Mister Nobody – Part 27 | ‘Cause if I don’t have you, I will starve

Ròs House, Musselburgh, Scotland – May 2017

Hearing the familiar ringtone, Michael wrapped a towel around his waist and, still dripping wet, walked through the bathroom door, grabbing his phone from the nightstand.

“You’re late.”

“You partying without me?”.

“Of course.”

“And are you having fun?”.

“Very much so. If only all those women weren’t all over me all the time…”.

On the other end of the line, Lisa laughed that deep, husky laugh he loved so much and his coy smirk became a full-blown smile able to light up an entire building.

“I really, really hope you’re joking, Michael.”

His eyes softened, and he sat down on the bed.

“You know I am, baby girl. No partying without my woman”.

“And no other women all over you…”.

“That is a given.” He cleared his throat. “Unless we count Miss Carroll, but she’s harmless, really.”

“See, the problem with that lady is that she always deals with you, and only you. I mean, I know you told her about me, but she never saw me, so I guess she thinks she has a chance to get in your pants”. She paused. “Not that I can blame her for wanting to get a hold of the stuff dreams are made of, by the way, but still…”.

Michael felt a pang of emotion in his chest. It was pride. He was proud that Lisa still considered him attractive, even after all those years.

“Well, then bring that sweet lil’ ass over here so we can prove to her that you exist and I’m not delusional, telling her that my fiancée is Elvis’ daughter.”

Her laughter, again.

“I might really do that, you know.”

“Might?”. He sounded playful – a little tiny bit, but she immediately caught up his more serious undertone.

“Of course, Michael. I’ll bring my sweet lil’ ass over there as soon as I can. You know that”.

“You better, missy.”

“So… what are you doing?”.

Michael ran his fingers through his damp hair.

“I… ahh, I just took a shower, actually.”

“And you’re still all wet?”. Her voice dropped, and he laughed.

“Dripping. And naked”.

“You’re killing me, daddy.”

“Don’t start. You’re not allowed to be a tease, woman! After leaving me all hot and bothered last night”.

Lisa snorted.

“Whatcha talking about, Mike? We played for two hours on the phone. And you were definitely not bothered when we hung up”.

“That’s what you choose to believe. But you know how I roll… a couple of hours is just the appetizer, for me… I was just getting started”.

“Yeah… I know. I’m blessed”, she mumbled with a dreamy voice, and this time it was his turn to giggle. He loved their bantering. They reminded him how intrinsically connected they could be – and they were.

“So… are you coming home yet?”, he said, his tone velvety.

“Soon, baby… soon”.

Michael sighed.

“How soon is soon? I was all about alone time and personal space, once… and now every hour away from you feels like an eternity. How’s that?”.

“That’s because we did spend an eternity apart… so many years, Mike”. Her voice sounded now pensive and melancholic, and he decided that he would say nothing else to darken the mood. After all, she was doing something for herself. Something important – a warranty for their future together. And together was one of his most favorite words in the world.

“Well, no more. Right, baby? So, tell me again when you’re coming back to me. The house’s almost ready”.

“I know you’re taking care of everything perfectly. You’re amazing, baby… And thanks for the pictures you’ve been sending me non-stop, by the way… they kinda make me feel like I’m there with you”.

“Yeah, kinda, though.” He made a face. “So? When are you coming home?”.

“Pushy man! You know the drill…”.

“No, actually I have forgotten all about that… Lise, I try to take care of myself, but the truth is, only you can do”. His voice dropped an octave.

Lisa chuckled.

“You’re a dirty old man.”

“I know. So? When are you coming home?”.

“When the treatments are over, Michael. According to my therapists, I am working hard and good enough, and I’m perfectly on schedule. I mean, I know that technically I don’t need their permission to leave, but I wanna do this right. For me. For us. I wanna be at my best for you, baby… You deserve it. We both do”.

Lisa had decided to go to rehab even though doctor Collins, at the hospital, had been clear that she didn’t have any physical addiction to medications or alcohol. However, during her sessions with her therapists, at the hospital, she had come to realize that her emotional discomfort was profound enough to threaten her well-being. She was better, now, and thank god her accident hadn’t generated any irreversible consequences, but her physical healing hadn’t gone hand in hand with any emotional recovery. The darkness was still lurking in the shadows, momentarily kept at bay by the light of those moments of solace after her coma. Lisa had been clear, with Michael: she didn’t want any demons to invade their relationship or their future. Not anymore. She wanted to turn the page once and for all – and so did Michael.

He was only miffed she was still in Los Angeles and had been able to convince him to fly back to Scotland without her, about a week after the party at Priscilla’s.

“You sure you OK, babe?”, he asked, his voice low.

“I am getting there. I just miss you… but I can’t have you here right now… you know that. I gotta do this on my own terms”, she replied, very softly, and he clutched the phone until his hand hurt.

He knew she was right, and yet it was hard – it was hard, for him, to be away from her once again after what had happened. He had missed her when she had left the first time around, but this time his longing was even worse. The only comforting thing was that he knew she was in a safe place: she had actually decided to stay at the rehabilitation center for the entire 60-day treatment, which included both psychological therapy, a relapse prevention program and a detoxification treatment: the full package.

“Are they treating you well?”.

“Very much so. Don’t worry about me, Michael”. She sighed. “What about you? You OK?”.

