Chapter 1
“Your memory feels like home to me.
So whenever my mind wanders, it always finds its way back to you.”
― Ranata Suzuki
New York City – December 1999
The penthouse was packed.
Michael hadn’t seen it that way in a very long time, to the point that it was almost painful for him to imagine the place the way it was before. To remember when it was empty and quiet, spotless and flawless to look at, yet devoid of any soul. Barren.
In all frankness, he had no idea what option was more acceptable for him at the moment. If to recall the huge apartment the way it was when he and Lisa used to live there, together, or if to brush the memory aside as he tried to take in this new atmosphere and get acquainted with it.
Which wasn’t a bad idea at all, despite his intense need to hide every couple of minutes. And despite his even more intense urge to boot everyone out and spend some time on his own. Cradling a glass of whiskey or wine, maybe, or watching some movie. Unfortunately, his ability to be social could only go so far.
Regardless, this was a party and he knew that he was supposed to have fun. With his new circle of friends, a lot of people he had never seen before in his life, and way more women than he could count – or crave. He hadn’t even been the one who had organized the whole thing, because unlike the past – when he loved to have everything under control – lately Michael tended to let things roll off his back quite easily. They just went the way they went and he didn’t bother that much anymore. In fact, he allowed people around him to decide plenty of stuff at his place – or throw parties in his house, like in this case.
He had become sloppy. And to ignore that fact was still less challenging and brutal than to acknowledge it.
Of course, tonight he was the center of everyone’s attention, as if he was some kind of guest of honor. At the same time he was also the host, since the massive penthouse in the Trump Tower was still his and he was the only one paying the rent. Michael was also paying for the catering and the staff, which mean that all those people flooding his rooms were having fun on his dime.
Who cared…
Everything was perfect, at least on the surface. Yet, he was bored and tired, far from enthralled by the whole situation, and didn’t even know why. From a theoretical point of view, Michael had it all: he was successful and mighty unburdened. He was a free man, a single man at that, baby!
He had finally managed to get rid of a marriage that had been nothing but a business deal all along, and that at least had resulted in his amazing son and beautiful daughter. The price to pay had been worthy, but still pretty high. Michael had felt shackled and bitter because of all the unpleasant things that had come with the marriage. The constant requests, the lies. The emotional blackmail. The secrets. And the inevitable losses.
He had lost Lisa in the process – because of that whole ordeal. Not really because of Deb, to be honest, but because of all the other stuff that his decision to marry Deb had entailed. Shit that he and Lisa had been unable to deal with, especially in the long run. After that first powerful high of finding each other again despite being divorced had expired. The fragile walls of their new emotional house, the relationship they had slowly been trying to rebuild through the years, it all had ended up shattering like glass. And of course, him being married to another woman hadn’t helped. The woman that Lisa called the intruder. That stain in the relationship had never really vanished.
Initially, it had taken Lisa and Michael months to reconnect and find each other again after their divorce. To get back together in a way that resembled the past. For quite some time, he had also thought that maybe they would end up having everything they thought they had lost.
They were madly in love again, or maybe they had simply never stopped being in love. During and after his tour, they had indulged in a few public appearances and several secret encounters all over the world. They had gone on vacation together, spent holidays together. She was back at being his lover, his partner, his confidante, his everything. His body and soul craved for her, missed her when she wasn’t around, longed for her when he couldn’t touch her. Whenever she was close to him, he would feel complete again. He had been rebellious and defiant, parading her around like before, almost daring anyone to say something, anything. He had wanted her to know that she had always been it, for him.
But then, as time passed, it had all become strained and weird again. The press certainly hadn’t been of any help, depicting him as a soulless cheater and Lisa as his paramour. The sad thing was that, technically, that was what they were – at least in some way. The married man was cheating on his pregnant wife with his ex-wife. It didn’t matter that he had never slept with Debbie. He was still her husband, and obviously that marriage meant more to Lisa than it did to him. After a while, she had begun to feel as if he was stringing her along. She had felt like an accessory in his life, and maybe he had never been able to convince her that she had never been anything but the woman he loved.
