Mr. Nobody Special Collection | The shadows

The shadows

Author’s note: given how difficult it is to be creative and produce high-quality writing – which readers and above all authors deserve – as of late, because of the obscene crapfest going on in the media, I’m taking a break and trying to put some order in my thoughts. Better to wait a bit longer and have new chapters worth reading than hurrying and writing crappy chapters, I guess. Meanwhile, I wrote this – mainly for myself. It belongs to the Mister Nobody storyline and the reason is quite obvious. I hope you will enjoy it.

“For too long I have played on the stage of lucidity, and I have lost. Now I need to accustom my eyes to the falling darkness. I need to contemplate the natural slumber of all things, which the light calls forth, yet also causes to tire. Life must begin in darkness. Its powers of germination lie hidden. Every day has its night, every light has its shadow.
I cannot be asked to accept these shadows gladly. It is enough that I accept them.”
― Mihail Sebastian, For Two Thousand Years

Ròs House, Scotland, Winter 2019

The phone call came at night. Not exaggeratedly late, but late enough – as Michael and Lisa were already asleep, snuggled in bed. Intertwined.

It had been a beautiful, sunny, late January day, chilly but luminous, and they had taken the chance to spend some quality time with their baby boy and the twins. Kellan was now nine months old and had started to become quite the expert at changing position without any warning, to the point that Michael’s level of anxiety had risen in a considerable way, as of late. He was terrified the child could fall while he cruised around the room like a tiny maniac, while holding onto furniture.

Lisa wasn’t all that worried. Her husband was on it – there was no way in the world Kel was going to end up face down on the floor without Michael breaking his fall. It didn’t matter that he was now older and more massive – Michael had been athletic all his life, and his movements were still quick and controlled. The man had always had great reflexes. Besides, he was in great shape – he had been healthy and strong since he had returned to her, and looked magnificent. Like a middle-aged god. This new life they had built for themselves had been kind to him. And her, too…

That night, after putting the baby to sleep, Lisa and Michael had cuddled on the couch, in front of the fireplace. They hadn’t spoken much, but the silence they were now able to enjoy together felt so much like the comfortable, quiet time they used to share at the beginning of their marriage. The first one, so many years earlier. When he was still on top of the world and she… well, she was born royalty, and didn’t know what to do with it, yet. Before all hell broke loose. Before they ended up divorcing, tearing each other apart, breaking up and going back together countless times, and so on. Before he died. At least to the world.

He had disappeared and gone into hiding for seven years before going back to her, a little over than two years earlier. With a new name, a different appearance – his features not really altered, but concealed by a new look, so different from the one he had always sported. A new identity. A new life.

Lisa and Michael had started again from there. It had taken blood and tears, but in the end, they had managed to take back what was theirs. What was supposed to be rightfully theirs to begin with. It had been exhausting and oh, so worth it. Destroying the frozen worlds they both had imprisoned themselves in for such a long time; learning to trust again, talk again, reconnecting in the most profound manner. Overcoming issues, even severe ones. Allowing themselves to try, and succeed this time. Creating a new existence that included them both. A place to call home. A marriage. A kid that was theirs. A family.

At this point, Lisa had started to think they were finally safe. She had no idea a simple phone call waking them up in the middle of the night could threaten to ruin it all.

“Not for the first time I find our lives are a shadow, and I am not afraid to say that people who think they have everything figured out and are masters of logic – they are responsible for the greatest folly. No human being is happy. Strike it rich and you are luckier than your neighbor – but happy, never.”
― Euripides, Medea

It was Michael who took the call. When his smartphone buzzed, on his nightstand, he was spooning Lisa and she was already semi-asleep. They had made love once before passing out, their bodies still interlaced. Their lovemaking had been slow and sweet, almost languid. Which was a luxury they hadn’t always experienced in the frantic years they had been together… before. Floating in the haze that preceded sleep, Michael too had been startled by the sudden noise. Lisa had made a sound and he had kissed her temple, lovingly.

“It’s mine… Go back to sleep, baby girl.”

“OK… but who is it? It’s late… What time is it?” She had turned her head slightly and had felt his fingers on her chin. His lips had covered hers.

“A bit after midnight. It’s fine. It’s probably just about work. Close your eyes.” One more kiss.

And she had done just that, after a bit. Her mind too foggy to make out the words he was speaking. She hadn’t noticed any apparent change in his tone. Michael had calmly listened to whoever was on the other end and, after a minute or two, had gotten up from the bed. She had vaguely heard him open a drawer and then the rustling of fabric – indicating that he was putting on his jammies and a t-shirt. Then he had left the room, leaving the door ajar. He had moved so quietly that Lisa didn’t even know where he had gone – possibly in his study. Thinking he would be back soon, she had closed her eyes and had drifted off. Only to wake up in the morning and find his side of the bed cold and empty. She had known, right away, that Michael had not come back to their bedroom, the previous night, and her alarm bells had gone off.

This was so not like him. Not like the new Michael, at least. This was more like the old Michael. The one who couldn’t sleep – not the guy she had found again when she had thought he was lost forever. This mature, calmer, more pacified, different version of him had finally managed to reduce his stress enough, to keep his lupus under control enough to reign over his insomnia. This Michael, the one she had just gotten married to, would rest. Every night. He had not become lazy, but Lisa had made it a point to check on his sleep. She knew that her husband had at least six solid hours of bedtime per night now.

But not the previous night.

Frowning, Lisa got up and put on her robe. She went to the bathroom and splashed water over her face, then brushed her teeth – all the while chasing the sleep away and trying to quiet down the sudden anxiety arising inside. Doing her best not to have any knee-jerk reaction, like it so often would happen in the past. She was certainly mistaken. Michael must have come back to bed at one point, and then he must have gotten up early and left to do something. She just hadn’t noticed it. There was nothing to be worried about.

She put on a pair of athletic pants and a sweater and went to check on Kellan. He was still asleep, but he opened his eyes the moment Lisa touched his cheek with the back of her finger, and smiled. Lisa relaxed, instinctively. Her baby’s soothing factor was not to be underestimated. The twins were still sleeping soundly in their room, and it was way too early for Miss Emma and Marcus to arrive. It was a little past seven in the morning.

She fed the baby and brought him with her, scanning the house, looking for Michael. He was not in his study. From the window, she noticed that the greenhouse was dark and deserted. He wasn’t in the garden either. Nor in the gym, or in the dance room. Panic started to creep into her. Then it occurred to her that he could be downstairs, in her studio. He didn’t go there often, but sometimes he still loved to tinker with the recording equipment. He was also amazing at it, as his talent had never vanished. It was just hidden behind his new facade.

