Mister Nobody – Part 32 | Because of you

Muscat, Oman – January 2018

Michael took off his sunglasses for a moment and observed the stunning colors of the sunset, lights casting shadows across the serrated crescent of the hills. He felt reasonably safe where he was, strolling along the beautiful corniche of latticed buildings and mosques of Mutrah. Nobody was paying attention to him. He was invisible, and it felt so good – as long as he was able to accomplish what he was there for. Something requiring his physical presence and face to face interaction.

Despite the fascinating beauty of Muscat, he hadn’t left his pregnant woman at home light-heartedly. There was a reason why he had left for what he had described to Lisa as a sudden “business trip,” right after New Year’s. He had been in Oman for a couple of days, and it already felt like a year. The country was beautiful, and maybe he could consider the idea of planning a vacation there with Lisa, sooner or later. But right now, he wasn’t there for pleasure. He was indeed in Muscat for business, only not the kind of business he had told Lisa about. Well, at least not just that.

What he wanted was to be in Scotland, at home, not missing a single minute of Lisa’s pregnancy. He wanted to snuggle on the couch with her, hold her in his arms, feel the baby kick and wiggle as he rested his hand on her belly. That was what he craved. But there was something that needed to be done, and it required his immersion into the muddy waters of secrecy and disguise once again.

Michael had already been in Oman at the end of 2005, on board and ready to jump headfirst into the Blue City project. Al Madina A’Zarqa could have been his new start: a dream city spread over thirty square kilometers along the coastline, including hotels, hospitals, shopping centers, schools and even a university. A great project, something that had piqued his interest. Sadly, some of the other investors didn’t want to be associated with him after the trial. Showing once again that it didn’t matter that he was innocent and that he had been acquitted fourteen times because the jury had been quick to grasp that his accusers were nothing but liars and professional cons with a history of similar behaviors with other celebrities and whatnot. Michael’s reputation was somehow tarnished. He was supposed to stay in Oman only for a few days, but ended up prolonging his vacation and leaving the country almost a month later than planned. He needed time to regroup, especially after his final break-up with Lisa. It had been devastating.

He still remembered how desperately he had been trying to stop the world from spinning and to get in control of his own life once again, after the nightmare of the trial. How naïve he had been, thinking that everything would be alright after his acquittal and disregarding that inner voice that said: nothing will ever be the same again.

Oman was a beautiful country and, during that frail moment of his life, it gave Michael all the protection he needed. It sheltered him. He was relatively at peace there, trying hard to ignore the deafening noise of his heart breaking into thousands of pieces. Lisa was gone, and perhaps she would never come back to him. It had stung to hear her use that word – indifference. It had hurt him. And yet, deep inside, what had made him teary-eyed had been realizing that this time, she had no energy left to start again despite her feelings for him. He knew her. He knew how she functioned. He knew that, had they been face to face instead of over the phone, their conversation would have gone differently. Lisa could put up a front, talk in the perfect tone, but her eyes… those would betray her, every single time. Her body never lied to him. However, Michael’s heart had broken as if she really had stopped loving him. After all, what difference did it make? Was not having any fight left so different from not loving someone any longer? The result was just the same: the end.

Tabula rasa.

One month later, she had gotten married to that blond fool. The one who was trying to stir shit now. Back then Michael had thought that Lisa getting hitched was the last nail in the coffin – although he knew from experience that marriages and partners had never really stopped them. As a matter of fact, the night they spent together in Las Vegas, in 2007, confirmed just that and a tiny sprout of hope managed to break through the deserted land that his life had become. By making love to her, he had received all the validation he needed: Lisa was not indifferent. She had lied more to herself than to him. And he had decided to let her believe that he had fallen into her silly trap, hoping she would come to her senses on her own. If only foolish traps weren’t made of razor-sharp blades able to slice you open. Eventually, they both had bled, and they both had lost.

The 02 would have been the perfect occasion to get in touch again. Michael had been looking forward to it. Then, the disaster had happened, and he had been forced to leave. He had survived, but he had lost almost everything he had and was in the process. His identity, his looks, his name, his power, his influence, his life the way he had known it until that point.

Nonetheless, he was alive, and now knew that everything happened for a reason. Life moved in circles and in mysterious ways, and he was back to Oman. Only, this time nobody was going to tell him to butt out.

“You sure you really need to go?”

Lisa stroked his chest. Her hand was warm and he relaxed under her touch, taking a deep breath and then exhaling it slowly.

“Yeah… I mean, I’ve been on hiatus more than I had initially planned.” Michael turned his head and intercepted her lips, kissing her. “And it’s all your fault… you keep distracting me… with much more interesting things to do than buying and selling art…” One more kiss.

Sure as hell he hoped he would be able to distract her now. Apparently, his fingers skimming the smooth, velvety surface of her naked skin didn’t accomplish the feat.

“What’s this deal about, by the way?”

Alright. The hound dog had sniffed the treasure and wasn’t letting go. He was not annoyed by her digging, not in the least. He loved the fact that she was so invested in their life, in his life. She was interested but not pushy, supportive but not demanding. Oh, they had matured alright. He only wished they could have grown wiser together, and not barely survived after almost bleeding out countless times. He knew very well that this calmer, quieter, more pliant version of Lisa was the result of the constant emotional battering she had been subjected to, through the years. Yet the feeling of togetherness they were experiencing was everything, to him. They were healing together.

He grinned.

“I still have some friends in the Middle East… my new job started there, after… You know… And when a good deal comes up, I still get notified. That’s all.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all. Since I’ve been managing my business exclusively online for more than a year now, it’s time for me to go back in the saddle and show that I really exist…”

Her smoky eyes became kind of inaccessible to his scrutiny for a moment. He knew what she was thinking. She was wondering if that was how he needed to feel. Like he really existed in the real world.

“Lisa…”

She blinked, snapping out of her contemplation and looked up at him, her fingertip brushing her lips.

“Lise…It’s all good.” His voice sounded reassuring, and his body language spoke of peace and safety. It was because he knew what he was going to do, and he knew it was the right thing to do. Whenever Michael made up his mind, a cold peacefulness always enveloped him. “I’m gonna be back before you start missing me.”

