini table, some mini chairs, three mini cups, a mini tea-cup, and some invisible tea.

Given that she was the princess and her brother was the little prince, Riley had also decided that Michael would play the maid’s role. It was hilarious enough to make Lisa laugh for a lifetime but Michael, stoically – albeit with a perplexed expression on his face – had agreed. Of course. He would never do anything to disappoint his beloved stepdaughter.

Now, Lisa’s hands itched to grab the camera to immortalize the scene playing in front of her eyes.

Riley, the magnanimous princess, had agreed to share her tea with the maid and therefore had authorized Michael to make himself comfortable. Sort of. And so, he was currently sitting down at the tiny table, rocking a very wormy Ben on his knee, one hand holding the baby, the other one pretending to pour some non-existent tea into Riley’s cup. The little girl was delighted by the attention she was receiving, naturally.

Laurel, the nanny, sat on the couch nearby and looked mildly amused. But mostly bewildered.

On the other hand, Lisa was delighted at the sight of her husband wearing a frilly apron over his sweater. And a tiara on his head, which was the most hilarious detail. The entire scene was a work of art, and she stifled a laugh as she watched him speak to Riley in his very average, quite deep, totally manly voice, beaming at her with his stubbly face, his dark eyes shiny and amused. Despite his debatable attire, he looked entirely at ease.

This was just too much. She was going to crack up at any moment. She decided to end her sweet torture and cleared her throat to make her presence known.

Michael’s eyes darted up and he smiled, very widely, showing those perfect white teeth. His entire face relaxed, turning into the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. Having the chance to still time, Lisa would have pushed the button right then and there, when everything that meant to her and everyone she loved, her entire world was right in front of her, almost at arm’s reach.

“Mister Jackson, could I speak to you for a second, please?”

She had to muster all her self-control to act serious and nonchalant, but her voice came out a bit strained anyway.

His face turned solemn, and his attention focused on Riley.

“May I be excused, your royal highness?”

Riley made a condescending gesture with her hand, raising her eyebrows.

“You can go…”

So contemptuous!

Lisa burst out laughing and pressed her hand over her mouth as he stood up and took a bow, still holding Ben in his arms. The toddler was blabbering and fidgeting and lighting the world around him with his semi-toothless smile.

Michael gently placed the baby into the nanny’s arms and walked over to Lisa, all the while getting rid of the apron and tossing it onto an armchair. Quietly, they moved to the kitchen, and she opened the fridge, keeping up the charade a tad bit longer.

“Something to drink? You didn’t have too much tea, now, did you?”

He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, grinning.

“Not really. White wine would be great, thank you.”

“Thanks for taking care of the kids, by the way…”

He shrugged lightly.

“Not a problem, baby. You know I love them.”

“Speaking of which… Didn’t you notice a disturbing resemblance between my daughter and my mother, just a minute ago?” Lisa turned to him and handed him a glass of wine. “You can go…”, she repeated, imitating Riley’s flippant tone.

Michael laughed.

“Lise, you’re so bad! But… yeah, you’re right about that Priscilla streak.”

He sipped his wine as he kept staring at her. She moved in closer, stepping right into his personal space and wrapping her arms around his neck. He put the glass on the counter and tilted his head, kissing her softly.

Lisa sighed against his lips.

“You have no idea what you do to me, Mike… Just looking at you makes me all kinds of hot… You’re so damn sexy… so studly… it’s not even funny…” Her mouth moved to his jawline, his long sideburns, then reached his ear and she spoke in that low, husky tone he adored. “I just can’t resist you…”

He shivered and nuzzled her face with his cheek.

“You can’t resist me? Mh… Must be the stubble…”

Not being able to restrain herself any longer, Lisa pulled back and burst out laughing.

“No, baby… I think it’s the tiara.”

Michael clung to the armrests as the airplane started its descent into the foggy skies of Los Angeles. All the while, tears burned behind his closed eyelids as he remembered that day. How everything seemed perfect. How every single piece of the puzzle was falling into place.

He and Lisa were united, stable, invincible. Nothing could touch them. They were ready to start their future together. In fact, their future had already begun.

