Snowfall

– A Winter Story – Scene I – The Snow

“Had it been just he and I, towards the end, I don’t think we would have divorced.”
Lisa

New York City, December 1995

His feet had never felt that heavy. Not even when he danced for five or six hours straight he felt so exhausted and out of it. The difference was that, while training, he looked disheveled and sweaty and his body and face showed all the traces of his full commitment. There was no mistaking what music did to him, the intensity with which it hit him even after all these years.

In this case, it was different. His facade was flawless, and he knew he showed no emotion. From the outside, Michael looked calm and controlled. A man who didn’t have any issue to cry over. Inside, it was just the opposite. He was likely about to divorce his wife and was hence witnessing the destruction of what he had long believed would be his family. His lifeline to sanity. His forever.

He was glad he had left his security detail go for the night. They deserved to be home since New Year’s Eve was just a few days away. They deserved to spend time with their wives, girlfriends, sons, daughters. Besides, he needed to be alone for a few hours and didn’t want to have to worry about keeping up appearances. He wanted to be free to feel the way he felt and not to have a mask on for once.

It was exhausting, all-consuming.

He kept his eyes closed as the elevator brought him up to his apartment in the Trump Tower. How wonderful it was to have this thing all for himself and not share the cabin with anybody. After decades in the public eye, he was of course used to being swarmed and could turn the switch of his public persona on and off without even thinking. But he was not sure he would be able to do it tonight. His mind truly was elsewhere.

For a second, he regretted not having agreed to stay at the Cascios’ and asking someone else to take care of this. And then the feeling just vanished. In a way, he was happy to be hands-on with something without anybody in between.

“Mike, are you sure you don’t want us to take care of it? If you’re not up to it, we can do it.”

Wayne had looked concerned, which was quite unusual as he was usually a very composed man.

“No, thank you. You wouldn’t even know where to look.”

Very true, indeed. Michael wanted to retrieve a few things from his penthouse and knew how disorganized and messy he could be. Hopefully, he would spend the night packing and wouldn’t have time to think about soon having to go through New Year’s Eve without Lisa and the kids.

The apartment was empty and quiet, but warm and illuminated. It was weird, but maybe not too much. Probably someone from his team had stopped by before Michael arrived, making sure the place was packed with groceries and ready, just in case he decided to stay in New York for a few days. Which wasn’t a bad idea at all. Nobody was waiting for him at home. Neverland was deserted, and he wasn’t in the mood to be on the premises knowing that he would be entirely on his own in such a vast property. In different circumstances, he would have likely enjoyed the peace that permeated his land, but this time he was sure he would only feel his emotional loneliness amplified tenfold. And not even Encino was an option, as his mother would have asked questions. She would have seen the look in his eyes. He could bluff with everyone else – but not Katherine.

And Lisa, obviously…

Sighing, Michael took off his coat and threw it on the loveseat in the foyer, then walked over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, the first thing he noticed was that it someone had shopped for food, which convinced him that his people had indeed popped up at the Tower before he did. Thankfully, a nice bottle of white wine was also waiting for him. He opened it and decided that using a glass would be redundant, opting to drink straight from the bottle instead.

Good. As the bubbly liquid slid down his throat, he almost started to feel better. Almost.

The truth was that he had no place to go. That every single place he called home had something about it that reminded him of Lisa. And despite her being constantly in his mind, she was the last person he wanted to think about or see. Because thinking about her meant he had to accept that his marriage wouldn’t probably last much longer.

After their massive fight during his stay at the hospital, things had seemed to go better for a bit. But then the screaming matches had started again and he had fled, preferring to go to Europe for a while. Ignoring her calls even when it pained him to do so. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her because he had planned to punish her. It was just that he wouldn’t have known what to say. He felt as if everything had already been laid out and there was nothing more to discuss, and it was obvious that they were moving in different directions. The time when they were always in sync was long gone.

Yet he missed her. If, during the day and in the presence of other people, he was able to fake a serenity that he didn’t feel, the rush of anguish came back to him whenever he found himself alone. At the same time, he often couldn’t stand to have anyone around, despite dreading loneliness like the plague. It was all very odd – a mixture of confusing feelings he had never experienced before meeting Lisa.

Well, it didn’t matter. He could have gone anywhere, and it would not have made one iota of difference. His ranch, Hidden Hills, his Hideout or this penthouse. Her presence was everywhere, and there was nothing he could do to erase it. At least for now.