He closed his eyes for a second and mustered up a smile.

“Yes. I am, baby. I just wish you were here and I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again… You know that already”. He cleared his throat. “But I am very busy with the house and all that jazz and when I get really, and I mean really melancholic, I try to remember that the times when you were running away from me like a madwoman are over.”

On the other end, Lisa stayed quiet for a long moment.

“Yes, baby,” she eventually said, and from the tone of her voice, Michael knew she was tearing up, “You remember that. You know me. You know I always come back to you, eventually”.

“So… I don’t have PTSD?”.

Doctor Mark Vharma watched Lisa from above his half-moon-shaped reading glasses.

“No, Lisa. You don’t. But I understand why you thought you did. See… You have, in fact, experienced symptoms that are also related to post-traumatic stress disorder, such as difficulty sleeping and concentrating, being increasingly aggravated or agitated, flashbacks, nightmares and, more in general, intrusive and distressing recollections of one of the most traumatic events of your life”.

“The passing of my… ex-husband”, she murmured, as if she was talking to herself.

Doctor Vharma placed his hand, palm flat, on the worn-out notebook in his lap.

“Yes. But I do believe these symptoms are, in your case, related to what we call panic disorder. See… many people experience panic attacks without further episodes or complications and, in general, there’s little reason to worry after just one or two panic attacks. However, you developed panic disorder, which is characterized by repeated panic attacks, combined with major changes in behavior or persistent anxiety over having further attacks. All the discomforts you have been experiencing… shortness of breath, hyperventilation, racing heart, trembling, shaking, choking feeling, nausea, dizziness, numbness, and fear of dying, losing control or going crazy… well, they happen because of that”.

“And why do I have panic disorder?”, Lisa asked, trying hard to calm her breathing. Funnily enough, just talking about it was making her feel tremendously distressed. She tried to find – and did find – solace in the calming eyes of her therapist and took a deep breath.

Doctor Vharma smiled, very gently.

“The exact causes are unclear. I could tell you that the tendency of having panic attacks runs in families but, in your case, I strongly believe that it might be connected to a major life transition, which has caused you to experience severe stress and, more than anything else, has triggered and pulled apart your dysthymia”.

Lisa licked her lips and lowered her gaze, her fingers clasped together in her lap, so hard that they hurt.

“Isn’t that what you were diagnosed with, a few years ago?”.

“In 2012, yes. I couldn’t – I couldn’t understand why I seemed unable to just enjoy my life”.

“That’s because you suffered from a serious state of chronic depression. Dysthymia, that is”.

“I know.”

“But you were able to manage it, somehow, right? That’s what you told me last week”.

She raked her fingers through her hair. How she would have wanted a drink.

“I tried. For my kids”.

“For your husband, too?”, the doctor suggested, gently, and Lisa winced.

“For my fourth husband, you mean?”, she paused. “For a while. Yeah. Until I understood that we were getting nowhere and I realized I shouldn’t have even married him in the first place. But alas… I thought it was for the best, at that time. Apparently, I keep making the same mistakes over and over again”.

“I wouldn’t put it that way. I would say that, at that time, you needed that kind of relationship. That’s what you told me”.

“Yes. I did”.

“A calm, serene relationship. With no major ups and downs. No conflicts, no particular passion”.

“Yes.”

“It sounds like a partnership. Like a friendship. Safe… Secure”.

She didn’t say anything. She knew that he was right.

“So… why do you think you were getting nowhere with your husband?”.

“Because…”, her gaze roamed outside the window behind Vharma’s shoulders, and she focused on the beautiful garden of the treatment center. “Because I was in love with someone else.”

He pondered over her words and scribbled something on his notebook.

“With Mister Jackson,” he stated, calmly, still taking notes.

“Yeah.”

“But that was a feeling that you had repressed for a very long time, even before he passed away.”

“That’s right.”

“And then… when he did pass away, it all came back to you. And you didn’t know what to do with it”.

“Exactly.”

“What do you think was the worst part of feeling those feelings again?”.

She snorted.

“The worst part? It was all so horrible that I wouldn’t know how to answer that, really”.

“You can try.” Vharma smiled, imperceptibly, and pushed his glasses up his nose.

Michael squinted and zoomed in on his tablet. Then he cursed under his breath. The tabloids were once again out of control – even though, this time, he was pretty sure that Lockwood had nothing to do with it.

Priscilla Presley, like the excellent hound dog that she was, had discovered who Lockwood’s source was in Lisa’s entourage in no time flat. It was Kevin, one of Lisa’s drivers. He had been fired on the spot, but not before having been thoroughly lectured by Priscilla during what must have been a fascinating – and intimidating – one-on-one conversation in her office.

Michael had seen the pallor on the man’s face when he had left the mansion and was sure not a further word was going to come out of his mouth. Priscilla could be lethal, as an enemy, and poor Kevin didn’t have the financial means or the mental fortitude to go against her. Unless, of course, he was suicidal and wanted to be bulldozed down by one the most reckless women in the business.

Cilla had been clear: no other staff member was involved in what she had defined “this umpteenth betrayal to the Presley’s trust.” That, in plain terms, meant that Lockwood had nobody else to milk for information now, and the idiotic article before Michael’s eyes was just the reporter’s doing, and nothing else.