“Bullshit… I miss you already… And you know it.”

“I do… and I’m gonna miss you too… You, and our little bean… That’s why I’ll be home in less than a week. I promise. I just need to check those paintings myself before I sell them. And they’re supposed to be shipped from the Ghalya Museum directly to the buyer after he purchases them, so… it’s not that I really have a choice.”

“And the buyer is…”

“I told you, baby…” He tipped her chin up and kissed her lips. “A dude in Karachi…”

“A dude…” Her crooked, doubtful smirk made him giggle.

“A tycoon.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t reply.

“I can give you the specifics if you want.”

“It’s OK…”

“Is it, really?”

Lisa stroked his cheek and grinned.

“Yes, Mike. Just come back to me, alright? ‘Cause as soon as you get home you know I’m gon’ lay all my lovin’ on you.”

That made him giggle. Both in amusement and in anticipation.

“Well… maybe I could come back in three days instead of five…”

“Yeah… you do that.” Her tone was playful, but not entirely so. She rested her head back on his shoulder and looked enraptured by the circles she was drawing on his chest. Her fingers moved on his skin, over his heart. Michael’s soul constricted a little bit.

Right. They still needed to heal some more.

Michael felt him even before he touched his shoulder. His eyes stayed on the skyline, his elbows resting on the wrought iron balustrade.

“Assalam Alaikum, Mr. Murphy… Such a pleasure…” His thick accent held a special place in Michael’s heart. It reminded him of a new beginning, albeit a painful one. But hey, everything was better than death. He grinned, tilting his head, as the man just stood next to him, his hands on the railing. Michael could see him out of the corner of his eye.

“Walaikum Assalam, Fahim… How are you?”

Fahim straightened his back and inhaled deeply, then sighed. Just like Michael’s, his eyes were focused on the beautiful skyline of the port.

“I am good. Surprised by your email… and very happy to see you.”

Finally, Michael turned and smiled at him, as Fahim pulled him into a hug, patting his back with a certain amount of enthusiasm.

“I thought it would never happen again, MJ…” He whispered into his ear before backing off, keeping him at arm’s length. “But look at you! You look better than I’ve seen you in years…”

Fahim was a sixty-something gentleman from Lebanon and had the face of a vintage movie star.  His smile was open and honest, and his dark eyes shone under his thick, black eyebrows. He was smart, skilled and loyal, and had become one of Michael’s most trusted allies and friends after the events of 2009. Fahim had been the one who had stayed by Michael’s side as he built his new identity and life. He had been the one helping him regain his health. He had been the one putting him to the test as Ethan Murphy, again and again, until his character had blended with his true identity so flawlessly that Michael had become invisible, even in plain sight.

Michael still remembered his words, repeated ad nauseam whenever he wouldn’t get it right. Like a mantra.

“No! That’s not Murphy. That’s Jackson! Who are you now? What’s your name now?…Start over!”

He had been a good teacher. A good trainer. A good friend.

Fahim had also been the one who had exercised with Michael, jogged with him, lifted weights with him, the one who had shared countless dinners with him. Michael hadn’t seen him in five years, and now he felt as if he was staring into the eyes of a long-lost brother.

“Whenever you need my help, you just have to call me and, inshallah, I’ll be there,” Fahim had told him the last time they had met. And Michael knew that he was telling the truth.

Fahim’s past was only half-known to Michael. He knew the man had been in the special forces, and that he was a fixer. But a good one. His job was to rebuild identities. He hadn’t been fazed at all when he had discovered that he was going to work with Michael. He knew who he was, but he didn’t care. And that had been one of his most significant selling points, for Michael.

“How’s Merjan?”

“Ah, my beautiful, patient, understanding wife…” Fahim laughed. “She’s fine. And she’s gonna kick my ass if I come home late, tonight.”

Michael smirked, blinking.

“Then I’ll be quick, I promise.”

“I’m sorry you had to wait for me for almost two hours. I got… uh, sidetracked by something and I couldn’t make it sooner.”

“No worries, I’m not hungry anyway…” Michael resumed his melancholic observation of the surroundings. The breeze coming from the gulf was warmish, and he was only wearing his shirt and a light leather jacket. He closed his eyes for a second, inhaling the salty scent of the sea.

“Well, I am. We don’t have time to go to the restaurant as planned, but you know well that I never allow you to skip meals, so… I thought we could grab something from that street vendor over there…” Fahim tilted his head to the left and Michael raised his eyebrows, looking over. “…What about a delicious falafel sandwich, Omani-style, and a cold, non-alcoholic beer?”

One of Fahim’s best qualities: he was always in a good mood, enthusiastic about everything. Michael couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Alright… But I’m paying, OK?”

Fahim raised his hands.

“Go ahead, my friend.”

They sat on a bench across the promenade and, for a while, they just ate in silence.

“Is it good?” Fahim munched on his sandwich and spoke with his mouth full, and Michael grinned, nodding.

“Very. Local food is always the best.”

“Ain’t that the truth… But I see you no longer need me, to keep yourself in shape… You look thick, brother! Good job! …The only question is, who’s been feeding you?” His eyes looked amused.

Michael kept chewing slowly, staring into space.

“My… wife. She’s been feeding me. Body and soul… Soul, especially.”

Fahim turned to him, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“You got married? How is that even possible? I mean… Mike, we’ve been good, we did everything right, and you’re safe, but isn’t that a little too risky?”

“I am not… married, married. Not anymore, at least…” Michael shook his head. “…It’s just… I guess it’s just the way I still see her, even after all this time.”

Understanding dawned, and Fahim nodded his head.

“Oh, I get it now… We’re talking about the gorgeous Miss Presley, then…” He paused. “I mean… unless we’re talking about the second…”

“We’re not.”

“Alright.” Fahim shrugged and leaned back on the bench. “Good choice, then, let me tell you. She’s beautiful. And fierce.”

“I thought you kept track on me on the tabloids.”

“I didn’t think you would ever be in the tabloids again.”

Michael sneered.

“Point taken.”

“So… is it about her? Miss Lisa Marie is the reason why you’re here?”

“Yes and no.”

