Unraveling – Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – The bubble

Victoria, British Columbia – June 2010

“Prince? Is that Paris talking in the background?”

“Yes, dad, it’s Paris. Just… Could you wait for a second, please?”

Michael pressed the palm of his hand over his free ear, trying to tune into his son’s voice. He smiled to himself when he heard Prince ask Paris to “stop yapping for a minute”. Well… he was right. She did have a big mouth.

“OK, tell her that she can talk to me in two minutes if she wants.”

He waited, distractedly listening to the noises and voices in the background. His children were bantering, but it didn’t sound like anything serious. He could still work for a little bit, and not rush home and try to de-escalate whatever quarrel threatened to tear the house apart. Which would have been quite unlikely anyway, since his kids were all good-natured. All four of them. Michael just missed not having Ben and Riley around on a regular basis, but they were young adults now and they had to live their lives, which were still mainly in Los Angeles. Just having them come over once or twice a month and stay for the weekend would have to do.

His eyes wandered outside the window, focusing on the cityscape. He loved how his office was on the top floor of one of Victoria’s tallest buildings. Like a hawk, he could observe the whole metropolis and remain unseen. After all, he had never been afraid of heights.

A shuffle in the background.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Prince.”

“OK, she went back to her room. I think she’s mad.”

“Well, what did you tell her? Did you make her angry?”

At the other end of the line, Prince sighed.

“I really didn’t. She’s just very moody today. And she told me that she’ll talk to you when you come home.”

Michael rolled his eyes, but smirked to himself. His daughter was a force to be reckoned with, and at times could be very bossy. Of course, the silent message that Paris was sending was clear: she wanted her father to come home as soon as possible. And Michael could not blame her. In the past six months or so, he had been beyond busy with so many new projects. Although his current activity was not at all comparable to the workaholic normality of his younger years, the truth was that his kids were used to have their dad always with them. He had been there for years nonstop, never staying away from them for too long. And now things had changed a bit in that department.

“OK, then. Just let her know that we’re gonna have dinner together later. All of us. And I expect you, your brother and your sister to be done with your homework when I get back.”

“Sure, don’t worry about it.” Prince stayed quiet for a moment. “So… Will I see you in a few hours?”

Michael glanced at his watch. It was about five in the afternoon.

“Definitely.” He bit his lip. “Hey, is Lisa there?”

“She’s out, in the park. She’s playing with Logan.”

He just nodded his head and sighed.

“Alright… Tell her I said hello.”

“OK, dad. I’ll see you later.”

“Later.”

Quietly, Michael placed his smartphone on his desk and leaned back into his comfortable chair. He entwined his fingers in his lap and just stood there, lost in thought for a moment.

Was this how everything was really supposed to go? Five years into his marriage, things weren’t going as splendidly as he had initially thought. And the point was that, this time, he truly had believed that everything would be just fine. After all, he and Lisa had been through hell and back and they had survived. They were supposed to have their happily ever after. They deserved it.

Was this, their perfect happily ever after?

When they had gotten married for the second time, in that exhausted frenzy that had followed Michael’s exoneration, they had done so with the maturity of two people who were still young enough to fully enjoy life, but also old enough to know that they could choose not to screw up.

And in fact, they were still together. Only, they had grown increasingly distant in the past year, and not even the pure perfection of the baby they shared seemed to make a difference. Even though it surely helped a lot.

Of course, things were nothing like they were in the past. Silence and quiet tolerance had taken the place of explosive arguments. Michael and Lisa wouldn’t have angry make-up sex because they never really fought. They had no reason to. Nobody would ever stomp out of the room – or the house – in a fit of rage. Nobody would leave for weeks on end. Nobody would burst out crying. At least not in front of the other. On the surface, everything was perfect. And yet, it was as if their marriage was slowly descending into the quicksand of indifference and routine.

So much had changed, even though everything had somehow stayed the same. And in so many ways, Michael was cool with it. He was comfortable in that bubble. As a matter of fact, he had been the one pushing for that change, and Lisa had agreed with him at each and every step. He had been the catalyst and she had been his ally and his support system, even in the darkest days of the past five years. And there had been many of those days. She had never really uttered a protest. Unlike in the past, when her outbursts could be explosive both in a good and a bad way, Lisa had become the compliant, understanding wife that Michael thought he had always wanted by his side. Making him feel loved, accepted – no matter what.