For almost his entire career, and especially during the last years as a public personality, Michael had always avoided the tabloids like the plague. He didn’t want them in his home, didn’t read them on tour, didn’t look for them in any way.

Now, it was different.

He was not really worried about his own safety – he felt he was safe – but wanted to know what kind of bullshit they spread about Lisa. Bullshit that, as of late, often involved him too.

The more he read, the more he felt like they were never to return to the States. Scotland would be their home. They were not hounded like preys, there. They could live in peace. They could build something substantial, something different than the first time around, when too many external forces had pushed and pulled them in different directions, until they both were torn to shreds.

Lisa Marie Presley’s new fiancé flies back to Scotland… without her!

The charming art dealer runs for the hills – was Presley’s mental instability a deal breaker for the couple?

Is it already over between Lisa Presley and her latest flame? Apparently, the charming gentleman who has repeatedly been seen with Elvis’ daughter after her accident, in April, has already flown back to Scotland, where he still resides. In the meantime, Presley has checked into one of the most exclusive rehabilitation centers in California. The exact details of her treatment are unknown, and personnel of the center remains tight-lipped.

According to an anonymous source, Lisa Marie’s alcohol and drug abuse and mental instability were a deal breaker for Ethan Murphy, the elusive art dealer who seems to have stolen the Princess of Rock’n’Roll’s heart after her bitter divorce from her fourth husband, Michael Lockwood.

But a spokesperson from the Elvis Presley Estate declares: “Miss Presley and Mister Murphy are still very much a couple, and they take their relationship very seriously. This is not a fling. Mister Murphy is currently dealing with his business in Scotland while Lisa Marie has decided to take a few weeks off and go through a spiritual healing treatment, after the stress caused by her recent accident and personal difficulties.”

Well, at least the EPE had shot back. It was something. But still, Michael didn’t want the reporters to follow Lisa – or him – around and knew for a fact that Scotland guaranteed a much more improved level of privacy to its people. In fact, except for that couple of pictures shot during the previous winter, on the beach, he and Lisa had always been left alone. No reporter had ever bothered them, let alone stalked them.

Almost on a daily basis, Michael had to fight the instinct to take a flight back to Los Angeles. The most instinctive part of him just wanted to be in complete control of everything that was going on in his and Lisa’s life. His rational mind, though, reminded him that it was no longer possible. And, maybe, it had never been possible.

The only thing he could do was wait.

Sighing, he got up from the bed and walked over to the dresser, near the window. Gazing at the nocturnal view of the property, he recovered the small velvet box and opened it. Lisa’s ring, the one he had given her the previous Christmas, shone in the nightlight, the diamonds perfect and sparkling.

“You keep it for me,” Lisa had said before Michael left for Scotland. “Give it to me again when I come home to you. When all of me will be able to fully appreciate it”.

Michael gently touched the ring with his fingertips and closed the box, putting it back into the drawer.

Sometimes he felt like they had come full circle, and they were back at the starting point of their relationship. In the past, after their divorce, in their constant back and forth, that feeling had discouraged and frustrated him. Now it was different. A new dawn was everything he could ask for – after having seen the night so close, close enough to think the sun would never shine again.

“Regret and remorse.”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that’s what has caused you to experience that state or profound unhappiness, after mister Jackson’s death?”.

“I wouldn’t call it unhappiness.” Lisa fidgeted with the hem of her t-shirt, her hands in her lap. “I would call it complete, utter desperation and a profound sense of loss. I mean, I did know what unhappiness was. I was unhappy when I left Michael… it took me a very long time to bury every single emotion I felt for him and pretend the only thing I had left was indifference”.

Doctor Vharma scribbled something on his notebook and turned the page.

“So… when you told mister Jackson that you were indifferent to him, did you really feel that way?”.

Lisa took her time and pondered over the doctor’s words.

“I thought I did.”

“That’s an interesting answer,” Vharma smirked, just lightly, and kept taking notes. “Do you think mister Jackson believed you?”.

Lisa sighed.

“Honestly? I don’t know. Possibly, at the beginning, yeah… I kept myself safe by speaking to him on the phone because honestly, I don’t know if I would have been able to say those things face to face. I think he realized that I really wanted to believe what I was saying. And he understood that I truly was going to move on without him. And I think that’s what made him cry. But then again… I am sure he ended up realizing that I wasn’t indifferent at all. He’s… he was… a very perceptive man”.

“Then why the remorse?”.

“Because I lied to him and to myself. I basically decided to live in a lie, to believe in a lie. I chose a lie over the truth because it was easier and more comfortable. I know that, at that time, I thought that was the only resource I had if I wanted to survive, but I am not sure I have ever forgiven myself for my decision. Or that I ever will”.

“And why? What were the consequences of your decision?”.

She shook her head lightly.

“Look, the only good thing that came out of that mess are my twins. That’s it. Nothing else. I can’t even say that I’ve lived a few years of perfect happiness because it’s really not the case. I mean… I felt safe in my marriage. It felt right. It felt comfortable. Easy. But I have experienced true happiness – and it was something else entirely”.

“Do you believe that something had to give, eventually?”.

“Well, that’s exactly what happened.”

“What happened?”.

“I feel…”, she blinked, repeatedly, as if she had troubles gathering her thoughts or finding a way to express them correctly. “I feel my lies had a price. I mean… I am afraid they generated a sort of a butterfly effect and, eventually, they contributed to what happened to Michael”.