Fahim sighed, wrapping his half-eaten sandwich back into its paper and placing it on the bench, next to him. He sipped his beer.

“What’s going on, Mike? You never call. You always do everything on your own. You usually don’t need any help. So, I assume this must be important.”

“It is…”

“And you think I can help?”

“I think you’re the only one who can…”

“And yet you are helping too since you’re here… Alright. I’m all ears. Go ahead.”

“I take it you have no idea about what’s going on with Lisa Marie. She’s trying to divorce her fourth husband…”

“Trying?”

“Yeah… ‘trying’ being the keyword, here… Dude won’t let her go. He had gotten himself an attractive and very rich sugar-momma and ain’t letting that money fly out of the window.”

“I see…” Fahim took another sip of beer. “…Sounds like a spoiled little brat. How old is he, eighteen?”

“Fifty-something…”

“For real, Akhi? Unbelievable…”

“Problem is… We’re expecting, she and I… Lisa’s pregnant… With my baby. And I want her to be free. I want us… to be able to go on with our lives, and I don’t like how that guy’s been fishing for information, trying to find out God knows what, about her… and if he ever gets a whiff of the baby…” He just shook his head, his face somber.

“I see your point. What do you want me to do?” Fahim’s voice was low and even, very calm. Almost relaxing.

Michael licked his lips in a nervous gesture.

“It might be a bit of a long shot, but… I want you to find out anything you can about him. I wanna fight that man by giving him a taste of his own medicine… I was thinking about a dossier… to be sent to Lisa’s lawyers… It should come from someone who’s not connected to me, obviously… Not to Ethan Murphy, at least. And yet it should sound solid and believable.”

“Does she know what you’re doing here?”

“She only knows the half of it.”

Fahim chuckled.

“She must know about the half involving the paintings, then.”

“Yeah…” Michael couldn’t help but giggle himself, albeit a bit wryly. Then he turned serious again. “…She’s pregnant, Fahim. She doesn’t need any further stress. And she wouldn’t approve me butting into her business like this.”

“She’ll find out though, you know that… As far as you told me, Miss Lisa is no fool…”

“No… she’s not…”

“By the way, does she know who you are? I mean… she knows…”

“Yeah… of course she does, Fahim… we’ve known each other for a lifetime… and been together on and off longer than anyone could imagine.”

“I remember… I’m just a bit surprised, that’s all. I thought it was over between you two.”

“I thought so, too… But some things are forever.”

“That’s true.”

“So… you gonna help me?”

Once again, Fahim turned and looked at him, a sly smile under his thin, well-trimmed mustache.

“Of course I will.”

“Thank you.”

Another endless moment of complete silence followed.

Michael had a feeling Fahim was going to discover some interesting stuff about the blond dude with the weird outfits. Enough to make him relent and become much more docile all of a sudden. Enough to persuade him to leave Lisa alone. To leave them all alone. Since his arrival in Oman, Michael had been fighting very hard against a rotten mood that was almost spoiling his razor-sharp business mind. After all, this was all about business. Of course, he couldn’t say that nothing personal was involved in his plan, but that was not how he wanted to think about it. Because when something strummed some very personal chords, Michael tended to lose his ice-cold attitude and became as volatile as a bull instead. While the current problem needed to be examined, faced and solved in a cool, detached manner.

If he planned his moves correctly, he would be able to move the game from stalemate to checkmate. Michael would not be the king put in a hopeless position on this chessboard. Not any longer. And his opponent was no king, anyway. For a little while, Michael would go back at being his old self, full force. His irrefutable and strategic victory would be the proof of it. He was also ready to face Lisa – because Fahim was right. She was going to find out. She would soon put two and two together. And the aftermath of it all would not be pretty.

It didn’t matter.

Later that night, he stood by the enormous windows in his Club Suite at The Chedi, one of the most exclusive executive hotels in Oman. The grand panoramic view of the Gulf of Oman was soothing enough to soften his mood, which somehow was still dark and somber. He didn’t like doing stuff behind Lisa’s back.

As he sipped his whiskey, his eyes gazed at the tranquil waters moving under the milky moonlight. The suite was peaceful, the minimalistic, Japanese-style furniture seemed designed to favor peace of mind. If only things were so simple.

Michael’s mind wandered back to 2005, to a night like this one, and yet so different. Different hotel, different situation, different Michael. He had felt so alone, so lonely and empty, that he had requested the services of a high-profile escort. When the girl had stepped into his suite, he had realized that he had chosen a girl that somehow resembled Lisa. Just like her, the woman was petite, with a beautiful ass, small breasts, elegant traits, long hair. Only, jet black, just like her eyes.

He had been polite and had put on his performer mask, trying to sound comfortable and at ease while, in fact, he felt nothing but uncomfortable and shy. It was hard, for him, to lose all inhibitions when it came to random sex. He had never been that kind of man, and he didn’t feel cocky and brazen after a trial that had almost managed to suck all the life out of him. But he felt lonely, he was hurt and frustrated, and thought that some sexual healing could help.

Michael sipped his whiskey, staring into space, the beautiful vision of the gulf becoming more and more uninteresting and indistinct. His memories were everywhere, flooding the space, nullifying time. He still remembered he and the girl making small talk for a few minutes. He didn’t have any remembrance of her name but was sure that, at one point, she had stepped closer and had run her hands over his chest, then on his stomach, then even lower. His body had started to react to the stimulation, and yet his soul had still felt empty, dead. His had been a purely mechanical, physiological response.

She had slowly started to unbutton his shirt, and he had stopped her. He was not in the mood to show his naked body to this girl, he didn’t know her, and didn’t want to feel exposed. Pushing every emotion behind, he had smiled and asked her to get on her knees.

Michael closed his eyes for a moment and focused his attention on the glass he was holding – on its hard, cold, smooth surface – trying to disentangle himself from the memories. They only brought pain, anyway, so why relive them?

To remind yourself how lucky you are, now. You have your second chance.

The girl had sunk to her knees and had unbuckled his belt, then opened his pants. He had been quiet – she wasn’t there to talk to him, she hadn’t been handsomely paid to do that. And he was not in the mood for a conversation anyway. He soon became hard and aroused under her skilled fingers, but paradoxically he just wanted it to be over soon and for the woman to leave.