Still holding Kellan against her hip, Lisa went to the recording studio and found the door ajar. And she knew Michael was there. Knocking softly, he waited for him to acknowledge her presence.

“Come in.”

His voice was calm, controlled.

When Lisa entered the room, Michael’s back was still turned to her. He still wore his pajama pants, but had put a black hoodie over his t-shirt. Lisa stared at his broad shoulders, his hair – graying on the scruff of his neck. His head was perfectly still despite the music resounding against the padded walls. His hand rested on the mixing board, motionless.

“Michael?” Lisa detected caution in her own tone.

He turned the volume down.

“Yes?”

“Da!” Kellen wiggles his feet and Michael spun on his chair. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and looked tired. As if he hadn’t slept at all.

“Hi, baby boy.” He smiled, just a tiny little smile, and yet, he stood perfectly still. A huge red flag. Usually, the first thing Michael would do in the morning, every morning after seeing his youngest son, was to hug him and kiss his head. But not today. Today he looked exhausted and it seemed that the weight of the world was on his shoulders again. Lisa swallowed.

“What’s going on?”

He stared at her for a moment, the smile still on his lips, but not really reaching his eyes. Then he shrugged.

“Not much. I was just fooling around. I couldn’t sleep.”

Lisa’s eyes narrowed.

“Yeah… I thought so. Why?”

Another shoulder-shrug.

“Not sure.”

“Why didn’t you come back to bed?”

“Because I didn’t wanna wake you up.”

She studied him, trying hard to look inconspicuous. He was still good at keeping his mask in place, but she knew him. Something was wrong – she just had no idea what it was. Then it came back to her.

“Who called, last night?”

“What?”

“Your phone rang. I remember. Who was it?”

Once again that look into his eyes. Hunted, haunted. And then it was gone.

“Oh… Just a friend from L.A.”

Right… One of the few friends he had left in Los Angeles. One of those who knew the whole truth – something not even she knew. Because Michael wanted to protect her. That’s what he had told her, again and again, in the past two years.

“About?”

“Nothing important.”

He was clamming up. And Kellan was starting to become unmanageable, trying very hard to climb down and crawl over to his father. Lisa decided to let it go for now.

“Hey… Your son’s getting a bit antsy. Could you please… You know, take care of the girls and drive them to school?”

Michael seemed to ponder about a question that Lisa shouldn’t have even asked, since taking the twins to school was something Michael gladly volunteered to do almost on a daily basis.

He got up from the chair.

“Sure… I’ll go take a shower, first, alright?”

He brushed past her and took Kellan’s little hand into his big one for a moment, then placed a kiss on Lisa’s cheek. And then he was gone.

What the fuck was going on? Lisa mouthed the words without saying them out loud.

She had to wait another couple of hours before Riley called her, to tell her about the movie. A film that was going to premiere at a famous international festival. And that depicted Michael as the monster he had never been.

“Be silent and listen: have you recognized your madness and do you admit it? Have you noticed that all your foundations are completely mired in madness? Do you not want to recognize your madness and welcome it in a friendly manner? You wanted to accept everything. So accept madness too. Let the light of your madness shine, and it will suddenly dawn on you. Madness is not to be despised and not to be feared, but instead you should give it life…If you want to find paths, you should also not spurn madness, since it makes up such a great part of your nature…Be glad that you can recognize it, for you will thus avoid becoming its victim. Madness is a special form of the spirit and clings to all teachings and philosophies, but even more to daily life, since life itself is full of craziness and at bottom utterly illogical. Man strives toward reason only so that he can make rules for himself. Life itself has no rules. That is its mystery and its unknown law. What you call knowledge is an attempt to impose something comprehensible on life.”
― C.G. Jung, The Red Book: A Reader’s Edition

That day, while making phone calls and surfing the internet trying to get a grasp on what was going on, Lisa waited for Michael to come back home after dropping the twins at school. The news was horrifying and she was fuming. She was also bewildered and worried about him, and wanted to make sure he was taking the mess as best as he could. Knowing well that he was suffering. The point was that Michael was not coming home and Lisa was getting nervous.

However, after a bit he sent her a text – telling her that he would be late, that he wanted to take a walk in the woods. Trying to circumvent the subject and not really wanting to talk about it this way, Lisa offered to go with him, but Michael refused, stating that he needed to be alone for a bit.

Alone. Hadn’t he been alone enough, those seven years he had spent away from everything and everyone?

He came home hours later, with Harper and Finley, after picking them up from school, and locked himself into his study. Lisa had to fight against the instinct to yank the door open with a battering ram – considering how worried sick she was at that point. She knew exactly what was wrong with him. He was slipping back into the old nightmare, folding into himself. And this time, he had been hung out to dry even more than before: the lies would be broadcast worldwide, and he had no defenses, because for the rest of the world he was no longer alive. He was fair game. Anything could be said about him with no repercussion whatsoever.

She managed to see him again only later that evening, when he finally reemerged from his study – looking like someone who had just seen a ghost. Just once before Lisa had seen this new Michael so disheveled, and it had been when she had opened her eyes again after her coma, one year earlier. He had been desperate then, but seemed hopeless now. Hopeless and livid.

When he opened the door and found her there, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest, her head ducked to a side and that worried look into her eyes, his gaze had dropped. He had shaken his head, as if he couldn’t find the words. Because he couldn’t. Then, after a bit…

“You been there the whole time?”

“Yeah…”

“Why…”

Without any more words, Lisa had stepped closer and gone into his personal space, unafraid and valiant. She had rested her hands on his shoulders and had searched his eyes, finding them reddened and puffy. Their darkness scorching, albeit distant. Then she had pulled him into her embrace. Her body so little and lithe, and yet able to comfort him, at least for a while. Him leaning against her, allowing her to support him.

At least for a while…

From that moment on, and for the following weeks, it all became a constant emotional rollercoaster. The headlines, the reviews, the social media, people talking, judging – or better, misjudging him for something he had never done. Pseudo-journalists and copypaste scribblers being judge, jury and executioner. Trial by media – for the umpteenth time, when Michael thought that part of his old life was finally over. Too many people were unable to see the motivation that guided two men who used to be friends of Michael’s, and who had backstabbed him for the vilest, meanest, lamest reason. Money. And some weird sense of entitlement. The betrayal too intolerable, albeit unsurprising, given the circumstances.

Michael and Lisa spent nights awake, dissecting everything they knew about the film. Enraged and outraged, both of them. Lisa too remembered those accusers. She had met them, she knew exactly who they were. She had never liked them one bit. She had always put them in the category of those leeching off the man she loved. Even back then, she had told Michael that she was under the impression that at least one of those boys’ mother had a crush on him. The lady wanted Michael to nail her, and that was why her entire family had chased him relentlessly.