Then why had it happened? How had they gone from never having enough of one another to asking intermediaries to say hello at their place? To rarely call each other when they were apart? And, in those unusual instances, why did they share chopped, awkward conversations, as if they had nothing left to say to one another? While in fact, Michael would have had a lot to say to Lisa. He wanted to say so much. Too bad that his vocal cords too often felt paralyzed when she was around.

His desire for emotional intimacy was effectively snuffed by what he felt were his own coping strategies. He desperately wanted to connect with his wife once again, but it was as if he could no longer remember the code to enter his own home. And if the alternative was crumbling altogether, then maybe this was a relatively small price to pay. He could keep the wound to himself. That wound that not even he knew how to define.

And there was also something else. Michael could not, for the life of him, point out the exact moment his marital crisis had begun. As of late, he had been racking his brains and trying to focus on the symptoms that had preluded the illness, so to speak, but he could not pinpoint any specific event. It was shocking to find out that a man could realize that he had been sinking into dark waters only when he was already halfway in.

However, he certainly knew that the first signs of such profound damage had appeared while he was still going through his counseling sessions, right after the trial. His therapist had told him that one of life’s most interesting phenomena was that people often rejected the very thing they sought. Which meant that, in reality, the most distant and emotionally unavailable people desperately wanted to be available and feel that connection, but were also terrified of learning the necessary coping strategies to get there.

Doctor Arthur Wells, the therapist, had also explained that the society’s conditioning could, in fact, impact emotional availability – especially in males. Michael understood. He had been requested to be strong and driven for his entire life, and his exterior softness had always, always hidden a steel core. While in fact, being emotionally available didn’t only mean being empathetic to others in general, but was also about sharing his own emotions with another person. And above all with himself.

But at that point in time, back then, Michael could not fully assess the place he was in, at least not emotionally. He also could not entirely cope with that discomfort. And so he had protected himself in the only way he could: by presenting himself as fixed, resolved, sorted out. He needed that, in order to move on. He needed to perceive himself as a good father, a good partner, a man still capable of maneuvering himself into the world. He didn’t want to give his enemies the satisfaction of seeing him broken, and even less he wanted his family to see the shattered glass of his fragmented identity.

However, there was also another problem. Michael did not believe that he could ever get to a point where his openness and authentic vulnerability would be entirely suppressed. It was just not in him. He had never been that way. He would not get there. Not with Lisa, at least.

Doctor Wells had stared at him in genuine compassion and understanding.

“Michael… What you have to accept is that’s not something you can decide beforehand. No-one can lead you to emotional availability, not even someone you are truly in love with, if you don’t want to.”

“But I do. I want to.”

“Yeah? Not right now, though. And you know why? Because the only person who can change this is the person who is presently unavailable. It’s you. Being available or not has nothing to do with love. I know you love your wife, I can tell, and I don’t have any reason to not believe you. But this is not even about her. It’s all about conditioning and your choice to continue to be that way. Or to change it.”

It was the truth. That chance, that choice, was inspired by love – but back then, it was just too great a step for Michael to take. He needed to sort out so much else first. So much that had piled up in the previous few years and had exploded during those damned false allegations. Ripping him to shreds, to the point that at times, when he stared at himself in the mirror, he didn’t even know who he was looking at.

He hadn’t realized how his relationship with Lisa would end up paying for it as well. He had taken for granted that her presence alone, hers and their newborn baby’s, would automatically fix everything and so he had waited, quietly, for things to just sort themselves out.

Sadly, he now knew that it just didn’t work that way and the most heartbreaking aspect of it was to realize that not all unhappy endings would necessarily be blatant in their manifestation. If in the past Michael had believed that marriages could only end in a dramatic fashion, as of late it had started occurring to him that, at times, relationships could die a slow, agonizing death.

So, after all, if anything his “happily ever after” was full of stunning epiphanies.