However, somehow they had managed to go through it all once again. It had taken them a lot of tears and commitment to find their old rhythm, or to build a new one. But, they were fine – or at least that was what Michael thought. Before the shit hit the fan, the previous year around this time, he had been pretty sure that he and Lisa would end up getting married again soon. He knew that his deal with Debbie had an expiration date, and he was counting the days. Of course, he had kept his musings to himself, because he was still so gun-shy around Lisa when it came to the super-serious stuff, but still… The idea was certainly there.
And then, before Michael could even wrap his head around the whole thing, before he could ask her what she thought about his plan, he and Lisa were done again and she was gone for good. She had told him that she just couldn’t do it anymore and those simple words had taken all the air out of his sails. He was deflated, disheartened. Frankly, he was also disappointed in her.
She couldn’t do what, anymore? Love him? Wait for him, for them, to be ready again? Be loved by him?
It had taken him months to recover and get back on track again. And maybe right now, about a year after what he deemed the last nail in the sad coffin of his and Lisa’s relationship, he would finally accept it and move more. After all, it wasn’t that he hadn’t tried with her. He had, more than once.
Too bad the lady was always too absorbed by her own disillusionment and mistrust to notice his efforts. Ridiculous!
Well, now her bitter, resentful ass was out of the way for good as well. He was finally free. No more women – not as wives, at least. He just wasn’t cut out for that, that much he knew at that point.
On the other hand, not having to pretend any longer was a nice change for once. He could decide to be a dog if he wanted to. He could even manwhore for a bit. Who the hell cared?
Not good ole me, that’s for sure. Not anymore. At forty-one, I’m done being the good guy.
Right after the divorce papers were finally signed, Michael’s new friend Brett had gifted him with an interesting and unexpected surprise. An evening spent drinking at the ranch first, and then the most sexually willing and enthusiastic woman he could ever imagine. Michael was way too drunk to say no and his heart was way too tattered to oppose any resistance, and so later that night he had allowed the girl to go down on him as if it was the most natural thing in the world. According to Brett, that was one of the best ways to celebrate freedom and newly-found “singleness”, as he had called it.
Who was Michael to say no to such a perfect present? It would have been so rude, so impolite. So unlike him. Besides, it wasn’t that his heart was bleeding for Deb. This divorce was far from the excruciating experience he had gone through the first time around. Instead, this felt like a liberation, with a bitter aftertaste of pure disillusionment.
And so he had enjoyed the unexpected event as best as he could.
The girl in question was beautiful, stunning really. Too bad he was only mildly aroused and not entirely amused by the direction the night had taken. Why? Because it didn’t matter how cool and chill Michael loved to appear to strangers – or sorta-kinda friends. There was still a part of him that he felt belonged to someone else. To that other woman that had once been his closest friend, then his lover, then his wife, then his lover again, and then his friend. Somehow, in a way.
And so that night, while he allowed that girl to suck him dry like an expert – and he had to admit she had put a lot of commitment while doing it – still he could feel that his heart was quite not there. Not yet. But hey, his body had responded, and that had to mean something. Maybe that blow-job would end up marking a new beginning of some sort eventually.
So far, no such luck.
Tonight wasn’t any different either, but maybe he could pretend that it was. He could pretend that he was the kind of guy who had no high standards when it came to women. A man who had no qualms getting head from a stranger, or fucking her in the bathroom of his very house while other people were partying just outside the door. Well… that was definitely an option to get over the boredom he felt, at least for a little while. After all, he had been able to indulge in such behaviors a few times in the past months.
Brett seemed to sense those thoughts and appeared pretty much out of nowhere. He put his arm around Michael’s shoulders and Michael noticed how nasty he smelled. He was sweaty and his face looked red and shiny. Before he could even wonder what the heck Brett had done to get himself into such state, he spoke.