Cynically, he began thinking he would probably change the furniture in his New York apartment once his marriage was over. And he would change the mattress at Neverland. But for now, all he could do was find a few essential items he had left here – a phone, several sketchbooks and notepads, a series of audio cassettes and some clothes – before deciding where he would go next. Maybe he would just rent a house somewhere. Or he would stay at a hotel until his mind was clear again. Until he was back to being his calm, composed, collected Teflon self.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to worry about any fights at the moment, as Lisa was back in Memphis with the kids and would spend New Year’s Eve there. Possibly the entire winter holidays. He was safe, no matter how painful it was.

Still holding the wine bottle, Michael walked to the enormous living room and stopped at the door, stunned. What was a Christmas tree doing there? Tall and sparkling, it illuminated the space with its colorful lights. And wood was also burning in the fireplace on the opposite side of the room. His brow furrowed. If there was ever a chance that his team had decided to make the penthouse nice and comfy for him, these two details were way over the top.

Michael began thinking that maybe he wasn’t alone in the apartment. And there was only one person who could come and go as she pleased. Lisa.

The rush of blood to his head almost made him stumble. He was not ready for this. The place was so big he had no idea where she could be and, for a moment, he hoped she had left. That she had gone somewhere and wasn’t there at the moment. If that was the case, maybe he could haul ass before she returned. He would come back to the penthouse at some other time. All he had to do was call Wayne or someone else from his security detail and ask them to come to pick him up. However, that was something Michael had never planned to do. He hated to go back on his words, and his people deserved some time off. It was the holidays, after all.

A headache started creeping in and, for a moment, he didn’t know what to do. Then he decided that maybe scanning the apartment and finding out exactly what was going on was the best option.

Quietly, he walked down the corridor and toward the night area of the penthouse. He was halfway through it when one of the bathroom doors opened, and he found himself face-to-face with his soon-to-be ex-wife.

When Lisa had decided to fly to New York, Michael was the last person she would have expected – or hoped – to bump into. She had initially planned to welcome the new year in Memphis, at Graceland – and in fact she still intended to fly back there in a couple of days – however, after a while she had changed her mind about staying there for the whole holiday season.

There were several reasons for that. First of all, she had decided not to join Danny in his visit to his parents, and he had eventually left with Riley and Ben. That had caused her to be alone with her mother, who in turn hadn’t stopped gloating about Lisa’s marital crisis. Finally, she missed Michael, and although she was exhausted by their frequent fights and by his inability to face their issues as a solid unit, the last thing she needed was to hear Priscilla talking smack about him. Contrary to Priscilla’s belief, it didn’t make her feel better. Michael was still the man Lisa loved.

And so she had left, telling her mother she had business to take care of back in Los Angeles. Which was only partly true. She had nothing important to do at all, but had believed the house she had bought would make her feel more at ease. She was wrong, and her permanence at Hidden Hills hadn’t lasted long either. Everything in that house reminded her of Michael, and his absence was deafening. The idea of him being across the world, enjoying Christmastime with the Cascios or only God knew who hurt her to no end.

All in all, New York felt like the best choice as it was kind of a neutral space. It allowed her to leave L.A.’s unhealthy atmosphere behind for a while and go to a city that was way, way more beautiful at this time of the year. Snowy and freezing cold, yet so poetic and full of life. The Big Apple would definitely give Lisa more chances to distract herself and cleanse her mind. Plus, she had all the rights to stay at the Trump Tower, at least as long as she was married to Michael and contributed to the rent.

Now, finding herself face to face with him caused her a weird mix of feelings she had not been prepared to experience. Shock, of course. But also immense sadness, melancholy, and love. Maybe that was what failure in a relationship truly tasted like. Not just bitterness. It was way more complicated than that and, especially with Michael, everything has been from the beginning.

The fact that he had appeared out of nowhere at the worst possible moment didn’t make things any easier.

“Oh!”

“Lisa?”

Well, at least he sounded just as taken aback. If for a second she had wondered if he had been following her or actively looking for her, that possibility crashed and burned. Of course not. Of course he didn’t care.

“Yeah…”

What a stupid answer.

Her gaze dropped as she raked her fingers through her hair. She hid her eyes from him, but not quickly enough not to notice that he didn’t look well. No, that was not the truth. Michael looked magnificent and regal as usual, his face well shaved, his hair flawless, his clothes perfectly ironed. Not a single detail was out of place. Yet there was something on his face that spelled distress. Sadness, almost. Once upon a time she would have thought she could be the one provoking such feelings in him, but lately she was no longer so sure. It could have been anything, really. Or anyone. She and Michael were so disconnected emotionally, as of late, so distant, that it would have made perfect sense if he was sad because of stuff that had nothing to do with his wife.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were in Memphis!”

Squinting, she found his eyes again.

“And I thought you were in Europe.”

“…I came back.”