He had laughed it off. But Lisa knew she had been right.

Right now, so many years later, a different Michael – tattered and burned by too many events in his life – went through a different series of emotions.

Initially, he was shell-shocked. Then baffled and sickened. Then he became enraged – rightfully so, in all honesty. Then he started to feel weak and powerless. Red-hot fury ensued. Then it turned into an immense sadness, and Lisa noticed how hard he was struggling to keep the tears at bay. Which was more news, since this new Michael had become tougher and way less sentimental, in the years when he had been a little more than a hermit, and certainly didn’t cry as easily as he did in the past.

At first she had missed that part of him, wondering if the constant battering had managed to make him numb, but then she had realized that it wasn’t that he was no longer soft, or a sensitive soul. Michael was still an incredible empath, but he had soldiered on for so long, and so much, that his ability to cry had decreased considerably. It was as if the intense pain he used to feel in his old life would now find its way out in the open only when it was really worth it. Just when he could not help it. And yet this time, Lisa noticed his eyes welling up.

Then the tears were gone, and he was walling up again, squaring his jaw, straightening his back and going to his study again, telling Lisa that he needed to make some “phone calls” to “people who knew more about this fucking shit.”

She could only do so much. She knew how powerless they all were. And right then and there, she knew she had to let him go. Trust him. Which had become the easiest thing to do, now. In the years she had spent away from him, she had replayed their relationship in her mind countless times, and for the very first time she had completely, utterly understood him. His defense mechanisms. His choices. His behaviors. His fears. His oddities. His uniqueness which, in the end, was what had made it so easy for her to fall in love with him. Where once there had been so many doubts and so much insecurity, now there was nothing but complete understanding.

When it seemed to her that the worst was over, when it seemed that things were going to get better despite the subtly coercive film still being out there in the open – as if trying to defraud someone defenseless and without one shred of evidence was the most normal thing in the world – it became clear that the pile of crap would be broadcast on television and streamed online, all over the world. The planetary shame for something Michael had not done. Not to anyone, and certainly not to those former friends – grifters – who now accused him.

Lisa begged him not to watch, and Michael asked her to please let him watch the film alone, because he had to know. And there was something in the way he stared at her, as he spoke, that destroyed her inside. In his eyes there was something she had seen so many years earlier – in 1993, before they got married the first time. When she had stood by him through the storm of the first false allegations. Which were nothing but a clear attempt at extortion. If only the media had reported it for what it so obviously was, if only they hadn’t had a field day belittling and finally humiliating the human god, that whole thing would not have become the blueprint for the bunch of scumbags who had come after. Those who had decided that getting money from Michael was the easiest thing to do, after all, because you didn’t even have to go to the police. Why should you, when all you had were lies and no evidence? The tabloids were going to be your best ally anyway. They were going to spread your story as if it were the truth. And burn the monster. Even when the monster was dead.

Lisa still remembered how she would hold Michael during those long winter nights, in 1993. How she would kiss away his tears and rock him to sleep. How she had wanted to personally strangle those bastards exploiting him, hurting him.

Wasn’t it absurd that she was doing the same thing now?

Well… not exactly the same thing, given that Michael had decided that he wanted to face this alone. Without her. He had asked her to please let him watch the thing on his own first, just to know what he was up against. Not having done anything wrong, he had no idea what he had to expect. Neither had she – despite having a good grasp after reading the salacious articles posted online by pseudo-journalists salivating all over what they perceived as the final smearing of an icon.

As Michael watched the movie, locked inside his study, Lisa once again had stood right outside the closed door, shivering, her body buzzing. Sitting on the wall-to-wall carpeting, her back leaned against the wall. Hearing the muffled voices coming from Michael’s laptop. Making out half of the words – and they were more than enough to make her see red.

Every now and then, she would hear Michael curse.

And then at one point, she had heard a commotion coming from inside. As if Michael had risen from the chair abruptly. Then she had heard him run to his private bathroom. She had heard him being shaken by the retching caused by sudden nausea. And she had started to cry.

“It’s patterns,” he said. “If they think you’re a hero, they’re wrong. After you die, you don’t get to be Beowulf or Perseus or Rama anymore. Whole different set of rules. Chess, not checkers. Go, not chess. You understand?”
― Neil Gaiman, American Gods

And then Michael started to change.

At first, it was about food. Since she had met him, Lisa had known that Michael wasn’t much of an eater. He would eat just because he needed food to survive, but he had never been a gourmand. However, since he had been forced to change his appearance he had made it a point to keep his bodyweight stable – and that required regular and quite abundant eating. With time, and especially since they had moved to Ròs House, Michael had started to appreciate good cooking. Miss Emma’s magical powers in the kitchen sure helped, and so did the fact that Lisa would ask Michael to cook with her – or for her – sometimes.

Eating had finally become a pleasure. Something she and Michael would indulge in during meals, and sometimes in bed, between their intense lovemaking sessions.

However, a few weeks after the film came out Lisa noticed that he had started to lose weight. That he would play with his food, and often leave half of it in his plate. Other times, he didn’t have lunch or dinner at all. Which brought a lot of consequences – Lisa once again getting worried sick, Miss Emma eying Michael with concern, and him retreating into his own armor, like a porcupine.

One day, as they were having dinner, he left the table while the second course was being served. His face was pale and he was sweating. He looked on the verge of a panic attack.

“Excuse me. I need to go back upstairs. I’m so sorry. Please, continue – don’t worry about me.”

On the verge of calling him Michael instead of Ethan, Lisa bit her tongue.

“Baby… You OK?”

He replied by offering her a weak smile.

“Yeah. I’m good. I’m just not really hungry right now.”

“You want me to come upstairs with you? Keep you company, maybe?”

“No… It’s fine.” He gently touched Lisa’s hand on the table, then got up. “Miss Emma – I apologize. It’s not about the food. It’s delicious, as usual.”

Miss Emma just smiled at him, very sweetly. And kept watching him as he slumped his shoulders and walked over to the main stairs leading to the upper floor. His head hanging low.

When Michael disappeared from her view, Lisa put her fork back in the plate and sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Miss Lisa…”

“Yes, Miss Emma.” Doing her best not to let her own discomfort seep through too much, she looked up at the cook and grinned.

“I’m sorry Mister Ethan is so upset.”

Lisa nodded, not really knowing how to reply to that. Yeah, she too was sorry Michael was upset. And she was concerned – because at this point it was apparent that what was going on was taking a toll on him. It was even worse than she had fathomed.