They should have handled things another way. Everything would have been different now.

Later that night, after the tiara accident, Lisa had brought up his marriage proposal – the one he had made a few months earlier, over the phone. She was ready for real, and he was too. Even after so many years, he still remembered how his soul had leaped towards her, sinking into the soothing calmness of the only woman he wanted to belong to.

Los Angeles, January 1994 – same day, later that night

She was not entirely sure she could survive this. So much pleasure, coming in waves, crashing against every single inch of her body, both outside and inside, sweeping her away, she was adrift, floating. And he was her ocean. Just like the sea, he was comforting and yet mysterious, his undercurrents dark and fascinating, the blue surface sparkling and clear. A woman could easily lose herself in a man like Michael. 

She opened her eyes and looked at him as he hovered over her body, moved into her body, with powerful and yet slow strokes, his eyes sinking into hers. There was nothing childlike in the way he was fucking her.

She felt him everywhere, touching the most intimate chords of her being, her heartbeat following the rhythm of his breathing. And it was not just the sex, even though it was earth-shattering and one of the most poignant aspects of their relationship. Sex was just a medium, a pass-partout to reach countless hidden depths inside of one another. It was the all-access pass that granted a perfect view of their feelings, their desires, and their thoughts.

“God… Baby…” His low, husky voice, the ecstatic rapture painted on his face dragged her in, and they kissed. “Here it comes… Come with me, Lise…”

Their eyes locked once again, and she held onto him they went over the edge together. Their moans and sighs mingled, words of love and something else intelligible as she was able, somehow, to observe his pleasure while experiencing her own. Only, magnified tenfold. She thought her heart would shatter into thousands of sparkling particles, blasted from the inside by the immense love she felt for this man. A love that she had never experienced before. A love that she would never experience again in her life.

The tiara was gone, of course. Everything was gone except for Michael, his skin, his sweaty, feverish, hot body pressing over hers, his weight delightful, his hands clasping the sheets as his eyes finally closed in pleasure. His expression of intense delight, that dimple in between his eyebrows, wild strands of hair falling over his face. Lisa felt everything, her senses heightened to the umpteenth degree. The scent of him, his heartbeat, the texture of his hair and growing stubble on his otherwise soft skin, the smoothness of his lips, the hardness and thickness of his penis pulsing inside of her, the sounds of his desire.

She framed his face with both hands and watched him experience that beautiful little death as his climax swept him away. All of a sudden, she knew.

As he finally collapsed over her, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his breath hot and ragged, she closed her arms around his shoulders and caressed his back, her fingers slowly running along his spine and reaching the small of his back, grazing his perfect butt, then sliding up again. She smiled breathlessly when she felt him shiver under her touch and turned her head, kissing the side of his face, his ear. Whispering.

“I’ve never felt anything like this…”

He didn’t move, but sighed contently and she smiled again.

“Yeah… tell me about it…”

His voice was hoarse, thick.

Lisa swallowed and closed her eyes for a moment, holding him tight and shivering. He noticed the shift in her mood and propped up on his elbow, looking down at her, studying her face. He started to withdraw from her body, but her legs locked around his hips and kept him in place.

“Hey…!”

His protest was half-assed at best.

Her cerulean eyes opened, watching him with immense serenity and calmness.

“Don’t. Stay right where you are… I love to feel you… like this…”

“And I love to feel you like this… God, Lise, it’s not that I can pull back if you don’t let me go in the first place… I mean, you’re still…”

She contracted her inner muscles and he moaned, wincing in pleasure.

“Yeah… I know. Stay. Don’t move.”

Michael smiled down at her again.

“Okay…”

They stared at each other for the longest time.

“Ask me again…”

Something moved into the depths of his eyes, and she knew he had understood.

“What do you want me to ask you?”

He was just delaying the inevitable. Savoring the anticipation of what he knew would come next. She reached up and caressed his face, and he turned his head slightly, kissing the palm of her hand.

“You know what…”

“Do I, now?”

“Yeah… Unless you were drunk, that time over the phone. Which would explain your sudden need to pee.”