Amazement evident in her voice, she had told him that he was “incredibly big” and he had replied with a flat-sounding, moronic “thank you.” As if she had complimented his outfit. He had also cringed inwardly, realizing how detached he was from all of that.

A weird, kinda monosyllabic dude with a big dick – that was what the girl would probably think of him, after their little rendezvous.

As she took him into her hand and then into her mouth, for a split second, he had wondered why he hadn’t just watched some porn on TV and taken care of himself without any external help. At least, when it was just him and his hand, he didn’t need to keep up any charade.

His gaze had dropped, and he had watched her as she sucked his cock like a pro. Well, she was. Skillful and determined, no doubt about that, trying very hard to take as much of him as she could into her mouth. Not an easy task, but he had to admit that she looked like she was doing her best. He had appreciated her commitment and fisted his hand into her hair, letting his hips push forward and setting the rhythm.

He had been struck by the fact that, while with Lisa he always needed to exert the maximum control over himself not to come within two minutes like a teenager, with this girl he was hardly even there. Sure as hell he was not about to climax anytime soon. His frustration had grown, and he had pulled back, asking the woman to “please stand up and turn around.” He didn’t think he could stand a face to face fuck, at the moment. Nor he wanted her in his bed.

After allowing her to sheath him with a condom, he had taken her against the large French door facing the balcony, her hands on the glass, her skirt lifted, her thong pushed to a side. He had avoided staring at their reflection on the glass, and yet at one point, as he thrust into her with force, he had met his own eyes and had realized that only his body was there, and even that part of him struggled to find some release.

Great job, man. No problem getting it up, but… You couldn’t come while she was blowing you, and now you can’t come while you’re drilling her. Tsk, tsk…

Irritated by himself, he had fucked the girl even harder and faster, not registering her moans and sobs of pleasure as she climaxed – for real, she wasn’t faking it. Lucky her. His pants and underwear lowered at his hips, his body sweating through his clothes, hair plastered on his forehead and neck, he was about to just give up when suddenly, closing his eyes, he had pretended the body he was pushing into was Lisa’s. It had taken a little bit of commitment, because the girl smelled differently and her voice didn’t have that low, husky, smoky tone driving him crazy but in the end, with some imagination, he had been able to get there. It had been a bit squalid, but the alternative was even worse: pulling out and jerking off without the woman’s help.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, he had managed to finish. Taking a couple of long breaths, he had withdrawn from the girl’s body and brushed her hair to a side, giving her a light kiss on the shoulder. Then he had excused himself, going to the bathroom and taking care of his condom. Feeling dirty and sweaty in the most obnoxious and uncomfortable way he could possibly imagine. Wanting to take a shower because, after feeling overheated as he pounded into her, he was starting to shiver. The woman had to go. He wanted to be alone, and be miserable all by his lonesome.

Somehow, Michael had managed to get rid of her. The moment he had closed the door to his suite behind the girl’s back, he had felt relieved. For a minute, he had rested his forehead against the locked door, just breathing in and out, his eyes closed. He had felt dejected and unfulfilled, exhausted and helpless.

Reeling back from the intensity of the memory, Michael sighed and placed the empty glass back on the minibar. He walked to the bathroom and started to remove his clothes. Yeah, he was going to take a long, warm bath and call Lisa – he needed to hear her voice. He needed for her to snare him back to the present. His beautiful lasso-girl. He didn’t want the past to lead him astray.

Naked, he stared at himself in the mirror as the warm water filled the jacuzzi. For a moment, the reflection of himself during that night in 2005 superimposed on the man he was now. Oh, how painfully thin he had been at that time. How frail he had felt, body and soul. Still sweaty after his encounter with the lady, he had glanced at himself in the mirror before stepping into the shower. He hadn’t liked what he saw. It was like a dark cloud was wrapped tight all around him, shutting out the light. The expression into his eyes switched from shell-shock to complete aloofness. He was stuck and couldn’t get out. The nightmare hadn’t finished, yet.

Back to the present, Michael blinked and cocked his head to a side. Even after a bunch of years, sometimes he still had trouble recognizing what he saw as himself. But right now, maybe for the very first time since his old life had been blown to smithereens, he felt acceptance seeping in with absolute serenity. Because his existence had a purpose again, and that meaning reverberated on to other people. He could still be useful, he could still be loved, he could still do something good for the people that were important to him. Suddenly, his strong and robust figure made all the sense in the world. His shortish, curly hair, those white strands on his temples made sense. His fuller face, his salt and pepper beard felt familiar. His eyes were alert, lucid, compos mentis. The pattern of lines and discolorations on his skin didn’t look so disgusting anymore, as Lisa’s voice echoed in his ears.

“It’s like following a route, Mike… And wherever it leads me, I always find some beautiful, secret spots to worship… You are so gorgeous…”

She had whispered those words into his ear a few months earlier, right after they had discovered that she was pregnant, as she straddled him and kissed the nape of his neck, his shoulder blades, his back, his sides. He had blushed and mumbled something indistinct in a feeble protest and had heard her chuckle.

“Shut up… And don’t distract me… Can’t you see I’m busy exploring…”

Shaking his head, Michael smirked and stepped into the bathtub. Lisa was nuts. But she was right when she said that she had always loved him – all of him – more than he could ever comprehend.

After a couple of minutes, as he started to feel comfortable and allowed himself to relax, he took his smartphone and dialed her number. She picked up right away.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Good evening, beautiful lady.”

“All good? You coming home soon, right?”

Michael giggled.

“Sooner than you think…”

“What you mean?”

“Just what I said. Don’t worry about it. How are you, baby? How’s little bean?”

“Little bean is not so little anymore, but almost the size of a melon. But he’s behaving… as usual. He’s an angel… just like his daddy.”

Her soft voice, her words, melted him and he sunk a little more into the hot water.

“I got something for you, you know? A little present…”

Her voice dropped in timbre.

“So do I, baby… So do I.”

“Stop it… I’m in the jacuzzi, all warm and relaxed and soft… And I’d like to stay that way.”

“For real? Me too!”

“Are you taking a bath in our jacuzzi?”