Miss Emma opened her mouth to say something, then closed it in hesitance. She bit her lip. “Can I sit with you for a moment, Miss Lisa?”

“Of course you can.” Lisa smiled. “Why don’t you also have dinner with me? I don’t like eating alone…”

Nodding her head politely, Emma sat across the table, seemingly lost in thought for a minute. She didn’t touch the food.

“Am I allowed to speak freely?”

“Sure…” Lisa frowned, trying to guess her intentions. “You know you can always speak your mind.”

“Thank you. I was just thinking… Mister… Ethan is upset about that… movie, right? That film everyone keeps talking about. I’m sorry it is impacting you both so much.”

Lisa felt a shiver run down her spine. She thought she and Michael had been pretty good at keeping this shit private, whenever the staff was around. Then why did Miss Emma seem to be a mind reader? Trying to buy time, she reached out and touched Kellan’s head lovingly. He was secured in his high chair and was playing with a little mountain of mashed potatoes in his plate. He was also making a mess.

“I think – Well, he just has a lot going on right now, you know. Especially work-wise.” She was totally not prepared for this. And still had no idea where the conversation was going.

Miss Emma kept staring at her own hands, clasped over the table. Lisa could tell that she was nervous.

“If it is of any consolation… my husband and I do not believe what those accusers say in that film.”

“Did you and Marcus watch it?”

The older lady blushed.

“Yes.”

Lisa just nodded and cleared her throat.

“I don’t believe them either.”

“Well…” Miss Emma fidgeted on the seat. “I think you know for sure they’re lying. Since… Well…”

“Yeah – I do.”

The cook just took in Lisa’s words, and silence seemed to fill the room. Kellan babbled, then put the spoon in his mouth, his eyes unfocused on something indefinite. Lisa wondered if the baby had noticed that his daddy had become so remote. Colder. Disconnected. Even toward him.

“And I think Mister Ethan knows too.” Miss Emma swallowed, hard. “Because he’s a sensitive, kind, generous guy and I think he has… this ability to see what’s inside of people, you know. The good in them. But also the evil… Finally.”

Finally? What an odd choice of words.

Lisa couldn’t do anything but look at the lady who, finally, had found the courage to stare back at her. Emma’s eyes were open and honest. She smiled, as if she felt at least partly relieved by the conversation, and rose from the chair.

“Well… I think I’ll go back to work now. I still have a few things to take care of, before Marcus and I leave.”

“Thank you, Miss Emma.” Lisa reached out and touched her hand briefly. The lady took Lisa’s hand and held it in between her own for a moment.

“Whatever you and the sir need, me and my husband are here to help.” Her hold on Lisa’s hand tightened for just a second as she stared at her, the unsaid suddenly clear between the two of them. “Miss Lisa… I’m glad he’s… you know…”

“What?” At this point, Lisa needed her to say it. To say out loud what it had become increasingly evident.

Miss Emma sighed and let go of Lisa’s hand, straightening her back. Her face serene.

“Alive, ma’am. I’m glad he’s alive.” Another sigh. “And please, don’t worry about me… or Marcus. We too just want to protect him… and you.”

And so… Miss Emma, and Marcus, knew who Michael really was. Lisa could only imagine how long they had known. And she had no idea how it had happened. She was afraid to ask, and so she stayed quiet. Given how impenetrable Michael’s new identity was, the discovery surprised her but, in the grand scheme of things and in a world that suddenly seemed to have turned upside down, their most loyal staff guessing who hid behind the mask of Ethan Murphy was the least of her concerns.

Michael was her biggest concern right now.

Nutrition wasn’t the only thing that had changed about him, since he had been blindsided and injured by the latest smearing campaign. His relationship with the kids – all of them, including his newborn son – too had become different.

Michael looked and acted as if he had retreated into himself and couldn’t bring himself to spend more time than necessary with the children. Once naturally affectionate, curious, playful and involved in everything that concerned his son, he now seemed to have taken a step back, asking Lisa to please take his place. Getting up at night whenever Kellan would cry. Rocking the baby back to sleep. Bathing him or feeding him. Changing his diaper or playing with him. It wasn’t that Michael didn’t want to do it. It was more like he couldn’t – and Lisa was so stunned by his behavior that she had no idea how to approach the subject.

She hoped, with all her heart, that it was nothing but a momentary crisis and that Michael would get back on track as soon as the dust settled.

But the dust seemed to turn into a sandstorm and, when spring arrived, Lisa started to think that she might be losing her husband.

Ròs House, Scotland, Spring 2019

“So don’t be frightened, dear friend, if a sadness confronts you larger than any you have ever known, casting its shadow over all you do. You must think that something is happening within you, and remember that life has not forgotten you; it holds you in its hand and will not let you fall. Why would you want to exclude from your life any uneasiness, any pain, any depression, since you don’t know what work they are accomplishing within you?”
― Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

How quick could a life that you had struggled so hard to rebuild for yourself, turn into something you didn’t recognize anymore?

It was inevitable: what was going on now reminded Lisa of what had generated the avalanche that had pushed her and Michael to divorce, so many years earlier. They had allowed themselves to be overwhelmed by everything that was happening around them. Instead of holding onto one another, trusting one another and growing together, they had let go, becoming weaker and way more vulnerable in the process.

She was much more of a hothead back then. She had very little patience. She loved Michael to pieces but had no solution at hand anymore and didn’t know how to fix what was broken. And so the destruction had begun. Stupid, stupid move to think you can always rewind and redo. Something you just couldn’t do it. In 2009, in June, she had realized what those words meant exactly. Michael was gone at a moment when she would not have expected it. She wasn’t with him, despite caressing the idea of seeing him again very soon, and maybe even…

But the moment that plan had taken shape in her mind, he was no longer. Her hope had been torn to pieces. Her hubris had been finally punished. She had delayed and delayed what her heart had always recognized as inevitable up until the point that it was too late to do anything. And then the eternal mourning had begun.

She had mourned him many times before, but this, of course, was different. How could he possibly come back from this? He couldn’t. Then how could she?

And then, years later, when every hope was obviously gone, and the only thing she knew was that she would meet him again at one point, somehow, but not in this life, Michael had returned.

Starting again from there had meant promising they would not let go this time. Come hell or high water. But what about now? How was Lisa supposed not to lose a man that was losing himself in the darkness and shadows or the past, of a parallel life that kept chewing on him? And for no other reason but greed.

The movie, and everything that floated around it – the personalities involved, the obvious media and political agenda, the power struggles, the financial interests – had thrown Michael off kilter more than she had initially imagined and, maybe, even more than he himself was prepared for.