“So… this remorse you feel… could you say that it’s somehow connected to guilt?”.

“Damn right.” Lisa rubbed her temples.

“Do you feel responsible for what happened to Mister Jackson?”.

“Yeah, I do.” She paused, her eyes remote. “I mean… I know it would be arrogant for me to say that I could have saved him because you can only save yourself. But I still think I could have possibly made a difference in his life… above all, I think that lying to him about my feelings was unforgivable”.

“And yet you didn’t really lie, did you? You told me you truly believed you were indifferent, back then”.

Lisa didn’t know what to say, and doctor Vharma studied her, his elbow on the armrest, cradling his head in his hand.

“How can you feel remorseful for a lie you didn’t know you were saying?”.

“Because eventually, I realized it.”

“But can remorse be retroactive?”.

She winced and let out a humorless chuckle.

“Oh yeah. It can”.

“How would you describe this emotion?”. He crossed his legs. “If it had a shape or a color… what would it be? What would it look like?”.

She licked her lips.

“It would be the boogeyman.”

“Uhm. Once again, interesting answer. The boogeyman is usually related to fear”.

Lisa looked up at stared at him.

“Do you think fear has anything to do with your discomfort, Lisa?”.

“Possibly… I mean… I think so, yeah”.

“OK. Please, elaborate… if you want”.

England, May 2009

Lisa fidgeted with the tickets. She carefully placed them side by side on the table, smoothing them down, and observed them, then glanced at the rain falling in the garden, outside the window. It smelled so good. Living in Los Angeles for so long, she had forgotten about the seducing, tantalizing smell of the rain on a spring day. It gave her an embracing, entrancing feeling, similar to the one she would experience some mornings, waking up in Michael’s arms, his lips on the warm skin of her shoulder.

Michael had been in her thoughts and dreams a little too much, lately. A little more than average. Despite all her efforts, he would often pop up in her mind, but she had become pretty good at silencing those memories when they turned a little too intrusive. And yet now, with a new tour on the way, he was everywhere. Once again.

When she had found the envelope on her desk, a couple of days earlier, at first she hadn’t even realized what it was, or thought about it that much. The sender was a company she had never heard of, the envelope didn’t have any mark or specifics.

A flat, plain yellow envelope sent from Las Vegas. She honestly didn’t think it had anything to do with Michael.

But it did.

It didn’t contain much. Only three tickets for Michael’s opening night in London, at the 02. And a handwritten note.

“Lisa Marie,

Please, come see my show with Riley and Ben.

I would be so happy to have you guys with me.

Love,

Michael”.

She had stopped breathing for a second and her head had started to spin. She hadn’t heard from Michael since the birth of her twins, the previous October. It had been a quick, courteous phone call and Michael had congratulated her. He had been his usual, polite self and yet Lisa had clearly perceived the sadness in his tone. In between his words, silence spoke to her with her own voice: “This is not how it was supposed to go.”

After that phone call, Michael had disappeared from her radar. On one occasion, she had sent him an SMS – when the news of his upcoming tour had just emerged. He had never replied and, that time, silence hadn’t spoken at all. It had only been silence. Lisa had felt the sting and thought it was the last nail in the coffin.

And now, this.

She hadn’t told anyone about the tickets, not even Riley and Ben. She didn’t know if she was going to go – she didn’t know if she was ready to see him in person, after what had happened in Las Vegas in 2007. They had made love for hours, in his hotel room and, eventually, she had left without a word. She had only kissed him on the lips, one last time, and then she had walked through that door and had never looked back. He had just let her go, his dark eyes studying her as he lay down on the bed, still naked, his body half-covered by the sheets. He didn’t know she had left another piece of her soul there, with him.

Lisa gently touched the handwritten note with her fingertips. She could almost feel Michael’s presence in the room. Bringing the page close to her face and closing her eyes, she smelled his cologne. Everything Michael touched brought his tantalizing smell. That never changed.

Dangerous. Intoxicating.

Her head spun some more, and she put the note back on the table.

Swallowing, she took her phone and dialed Michael’s number.

She was about to hang up when he finally picked up.

“Hello?”.

“Michael… Hi”.

“Lise?”, his voice sounded groggy and cautious, but also slightly surprised. “Is that you?”.

She exhaled a long sigh.

“Yeah, it’s me. Hey, Michael”.

She could feel him smile at the other end of the line. At the other end of the world.

“Hi, girl. How are you?”.

“I am good. Look, I called you to thank you… I – uh – got your tickets”.

“You did? Cool. So… you coming?”.

Straight to the point.

Lisa cleared her throat.

“I don’t know. I can try. I haven’t really thought about it yet… and Ri and Ben know nothing about it, at the moment”.

“Well… I’ll be in London very soon, it should be pretty comfortable for you guys to come and see the show. I won’t be far away from where you live now”.

“I know… It’s just…”.

He stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue.

“…Why didn’t you send four tickets, by the way?”. She couldn’t help but chuckle, despite her heart breaking into thousands of pieces, hearing how careful and weary he sounded.

“Four? Why?”. He was playing aloof, but she knew him and recognized the amused undertone in his voice.

“Well, I do have a husband, you know.”