“Mike, my man…! This party is freaking amazing. I collected more phone numbers that I can even count.”
“Cool. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
“I am. But the point is…” He pulled Michael close to him. “You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself that much. Why don’t you have some fun?”
“Meaning?”
“Well, Brenda over there asked me if you’d be up to talk to her…” Brett wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “…in a more private setting.”
Michael followed Brett’s gaze. Brenda was attractive, no doubt about that. Tall and slender, with a body to die for and long, curly hair. She was staring at him from across the room and he felt stripped naked all of a sudden. But the sensation didn’t entice him. It created mainly discomfort, embarrassment. Yes, Brenda was indeed beautiful – but there was nothing about her that attracted him. Her frame wasn’t lithe and petite. Her face hadn’t come out straight from one of those old Hollywood movies that he liked to watch when he needed to relax. Hers wasn’t a timeless beauty. It was a beauty ready to devour him.
Not a bad thing in itself, obviously. Just not his thing, not tonight at least.
However, Michael knew that this was when he was supposed to say yes and allow Brenda to be Woman number whatever since he had finally broken free from Deb’s clutches. This was the exact time for him to loosen up and start partying for real.
“So? What do you think about it? She’s up for anything. As long as it’s with you.”
“Yeah, well… It’s flattering but… Maybe another time.”
“What? Why? She’s gorgeous.”
“She is. It really is not about her. I’m just not in the mood.”
Brett stared at him as if he was some kind of alien form – something he tended to do every once in a while. He scanned Michael’s face and Michael knew that he was wondering what made him tick. He hadn’t figured out yet. Poor Brett. If only he knew that almost nobody and nothing could. Michael was nothing but a Rorschach test for so many people. He was a blank canvas, a mirror, a clean slate for everyone except for those he decided to let in. And Brett wasn’t one of them. Not yet, at least. He was just a casual friend, perfect for casual nights and casual moments, like this one.
“Are you sure, Mike? Want me to find another chick for you? More in tune with your taste, maybe?”
“Like?”
Brett shrugged his shoulders in a very casual manner.
“I don’t know. Maybe someone looking more like the type of woman you dig …”
Michael could tell that his friend was getting a bit uncomfortable. That he wanted to please him but didn’t really know how. His discomfort made him smirk.
“Yeah? And what would that be?”
The question was delivered in his usual polite, suave voice – yet Brett’s face reddened even more, if that was even possible. And this time it wasn’t because the temperature in the room was a little too warm.
“Well… I don’t know. Shorter? Less curvy? Classier? Whatever you want, man…” He patted Michael’s back. “I’m just here to please.”
Michael would have to sock him in the eye if he mentioned Lisa now. Instead he smiled in that charming way that he knew worked so well.
“Oh, no. I am here to please. So you just enjoy yourself and let me be the host. Besides…” He glanced at his watch. “…I gotta go check on my kids.”
He left Brett there, with what he assumed was at least the twelfth glass of champagne of the night. The guy had been sweating alcohol for a while now and Michael knew for a fact that he always stopped being fun after a bit. Especially if he was the only one being drunk.
Michael also needed a reset and a recalibration, so he moved away from the lounge.
Paris and Prince were in their room with their nanny, in another wing of the penthouse. One that was supposed to be off-limits for everyone with the exception of their father – and the nanny. When he spotted a couple of guests he didn’t recognize in the corridor leading to the bedrooms, he shot them a look that didn’t need any verbal warning. They left immediately.
He closed the door behind his back and left the noises of the party outside. It was time to take a long break and try to relax. It was way over midnight and, all of a sudden, all he wanted to do was go to bed and rest for a bit. Without anyone keeping him company, because he had been honest when he had told Brett that he wasn’t in the mood. Maybe he just wasn’t tipsy enough tonight.