“I am!” Lisa moved the phone, allowing him to hear the water running in the tub, “Hear that?”

Michael chuckled, resting his head on the edge of the tub and playing with the bubbles.

“Yeah… Great minds think alike…”

“Looks like it. So, how’s the deal going? Are the paintings OK and ready to fly to their new home? To that dude in Karachi?”

She indeed had an iron memory. He giggled some more.

“They are. Dude’s spent a fortune on those paintings but hey… art is priceless. And you should see the Ghayla, baby… It’s such a beautiful museum.”

Michael had been at the Museum of Modern Art the day before, closing the deal Fahim had been so kind to find for him. The tycoon in Karachi existed for real – he hadn’t lied to Lisa about that part of his trip. The delightful little museum in Muscat had been a welcomed breath of fresh air. The building, encompassing both a modern art gallery and an old furnished house, oozed pure poetry, encapsulating contemporary pieces but at the same time expressing all the melancholy of a pre-Renaissance world that had so quickly been left behind. Sort of like Michael’s life.

During his first day in Muscat, he had explored the Ghayla and its annexed house, unfolding like a puzzle wrapped around a charming, tiny central courtyard that seemed to occupy more space than logic allowed. Relaxing on a bench, under a palm tree, he had imagined visiting the museum with Lisa and all their kids. His family. He loved the quietness of the city, of its small alleys, the blue surface of the gulf. He wanted his woman to see it, too.

“You know what I was thinking? Maybe next year we should all plan a holiday to Oman. It’s a freakin’ wonderful place…”

Lisa stayed quiet for a moment, and Michael bit his lip. Had he said something wrong?

“I wish I had visited it, already… with you,” she eventually said, very softly.

He closed his eyes. She was talking about 2005. Yeah, he wished she had been there with him, too, at that time. But dragging up old mistakes was pointless.

“Well, it’s going straight on our bucket list. Write it down, girl, so we don’t forget about it.”

Lisa listened to Marsden’s endless string of words and tried hard to not appear too zoned out. The man was verbose, to say the least. For the tenth time in the last hour, she wondered why in the world she had agreed to this meeting. The guy was blabbering about live shows in clubs and venues in Scotland, Whales, England, but it was a little early to talk about a possible tour all over the UK since she hadn’t even recorded her new album, yet.

Sure, she had put together a new band and was pretty satisfied with it. With Michael’s help, it had taken less than a month to find some fantastic Scottish musicians and, before Christmas, they had started rehearsing together in her studio. They had been able to convey Lisa’s well-established Americana sound but, at the same time, they had also added some European twist to the mix, and the result was fascinating, very promising.

Every now and then, Michael would make his appearance in the studio, quietly listening to them for a few minutes, getting in and out the mixing room unnoticed. Lisa could see him through the glass wall, face inscrutable, eyes hidden behind his photochromic lenses and yet so piercing, unavoidable. He would never say a word, but in one particular circumstance, he had looked touched by what he was hearing.

She still remembered what she was singing. It was “Close to Edge.” He had listened to her, hands in his pockets, back leaned against the padded wall near the door. Lisa had sung, and all the while had found herself staring at him, unable to look away.

“…I wish there was something so profound

That I could say…

…You know it’s bad for you

But you still want to do it anyway…”

As the song ended and the music subsided, he had applauded her, his eyes shining and soulful. Being him behind the soundproofed glass, she couldn’t hear him, but she read his lips.

“Very good…” He had grinned. “…Very good.”

Lisa’s heart had raced into her chest. Michael had never seen her play live, back in the day. And although this wasn’t a public performance, it was also the first time he said something about it. She had lowered her eyes, suddenly timid and overwhelmed by the warmth of his gesture and when she had looked up again, he was gone.

Now, as she tried hard to listen to Mr. Marsden’s ideas for a “forthcoming tour all over the United Kingdom,” she was so focused on finding the perfect way to ask him to leave that she didn’t sense Michael’s presence in the room.

When he cleared his throat and she turned her head, she saw him leaning against the doorframe of the living room. Her heart skipped a bit – she wasn’t expecting to see him there. He had come home one day earlier than scheduled. Lisa’s soul took a leap and reached for him and, in the short span of a moment, she registered everything about him, every single detail. He looked crumpled and a bit tired, like it had to be expected after a flight, and wore a black three-piece suit with a pink shirt and a red tie. The tie was loosened around his neck, the first couple of buttons of his shirt undone. His hair had been probably stylishly slicked back early in the morning, but now a couple of unruly strands fell over his forehead.

Michael wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at Mr. Marsden.

“I’m sorry, you are…?” He asked, his voice deep and even, as he walked into the room.

Marsden stood up, and they shook hands.

“I’m Jacob Marsden, and I run one of the leading events management companies in Scotland… I…”

“OK, and you’re here because…?”

Michael was not interested in the man’s resume.

“…Well, through some common acquaintances I’ve come to know that Miss Presley has been working on some new music, and I wanted to be the first giving her my complete support in case she’s planning a tour in the country.”

“As you can see, Miss Presley is pregnant,” Michael said, and Lisa knew that his mild attitude hid a dangerous undercurrent. He was in one of his moods, she could tell. “So, I am sure you understand that she has different priorities, right now…”

“Yes, well…” She got up and rubbed her forehead. A pounding headache was creeping in and finding its place right in between her temples. “That’s what I was telling Mr. Marsden, honey. Welcome back, by the way…” She rested her hand on Michael’s stomach, rising on her tiptoes, and they exchanged a quick kiss. “…Jacob, this is Ethan Murphy, my fiancé.”

Mr. Marsden smiled.

“Yes, I had kind of figured out. You’re a very lucky man, Mr. Murphy.” Michael just looked at him, unfazed. “…And I was just telling Mr. Presley that we totally understand the situation… The pregnancy, I mean… And that’s why the tour would be local – meaning that she could come home quite often… whenever she wants…”

Lisa gave him a wry smile.

“That’s nice, but I really am planning to spend every single night at home, with my family. Unless they can be with me wherever I go, which, as I’m sure you can imagine, wouldn’t always be possible. Plus, like I said, during my last tour I had to cancel a few dates because I suffer from chronic back pain, so…” She shrugged and raised her hands, as if to say that, as far as she was concerned, the conversation was over.