He giggled.

“I was not drunk. You can’t drink in rehab.”

“Well, then… Ask me again. Properly, this time… like the gentleman that you are.”

“And are you gonna say yes, like you did the first time around?”

His face relaxed. His eyes became tender, soulful.

“Well… I don’t wanna spoil the surprise, but… I love you so damn much, Michael. I want to have a family with you.”

A flickering motion. A twitching muscle, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly and then he kissed her, full force, inhaling her scent, one hand into her hair, the other wrapping her leg around his hip. She felt him harden inside of her once again and sighed, holding onto him as he started to move, transcending time and space.

Once landed in Los Angeles, Michael managed to leave the airport without any problem, going through the various I.D. checks and questions with an eerily dead calmness. Just outside the LAX, he found the SUV waiting for him. Riley had texted him, letting him know that Priscilla would send a car so that he could go straight to the hospital.

For the first time in his life, he felt glad and grateful for something his former mother-in-law had done for him. He would have probably gloated in different circumstances, but now the only emotion he experienced was ice-cold fear, pure anxiety. And it wasn’t directed to himself.

When he saw the driver tip his head at him, he only replied with an emotionless “hello” before quietly getting in the car. He didn’t even think about how that simple gesture was so similar to something he had done thousands of times before in his old life. He just wanted to go to the hospital. He needed to see Lisa.

From the backseat, he quietly observed the streets of Los Angeles while pulling at his beard nervously. The sun was starting to set and the smoggy sky of the city had turned orange. It looked as the clouds were on fire. Once again, he felt nothing. His entire soul was suspended, the memories of his old life erased, any fear of being discovered and possibly arrested put aside, at least for the time being. He was pretty sure nobody would go after him anyway because, more than anything else, pretty much no one knew who he had become. But even in the worst-case scenario, his biggest concern would be not having the chance to stay at Lisa’s bedside. He didn’t care about anything else because, as he had sorely learned during the most recent years of his existence, life was all about priorities.

And he had a clear idea of what his current priority was.

He extracted his phone from the pocket of his jacket and dialed Riley’s number.

She picked up right away.

“Mike.”

“I’m in L.A..” He glanced at his watch. It was a little after five in the afternoon. “Any news?”

“She’s still unconscious. She hasn’t woken up… not yet.”

“She will.” He gazed out the window, lost in thought. His eyes were remote. “I’m gonna spend the night in her room. I am not gon’ leave her. ”

“Grandma said she has a guest room ready for you at her mansion.”

Michael took a deep breath.

“I will thank her personally, but… I’m not leaving your mom.”

“Yes, I know… I tried to tell her.”

“It doesn’t matter, baby girl… I will. She will understand.”

“Okay… We’re waiting, Michael. We’re all waiting.”

He clenched his jaw and gripped the phone harder.

“I’m on my way.”

The first thing he thought when he saw Lisa was that she was so very pale. Her skin looked like porcelain, and she was like a sleeping beauty, motionless in that bed, machines beeping and monitoring her life force. A life force that was so weak right now.

He had to close his eyes for a second and steady himself, right there in the door frame. He felt Riley’s warm hand resting on his shoulder, and some perception of his own body came back. But he still felt like floating, suspended as if his feet didn’t touch the ground and he was gliding in the air. Almost like dancing. Too bad that he was drowning.

His whole body trembled as he walked over to Lisa’s bed and reached out tentatively, lightly brushing her hand with his fingertips. Her skin was cool to the touch, and he swallowed hard.

He could perceive Riley’s presence behind his back and faintly hear her irregular breathing. Out of the corner of his eye, turning his head slightly, he noticed that she was tried very hard not to cry. She was struggling so hard to keep herself together, and he knew exactly how she felt. Not wanting to have any filter while looking at Lisa, he removed his glasses and put them in the pocket of his vest.

“Michael…”

She sounded concerned. Maybe she was afraid someone would recognize him.

“Don’t worry about it.”