When he quietly entered the kids’ bedroom, Grace was still there, sitting in an armchair and reading a book. The children were asleep, both of them.
Glancing over at her, Michael stood by the door and just tipped his head. Grace smiled and, as usual, stared at him as if he was some miracle manifested. He cringed inside. She was a sweet woman, but sometimes the way she looked at him made him feel slightly uncomfortable. He recognized that look, and it had gotten even worse since he and Deb had finally divorced. Michael didn’t even know why, since Deb had never been around anyway. Still, he guessed that Grace felt as if some metaphorical boundary had been broken and maybe, possibly, she could make a move on him. Too bad that he didn’t see her that way.
“Hey… Everything good over here?”
She closed her book.
“Yes, Michael. They’re both fine. They’ve been asleep for a while now. Are you having fun at the party?”
He just nodded his head and approached Prince’s bed. He stroked the kid’s hair and kissed his forehead, then did the same with Paris. The toddlers didn’t even move – they were out like a light. Although they loved the ranch, Michael was glad that they were so comfortable in the New York apartment as well. He wondered if they remembered how many nights Lisa had rocked them to sleep in that very same penthouse. Mostly Prince, but Paris as well.
No, probably they didn’t remember a thing. They were way too little and most of the times, especially right before their final big breakup, Michael and Lisa preferred to be alone whenever they met, without any of their children around. Not only because they didn’t want to confuse them further, but also because…
Because what we did was grown-up stuff.
Right…
Still, Michael remembered everything. The way his throat had closed when he had realized that Lisa didn’t hold any grudge against his babies. Something that he should have known anyway, despite his mind being too often obfuscated by his own hang-ups. The way she would talk to them, feed them, bathe them and put them to sleep. As if they were something precious and unique. In a maternal way that would always make him feel vulnerable and mushy inside. In a way that made him feel sorrowful – and regretful.
So, at the end of the day, it wasn’t a bad thing that she had pretty much stopped seeing them after a while. Michael could only imagine how Prince and Paris would feel now, knowing that Lisa was no longer around and would not be. He was glad that they couldn’t recall a thing. And he was ready to carry the weight of remembering for all of them.
It was past three in the morning when, finally, the penthouse was empty again. Michael thought that the worst part of the party was finding out that one of the guests had been throwing up in one of the bathrooms as if he was possessed by the devil, but other than that everything had gone pretty well.
Michael had managed just fine, especially because at that point of the night he had already dipped out – mentally, at least. However, when he finally hit the bed, he was drained. Possibly a bit dehydrated too. And sad. He felt hollow and devoid of any motivation and he wondered if it was because of what the year that was coming to an end was supposed to bring and hadn’t. It had stalled him, to not be able to do what he had planned. Too many failed plans had hindered his usual optimism and drive.
The mini-tour he had in mind, just to begin with. A small series of concerts with plenty of guest stars sharing the stage, so that he didn’t have to take care of all the heavy lifting himself while he tried to raise funds for children all over the world.
But then stuff had started to happen. Delays. Contract issues. Sponsor issues. People who were supposed to be there and who weren’t going to be, due to some schedule conflicts. And that damn bridge that just couldn’t function the way it was supposed to. All that, summed with tons of other shit Michael had to deal with, had eventually prompted him to postpone the whole thing to the following year.
He had been miffed. He still was, whenever he thought about it, because he never liked it when he couldn’t control his art or things didn’t go according to his plans. But at the same time, he had to admit that when he had heard that bridge squeak, when he had seen it shake as it was pulled up and down, well… He didn’t know why, but he had stopped feeling secure. He knew what it meant to be the victim of a horrendous accident on stage and didn’t want to go near that metal monster at all.
What if the fucking thing collapses while I am on top of it? It would kill me. Best case scenario, it would fuck me up for good.