And yet… He and Lisa were still together. They seemed solid. They had never even brought up separation, let alone divorce. As a matter of fact, the first four years of their second marriage had been amazing. Michael could perceive the intensity of it all, even though the sort of numb emotional status that had become his normalcy since the trial didn’t allow any sensation to reach its full scope.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care – he did. So much. He loved Lisa. He had always been so in love with her. He still was. He loved her with every fiber of his being. And he felt the love that she felt for him. That too was as clear as the sun. It just was not enough to pull him out of the darkness.

After over two years of therapy with Doctor Wells, Michael had ingenuously thought that he was finally out of the woods. He didn’t know if his PTSD would ever really go away, but surely he had found a way to manage it, to cope with it, to not let it get in the way too much. Even the nightmares had diminished in frequency and intensity. Three counseling sessions a month spanning over the course of about twenty-six months had helped him focus on the emotional downfall that he had been experiencing for a few years, but also on what he wanted to do next. Not what he felt he had to do, not what he was used to do, not what others told him he should do, but what he truly needed and craved for his wellbeing.

Which, in the end, had been so immensely different from what he had initially planned.

One night, after he had gently cradled Logan to sleep and put him back into his crib, Michael had found himself just standing there, in his son’s nursery. When he had glanced at his watch again, over half an hour had passed. Just like that. Where had time gone? And even worse, where had he gone?

Easy answer. He had spaced out – completely. His body had stayed there, while his mind had simply drifted away. At that moment, he had realized that whatever change had occurred still wasn’t enough. That his life needed to keep evolving until he felt finally safe and present in each and every moment. He owed that to his kids, his woman, and himself.

He had also realized that in so many ways he had just been going through the motions, pretending that he could keep doing what he had always done. Because that was what the world expected him to do. That was how he was supposed to react, regardless of what had happened to him.

Too bad that what he had always done was no longer what he wanted.

Clarity. Complete, ultimate clarity of mind. It was time for a new metamorphosis.

That night, when he finally had been able to get a grip on himself, Michael had gone back to his and Lisa’s bedroom, finding her sitting in front of her mirror. She was combing her long hair before going to bed. She was so beautiful, to the point that he had felt almost weak in the knees. Noticing him at the door, she had smiled at him through the reflection.

He had walked over, hugging her from behind and kissing her neck. Her skin was warm and soft and she smelled like heaven. She smelled like home.

“Is he asleep?”

“Of course.”

“What about the others?”

“Blanket is out like a light. Paris and Prince are reading a book. But they too will be sleeping soon.”

Lisa had caressed his forearms, still smiling at him through the mirror.

“You’re such a great dad, baby…”

Michael had smiled, then had shifted slightly, crouching down next to her. His hand on her knee. Looking up and into her eyes without any mirror in between.

“Lisa… I thought about some things I really wanna do.”

“Then talk to me. I would love to know.”

He didn’t know why, but her soft tone had reached him deep inside. It had claimed him and he had responded.

And then the dam had broken.

He had told Lisa that he was no longer interested in being an entertainer. Only an artist. That he had no plans of ever performing again. That he no longer cared about any awards. He wanted to focus on charity and production, mainly. Music still meant a lot to him and always would, but its flavor had changed, and even though he kept the door open to possible new releases, he was just not sure he would ever set foot in a recording studio again. He genuinely did not know. At the moment, the magic was gone and he had no idea if it would ever come back.

What Michael did know was that he needed something else, something new and productive to focus on. He had been toying with the idea of movie-making for a while, and the more he thought about it, the more the concept morphed into something feasible. Something that could be done. He also wanted to help new artists, but only from the background. He was not sure that he could be front and center ever again. He was tired in all the ways that counted.

For the very first time in months, Michael had spoken and spoken, the words finally flowing freely. Unstoppable. Lisa’s eyes on him – always on him. She had just listened to him with an attention that, at times, had almost moved him to tears. She had listened as he vented, pondered, mulled over, mused, thought out loud without ever interrupting him. Just letting him do his thing, speak his mind, pour his heart out. His fears, his hopes, his plans. All was a blur, and yet she had seemed to understand every single word – both said and unsaid.