The eerie calmness in his voice was terrifying and foreign even to him. But it was okay. Nobody would notice anything weird going on. He, Riley and Lisa were the only people in the room. Benjamin and Priscilla had gone home to rest for a few hours after their “shift,” as Riley had called it. And even if a nurse came in, Michael wasn’t anxious about being recognized by the hospital personnel. Not only because he was still very confident when it came to his new identity, but mostly because he didn’t care.

“Just call me Ethan, baby girl, and all will be fine… It’s okay.”

She heard Riley sigh, but his eyes never left Lisa.

He sat down by the bed, rested his hand on hers and just kept looking at her, his dark eyes shiny with tears. He sniffled and cleared his throat.

“Lisa… I’m here, my love. I’m here with you”, he murmured, and his voice threatened to break.

Riley touched his back.

“Doctor Adam Collins is taking care of mom. I thought you should know. He’s ready to speak to you if you want, and tell what’s going on with her. We told him you’re her fiancé and that you’re family. You can ask him anything you want. Okay, Mike?”

He didn’t reply and didn’t turn, but nodded his head. When Riley left, he barely registered the door closing behind her back.

He stared at the fragile frame in the bed for the longest time. Her face relaxed and expressionless, the long hair neatly combed, the closed eyelids. Lisa was there, and yet she wasn’t.

“You told me to wait for you… remember? When you left… Well, I’m doing just that, baby. I’m waiting for you. I’m here now, and I’m not gonna leave you, Lise… Never again. I’ll just… I’ll just wait for you to open your eyes and look at me, okay…” He took her hand and kissed the back of it, a salty taste on his lips. It was because he had started to cry without even realizing it. “…Please open those beautiful eyes and look at me, baby… Just let me see your eyes.”

He rested his forehead on her shoulder and finally allowed himself to let go, sobbing like a kid for the longest time. All the while, she stayed utterly still, not a single muscle moving.

A horrible sense of deja-vu ran through him. Only, this time it was so much worse, and he didn’t know how he would be able to survive this.

Florida, June 1st, 1997

Wrapped in the darkness of the night, he just sat still by Lisa’s side for a few hours as she slept with the aid of some medications. After all, it hadn’t even been forty-eight hours since she had surgery. She looked peaceful but thinner, and had dark circles around her eyes. As if the stress she had been subjected to over the last months was finally taking a toll on her. After all, it was just like that.

At first, Michael hadn’t thought much about it. After their last colossal fight, a few months earlier, he had tried his best to ban his ex-wife from his life and mind. To ice her out for good. The first part of his plan had worked out just fine since it was all about practical stuff. He had changed his phone number and was too busy taking care of his baby and planning the second leg of his tour to have time to relent and call her. However, the other part of his little project had been a bit trickier. During his long and lonely nights, when he could barely sleep, Lisa’s eyes were the last thing he saw before falling into that dreamless state that allowed him to carry on. Insomnia was a bitch and, when he added stress to the mix, the result was just unbearable.

At the beginning of May, his sources had told him that Lisa was unwell and, at first, he had brushed off the news. He had convinced himself that he didn’t care, that what Lisa Presley did, how she was, who she saw and possibly even fucked was no longer his business. Although that had never been his plan, he was married to another woman: he had been forced into the wedding after the news of Deb’s pregnancy had “mysteriously” leaked. It was not what he wanted, but he considered it as some sort of business deal. He had also become a father – something Lisa had decided to stay out of, by the way. She had given up her privileges, and he was not the kind of man who would take his word back.

Except for the fact that he was… At least when it came to her. He was so full of shit. That devil-may-care attitude had never really suited him.

When rumors of her health deteriorating had started to spread, once again Michael had decided to ignore them just like he had been ignoring the slow disintegration of the armor he had so carefully built around his heart. He was in Warsaw for a few days, ready to fly to Bremen for his show, and work had always been his best ally when it came to pushing unpleasant thoughts aside.

Then everything had suddenly gone downhill. Lisa had been rushed to the hospital, her gallbladder had been removed. He had come to know that she had been diagnosed with a bronchial infection and stomach and liver infections after over a week of untreated high fever. Apparently, the “church” had tried some useless, moronic cleansing when all she needed was a pack of antibiotics. They had given the infection all the time to spread to several organs, threatening her life.