“No shit.” He chuckled in his low, deep voice and something stirred in Lisa’s chest. She swallowed.

“Yeah. I think Lockwood would be glad to see your show, too”.

“Well, you can always buy a ticket for him, then. Oh, wait, no, you can’t – they’re sold out already”. He smacked his lips. “Sorry, girl.”

“You can be such an asshole, sometimes…”.

Her tone was dry but playful, and he didn’t take her words as an offense. After all, he knew she was right.

“It’s true, but I can put up one hell of a show… if I don’t stroke out after the first twenty minutes, that is”.

She didn’t like the sarcasm in his voice and frowned.

“Are you OK?”.

“What do you mean? Of course, I’m OK. I’m in great shape”.

“Are you, really?”, she repeated, her voice dropping.

Michael stayed quiet for a moment and then giggled.

“Girl, you ain’t gonna worry about me now, are you? I told ya… I’m fine. It’s gonna be a great show. That’s why I want you to be there”.

There was something in his voice that didn’t convince her entirely, though. He sounded a little too playful – the lighthearted tone didn’t match at all the fatigued, exhausted Michael who had picked up the phone. She frowned, painfully reminding herself that it was no longer her place to worry. He was a big guy, and he was a professional. He knew what he was doing.

“Look, Michael… I am sure it’s gonna be great. And I’m sure Riley and Ben will be ecstatic to know that you sent them tickets for the opening night”.

“There’s a ticket for you too.” His tone sounded serious, now.

“Is it appropriate? For me, to be there?”.

“Well…”, she heard him take a breath. “We’re friends, right? I mean, I would totally go to one of your shows, if you wanted me to. So… yeah… Why shouldn’t you be at one of mine?”.

Lisa closed her eyes for a moment, as memories of the previous shows she had attended to flashed in her mind and slapped her in the face like a bucket of cold water. Michael’s sweaty face, his eyes smiling and looking down at her. Their mad dash to make it to their suite in London. Michael fucking her hard and fast against the wall, his dirty words in her ear.

But she was immune, now.

Was she?

“I promise I will think about it.”

“Girl…”.

“Michael. What do you want me to say?”.

“I don’t know, Lisa.” She heard noises in the background as if he was pacing back and forth. “Maybe that you’d be happy to see me? ‘Cause sure as hell I’d be happy to see you, after all this time”.

“Yeah well, I did send you an SMS not too long ago, and you didn’t even answer.”

A pause.

“I don’t remember.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t,” he replied, and she could tell he was annoyed. Just like she knew he was lying.

“Why now, Michael? Why you wanna see me again all of a sudden?”.

“All of a sudden?”, he snorted. “Woman, you done losing your fucking mind?”.

“See? That’s the point. That’s why it wouldn’t be appropriate for us to meet”.

“It’s a public event, Lisa Marie. We won’t end up fucking at the afterparty, ya know”.

Oh, how she hated that condescending tone.

“Yeah, but we’re already fighting. That’s our pattern, huh? And I really don’t need this in my life, right now. So, thanks for the tickets but no, thanks”.

His stunned silence made her recoil for a moment, and she bit her tongue. She had lashed out and, once again, had said something out of impulse. Something she didn’t really think. His was a peace offer – possibly. Or maybe he was just trying to reconnect. Either way, she was terrified.

“OK, look. You know what? I tried, Lisa. But that’s it. I’m done. I’m done trying”.

Before she could say anything, the line went mute, and she cursed under her breath.

She needed to sit down.

She pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled a long breath. Her hands shook.

“OK…. Shit”, she whispered to herself. “Fuck. OK”.

She took her time and tried hard to calm down her own erratic breathing. Once she felt more stable, she picked up the phone again and sent Michael a text message.

“M – I’m sorry.”

“U should be”

“Don’t gloat.”

“Well?”

“Well what?!?”

“That’s it?”

“I don’t even know why I keep this up”

“Cause you don’t like it when we fight”

“Told ya I don’t need that”

“Its OK. I aint mad”

“We’ll be there in july then”

“Cool. I’ll send u a fourth ticket – so you’ll feel safer”

“Ass!”

“LOL. See ya in July”

“The exact moment I realized that he was no longer part of this world, it also became apparent that his death was something I could not recover from. I honestly thought I was gonna die just because of that realization”.

She kept her eyes lowered, fixed on her hands, clasped in her lap. Faintly, she heard doctor Vharma write down something on his notepad.

“I had somehow accepted that he was no longer part of my life, but to carry on, I needed to know that he was out there, somewhere, doing his thing. He was like the puppeteer… holding my strings, giving me the illusion of freedom”.

“Do you think freedom is an illusion?”.

She let out a somber smile.

“I believe it is, if you don’t really want to break free from what keeps you chained. You don’t wanna love being held captive. The only way you can accept it, is by pretending that you’re not”.

“So… mister Jackson, was he holding you captive, somehow?”.

“I don’t think he would put it that way, if he were here…”.

“But he’s not here.”

No shit. He’s in Scotland. And thank goodness he’s not listening to this conversation. He really doesn’t need any of this shit. He’s gone through so much already.

“No, he’s not.”

“So, was he holding you captive, in your opinion?”.

“No…,” she shook her head. “It wasn’t him. It was me. I was holding myself captive and pretending to be free. I wasn’t. It was my very morbid, very perverted, very fucked up version of the Stockholm syndrome”.