When Michael finally had felt that he had said everything and that he was done, a couple of hours had passed and he and Lisa had moved onto the bed. They were lying down, face to face, illuminated only by the light of the lampshade.

He had taken a long breath and then had just stared at her, suddenly at a loss for words. He could hardly believe that he had spoken so much and for so long. He felt as if time has gone by in the bat of an eyelid.

Lisa had touched his face and her eyes had seemed to shimmer.

“I am with you. Whatever you want to do, I am with you. If you’ll have me.”

The lump in his throat had made his voice hoarse. If he’d have her?

“Lise…”

“You gotta understand, Michael… I just want you to be safe. I need you to be alive. No, it’s not even that, in fact. I want you to be thriving.”

Not really knowing how to react to the storm of sensations running through him, he had pulled her into a kiss and she had responded. Throughout the night, he had made love to her with a passion – a fury, almost – that at times had gone as far as scaring him. And Lisa had taken the brunt of his love. She had taken all of it, clinging to his body, her whispered words in his ear, her lips latched onto his neck. Right then and there, Michael had loved her to the point that no space in the universe would have sufficed.

Less than a year later, they had left the States and had moved to British Columbia permanently. It had taken longer than Michael would have wanted, but after all they were intentioned to have all their paperwork in order. And despite Debbie’s subtle attempts to delay Michael’s plans, in the end even she had capitulated – after being paid handsomely as usual, ça va sans dire. In the end, she had finally given up her parental rights and Lisa had been allowed to go through with the whole adoption process.

When they had found their new mansion in Alberta, Paris, Prince and Blanket were already legally Lisa’s kids. All of a sudden, after thinking that his life would end before he could even manage to accomplish all that he dreamed of accomplishing, Michael had found himself with the family that he had always wanted: he was married to the woman he loved, he was the father of four children and he shared them all with her.

It all seemed too good to be true. And yet it was.

He could watch his kids grow, he had more and more time to spend with them. He also had a new place to call home.

On a side note, the house that he and Lisa had picked was magnificent. A quintessential Canadian retreat spread over three hundred acres, so close to the forest that, each morning, they could smell the dew soaking the pine leaves. The self-sufficient, highly sustainable mansion even had its own private lake, and it was the sheltered harbor that their family needed. It was also a full immersion into the most natural environment in so many ways, since the whole building had been carved from the pristine wilderness. The seven-mile road system allowed all the privacy that Michael wanted at that point in his life. They were safe.

The children had fallen in love with the rural settings right away. They were ecstatic about starting a new life. Even Danny had eventually acquiesced and had allowed Riley and Ben to spend most of the year in Canada – until they had become old enough to decide for themselves, which had pretty much changed nothing. Of course, they were Danny’s children and he still shared their custody with Lisa, but time and patience had shown that peace – or at least a truce – could be reached. Everything could be done if only everyone was committed to achieving it.

Lisa had her own thing going in Canada, too. Most of her charity work was still done with Michael, and he loved having her around when he traveled all around the world. He absolutely adored holding her hand as they visited hospital after hospital, orphanage after orphanage, NGO after NGO. And he also loved how they had managed to find a way to do it more quietly than the first time around. If a lifetime ago he used to thrive in chaos, if only a few years earlier he could not stay in the same place for too long, now he only needed placidness.

When they were in Victoria, Lisa would take care of her father’s business from her home office. To her, it was the best solution – given that she wanted to be with the kids as much as she could. And Michael didn’t want her to be away from him too much either. He knew that he sounded possessive, and if in the past he would feel insecure when she wasn’t around, now it wasn’t even about that anymore. It was just that he was so tired of wasting time. If anything, he wanted to make up for all the time he felt that he and Lisa had wasted.

After a few peaceful months, Michael had started gearing up for some new joint ventures that would allow him to create what his mind could see so vividly: a complex project that involved charity work, movie-making, articulated support systems for families in needs, hospitals, comics, music, plays, books. A whole universe. It was complicated and would require time, but he knew that it could be done. Slowly, his zest for life had started to come back in waves and he had progressively begun to feel more like himself.

And yet, something had changed. Deep inside, in a place that often not even he could reach, and in a way that words were pretty much unable to express.

When he had turned fifty, the transition had become complete.