Michael’s concert in Bremen had been incredible for the audience and a substantial blur for him. He hadn’t known what the hell he was doing half of the time. On the outside, his performance had been practically flawless, as usual. After all, he hadn’t gotten on top of the world by allowing his personal stuff to get in the way. But his mind had been somewhere else. He just couldn’t focus or thoroughly enjoy the night.

And that was the reason why he had dragged his own ass on a chartered plane after the show, directed to Florida. To hell his plan. He was terrified, worried stiff. And the fact that he didn’t care about Lisa… was bullshit. He did care. In fact, he loved her. Still. Always. And imagining her in a hospital bed, in severe conditions, had been more than enough to pull his head out of his ass and snap him back to the reality of what truly mattered. The ice walls he had so carefully erected had been obliterated, and without even thinking he had decided to fly back to the States for a day or two, before his next show in Cologne. He had realized that he could not carry on like nothing was happening. He had to see her. His ex-wife. The woman he was still in love with and was also mad at.

So, when Lisa finally opened her eyes a little before dawn, the first thing Michael did was exhale a sigh of relief and reach over, gently caressing her hand.

She jerked and squinted her eyes, fixing her gaze on him and frowning.

“What the fuck…”

Her voice was croaky.

“Sssh… baby, I’m here now… It’s okay…”

He looked calm, but his heart raced a mile a minute in his chest.

Lisa winced, and his eyes widened.

“Are you in pain?”

Fuck, she was in pain alright. So much that she felt like crying.

“What are you doing here, Michael? You should leave…”

She averted her gaze and did her best to sound reasonable, but the truth was that his presence had stunned her. And she couldn’t look at him right now. She couldn’t face the raging storm of emotions she was suddenly experiencing: surprise. Anger. Longing. Happiness. Sorrow. Regret. Love.

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

She glanced over at him for a second, then closed her eyes again. Nope. She wouldn’t watch him at all.

“I mean that I’m staying right here, Lise. How are you feeling?”

She didn’t know what to do with him. Part of her wanted to slap him. At the same time, she wanted to reach out and pull him to her and never let him go again. Disconcerting, exasperating man.

“How the fuck do you think I’m feeling? Like shit. They removed my gallbladder.”

“I know.”

“Yeah? And how do you know? Who told you?”

Michael shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter. I just do.”

“Why did you even show up, anyway? I thought I was out of your life.”

He stared at her for a moment, then entwined his fingers with hers. Lisa didn’t pull her hand away. She hated that he seemed unfazed by her charade.

“Do you think I can stay away knowing you’re sick and lying in a hospital bed? You really think I’m such a bastard?”

The honesty in his voice cut her deeply – which was precisely what she was trying to avoid. She needed him to leave, and soon. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to survive another farewell. Paradoxical, yet true.

“No, Michael, I don’t think you’re a bastard. But I know you can act like one when you want to.”

It was his turn to wince. Yes, he had refused her calls, ignored her letters, changed his number and punished her by giving her the silent treatment. Until something much more significant than their childish power struggles had scared him to death and forced him to reconsider.

Lisa shook her head and stretched out her arm, trying to grab the bottle of water from the nightstand. She realized that moving was more difficult than she expected, and let her hand fall back on the mattress, sighing.

He got up and walked around the bed.

“Are you thirsty? Wait… let me.”

He poured her a glass of water and gently brought it to her lips, helping her take a sip.

“There you go, baby girl… Careful…”                                     

She drank slowly, covering his hand with her own. Her lips felt parched and she was exhausted, half out of it.

“Thanks…”

He put the glass back on the nightstand and crouched down by the bed, looking up at her, staring at her with those puppy dog eyes for what seemed forever.

“I missed you.”

Oh, hell no.

“Michael…” She turned her head away and gazed out the window. Just complete darkness.

“Lise… look at me. Please. I need to see your eyes.”