It was now the end of March. Such a fitting month, considering that all this felt like the Ides of March. The betrayers were effectively trying to assassinate their Caesar – for the umpteenth time. Only, this time Lisa was not going to allow it, because Caesar, not the public persona but the human being, was the man she loved and with whom she had promised to spend the rest of her life. And she wasn’t willing to let that life end anytime soon.

Since January, Michael had lost weight, slept very little, interacted even less with the kids and not touched Lisa at all. He was in hiding, hidden within himself. So far his health was still good, but Lisa was concerned that his lupus might flare up after so many years of fortunate dormancy. Well, fuck this all to hell.

Michael’s reaction and unexpected remoteness had frozen her to the point that she didn’t dare say anything. When he had first rebuffed her in bed, gently but with determination, she had only thought he had too much in his mind and was not in the mood for making love. After a while, it became clear that there was so much more hiding beneath the surface of his disconnected, alienated approach to life.

He would either spend his days obsessively looking for information and making phone calls to the US or staring into space, his eyes fixed on the vast park surrounding the house, outside the window. Or he would spend hours in the gym, exhausting himself, or outside, walking on the beach. Alone. Countless times Lisa had asked him to please let her go with him, and he had always refused, except for once. And that only time he had not uttered a word. When Lisa had taken his hand as they walked, however, he had let her. Thankfully.

But that was not enough. Not anymore.

Lisa’s anxiety was turning into panic. It felt like watching him become more and more blurred against a horrible background turning clearer and more detailed by the minute. It had to stop. She knew Michael didn’t like feeling cornered, and yet she thought it was time to risk it all. For him. For them both. For their family.

And so one day, she asked the babysitter to please take care of Kellan for the afternoon. The twins were with their father for the weekend. It was Saturday and the weather wasn’t complacent. It was pouring down, and the temperature was chilly for a spring day. Well, good. Lisa had planned to keep Michael inside the house anyway and not let him roam around like a frantic nutcase.

She thought she was going to find him in his study, since lately he would always make excuses to lock himself in there and be alone, but this time the room was empty. She had been busy in the recording studio the whole morning, writing lyrics for her new album but also planning her next move with Michael, and had lost sight of him for a bit. What was this constantly checking the house to find out where he was? Since when their home had become a maze with no entry and no exit, only perpetual wandering?

Sighing, she went into the master bedroom to retrieve her cell phone and try to call him and heard the water running in the bathroom. Stopping mid-track, Lisa cautiously walked over to the door. Michael had left it ajar and she pushed it open.

“Mike?”

He was standing in front of the huge mirror above the sink, wearing a pair of loose pants and a white shirt. The shirt was crumpled on his back. Lisa’s eyes narrowed and she moved to a side, needing to see his face in the mirror.

His gaze found her and she noticed the can of shaving foam in his hand.

“What are you doing?”

“I was going to shave.”

She didn’t like the sound of it.

“You don’t need to shave. You look fine.”

Michael’s head dropped and he let out a long sigh. He placed the shaving cream back on the sink. He scratched his beard.

“I meant… shave it all off. I’m thinking ‘bout going back, Lise… and take care of it all personally.”

The whole room started to spin.

“What?!” This time she walked over to him, her hand reaching out to touch his back but then falling flat, hanging by her side instead. She still remembered the feeling of being rejected – since she had experienced it many times during the last handful of months. It was awful. But this fuckery crossing his mind was even worse.

“Yeah…” He kept avoiding her eyes. “That way, I can – you know… find a way to hold them accountable for the bullshit they been spreading ‘bout me. All of them. Drag their asses to court. Skin them alive. Have them regret the day they thought they could cross me…” He set his jaw. “All of them. After everything I’ve done for them.”

Lisa wanted to yell. She wanted to grab him and shake him and hope his brain would rattle back into place. Because he now sounded as if he was losing his mind. Going back into the wolves’ den? Because of the parasites on the giant? However, she managed to stay calm and her voice sounded quiet and even when she spoke again.

“You know better than I do that it would be a risky move.” To say the fucking least. But the understatement of the year was the best she could come up with, right now.

“I know, but I don’t think I can take it any longer. Not like this. They have been doing this shit because they think they can. Well, that’s not true. They cannot do that.” His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so tight that his knuckles turned white.

He was right, though. They felt invulnerable and protected only because he could not defend himself and they had no idea he knew. Hell, they had no idea that just his public persona had died. However, nothing changed in the grand scheme of things. Michael had left and disappeared because his life was in grave danger, and even after all those years, it was evident that he could not go back to who he once was and hope to be safe. Those who had pulled all the right strings to get rid of him were still all solidly at their place, that much Lisa understood. Michael couldn’t go back. Not now, possibly not ever. And just like that she knew – if she let him go now, he would be lost forever. He would never come home again.

“Michael… Baby…” Once again her hand came up, this time resting on his forearm. His eyes moved and found her in the reflection of the mirror. “Come with me? Please? So we can talk?”

She saw him swallow. He looked so tense, like a violin cord. The internal struggle was apparent. He had been like that for weeks, no wonder he was so exhausted.

The moment felt charged and heavy, and for a second she thought he would say no – to leave him alone and let him do his thing. But then he nodded.

“OK…”

Exhaling a deep breath, she took his hand and guided him to their bedroom, then to their bed. She made him sit and sat down by his side, just holding his big, cold hand sandwiched in between her smaller, warmer ones.

“I wanted all my life to be about my art… and I tried to do as much good as I could with it.”

“I know.”

“I never did those things… To anyone.”

“I know, baby…” God, why was he telling her that? She fucking knew he hadn’t!

“I don’t wanna be tarnished by something I haven’t done. I don’t want this to happen again, I don’t want my kids to be ashamed of me.”

“Nobody who loves you is ashamed of you, Mike.” She held his hand tighter.

He scoffed, his eyes downcast, his shoulders slumped. He seemed older all of a sudden. And tired. It seemed like he didn’t believe her. Fighting against the instinct of just throwing herself all over him and be the one finding comfort and solace in his embrace, Lisa reached over and took her smartphone from the nightstand instead.

Flipping and clicking through the apps, she turned the screen in his direction.

“You saw these?”

Michael turned his head ever so slightly.

“I can’t make out the words.”

He was still grumpy, but it looked like he was starting to let her in. Finally. Lisa rolled her eyes in pretend annoyance.

“Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re old and blind.” Opening his drawer, in the nightstand, she found his reading glasses. “There you go, grandpa.”

She put the phone in his hand and waited, just staring at him as he scrolled down the endless threads.