In the past six months or so especially, Michael had realized that his marriage to Lisa was sinking knee-deep into a profound crisis that now involved both partners. On the surface, everything was just fine and he knew that, from the outside, their union was perceived as ideal. Even their own kids didn’t suspect anything.

But Michael knew. And Lisa knew too.

They hadn’t made love in months, which was a huge red flag in itself. And it wasn’t even because they didn’t desire each other. At the very least, Michael knew that he missed her so much and if his gut feeling still worked, she wanted him just as much. What separated them seemed to be fear, uncertainty. Their sexual encounters had started to diminish in frequency a bit after he had begun to work on his humongous project. He had rented a beautiful office downtown and spending there most of his days and evenings had become his routine. He was focused and his mind was elsewhere most of the time, as if he needed some escapism. Since then, he and Lisa had slowly but progressively become distant – as if either one of them was afraid to be rebuffed. And at this point, it was pretty clear that they wouldn’t even bother trying anymore.

It had become a vicious circle. The more they grew distant, the less time Michael would spend at home. And when he returned home, Lisa was often busy with the kids or working until late at night, or asleep. The next day, the routine began once again.

Of course, lack of physical intimacy had brought an increasing inability to communicate verbally. And that, to tell the truth, had always been one of their issues. Sex between Michael and Lisa had always been amazing but also a means to speak the words that normally would not flow. After the trial, it had become a way to cope and reconnect. It had also opened the door to an even more profound ability to speak, even when they were out of the bedroom. Or so it had seemed, because then again, the moment their sex life had started to be affected, their verbal talent had begun to falter as well.

And now they were in this Nowhere-land where they both tried so hard to pretend that everything was fine. Both scared that the wrong word at the wrong time would cause even more damage. That it would tear them apart forever. Both finding another way to deal with the loneliness that they were starting to feel.

Michael couldn’t help but realize the blatant obviousness of it all, the moment he left his office to go have a coffee with a woman that made no secret of her attraction for him. Right then and there, when he saw her sitting in a private area at the wine bar, Michael knew that things indeed had spiraled out of control and that he was in big, big trouble.

The woman’s name was Christine. She was beautiful and was also ten years younger than Lisa. Which meant that she was twenty years younger than Michael. That alone should have made his inner alarms go off. And it did. He just decided not to pay attention to it, at least for a little while. He also chose not to ask himself what the heck he was doing, meeting in an entirely non-professional setting with a thirty-year-old woman that was not his wife. Without his wife knowing, obviously.

As a matter of fact, it had been a last-minute decision, not something that he had planned in advance. Since the kids were OK and Lisa was taking care of Logan and he still had a bit of free time before going home. And Christine had been asking him out for weeks now, so… What bad could it do? To escape from his routine for just a minute.

It was just a little slip-up. It was nothing major, really. No, scratch that: it was nothing. Nothing but a harmless, tiny distraction from the frustration and helplessness that he felt.

The slightly flirtatious professional conversations that Michael and Christine had shared in his office, apparently, were not enough anymore. If for a while he had been more than capable of fending off the temptation, today something unpredictable had happened and he found himself at that winery downtown. He knew that nobody would snitch on him. The different course that his life had taken in the past few years, the place where he lived now, his different look – all had contributed to making him increasingly uninteresting for the press and, at times, almost invisible when in public. When he parked his car and walked over to the entrance, no security detail needed, nobody bothered him at all.

Christine was already waiting for him and was checking her smartphone. She sat at a small table near the wall, in a secluded corner of the Fig & Vine Winery and, from the look on her face, Michael could tell that she couldn’t wait to see him. Or even better, to meet with him privately and spend some quality time with him. He knew what Christine wanted and yet he pretended to be completely clueless. It was all fucked up and yet he felt dull inside. That precise feeling was what had guided him there, because it had become almost perpetual: Michael wanted to experience some intensity again. And this was an easy cop-out for a guy who didn’t feel like facing his issues directly.

However, underneath the dullness of his apparently peaceful emotional state, there was another set of feelings. Almost imperceptible, yet stingy. It was guilt. It was shame. It was regret. Michael knew that he wasn’t supposed to be there.