“Well, you know what… my voice will have to do. I don’t think you should be here. See? I’m fine. And you’re supposed to be in Europe… You have shows to do, your baby boy to take care of…” She exhaled. “…And a wife to go back to.”

He clenched his jaw and his gaze fell on her hand, resting on the mattress. He noticed that she had gripped the sheets slightly.

“How’s Prince, by the way?” She still didn’t turn her head, but her voice softened and another layer of ice melted from his hardened heart.

He got up and walked around the bed once again, plopping on the chair next to her and forcing her to look at him. Lisa realized that turning her head the other way would have been kind of childish and just watched him evenly.

“He’s good… he’s getting real big, you know? I wish you could see him now, Lise…” He shook his head slowly and cleared his throat, trying to stifle his sudden enthusiasm. He looked uneasy all of a sudden. “…Thanks for asking”.

A small smile appeared on her face, and he realized that it didn’t matter how ugly it got between the two of them. Lisa would always care about his kid. His heart soared a little higher.

“I do, you know? I do miss you.” It was time to stop making this less than what it was. “And I just couldn’t stay away. I had to see you. I was terrified… I was so scared you would die”.

He was being honest, she could tell. Out of sheer instinct, she reached out to him and took his hand again. That small, apparently insignificant gesture of comfort had the effect of a grenade exploding in his heart. Every defense was blown to smithereens. 

“Mike… I’m not dying. I’m fine and you don’t have to worry. They’re taking good care of me.” She closed her eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. “You can go back to wherever it is that you gotta be. I’ll be out of here in a few days anyway, so… It’s all good. Thanks for coming, though.”

Her voice sounded tired, defeated. As if she had no fight left in her.

Michael stood up and looked down at her, noticing the glimmer of tears in her eyes. But she wasn’t allowing herself to cry, and he could not blame her.

To think that all had gone quite well between the two of them, at first. Lisa had accepted Debbie’s pregnancy, understood the terms of their agreement, believed the truth – that he and Debbie did not have a relationship – and even agreed to raise Prince with him. But then his unexpected wedding had destroyed everything. Their relationship, until that point precious and delicate like a blooming flower, had crashed and burned. One moment they were reconnecting, talking, making love, trying hard to rebuild that mutual trust that had been such a huge part of their history, and then they were suddenly estranged once again. In the Armageddon that their lives had become, the only clear thing was that they had not separated because they didn’t love each other anymore. And that made everything even more absurd than it already was – if that was even possible.

“Just go, Michael…” Lisa let go of his hand and once again gazed out the window, her eyes distant and sad.

He just stood there, his shadow huge and deformed on the wall of the room, the silence of the night deafening. Maybe she was right, maybe he should just go. It didn’t matter what they both still felt for one another. They had wasted their opportunity, and the only thing they could do was moving on with their respective lives.

He tilted his head and took a step back, slowly removing his jacket and letting it fall on the chair.

Her eyes turned on him, and he intercepted a trace of surprise in those azure irises.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m tired.”

“No shit. It’s five in the morning. Well… you can sleep on the airplane.”

He removed his shoes, unbuckled his belt, got rid of it, and unbuttoned his jeans for good measure. Lisa’s eyebrows sprung up, and he scoffed, shaking his head.

“You have a filthy mind.”

She decided to ignore the humor in his voice.

“Mike, don’t. Whatever it is that you’re planning to do, stop right there, right now.”

Unfazed and seemingly lost in thought, he unbuttoned his shirt and finally walked over to the bed.

“Scoot over. You think you can do that?”

Lisa watched him as if he had grown two heads.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You asking me to make room for you… in my hospital bed?”

“Yeah. You think you can move to the side a little bit? I don’t wanna crush you.”

“What the fuck? You’re insufferable!”

Despite her incredulous tone, she did slide on the mattress and even pulled the sheets back for him. Not smiling like an idiot became very difficult and Michael focused on cautiously lying in bed with her. He tucked them both in and gently pulled her close until her head rested on his chest. His arm closed around her shoulders. How right it felt, to have her in his arms again.

He kissed the top of her head.

“You comfortable?”