The whole project had been put on hiatus, and Michael had spent the rest of the year locked up in recording studios, working on new songs. In his free time, he had been busy souring his relationship with his record label to the point that he would have gladly set his contract on fire. Which was something that he couldn’t do, obviously. He just had to find a way to wiggle himself out of it smoothly.
And now it was almost the end of the year and he felt like he hadn’t achieved a third of what was in his mind around Christmastime the previous year, when everything was so virtually perfect that, at times, he would feel like crying. When Lisa and he were still together and he had started planning a future that included her in all the ways that counted, no holds barred. All Michael was waiting for, was the right time and occasion to tell her.
He could still remember the last time he had had those thoughts. It was close to Christmas, around dawn, and he and Lisa were in bed together. She was naked, asleep and gorgeous, and he could smell the scent of her skin all over himself. He had rolled over and observed her quietly for interminable moments, feeling so utterly in love with her, as images of their future together flooded his mind. Yes… he would tell her all about that very soon.
That time, that occasion, was clearly never bound to come. His personal curse and blessing was gone. They had broken up just in time for New Year’s Eve. Maybe it was just meant to be that way.
Still so dramatic, timing-wise.
But haven’t we always been like that, Lisa and I? We are too much. Always. And now we’re each in our respective world and I still don’t know how I feel about it. No woman sucking me off while I’m shit-faced drunk can change that.
Michael unbuttoned his shirt and lay down on the bed, sighing. Staring at the ceiling. His body was tired, but his mind was still racing. He was once again incapable of sleeping well and regularly, but so far he had managed not to ask for any chemical help. Only, on nights like this, it was difficult to see those orange bottles near the sink and not do anything. Still, he didn’t want to take those pills. He didn’t want to feel groggy and moody the next day.
He had to revise his schedule, since he was supposed to leave for Prague in a handful of days. And then he wanted to spend time with the kids, before being without them for a whole week. At first he had planned to have them travel with him, but given how busy he would be, Katherine had convinced him to leave Paris and Prince with her and spare them the cold temperature of the Czech Republic right before Christmas.
Mother was right. Despite his failed plans, Michael had been flying around the world all year and she had barely seen the little ones in months. Paris and Prince were always with their dad: in South Africa, Miami, Munich, London… and Paris.
Only rarely in Los Angeles. At the end of the day, he knew that it was best to let them unwind for a bit and leave them with their grandma for a few days. Maybe some time for himself would also help him recalibrate and face the new year – and the new millennium – with renewed energy. After all, he planned to be back home for Christmas anyway.
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. That pang again, like a fist closing around his heart. Just thinking about what had happened in Paris sill had that effect on him.
Reaching out, he grabbed his mobile phone from the nightstand and stared at it as if it was his Holy Grail.
Biting his lip, he stopped right before his thumb could reach the little green button and call Lisa. He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was about four in the morning, which meant that it was a little past 1 AM in Los Angeles. He was sure that she wasn’t asleep yet. Maybe he could…
“No, fuck that.” He threw the phone on the bed. “And fuck her too.”
Immediately after speaking the words, he winced. When had he become so fucking nasty and hateful? What the hell was his problem?
It’s not that I ran after her when she left the last time. In fact, I pretty much pushed her out of the door. So what am I pissed off at?
Besides, it wasn’t even that he and Lisa hadn’t spoken afterward. They had. They were always civil to one another, too. Not best buds maybe, but certainly affable. Friendly almost. Both busy hiding the aftertaste of their last nasty breakup, which held all the weight of silence and remoteness. Playing polite you, polite me. Bullshitting each other and themselves in the process.
I can’t blame us. It’s hard to go cold turkey when you haven’t broken up because you were no longer in love. Too painful. Too infuriating. Besides, I tried in the past – to shun her and erase her from my mind. It never worked. It was a complete failure every single time. She always came back and I always let her in. I can’t help it. Or at least I couldn’t, as long as I loved her.
It was different now. The moment the year would finally come to a close, a millennium too would end and symbolically speaking, it would be the starting point of a new beginning. A future that wouldn’t see Lisa involved in his life at all.