“Yeah…” He whispered. “I know they been doing this…”

“I don’t think you realize the magnitude of their love for you. Not because you can’t, ‘cause you can, but because you haven’t seen this like I did. Baby…” Her hand came to rest against his back. “These people… of all ages, from all over the world, they’re doing all they can to protect you. And they’re succeeding. They’re standing fast and they aren’t relenting. They won’t. Don’t underestimate what they can do.”

He stayed quiet, his eyes welling up. He did nothing to stop the tears this time.

“I know they love me.”

“Damn right, they do. And they want you to be safe. In every way that counts… You think they would want you in danger?” She turned to him fully and searched his eyes. “You really think whoever loves you would want to know you’re putting your life at risk because of… Hell, I don’t even know how to define them. These little pricks. You don’t owe them, baby. This shit’s gonna fix itself eventually. The tide will be turning soon. We just have to keep holding up.”

“You really think so?”

“Yeah. I do. At one point, it just has to end.” They stared at each other. She reached over and cradled his face in the palm of her hand. “Besides… I need you, Kellan needs you. Our family needs you. The whole world needs you – no matter where they think you are, alive or… you know, heavenly ascended. They still need you. That’s why you gotta be safe.”

He scrunched his forehead, trying to dominate his emotions, and Lisa too felt like crying all of a sudden.

“Please, Michael… Stay with us. Stay with me.” She stroked his cheek and her hand slid down, resting on the side of his neck. She held onto him. “I am not saying this because I think you’re weak. I know how strong you are. You’re the strongest man I know. What I’m asking you, is to survive this and not let it drag you away. To please not leave again. ‘Cause I’m afraid I wouldn’t make it this time. None of us would… not even them.” She tilted her head in the direction of the phone.

“Lisa…”

Her fingertips covered his lips, ever so lightly, silencing his implicit objection.

“I don’t know where you been going for the past two months but… I miss you so much. You gotta come back. Do you think…” Rolling her eyes, she tried to smile. “Do you think you can come back to me? ‘Cause Mike, I feel like I’m losing you. Like you’re slipping through my fingers and I don’t know how to stop you. And it’s fucking scary.”

“You’re not losing me.” Michael’s hand closed around her wrist and held it. The contact warm and electrifying. “You’ll never lose me. You know that.”

“Michael – I don’t know if you noticed, but we haven’t even made love in like… forever.”

He blushed and fidgeted, his gaze dropping again.

“Well… I’m older now.”

“Dude…” Lisa side-eyed him and he just mumbled something. Oh no – he was not going to wall up again! She had to keep pushing.

“Hey, I’m not thirty… or forty anymore, Lise.”

“Yeah? Didn’t look like it all those nights you kept me awake ‘because you’d never have enough.”

The blushing on his face intensified and Lisa grinned. She knew she was making him feel uncomfortable, but she also had the best intentions. She was prodding him just the right way. Anyway, she had to push her own frustration to a side for a moment. There were more significant issues to sort out, first.

“Babe… Forget about us for a second. You don’t even spend time with our son anymore. Or with the girls. And that is… unsettling. Why is that?”

He winced, then shook his head.

“I feel like this whole mess has… tainted me. I am afraid to get closer to anyone. I don’t want them to catch up and realize how upset I am.”

“Why? Don’t you think being a dad might help you feel better? You love being a dad, honey…” Lisa’s voice was nothing but a whisper, now. She was not expecting that. Not even when things had been shitty before he had said something like that.

He sighed and glanced up at her, almost bashfully.

“So… You OK with me being around the kids?”

Lisa was stunned. What had this shit done to him?

“Mike – What the… Of course I am! What are you saying?”

Michael responded with a vague, hopeless shoulder-shrug. Verbalizing his confusion was difficult. The magnitude of his suffering too hard to imagine. She guessed he had read the stupid things some scribblers had copypasted about him. Reinterpreting each and every one of his behaviors and gestures in a sinister way that never existed. Of course he felt tainted. Not because those people were right, but because their filth had gotten to him. Spread inside of his soul like a disease. But it was their filth and their evil, not his.

Lisa dropped onto her knees and stood in between his legs. Her position was akin to a silent prayer. She framed his face with both hands, not allowing him any way out. She needed him to look at her straight in the eyes because the message she had to convey was so important.

“Michael, I have never, ever doubted you. Not once. Not for a minute. You must know that. Even when things between the two of us were at their shittiest, I knew your heart. I know you. And I know you’re not the man those sick bastards want you to be.”

He stared at her for what felt like forever, his eyes so dark and inscrutable. Lisa almost held her breath, hoping her words would find their way through the fog of his pain.

“OK…”

“OK?”

“Yeah, OK.” He turned his face slightly and kissed her palm. The small gesture almost made her cry. It had been so long since he had done something apparently so insignificant, and yet so intimate.

“And by the way… You’re an amazing father. You’re incredible. Your son needs to have you around. The twins need their stepdad, as well.” She caressed his cheek. How amazing it felt to be touching him like this again. “And your wife… well, she too loves you very, very much, you know… She’s crazy about you, even after all these years.”

Michael was choked up, but smiled.

“And I love her too, so very, very much.”

“Good…”

“Lise… Don’t think I haven’t heard you cry when… You know…”

Right. When he had rejected her. In all honesty, she had hoped he hadn’t heard her at all. She had never wanted to cry, because she knew this was not about her. But at times, being kept at arm’s length had only exacerbated her feeling of powerlessness. How could she help him, how could she contribute to his healing, if he didn’t let her get close to him? It had terrified her to no end. She didn’t want him to ice her out ever again. Things were different now in so many ways.

“Yeah, well… Don’t worry about that.”

“No, I do. I’m sorry, I never meant to make you cry.”

“I know.” She grinned up at him and started to rise, but his hands on her shoulders stopped her. “What?”

“So you’re OK with me being around you too?”

Was he fucking serious? Shaking her head in frustration, Lisa grabbed his head and pulled him close for a sudden, deep, scorching kiss. Caught completely off guard, Michael stood almost immobile at first, letting her take the lead. It took him a few seconds to allow her to deepen the kiss, but then it happened and albeit tentative, him kissing her back felt warm and familiar. Irresistible.

Her head already buzzing, the desire and love for him incontrollable, Lisa broke the kiss and rested her forehead against his. Her breathing already affected.

“There… Now you know how much I love having you around…”

Michael’s eyes closed, then opened again. He seemed to be studying her. Then he tilted his head, ever so slightly, and his hand came up, tangling in her hair. He removed his glasses and kissed her again, and this time it felt like a well-oiled mechanism, like a symphony he knew by heart.