The moment the uncomfortable sensation managed to sneak through the thick net of his denial, he almost spun on his heels and took off. But it was too late, because Christine had already seen him and was now waving at him. Leaving at that moment would have been so impolite. So unlike him.

Well, man… You know what else is so unlike you? To behave like your brothers. To behave like Joseph.

The words stung and Michael decided to ignore them. No, that was not at all what this was all about. He had done nothing wrong. He still could fix this. He could keep the meeting friendly and not allow anything unsavory to happen.

The next thirty minutes or so were some kind of a blur. Of course, he recognized flirting when he saw it. He could see the offer on a silver platter. He knew that he and Christine made small talk and he remembered ordering two or three glasses of wine. Given that he had not had lunch earlier that day, the alcohol he consumed lowered his inhibitions and his self-defense mechanisms even more. Which was so very, very bad.

When Christine covered his hand with her own, he didn’t pull away. For a moment, a feeling of sick triumph pervaded him – to see the attraction that this woman clearly felt for him empowered him, made him feel in a way that he had not experienced in a very long time. When guilt tried to resurface in the pit of his stomach, Michael simply drowned it with a sip of wine and kept talking as if everything was right in the world. Even though he knew that it was anything but.

Christine seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. He had first met her because she was a real estate agent and had several connections in areas of the territory that Michael considered appealing for his project. It should have stopped at that. He knew very well that of all the business meetings they had had in the past months or so, only a couple had been really necessary. Everything else had been nothing but a convenient excuse to evade their respective routines.

She was divorced and didn’t have kids. She also didn’t seem to mind that Michael was married and had children, the youngest one being four. When she told him that she used to believe that he and Lisa were happily married and asked him if his wife knew that he was there, at a winery with a stranger, he simply gulped down his wine. And when she told him that she had some interesting pictures to show him about a property that maybe could interest him, he didn’t even flinch. Not even when she specified that the photographs were in a binder, in her car. Finally, when she asked him if he wanted to see them – in her car – he just nodded his head and pushed his chair back, standing up.

They went out from one of the back exits. Christine’s Toyota was parked in an empty residential alley. It wouldn’t take long for people to start coming and going, given that dinner time was approaching and folks were leaving their offices and going back home, but for now everything was quiet.

A minute later, they were sitting in the car. Michael should have gotten worried, when Christine pulled her seat back slightly, as if to make more room or something. He should have gotten even more concerned when she didn’t produce any binder and, raising an eyebrow at his clumsy question, replied that maybe she had left those photographs on her desk after all. It was all so blatant.

It was all beyond obvious – everything was, but his clarity of mind. He later would not even be able to remember if it had been because of the alcohol or the emotional intoxication that came with knowing, deep down, that he was doing something that he was not supposed to do. Some questions simply didn’t have any answers. All that Michael knew was that, at one point, he and Christine were kissing and her hands were roaming all over his chest, down to his stomach, lower still. He was almost frozen, but also was not pulling back in any way, shape or form.

The shock came when she touched him under the belt. Caressing him, fondling him while she moaned into his mouth. The immediate, automatic, and yet very bland reaction of his lower body reminded him where he was, who with, and doing what.

He broke the kiss, panting. Not out of arousal. It was horror, and because the shame was back in full force and he could not ignore it any longer. Shame – and guilt.

“Michael…?”

Christine was confused. He was too. What the fuck was he doing? Had he lost his mind?

“I’m sorry… This is not…” He swallowed and raked his fingers through his hair. “This should have never happened.”

“But…”

He took her hand and stared at her for a moment. And yet, all he saw was Lisa. Her eyes. Her face. They occupied all the space in his field of vision.

“And it’s not gonna happen again. I’m married. I love my wife.”

Christine tilted her head.

“You do? Are you sure?”

Michael’s eyes closed for a moment. Lisa’s face didn’t disappear.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m sure. I’m also an asshole. This is not your fault.”

“I never thought it was.”

He had to scoff. Of course she didn’t.

“Right… Please, don’t call me anymore. There’s nothing I can do for you. It’s best if we just…” He shook his head. “I can’t do this. I am so sorry.”

He unlocked the car door and pushed it open.