The thought almost choked him with its invisible fingers and a sense of sudden urgency assaulted him. If what he thought was true, then it meant that he only had less than a month to hold onto her. To lie to himself and pretend that she was still part of his life. To keep her close, somehow, and get that last hit. Maybe just by hearing her voice. And then, if he really chose to forgive and forget, he would have to start pretending that she was water under the bridge, part of his past. It had never worked before, but perhaps this time it would.
Swallowing, Michael grabbed the phone again and, this time, he did more than just stare at her number.
Hidden Hills, Los Angeles
When the phone rang, Lisa jumped on the bed even though she was not asleep at all. In fact, she was fully awake and had been feeling restless for hours, despite strangely deciding to go to bed earlier than usual.
Her cell phone wasn’t on the nightstand. It was buzzing somewhere under the covers and she fumbled with the bedsheets trying to get a hold of the thing as fast as she could, because her heart was up in her throat and her gut feeling told her that she knew exactly who was calling her. After all, there was only one person in the world who had the guts to wake her up in the middle of the night as if it was nothing. That person was Michael.
Lisa’s heart also told her that it was him. It wasn’t just sheer instinct, it went much deeper than that. She mentally barked at that useless red muscle, telling it to just go fuck itself already. As if it had ever been useful at all, anyway.
All this happened within a five-second span, until she finally managed to grab the damn device and take the call.
“Hello?”
Nothing but silence.
“…Hello? Who’s that?” Frowning, she looked at the screen. Nope. The ID didn’t tell her anything – this was a number that she had never seen before. However… “Mike? Is that you?”
God, just imagine if it isn’t him. As if I don’t look like enough of a crazy bitch already, after what that asshole put me through last summer. Still taking his calls instead of telling him to get lost. I can only hope that…
“Hey, Lise. Hi. Were you asleep?”
Her eyebrows sprung up. Hey, it was him for real. And they were talking for the first time in how long? Six months, she thought, more or less. Yeah, she and Michael hadn’t been speaking at all since that failed little thing in Paris. That soul-crushing little thing after which she had to be mopped off the floor – again. And of course, she was not going to touch the subject with a stick. Fuck feeling like the saddest moron on the planet. She was done with him and his stupid games.
However, the sad and tired tone in his voice didn’t go unnoticed and evoked reactions in her that she could not control. The moment she spoke, she hated herself for still caring about him so much.
“No, I was just… Don’t worry about it. Are you OK? You don’t sound too well. And where are you calling from? It’s…” She glanced over at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “…One in the morning.”
“I know. I’m sorry I called so late. But if it is of any consolation, it’s almost dawn where I am.”
She wished she could slap the daylights out of him. After making sure that he was fine, obviously.
“Well, to be honest I wasn’t expecting to hear from you at all. I thought we had finally stopped talking? And where the heck are you, by the way?”
“New York. I’ve been staying here at the Trump Tower for a few days… With the kids, you know.”
Lisa closed her eyes. Damn him. Why did he have to be so specific? New York would have sufficed, and instead her vision was now being flooded by countless images of the place he was staying at. The place she once used to call home. The rooms, the light in them. All those mornings when he would say hello just hugging her from behind while she sipped her coffee and watched the city starting to wake up down below. When she would feel his solid torso adhering to her back, his strong arms around her, his morning stubble scratching her neck as he made her laugh and squeal and almost spill her drink. Damn him for evoking those feelings again just by talking to her over the phone.
“I see. Are you OK? I’m surprised you called.”
She needed that little concept to be hammered right into his brain.
“Yeah, I am too. But I just…” She heard him sigh. “I can’t sleep and I hoped you would keep my company.”
Despite ignoring her question, Michael sounded genuinely vulnerable and open, way too exhausted to put up a front, and she relaxed. It felt like an olive branch. This was a small truce while they kept playing the silent game that they had been playing since the previous summer.