“Our shadow betrays us, and it goes by the road outside. When we leave, we do not meet anymore.”
― Alan Maiccon

She had cut him, no pity, and she had made him bleed. And the infection that had been ravaging him had started to pour out. It had felt so uncomfortable at first, letting her in, showing her his most vulnerable side. He thought he had changed and that it would be easier now, but the moment the hammer had come down and hit him, he had not known what to do. What to say or how to act around Lisa and his own family. He had been feeling as if he was running a fever for weeks.

And now finally the disease was leaving him. Lisa’s touch, her words, her eyes searching and finding him. Her love that, ultimately, was still the best medicine. Just like so many years earlier, when he had let her in during those heartbreaking moments, and she had done her best to heal him. And she had succeeded.

Many times afterward she had told him that his love had healed her too, from a pain so ancient that she thought she was born with it. Michael had never completely understood what she meant by that, but he could see from her eyes that she was honest. She wasn’t lying. Whatever it was that he had done to her, it had helped her coming out of her own darkness. They both were light and shadow to one another: one couldn’t exist if the other disappeared.

And he had pretty much felt like disappearing since he had heard about the news, in January. Refusing Lisa’s presence and detaching himself from the life he had so carefully rebuilt for himself hadn’t helped either and he had been adrift, without even realizing it. Like a castaway. Until she had found him – once again.

History always seemed to repeat itself and now, for the first time, Michael felt as if whatever this was, and as horrible this moment was, it would end. Eventually, the light would have to destroy the darkness and burn away the shadows. He had many enemies driven by a hunger for money and power, but he also had an army of allies. He never had been someone able to delegate the job to someone else, but this time he would have to do just that. Because he needed to survive. No – he needed to live.

The idea of going back to the US and reveal what had been of him to the whole world had started to become a distant thought the moment Lisa’s words had reached him through the mist, heart to heart. Right now, as he stared at her, still kneeling down before him, that idea of leaving her and Kellan almost turned into a drunk hallucination. A mirage. Had he really thought about putting himself at risk again because of two families of parasites that couldn’t stand having to fend for themselves, now that he was no longer there? A bunch of leeches ready to make up the most vomit-inducing fantasies just to benefit from their association with him, again?

No. They didn’t deserve anything. And certainly not his life.

As a glimpse of peace finally found its way inside his soul, spreading like warm water over a frozen limb, Michael knew that he was going to stay where he was. At home, with his family, living the life that had almost been stolen from him, protecting himself and everyone he loved in the process. From the shadows, and yet in the light. And right now, more than anything else, he needed to show Lisa that she was an integral part of his life and that he loved her – with everything he had and was. Even more than that: she was a part of him just as much as he was a part of her.

He didn’t know what had been wrong with him, lately, when it came to Lisa. Well – he only knew part of it. It was about fear. He was afraid she would be so shaken by what people were saying about him, that she would look at him differently. Or even worse, maybe she wouldn’t want him anymore. The paralyzing terror of being rejected and left for something he had not done had turned into remoteness and refusal to get closer to the only woman he wanted by his side. Maybe, just maybe, if he didn’t give in when she made a move on him, he wouldn’t have to wonder if she was touching him, kissing him, just because she wanted to comfort him, and not because she loved him. Because the idea of Lisa pitying him was intolerable to him. Michael had always been stubborn. Sometimes, his obstinacy didn’t allow him to see what was right in front of his eyes.

Until now.

Now it felt as if a veil had been lifted from his face and he could finally see his woman. He saw the look in her eyes. An odd mixture of love, desire and hesitance. Maybe… Well, maybe Lisa too felt insecure now. Sure as hell he hadn’t done much to reassure her about their connection, in the past couple of months.

Still a bit unsure, Michael kissed her one more time and allowed himself to get lost in that kiss and the amazing feeling of her soft lips. The scent of her hair and her skin. The touch of her hands on his face as she, too, relaxed. All so familiar and new, every time. When Lisa sighed against his lips, it felt like a breeze chasing the clouds away.

“Lise…”

“Mh…” Her eyes were closed. She blindly outlined his face with her fingertips, as if she was rediscovering him.

Michael swallowed.

“I need to make love to you…”

Still not opening her eyes, she smiled.

“Do you? Thank goodness…”

He chuckled, all the while feeling choked by tears. She was a nut. And he was so in love with her.

“Yeah….” He whispered against her lips. “I do…”

He realized how much he wanted her, needed her. How much he had missed her. From her shoulders, his hands moved back and to the zipper of her dress, pulling it open. His mouth still on hers, he felt her tangling her fingers in his hair and the familiarity of it almost destroyed him inside. How had he managed to survive without this for so long?

Pulling her dress down, he reveled in the feeling of Lisa’s naked skin under his palms. She was so smooth and warm and soft. His kisses traveled south, toward her neck, as she started caressing his shoulders and chest, her movements way tamer than usual. Michael knew he had done that, and now aimed at undoing it. She needed to know that he wanted her, that he had always wanted her. Never leaving her mouth, never getting enough of her kisses, he let her trace his torso, up and down, then unbutton his shirt slowly. Her fingers run across his naked chest, under the fabric, making him shiver.

What had he told her? That he was older, now? Lame excuse. Yes, he was older. But not less aroused by her. He still wanted her just like the very first time. And just like the very first time, his body responded to her call right away.

Taking her hand, Michael brought it down gently and rested it against his crotch, his eyes closed, her tongue in his mouth feeling like the sweetest torture imaginable. Lisa whimpered in the kiss and he felt himself inflate some more. The power his lady had over him… He didn’t think she knew what tsunami she could provoke inside of him. The inner storm she would always unleash.

Lisa touched him and it felt like an electric shock. It was nothing but a slight caress at first and he knew he needed more, so much more. He needed all of her. Reaching down himself, he started to take care of his pants.

Lisa broke the kiss and stared at him, her blue-green eyes moist and glazed over, then glanced down.

“Oh… no, let me… Lie back, love…” She pushed him back gently until he was resting on his back, and she came up on the bed again, sitting astride him, her strong and beautiful thighs at the mercy of his touch as he became her willing captive.

Michael ran his hands up and down her legs, recognizing the sinewy texture of her skin, the play of her muscles. Lisa had legs to die for, and that had never changed. She was still the most beautiful woman he had laid eyes on, and he stared at her as she helped him take off his shirts, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, then rose and pulled them down, dropping them on the floor.

Lisa sat back on him, the pressure of her warm center against his groin delicious, and he smiled up at her.