“Oh, but that wouldn’t be a problem, either! I mean, we do have doctors that can take care of you, while on tour… you know, professionals that can help you deal with the pain and…”

“I think it’s best if you just leave.” Michael straightened his back and stared at the promoter with ice-cold eyes. Lisa knew that look. And yes, Mister Marsden’s best chance was to vacate the premises in zero time, if he didn’t want to get a taste of Michael’s wrath.

“Yes, Mr. Marsden – I do have your business card and thank you so much for stopping by. I will call you if I ever change my mind about your offer. Thank you so much for your time, it was… interesting…”

She motioned to the hallway and, a bit reluctantly, the man followed her. He had sensed the tension in the air and realized that it was best not to push it. Lisa didn’t think Marsden had any idea of what he had risked putting himself into. She watched as the man started his car and drove off, directed to the front gate. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Michael’s trolley in a corner of the foyer. She walked back to the living room and found him standing in front of the fireplace, staring at the flames, hands resting on the mantel shelf.

“Hey…” She said softly. “You OK?”

“I am…. Sorry, I know I was supposed to come home tomorrow… I just wanted to surprise you.” His voice sounded dark, and Lisa just walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him from behind and kissing his back.

“You did surprise me.” Another kiss right in between his shoulder blades. His entire body was tense, stiff despite the tenderness of her touch.

“Well, I was surprised too… why was he here?”

Lisa closed her eyes for a moment. Oh, how a bunch of years could change things. How being battered and spat on by life could change one’s reactions and perspective. After such a demanding, possessive remark, the old Lisa would have just replied that she didn’t have to justify her meetings. And that he needed to mind his own fucking business. Even less, he had the right to decide if or when she was or wasn’t doing something. However, the new Lisa realized the motivations behind Michael’s behavior and stayed very calm.

“It was not planned at all. He called this morning, out of the blue. Asked me if we could have a quick conversation about my new music… he’s heard about it from one of the guys working for T-Bone…” She shrugged and ran her hands over Michael’s chest. “…I had no plans for the day, so I said yes. It was nothing, baby, really…”

Him slamming his hands on the shelf a couple of times, violently, surprised her but she didn’t let go of him. Instead, she held onto him tighter.

“They just gotta stop… messing with us… coming here with their brilliant plans when in fact they just see us as walking piggy banks… I’m so done with this fucking shit… they gotta leave us alone… Music ain’t supposed to be this… this…” His voice trailed off and he just shook his head.

“I was gonna say no, Mike. You know that… I mean… how can I be thinking about touring when our child isn’t even born, yet? To be completely honest, I’m not thinking about performing live, at all…”

“Yeah well, did you hear him? Did you hear what he said about your back pain?” His body tensed some more, and Lisa placed her hands on his hips, forcing him to turn around and face her.

“Look at me.” She rested her hand on his cheek. “Michael…”

Finally, he brought himself to stare into her bright eyes, shiny in the reflection of the fire.

“I am glad you’re home,” she said, lovingly. Her hand on the back of his head, she pulled him down and closer to her lips and, this time, he relaxed and kissed her. When he tried to pull back, her hand kept him there while the other closed on his vest, pulling him into her. They kissed some more, taking their time, savoring the intense feeling of finding each other again after a few days of absence. Lisa’s arms wrapped around his neck and Michael relented, holding her close. He smiled against her lips.

“You know how to handle me, don’t you?”

Lisa smiled, glad that the tension was watering doing. Even the air in the room felt lighter, easier to breathe.

“You can very well say that.” For good measure, she reached down and gave his crotch a playful squeeze, and he jumped to a side, gently swatting her hand away.

“Hey! Stop! Let me say hello to my kid, first, and then… Then maybe you can show me how you handle all of me, woman…”

“Whatcha talking about, maybe?” She snorted in amusement.

“I like to play hard to get.”

“Yeah? We’ll see…”

Lisa smiled and watched him as he crouched down and rested his ear against her belly. His hands slid up her thighs and ended up on her ass, and she rolled her eyes.

“Hi, little bean… hi Kellan… Daddy’s back… I missed you so much… and your mommy, too…”

Quietly, she raked her fingers through Michael’s hair, then bent over and kissed the top of his head.

A couple of hours later, a freshly showered Michael sat at the foot of the bed, waiting for Lisa to emerge from the bathroom. They had enjoyed a light dinner together and talked about Michael’s trip to Oman. He had felt only slightly guilty – in the grand scheme of things, he was sure his decision had been the right one and that, in the end, Lisa would understand. As the night fell, they had taken a shower together. It had been a bit longer than planned because they had taken their time kissing and teasing each other, to the point that Michael had never gone completely soft afterward. Now, as he waited for Lisa to make her grand entrance, he winced and reached down to tame that rebellious part of him that didn’t seem to care about the passing of time.

Lisa had been clear: she wanted him to have his present first. Alright. He had dimmed the lights in the bedroom, put on some nice instrumental music and was ready to spray perfume all over the bed when the bathroom door opened. Michael froze mid-action.

Lisa wore a two-piece see-through set that had been designed for showcasing her new curves and beautiful baby bump in the sexiest way possible. The black soft mesh baby doll wrapped her body in all the right places, and the red contrast ribbon trim enhanced the delicious fullness of her breasts. The final touch, the one that in no time flat rendered him as hard as a rock, was the black G-string clearly visible through the fabric.

“Damn…” He whispered under his breath, and she laughed, lowly.

“Careful, Mike… your eyes are about to pop out of your head.”

“Yeah well, they’re not the only thing that’s about to pop out…” He slowly started to walk over to her, and she raised her hand. The other one was hidden behind her back.

“Stay.”

“’Scuse me?” His eyebrows sprung up.

Lisa pointed to the bed.

“Get naked and lie down… on your stomach…”

He smirked.

“OK…” He walked backward and sat at the foot of the bed, once again.

“Clothes off…”

She showed him the body heat lotion, and his smile widened, his head tilting from side to side.