“Yes, you crazy, lunatic manbaby.”

He smiled. His lips touched her forehead and lingered there as he raked his fingers through her hair.  Who would have imagined that her calling him names would feel so good?

“Are you in pain?” He repeated the first question he had asked her when she had just woken up, finding him by her side.

The truth was that she was not. Not anymore. He was her pain and painkiller, all at once. She rested her hand on his chest and took a breath, shaking her head and relaxing, inhaling the unique scent of his skin. So intoxicating. So familiar. More than anything else, Michael felt like home.

He kept kissing her, soft pecks lightly skimming her skin, on her forehead, her temple, her cheek, her eyelids, the tip of her nose. Her eyes closed, Lisa couldn’t do anything but tilt her head a little bit, enough for him to have access to her lips. They shared a slow, tender kiss. It was more than enough.

Automatically, her hand reached up and caressed his face, then her fingers tangled in his hair. Surprising even herself, she was the one deepening the kiss and touched his tongue with her own, then bit down on his bottom lip gently. She pulled back and rested her head back on his chest, noticing that his heartbeat and breathing had accelerated. Michael’s head sank into the pillows.

“I love you, Lise…”

Bitching and nagging was pointless. And she was way too weak for that, anyway

“I love you too, Mike… Now shut up and let me rest for a minute.”

However, it was his breathing that became slower and deeper. He fell asleep first. She relished in the fact that her presence seemed able to ease him into a natural, comforting sleep. No medications needed.

She closed her eyes. Whatever they were doing now, they had all the time in the world to talk about it.

Tomorrow.

For now, she only needed to feel him close. She wanted to sink into him, regulate its rhythm on the unique beating of his heart, and once again become one with him.

Michael watched Doctor Collins with huge eyes and hoped not to look too disheveled after a night spent by Lisa’s side.

He hadn’t slept at all. He had just dozed off every now and then during the night, and now his back hurt like a motherfucker. Earlier that morning, Riley had reappeared in the room after having gone home for a few hours to get some sleep and take a shower. She had brought him a cup of coffee and he had hugged her.

“Thank you for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome. You look like you need it.”

He had then informed Riley that her mom had not moved or given any apparent sign of consciousness. Not yet. Riley hadn’t replied. She had just chewed on her bottom lip, lowering her gaze.

Michael’s eyes were red and puffy. He had taken off his jacket and loosened his tie. His hair was a mess, and greyish curls fell on his forehead. He looked tired and suddenly older.

When Riley had told him that doctor Collins was still waiting to update him about Lisa’s conditions, he had realized that he had been avoiding the guy. He was not sure he was ready for whatever it was that Collins had to tell him. He thought he knew exactly what was wrong with Lisa and maybe didn’t want to hear it.

But then he had realized he couldn’t dodge the confrontation any longer and, after kissing Lisa’s lips softly, he had walked to the bathroom to wash his face and make himself as presentable as he could. Which, judging by the image greeting him in the mirror, was not an easy feat.

Now he sat in Collins’ studio, his hands clasped in his lap, watching him intently through the lens of his glasses.

“Mister Murphy, Miss Keough told me that I can consider you a relative since you’re Miss Presley’s fiancé.”

“Yeah… I’m family.” Michael cleared his throat and loosened his tie a little more. He realized that hw was sweating. Why had he put on his vest again?

“Alright, so… If you have any questions, please feel free to ask.”

“I just wanna know what’s going on with my… with Lisa.” He bit his tongue a little too hard and tasted blood. “I wanna know why she hasn’t woken up yet.”

Collins sighed and pushed his specs up his nose, then rested his hands on the desk.

“Miss Presley suffered severe head trauma in her accident and arrived here unresponsive. The CAT scan showed a traumatic brain injury which has caused her brain to swell, and that’s why we’ve decided to keep her in a medically induced coma and lower her body temperature.”

Michael blinked as all air was forced out of his lungs. He was glad he was sitting down.

“She’s… in a coma? That’s why she’s not waking up? That’s why her skin is so cold?”

“Yes, Mister Murphy.”