“You need to get rid of them clothes, baby girl…”

She arched an eyebrow and gave him one of her lopsided smirks.

“Oh, right… My bad…”

In no time flat, and in a very sexy way, Lisa managed to slip out of her dress and stood there in her matching bra and panties. Drop-dead gorgeous. She raked her hair back and then rested her hands on Michael’s solid chest, staring down at him with her hooded eyes.

“Better?”

“Much better…” He caressed her thighs again, then reached back and cupped her ass. How did she manage to have such a fine, fine body? She was his own personal fairytale. Magic!

“Alright… What now, babe? What do you want?” Her index finger traced a route from his collarbone down to his flat, muscular abdomen, then touched the elastic band of his boxers. “What can I do for you? God, you’re so gorgeous, Michael. Still so majestic…”

What can I do for you.

If Lisa was trying to make him lose his mind, she was certainly succeeding. For a bit, he had thought she would be the one taking him and that he would just let himself float in the heat of her body, just letting go and relaxing… but now… well, now he was suddenly feeling the need to take her, and have her, and make her come undone, and remind her who they are – as individuals and to one another.

Sitting up he found her mouth again and, as they kept kissing, he unclasped her bra, helping her take it off. His mouth reached her breasts and Lisa arched into him, all the while coming up onto her knees again, somehow managing to get rid of her panties. Seemed like she was in a hurry. Well… he was too. Holding her into his arms he rose from the bed and turned, never leaving her mouth, taking a minute to just stand there and enjoying the intimate feeling of her body clinging to his. He gently deposited her on the comforter and lay down on top of her.

Lisa’s fingernails scraped his naked back.

“I love feeling your weight on me…”

As a deep moan found its way through the peaceful silence of his mind, he kissed down her body, taking the time to worship every inch of her, his tongue caressing her breasts again, her sides, hip bone, then her inner thighs. He loved how her breathing sounded already impacted, how she shivered under his kisses. He loved smelling the intoxicating scent of her arousal and knowing that he was still able to turn her on. This was their intimacy. This was their normalcy. This was part of what made them extraordinary.

Staring at the beauty of her sex, Michael lowered his head and took her slowly, savoring the moment, finding himself – and her – in the process. The way her body arched against him, the feeling of her hand on his head as she stroked his hair and, all the while, pushed him down and against her made him smile in between kisses. When she came, he realized he was thrilled and didn’t let up, guiding her through another climax within seconds.

“Oh shit… Stop… You’re too good…” She sounded breathless. Her voice was raspy, in the sexiest possible way. Smiling again, Michael looked up and the blue of her eyes was everything he saw. Her face was flushed as she was beyond beautiful.

Lisa grinned and bit her lip. “I need you to slow down a bit, big guy…”

“What… You know how I roll…” Once again he bent his head and languidly lapped at her flesh, making her moan. Then he kissed a scorching path up her body and searched her mouth again, meeting her in a deep, breathtaking kiss.

“I thought you were too old for this…” Her hand came down in between them and slid inside his boxers. It was his turn to catch his breath.

“I said older…”

“Uh-uhm… Doesn’t feel like it at all…” The words were murmured in between kisses bestowed on his neck. Kisses and little bites. His body covered in goosebumps and all of a sudden it occurred to him that he hadn’t made love to her in weeks… and that he probably wouldn’t last long if her little hand kept torturing him that way.

As if reading his mind, she reached around and grabbed his firm ass, then pushed his underwear down.

“Take these off… Please, come here… I need you…”

He complied, of course, and Lisa sat up, kissing his shoulder, his collarbone, reaching down again, holding him, stroking him. Her other hand pressing against his chest, forcing him to stand onto his knees again as her kisses descended on him. Oh, shit… So much for taking it easy.

Unable to keep his eyes off her, Michael ran his fingers through her hair and watched her as she venerated his body with her mouth. His lips slightly parted, eyes narrowed, heartbeat racing, he let her kiss him everywhere, loving the gentleness of her touch, her quiet efforts to make him feel totally comfortable with what they were doing. Not that she needed to do anything, really. He was more than contented right now. The looming darkness was gone. Or, if it wasn’t, the light was too blinding for the shadows to be able to do any real damage.

“Lisa…”

She let go of him and glanced up. Michael traced the side of her face, then her lips.

“Lie down…”

Smiling sweetly, she took his hands and pulled him with her. They kissed for what felt like centuries, then he guided himself against her center. Just caressing her at first, making her shiver and whimper, driving her crazy with desire until she closed her arms around his neck and whispered into his ear.

“Take me… I miss you so much…”

He too had missed her to the point of not really knowing what to do with himself.

Entering her again felt like dipping into a wonderful, soft, enveloping furnace. He had almost forgotten the soul-shattering sensation of drowning into her tight body. He allowed her a moment to get used to him again, trying hard to control himself against the pulsing feeling of being engulfed by her heat.

“I love you, baby girl… So much.” Leaning up on his elbow, Michael held her leg against his hip and started to move. Their eyes were the other anchor keeping them banded together.

He moved in slow, deep strokes, observing every single reaction. The way she gasped, her pupils dilating, her gaze turning almost unfocused at times. Concentrating on the way she held onto him, her lower body moving in perfect sync with him, meeting him with each and every thrust. The wall of fire became bigger and bigger inside of him. It started to get closer.

“Michael…”

“Yeah…”

“God… You…”

She had felt it. And he could tell that she too was struggling against the hurricane.

“I know… I can’t help it…”

“It’s OK… Fuck…”

“Let go, baby… Oh, fucking… shit…” Michael grit his teeth, feeling the impending explosion. His eyes narrowed as his thrusts became stronger and quicker.

“Oh, yeah… Please, please…” Then her eyes closed and she started to shake. And he, too, couldn’t wait any longer.

He became dust. Pulverized. Then he took shape again – back into himself. Reborn. Just existing. Ancient and new. And she – always there, never leaving him, never wavering. Her eyes a sentinel, a watchtower, a lighthouse guiding him home, ripping him away from the stormy sea.

Panting he cradled her face in his hand. Then he kissed her, his body still spasming. He felt himself still twitching inside her heat. He felt her contracting around him, not letting him go, sheltering him. He buried his face in the hollow of her neck and her hand stroked his hair gently. Her lips against his ear, kissing him. The irregular rhythm of her breathing like a metronome.

“I know you’re not leaving…”

Of course, she was talking about his body – clearly not sated yet. Older or not, he knew very well he had not turned soft. It made him grin. Magic…

However, she was also talking about something else. Something much bigger. And she was right. No, he was not leaving. He was safe now. He wasn’t alone, or forlorn.

He was home.

Soundtrack