“Sure, but phone sex is out of the question, alright…”
He chuckled dryly and she couldn’t help but smile as well. Some old mechanisms weren’t easy to eradicate.
“I know. I just wanted to hear your voice. Ask you how you are. Wish you a merry Christmas and all.”
“Already? Isn’t it a bit early for that?”
Yeah, given that it was early December and all. Unless he was planning to get on a damn shuttle and be propelled to the Moon, she thought there was a good chance that they might speak again before the year ended. Maybe they would end up sending each other polite postcards, or whatever.
Who am I kidding… This is a one-time thing. Michael and I aren’t going anywhere together. We haven’t been going anywhere for years. And certainly we haven’t spoken in months. ‘Cause there isn’t a damn thing left to say.
“Well, you never know…”
“I guess not. Are you planning to go somewhere for Christmas? Enjoy the start of the new millennium in some nice place, maybe?”
Michael took a deep breath and stayed quiet for a moment, and she waited. She knew that he probably was hating that question and she could anticipate that he would not tell her anything about his whereabouts. Not that she cared anyway, but still… Lisa knew how he operated and it hurt her to see him take a metaphorical step back and away from her. It would always hurt.
“No, nowhere specific. I’ll probably be at the ranch with my babies.” He waited another moment. “What about you? Anything planned these days?”
Time to play the same game that he was playing. Close to the vest and all.
“Nothing at all. I think it’s gonna be a quiet, peaceful, relaxed Christmas with my kids. Maybe Danny. We’ll see.”
Michael seemed to ponder over her words and she was glad that her little jab had reached its destination. He never had been fond of Danny. It didn’t matter that he had always know that there was never anything to worry about in that department. Danny was not a threat to Michael, and it had always infuriated her how miffed he could get just because she was still friendly to her first ex-husband. Hell, she had left Danny for him! And she would still choose Michael any day of the week – even though he didn’t need to know anything about that. His head was big enough as it was.
“OK… Lise, look… I am just glad to know you’re alright. I mean, you sound like you are and… Well, I’m just happy about that, you know.”
Lisa shook her head slowly. No, she was not alright and he should have known better. But maybe he had become deaf to her silent language, to signals that in the past he would have been able to decipher flawlessly, without her having to say anything. Or maybe she was the one who had become unintelligible – even to herself. Whatever the case, Michael didn’t need to know that it was all about ebbing and flowing. That some days were more challenging than others. And that hearing his voice wasn’t making anything more manageable for her.
“Right… So, what do you want me to do? Stay here with you until you fall asleep?”
“Would that be a problem? I wouldn’t be asking for much, after all.”
She didn’t know what was wrong with him and she had to force herself not to ask. She knew it wasn’t her business anymore, what he did or how he felt. But she also realized that she was not ready to hang up the phone on him. Not when he was like this. Once upon a time she would have done anything to make him feel better, to take care of him. Right now, she could only hope that staying where she was and doing what she was doing would be enough.
“No, strangely enough, you wouldn’t be asking for much, for once…”
“Don’t be cruel, now…” His tone was soft and still vaguely amused, and Lisa decided to pretend that he hadn’t spoken at all.
“Cool. And then tomorrow we’re gonna pretend nothing at all has happened?”
“Well, we can try.”
“I think we’ll manage… Just like we did until five minutes ago.”
“Whatever you say, Lisa…”
Michael sighed, and Lisa slid under the covers, holding the phone close to her ear. She could hear him breathing, and she began to feel more peaceful. Less wired, more relaxed.
“OK, then. But don’t get mad if I hang up at one point or another, alright…”
“I won’t.”
She never did. She stayed with him. When his breathing became deeper, she too closed her eyes and pretended that there wasn’t half of the country separating then. Before she could even count to ten, they had both fallen asleep. The last thing that passed through her mind before everything faded to black was that she was happy to be leaving the country for a while.