“What a naughty, naughty girl…”

“Clothes off…” She repeated, and he rolled his eyes, amused. He took off his t-shirt and pulled down his pajama pants. He rarely wore underwear under his jammies, so getting naked took him about ten seconds. Lisa’s eyes wandered all over his body, and she bit her lip. Michael smiled, aware and proud of the effect he still had on her.

“You know what it’s like, for a horny, pregnant woman, to not have her needs fulfilled for several days?”

He giggled and leaned down on his elbows.

“What are you talking about? I was gone for four days…”

“Indeed. Several.” She moved a step closer to him and popped the bottle open. “I said, lie down on your stomach, not on your back…”

“Oh… Sorry.” Michael chuckled and rolled over, wincing to accommodate his quite uncomfortable erection underneath his body. He felt her kneel on the bed and straddle his ass and took in a deep breath.

“You know… I just thought that after a business trip you’d be tired, and tense… and maybe in the mood for some cuddling… and playing…” She leaned over and bit his shoulder, her lips then stroking his ear. “…And fucking…”

Her hot whisper rendered his throat dry, and he gasped when the warming oil touched his already burning skin. Then Lisa’s hands started stroking his muscles, massaging his back, and he closed his eyes. She had no idea how he had missed her. What dark thoughts and grim memories had entered his mind, while in Muscat. He was glad to be home.

“…And why not give my gorgeous man a massage while wearing something special…” Her fingers stroked the tense muscles on the small of his back, and he moaned, lowly. “…just for him…”

Alright, if baby girl kept that shit up, she was going to find herself suspended in the air in a minute. Either that or his dick was going to drill a hole in the bed. He giggled to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Lisa leaned over again and licked the edible oil from his shoulder. Her hand reached back and in between his legs, and she grabbed his testicles gently, but firmly. “Is this funny?”

He jumped and bit his lip, trying to contain his smirk.

“No!” He cleared his throat. “…Not at all…”

“I thought so…” Her hands resumed the massage on his back. “…Relax, baby… I’ll make it good…”

She spread some more oil and started to apply pressure with her thumbs, working in circular motions over his shoulders. She always kept her hands in direct contact with his skin, alternating and moving up and down his spine, then onto his shoulder blades, finally down the sides of his waist. She detected goosebumps under her hands and smiled. She could tell he was aroused, but so was she. And yet the torture was too sweet to be interrupted.

“Does it feel good?”

“Fuck… yes…” His voice sounded a bit strained and she smirked. Unable to resist, she took his hand, gently lifted it and kissed it, finger by finger, allowing the tip of her tongue to touch the sensitive skin of his wrist. Michael inhaled a long breath, and she knew he was trying hard to stand still and pliant.

“Alright, then…” She kneeled up and gave him one last, long caress from his shoulders to the small of his back. “…Roll over, daddy…”

He complied and looked up at her, his dark eyes the most irresistible pull. Lisa almost gave in, then just decided to lower her gaze onto his torso, her fingers now stroking and massaging his firm pectorals. She poured some oil over his chest, and he sighed in delight as she rubbed his skin.

“You’re torturing me…” He murmured, his eyes closed, a small grin on his lips.

“You love it.”

He did. He was relaxed and overloaded, all at once. Lisa ignoring the neediest part of his body wasn’t really helping. He cleared his throat again and wiggled his eyebrows, trying to give her a hint, but she just laughed.

“What’s up?”

“You know what is up, girl…”

“Patience… The reward will be satisfying, I promise.”

She slowly tapped two fingers from his navel to the base of his penis and, this time, Michael jerked. He swallowed when she circled his belly button with her fingertips, making the circles bigger and bigger and she moved toward his outer abdomen. The speed and pressure were perfect, and he moaned. Lisa, now crouched between his legs, bent over and kissed his abdomen, then nibbled at it. As her lips trailed up and reached his collarbone, his chest, and his nipples, her hand finally found his testicles again, and Michael let out a long sigh of relief. Instinctively, he raised his arms above his head and grabbed the headboard. Lisa glanced up and smiled, before kissing the hollow of his neck.

“Excellent, Mike… So cooperative…”

Her hand was caressing a part of him that was extremely sensitive to the touch, and he had to start thinking about butterflies and flowers to keep himself in check. Her massage, still soft and slow, lowered further, reaching his perineum, and this time he gasped.

“What… Ah, shit… What did I do to deserve such pleasure?”

His tenor-like voice had reached a somehow higher pitch that made her chuckle. Still stroking him with her gentle touch, she finally found his mouth, and they kissed. She backed off enough to focus on his flustered face.

“Nothing… you don’t have to do anything… You deserve everything that’s good and beautiful, baby…”

Despite his intense sexual arousal, Michael felt his heart break and become one with hers and just kissed her again, very slowly, as her hand moved up, her fingertips teasing his length. Her touch was still super-light and soft as she trailed her fingers up and down his steel. The minimal amount of pressure provided him with lots of unexpected sensations, and they were all driving him crazy. When she tightened her hold, wrapping her fingers around him, he was already about to go off like a missile and her thumb rubbing over the head of his dick didn’t help.

“You tryin’ to kill me, girl?” He closed his fingers into her hair and forced her to look at him. Lisa smirked.

“Quite the opposite…”

Someone’s cockiness was over the top tonight. But Michael loved being challenged and managed to survive the lethal squeezing, tugging, stroking and teasing she subjected him to for the next twenty minutes. He knew she appreciated his staying power and, when he finally pushed her head down gently, she let him. He had been so good up until that point, after all. He deserved to be rewarded.

And yet she couldn’t help but torture him some more, nibbling the skin around his crotch, keeping up the massage, kissing him all over. Quite uncharacteristically, Michael surrendered and raised the white flag. He propped up on his elbows and looked down at her.

“You want me to beg?” He blinked. “Cause I’m ready to do it, ya know?”

Her whole-hearted laugh, her long hair tickling him and her hand still holding his erection almost made him come and he rolled his eyes. Half-amused, half-frustrated, he remembered why no other woman could ever compare to the way Lisa made him feel. To the way Lisa loved him. Nobody knew his body the way she did. Nobody knew his heart the way she did.