“So… did you really have an epiphany? After he passed away, about your feelings… and you realized that you were not indifferent after all?”.

She exhaled a long, shaky breath and kept staring at the floor.

“Right now…. I would say I was just unable to keep the dam intact. I loved him. I had loved him all along. Hell, I still love him and, at one point, I started to feel ashamed of that love that just wouldn’t go away. I started to feel stupid because we were getting nowhere and it was destroying me. And… I didn’t know what else to do but pretend it was no longer there”.

Doctor Vharma closed his notepad and studied her.

“How painful it was, to realize what you just said to me?”.

“I think a knife in my stomach would have hurt less.”

“I can understand that.”

“So, after 2009, it became harder and harder for me, to keep up the appearances of that life I had so carefully chosen for myself. When I found out that my husband was taking advantage of me, I felt… of course, betrayed but also – you know, relieved. Because I finally had a socially acceptable reason to put an end to something that clearly wasn’t working. I had been depressed for a very long time at that point. But had I divorced him because I was still in love with Michael? No. That would not have been deemed acceptable. That would have been deemed obsessive”.

“You think that the fact that you couldn’t really mourn the passing of mister Jackson played a role in your depression?”.

“Very much so, yeah.”

“How would you describe yourself, after his passing? How did you feel?”.

“Gutted.” She repeated the word she had already used, more than once, and yet it was not enough. She didn’t think there was a word to honestly express how she felt.

“Yeah. And…?”.

“And?”, she looked up at the doctor, and he smiled.

“You should tell me.”

“…A widow. I felt like a widow. In my heart. I mean… he had gone down, and I went down, too. That’s precisely what happened. And I couldn’t even say it out loud. And all the while… I realized, that I –“. She swallowed. “I had been a coward, and he was worth fighting for. He had always been worth fighting for”.

“So… how does fear enter this scenario?”.

She blinked and licked her parched lips.

“How could I go on with my life knowing that such a huge part of who I was had been left behind? How could I go on, pretending that I had made the right decision for myself when clearly I hadn’t? That kind of fear… is paralyzing. Fear of living. Fear of dying. Fear of making the same mistakes over and over again. Fear of being unable to stay true to myself and see something so terrible, so utterly heartbreaking, happen again…”.

She paused.

“Fear of having to face my life without him, for real this time. And finally, fear of losing that love… that immense love I felt for him, that I still feel for him”.

“Because it’s the only thing left somehow.”

“Yeah. It’s the only thing left somehow. Our life, the way we knew it, is over.”

Los Angeles, April 2017

They somehow managed to close the door behind their back while still kissing and Michael felt lightheaded, like a teenager coping his first feel. They giggled, and Lisa whispered something right against his mouth, something that he couldn’t really comprehend because all his blood had already gone south.

“Ah-ehm.”

They kept kissing. Lisa’s tongue shoved down his throat, her fingers in his hair and he thought he would burst through his pants any second now.

“At your age, I would expect a little more maturity.”

They both froze in place, the laser tone of Priscilla’s voice making the temperature in the room drop.

Michael let go of Lisa’s lips and threw her a panicked look, and she immediately pulled him into her, allowing him to hide his face in the crook of her neck. He heard her giggle breathlessly and prayed the ground would open underneath his feet and swallow him whole.

This was so embarrassing!

“Mother… aren’t you supposed to be in Memphis?”

Lisa’s voice managed to sound almost casual and, even though Michael’s muffled groan made her shiver, she straightened her stance and regained some semblance of composure. He took a step back and cleared his throat, not daring to turn around and face his former mother-in-law who, probably, at that very moment had lost that tiny bit of love she had started to feel for him.

“Well,” Priscilla took a breath, “My meeting was postponed, and I was just about to call you and tell you that I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.”

“OK, cool…” Lisa ran her fingers through her hair and took Michael’s hand, smiling awkwardly at her mother.

“Hello, Priscilla.” Michael fixed his tie and finally turned around. Thank god his raging hard-on had subsided a little. Priscilla definitely held that cockblock power. “Sorry for the… um, show. We thought we were alone.”

She watched him squarely in the eyes.

“Clearly.” She made a poignant pause. “Hello, Michael. Given the… celebrations, I take it Lisa Marie’s checkup went well.”

“Yes. She – ah – she feels great.” He honestly didn’t know what to say and squeezed Lisa’s hand a little harder, sending her a silent SOS.

“Yeah, well, doctor Collins said I’m completely recovered. My hips and back are as good as new, and the latest CAT scan shows no more signs of brain swelling.”

Priscilla managed to smile, even though it was clear that she was still a bit peeved.

“That’s amazing, sweetheart. I am glad it’s finally over, and I was thinking –”

“You know what, mother? Why don’t we have dinner together, later? I’d like to lie down and rest for a while.”

Michael blushed. Priscilla closed her mouth and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Sure you do. Well, OK then. I will see you in… a few hours, I guess.”

“Yes, definitely. Bye, mom!” Lisa dragged Michael through the hall and up the stairs, and he gave Priscilla an apologetic look. Sort of.

“Goodbye Priscilla, sorry for the… uhh, intrusion.”

When they disappeared behind the corner, Priscilla smiled, very lightly, shaking her head. Then she walked over to the kitchen to make herself some tea.