He felt suddenly dizzy. He rested his elbows on his knees and took his head into his hands.

“The brain is trapped inside our skull, and that’s why, in cases like this, pressure on the brain increases and restricts a lot of critical functions, such as blood supply. The skull is a closed space, and as the brain starts to expand, the only place it can go is down and out. That can result in brain stem damage, a lot of tissue damage… and in some unfortunate cases, death.”

He slowly raised his head and stared at the doctor with blank eyes.

“Are you telling me that she’s dying?”

Doctor Collins gave him a small, sad smile.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m only explaining what might happen in cases like this, if the patient is not treated correctly.”

“But you’re treating her correctly, right?”

“We are.” Collins slowly tapped his fingers on the desk and Michael fought the urge to snap them. He had no reason to be angry at the doctor. But he was furious and desperate, and part of him just needed to lash out like a rabid dog.

“We are trying to reduce the energy requirements of the brain, which in turn reduces blood flow and pressure, allowing the brain to rest. See… it’s kind of like cooling the engine down and allowing the healing process to occur slowly. This treatment also decreases the swelling of the brain, hopefully…”

“Hopefully…”

“Yes, Mister Murphy, hopefully. Science aside, we always must have hope that everything turns out as we believe it will. Currently, we are trying to reduce the chance that she’s going to get that increased intracranial pressure that’s occurring.”

Michael swallowed.

“What… what medications are you using for her induced coma?” He was terrified to ask, but couldn’t stop his tongue.

“Propofol.”

His ears started to buzz, and he swayed dangerously on the chair.

“Mister Murphy? Are you okay? Do you need to lie down?”

Collins’ voice was a vague echo in the periphery of the whistling sound enveloping his mind. He pressed his fingernails into the palm of his hand until it hurt.

“No… I’m fine.”

Oh, the twist of fate. The irony. The unexpected turn of events.

“We classify head injuries as mild, moderate or severe, according to how people interact with their environment. In mild injuries, patients are usually awake, alert and following commands. Moderate injuries might leave a patient confused or combative, and all in all unable to follow commands… that was Lisa, right before the ambulance arrived… before she lost consciousness.”

Michael scoffed. Of course she was combative and unwilling to follow commands. That was just who she was.  She had always been that way. He was not so sure it was all about her head injury.

“Sadly, it was pretty clear from the get-go that Miss Presley suffered a mild to severe injury. She hit her head quite hard on the concrete and what happens in these cases is that the brain moves back and forth within the skull, causing further stretching injury and damage… and a secondary cascade of events.”

“What do you mean?”

e touched his forehead, noticing how sweaty it was. Keeping himself in check was getting harder and harder, but he needed to know everything. He needed to be in control somehow, even though he felt like spiraling straight into the darkness.

“Well… the body releases chemicals that are toxic to the brain, such as calcium flood into the brain’s cells and this process causes swelling. We are trying to avoid apoptosis, which is a…”

“…programmed cell death. Yeah.” Michael said the words, yet they sounded as if they came from someplace else.

“So, yes… our current goal in management is to avoid, reduce and slow any of those processes down. That’s why we’re keeping Miss Presley’s body temperature between 93.2 and 95 degrees Fahrenheit. It’s called therapeutic hypothermia and is generally effective at keeping down intracranial pressure since it lowers the energy required by the brains and reduces the swelling.”

“Is she going to wake up?” Michael had to ask.

Doctor Collins smiled slightly and tilted his head, clasping his hands in front of his mouth.

“We believe so, yes. She’s a very strong woman.”

“When? When is she going to wake up?”

“The biggest part of the brain’s inflammatory response to injury peaks after 48 to 72 hours… that’s why we plan to keep her body cool for three more days.”

“Three more days… I understand…”

“And then there’s something else.”

Michael closed his eyes, bracing himself.

“We ran some tests, obviously. Well, it isn’t imperative right now, but I just want you to be aware of the fact that Miss Presley’s blood showed the presence of alcohol and anti-anxiety medications when the accident occurred. So, in the grand scheme of things, I believe that will be an issue to be addressed when she gets better.”

Chapter song