“No, Mike… I don’t want you to beg… In fact…” She leaned up on her knees, still holding him in her hand, and straddled him. “…I’m glad you called for a truce…”

She pushed her G-string to a side and slowly guided him into her body. Michael’s head fell back.

“Ah… Holy shit…” He gritted his teeth as she sat down fully onto his lap, her formidable tightness making his head spin and stealing air from his lungs.

Lisa started moving over him, leaning back on her hands and distributing the weight on her growing belly. All the while, she opened up more for him, and he reached over, his fingers dipping into her underwear, touching her, his other hand pulling down her baby-doll, enough for him to feel the soft swell of her breasts. He managed to scoot back and sit up a little, his back resting against the pillows, and they kissed and kissed as she kept setting the tempo of their lovemaking – slow, deep, deliberate.

Breathless, he took off her baby doll and then hooked his fingers in the soft fabric of her G-string. He glanced up at her, waiting for her confirmation. His pectorals twitched, and Lisa felt a rush of warmth reach her in between her legs. Still moving against him, controlling the depth of his penetration, wanting to feel him as much as she could, she bit her bottom lip.

“Do it…”

He ripped her thong off with one single pull and tossed it aside, and she grabbed his head, kissing him, crazy with desire, his kisses intoxicating, the scent of him, his taste, the touch of his hands on her hot skin. She went over the edge within seconds and with such violence that he couldn’t do anything to hold back his own pleasure. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her face into his neck, her lips pressing against his sweaty skin.

“Shit… fuck, Michael… Holy shit!” She bucked wildly against him, her body spasming and shivering, her internal muscles contracting, keeping him prisoner in the most beautiful way. He cupped her ass with both hands and thrust upward with determination, burying himself inside of her, wanting to stay like that forever.

“Fuck… Yes… Oh, baby!” His loud moan surprised him, the pleasure was too intense, and he couldn’t remember having experienced anything like that since… well, since the last time he had made love to her.

“That’s it… that’s it…” Her hurried whisper into his ear provided him with the final push he needed. “…There you go… You feel so good… Give it to me…”

He bucked up one last time and finally released into her with a long, low groan, as she kissed and sucked on his neck, as she held his head with one hand, the other gripping his arm.

Lisa exhaled a long breath and, still shivering, rested her forehead against his shoulder. The aftershocks of his orgasm still ripping through him, he kissed her temple, her ear, her cheek, until she turned her face and offered him her lips. His tongue swept in and caressed, and she moaned.

“I am crazy about you…” She spoke in between kisses, and he smiled.

“And I love you so much it’s insane,” his voice, too, sounded hoarse. “You good, baby girl?”

“Oh yeah…” She chuckled. “…Very good.”

“Great! I can give you my present, then.”

He lifted her off his body effortlessly and withdrew from her with a sigh. Lisa yelped in surprise.

“Wait… Godamnit, Mike… You in a hurry or what?”

“No, no… No more waiting…” Laying her down on the mattress, he kissed her some more and climbed off the bed. Lisa laughed and reached out, just in time to slap his perfect ass.

“You’re fucking nuts… But I gotta say, that bootie is still a sight to behold.”

Michael giggled. He loved being like this with her. Aroused, open, playful, silly. Not dark, lonely, frustrated, angry. On the other hand, Lisa couldn’t believe how energetic he looked after such a wild ride. And yet there he was, in his Adamic costume, sweaty and glistening like a marble statue, as he opened his trolley extracting a beautiful, decorated box. He happily strolled back to the bed and climbed in again, the sheets barely covering him at the hips. He handed her the box with a smile.

“Here… this is for you…”

Lisa took the object from his hands and studied it with care. It was the size of a shoe box, but handmade. The solid wooden surface was studded and decorated with gems and gold. She held her breath as her fingertips skimmed over the beautiful marquetry.

“This is stunning, baby… Thank you so much…”

“It’s called mandoos… it’s a traditional Omani chest… usually, it’s used as a wedding present…” He swallowed. “…Open it, Lise…”

She bit her lip and took a deep breath. Inside the box, there were two items and she gasped. Her eyes glanced up at Michael, who was biting the inside of his cheek.

“Want me to take ‘em for you?” He asked, softly.

“Yes, please…” Her voice broke.

“OK…” He breathed out, extracting the single-strand diamond necklace and holding it in the palm of his hand. The array of different diamond cuts sparkled in the dim light of the room. Lisa didn’t know what to say.

“Can I…?”

She nodded.

Michael rose onto his knees on the bed and brushed Lisa’s hair to a side, fastening the necklace around her neck and gently touching it with his fingertips.

“You like it?”

“Yes…” In all honesty, she didn’t know how to convey what she felt with words. She didn’t think a word to express the love she felt for this man really existed.

Michael’s hand disappeared once again into the box.

“I just thought… you know, I just thought that necklace looked good with… this.” He held out the Trinity Ruban platinum and diamond solitaire ring he had bought for her one year earlier. The ring she had entrusted him with before leaving for Memphis, before her accident. The ring he had promised he would give back to her, when he thought it was the right time, as per her explicit request.

“I don’t know what to say…” Lisa murmured as he carefully put the ring back on her finger.

Their eyes locked. His were calm, poignant.

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s yours.”

She just studied him for a moment, a short instant that flew away fast but felt endless to her. His mature features reflected those of the young man she had fallen in love with, a lifetime ago. He was exactly who he was supposed to be. And he was the only man who had ever managed to kill her and resuscitate her, all at once. In no other moment of her life, with no other man, before or after Michael, Lisa had ever experienced that kind of feeling, that intense array of emotions. He was it. Nobody else could ever compare.

“No, I do. And what I need to say is that… I see you… for who you are. And I know I have you, and that you’re back… I’m pregnant with our son… and yet it always amazes me to know you’re really here with me… after everything.” Her eyes watering, she reached up and touched his face.

“…You…” She said, under her breath. “…I love you… I love all of you, the way you look, the way you are… you make me crazy, but I’ve always loved you, no matter what. You’re it, Michael. You’re it, for me. You’re everything.”

He took her hand and pressed it against his chest. He stared right into her eyes.

“And you are my wife.” He paused. “Marry me. When all of this is over… marry me, Lisa. Again. Forever, this time.”

Chapter song