“Lise… Lisa… Oh my god, did you see her face? That was so awkward!”

Michael’s whisper made her laugh even more, and she kept dragging him towards their bedroom.

“Shit, Mike… we’re not teenagers. There’s no reason to be so embarrassed. She knows what adults do in the privacy of their bedroom, you know?”

All the while, she stopped in the corridor and pushed him against the wall, pressing her little body against his.

“Yeah, but the point is that we were not in our bedroom!” He was clearly still a bit upset, but not enough to stop kissing her. “She’s gonna hate me forever, now…”

Lisa giggled and pushed her hands under his shirt.

“No, she won’t… How can she hate you?” She started kissing his neck, and he saw colors flashing behind his closed eyelids. “God, it’s impossible to hate you, baby…”

Her voice had dropped, becoming dark and sultry as warm honey.

“Let’s go…” He mumbled, holding her hand once again and taking long steps toward the bedroom. “Evil temptress…”.

They finally made it inside the room, and they somehow managed to reach the huge, king-size bed. Lisa sat and hooked her fingers in the pockets of his pants, pulling Michael closer to her.

“Come here…”

Once again, her hands slid under the cotton of his shirt, caressing his abs and sides. Her lips followed, and she smiled, feeling goosebumps under her tongue.

“I want you something bad, Michael… You have no idea.”

She looked up and saw that he was quickly loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. His jacket had already been thrown somewhere. He got rid of his shirt, and she loved the fact that he wasn’t wearing his usual white t-shirt underneath. His naked chest rose and fell at the rhythm of his frantic breathing, and her hand grazed the bulge in his pants: he was already rock-hard, and he was even bigger than she remembered.

How long had it been since they had had each other with no limitations of sorts? Yes, they had fooled around a bit, but it was not enough for them – not enough to bring the fulfillment they craved, and that needed the body, the mind, the heart, the spirit to create itself fully.

She wanted to rush and yet wanted to go slow. She wanted him to kiss her until she was breathless and she wanted to unzip his fly, take out his beautiful, perfect cock and let it slide into her mouth. She wanted to move, and yet her body felt as if it was tied down by invisible ropes. What she experienced with Michael was so much more than sex, it went way beyond pure physical pleasure – it was a kaleidoscope, a universe, always different, always open to being explored. And she felt like she hadn’t savored it in the longest time, forced as she had been to just look at it from the outside, without really having the chance to step into it and get lost in its beauty.

The truth was that Lisa had never been able to get enough of Michael. Even when she was tired and aching, she never really cared. She never really wanted to sleep, when he was by her side. She craved that ache and wanted him in her until she felt sore. And now it wasn’t any different.

“I wanna feel your weight on top of me…” She whispered while kissing his torso, as her fingers slowly took care of his belt and his pants, unbuttoning, unzipping, pulling them down. She smiled, her eyes closed, when she felt him shiver under her touch. “I wanna feel you slide inside of me… And then glide in and out of me until I can’t take it anymore.”

“Lisa… You’re gonna be the death of me. My dirty girl… I’ll lose it right here and right now if you keep going.” His voice sounded breathless. She knew exactly what talking to him like that did to him.

“I wanna watch your beautiful face as you come inside of me. You got no idea how gorgeous you look when you explode. I want your sweat to drop onto me, I wanna hold you and kiss you and put you where you belong…” She stood up, and her fingers ran a pattern over his chest, reaching his face, cradling it in her hands. She kissed his lips in a long and full kiss, sliding her tongue into his mouth, loving his inebriating taste.

“I wanna feel you deep and hard inside of me… again, and again, and again. I want you to never stop… loving me, fucking me, taking me, pushing me beyond my limits… that’s what you do to me, Mike… you create a world for me, every time we make love… and every time you look at me. I love you so fucking much.”

His lips soft against hers, Michael pulled back just slightly, and she noticed that his eyes were shiny with tears.

“Don’t… I am here.” She smiled at him. “And I am fine.”

She caressed his cheek and kissed him again, reveling in the feeling of his hands on her waist, of his fingers working quickly to get rid of her clothes.

Their lovemaking went on for hours, and they didn’t hold anything back. At first careful and slightly cautious, Michael slowly let himself go when he finally realized that she had indeed recovered, and she no longer felt any physical pain. She asked him to hurt her good, the way she loved, and he did. She asked him to take her from behind, and he did. She asked him to fuck her hard, and he did. She asked him to allow himself to come into her mouth, and he did. And then he asked her to make love to him in that slow, excruciating way that belonged to the most profound moments of their nights, and she did. She sat astride him and took him into her soft, warm, tight wetness inch by inch and Michael thought his heart was going to burst into flames.

When she moved on top of him, in slow, gyrating motions, when she arched back and moaned, lowly, in the orange light of the late afternoon, he sat up and took her into his arms, his mouth on the sweaty skin of her chest, one hand fisted into her long hair, the other one running along her spine, feeling her muscles tremble under his touch. His cock buried deep inside of her, her inner walls squeezing him, pushing and pulling at the same time and he realized he had almost forgotten what it felt like, to move into her body like that, no restraints, just passion, just complete freedom.

He bit down on her breasts gently and then soothed her skin with his tongue, loving the feeling of her hands fondling his muscular back, clasping his broad shoulders. He pushed up, and she rotated her pelvis, making him see stars. She watched him from below her long eyelashes, those cobalt blue eyes full of honesty and love, and smiled the sweetest smile. She kissed him on his forehead and then, her hands wrapping around his neck, her body still moving in his lap, their thrusts in perfect sync, slow and controlled, she gently touched his ear with her lips. A feather caress.

“Oh yeah… I want to feel every inch of that huge, hard cock inside me. Keep going, baby.”

Leave it to Lisa to find the perfect mixture of soft smiles and dirty words pronounced with the sweetest voice. His vision blurred for a moment and he thrust up, a little harder, making her moan.

“Shit… oh, damn… Lise, baby.”

He usually loved to be in charge but, this time, he liked the fact that she was. For once, the change was more than welcomed, given the circumstances.

“You’re filling me all up, daddy… You’re so crazy big… You feel so good when you’re so deep inside me…”

“Girl… I’mma fucking lose it… You gotta go easy on me… I want this to last. I don’t want it to end.”

She pulled back and looked at him with those bedroom eyes, and he reversed their position without leaving her warmth. On top of her, he gently placed her arms above her head and entwined his fingers with hers. His movements smooth, slow and deep, he stared into her eyes as they glazed over in pleasure.

“I love you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I really do.”

She let go of his hands and cupped his face once again, piercing him with her gaze.

“I could hear you, you know?” She panted, as her body kept following his rhythm. “When I was asleep… not all the time, but… I could feel you… talking to me. Holding me.”

Michael blinked and stilled. He looked stunned.

“No… no… keep moving. Keep going, baby…. please…” She reached down, in between their bodies, where they were connected, caressing and fondling his testicles and he had to close his eyes, groaning. His head spun.

“Fuck…” He resumed his rhythm, loving the feel of her hand on him.

“And I wanted to tell you…” She swallowed and took a shaky breath, clearly fighting against her impending climax. “…That I love you like this.”

He remembered his own words. He had asked her what she thought of him, of the way he looked now. If she still saw the man he used to be, in him. If she still liked him, the way he was now. Different. Older. He was always so insecure, so self-conscious.

Her other hand ran through his curly hair, grasping it gently.

“I love you like this…” She repeated in a whisper. “The way you look now… I love your body, every single inch of it…” Her fingers descended on his chin. “I love your beard, the way it frames your face… You’re gorgeous… I love to feel your weight on me, your strong hands. You’re everything I remember you to be… Every single thing… and also so much more.”

His vision fogged and he tasted tears in the back of his throat. He thrust deep into her, and she threw her head back, yelping, then her inner muscles clamped down on him, and it was his turn to moan.

“I love your body… because it keeps your soul here, with me. There’s nothing I don’t love about you, Mike. Nothing I ever stopped loving, about you… Ever.” She rested her hand on his chest, on his heart. “You gotta believe this.”

There it was. Her confession. She had never been indifferent – something he had already sensed, and yet she had never admitted out loud. She stared at him, waiting for his reaction, a hint of worry on her face, and she only found love and understanding in his eyes. He bent his head and kissed her.

“I know,” he eventually replied, before his dragging motions pushed them closer and closer to their simultaneous, mind-shattering orgasm.

Afterward, they laid still in the sheets, their limbs tangled, kissing like teenagers for what felt like forever.

At one point, Lisa pulled back and stroked his cheek, observing him with a pensive look in her eyes.

“What…” He whispered.

“You gotta go back,” she just replied, and even though he knew what she meant, he pretended he had not understood.

“Go back where?”

“Home.” She kept stroking his cheek, then moved to his sweaty hair, on the back of his head.

Michael turned serious.

“My home is with you.”

“Our home is in Scotland.”

Lisa’s voice was soft and yet firm at the same time, and Michael knew that she had made up her mind.

“Then come with me. Let’s go back together.” He held onto her waist and hoped for a different outcome, even though he was sure that she was going to say no.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you…” She sighed. “But I wanna do it right, this time.”

She scooted closer and kissed him on the lips, her hands never leaving his face. He was still buried inside of her, the vise of her legs not giving him the chance to pull back. Not that he wanted to.

“We are doing it right.”

“No, you are… but I am not. And you know it. What happened, the accident… I cannot allow anything like that to happen again. I can’t. And I won’t.”

His gaze dropped, and he observed the way her chest rose and fell with each breath she took.

“Look at me, Michael…”

She spoke only when those dark eyes of his found hers again.

“You were so brave… Reaching out to me… in 2005… and I was a coward. And I’ve never forgiven myself for what I told you. Because it was all a lie. And yet here you are again, with your courage and your love… bringing me back to life.”

“All…“ His voice broke, and he swallowed. “All is forgiven.”

“Not for me,” she smiled a small, sorrowful smile. “I don’t wanna live in fear anymore. Please, give me the chance to heal… let me do this, by myself. Let me be brave. Let me be brave for you, Mike. Let me be whole, for you.”

“Did I do this to you? Are you… broken because of me?” His fingertips followed the line of her perfect lips, and she took his hand, kissing it.

“No, baby. This time it’s all my doing. That’s why I need to be the one fixing this.”

She kissed him again, with all the love she felt for him, and she doubted the universe was big enough to contain it.

“Go home. And I will be back, I promise. I love you so fucking much… and I will never leave you again.”

Chapter song