“Well, good for you.”

He opened his mouth to reply to what she knew had been a stupid, uselessly nasty retort, but then something stopped him. His eyes narrowed.

“Have you been crying?”

Shaking her head, she pushed him out of her way and walked toward the living room without even replying.

“Hey! I asked you a question.”

“Yeah, I heard you.”

She could also hear him following her. She didn’t know how she felt about that. In fact, she didn’t know how she was supposed to feel at the idea of sharing her space with Michael – and nobody else.

Oh, Lisa. You would have paid for this once. To have him all for yourself, without anybody in between. Nobody whispering bullshit in his ear. What changed?

She decided to ignore her inner voice like she had stubbornly ignored Michael’s questions.

“Two questions, actually. I asked you why you’re here and if you were crying in that bathroom.”

Before Michael made his grand entrance, she had intended to snuggle on the couch in front of the fire and enjoy the Christmas tree, then fall asleep and maybe go for a walk in Central Park in the morning, but obviously he had no intention of leaving her alone. Of course, she knew all about his habit of ribbing and prodding her until she could no longer tolerate it. Well, he would soon realize that she was in no mood to fight tonight. She had way too much on her plate to entertain his whims.

“I’m here because this is my home, too. Right? And no, I wasn’t crying. The fucking cold affects my eyes. They get swollen and red. Had you paid more attention to me in the past, you would know.”

She went straight to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

“Hey, if you’re looking for the wine…” He showed her the bottle he was still holding.

“No, I don’t like that. In fact, I don’t want to drink right now. I want something more nutritious. I’m starving.”

“So you just got here…”

He usually was perceptive, but not this time. No, actually she had arrived earlier that afternoon, but most of her time since then had been invested in decorating the damn tree and taking care of the fireplace. She hadn’t eaten yet.

“You mean today? Yeah. You mean minutes ago? Nope.” She scanned what was in the fridge and pulled out some vegetables and cheese.

Michael stepped closer and put the bottle down on the kitchen counter.

“Lisa, what are you doing? If you’re hungry, we can order something. After all, we’re in New York, the city that never sleeps.”

“Yeah, but New York is also currently the city experiencing a fucking massive snowstorm. I’m not gonna have someone break their neck as they try to deliver something to me.” She found some collard greens and tomatoes and pulled them out as well. “Plus, did you see how packed this fridge is? It would be criminal to let all this food go to waste…”

She expected him to say she was stingy, but it didn’t happen. Instead, he came to stand right next to her and, glancing over at him, she noticed him staring at the food in the fridge. He looked pensive.

“Yeah… You know what? You’re right. It would be criminal to let all this food go to waste.”

Lisa forced herself not to read anything between the lines. Nothing but what he had said. The food was fresh, and she could cook something. That was it.

“Cool. You gonna eat with me?”

“If you’ll have me, yeah. I haven’t eaten anything at all since this morning.”

If she had acted a bit bitchy up until a minute earlier, suddenly she was no longer in the mood to bite his head off. After all, she had noticed that he didn’t seem to want to fight either. If anything, he almost looked cheerful to have found her there, at the penthouse. Plus, the idea of him being hungry rubbed her the wrong way, as there was still a part of her that felt the need to take care of him. She hoped it would soon vanish and she could just tell him to care for himself – that he was no longer a baby.

Look, it’s almost Christmas. You’ll be back in Memphis in a couple of days, anyway. So don’t make this difficult. You know you don’t want to fight with him. It drains you. It tears you apart from within. If you have to share this apartment with Mike for a few hours, try keeping it civil. And why are you so mad at him, anyway?

In a nutshell, because they were no longer working as a couple and their marriage was crumbling like a sandcastle. Of course, many other details made her mad, but they didn’t matter now. Thinking about those, mentally listing them in her mind, wouldn’t help her faint intention to keep things as peaceful as possible.

“Well, I hope you won’t be too picky, because I feel like eating something soulful and warm.”

“No, it’s good.”

“There’s also some fresh fruits over there, if that’s more your taste.”

“Lise, no… It’s all right… Whatever you wanna cook will be fine, I promise.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him reach up – as if he wanted to touch her. Reassure her, maybe. But then he changed his mind and his arm went back down – his hand sinking into his pocket.

“What are you doing here, Michael? Where are your friends?”

“You mean the Cascios?”

Without looking at her, he began washing the tomatoes and the collard greens in the kitchen sink.

“Yeah.”

“They’re home. Where they are supposed to be. And I am home… where I am supposed to be.” He took the broccoli from Lisa’s hand and put them under the water jet. “What are you gonna cook?”

She quickly tied her hair in a ponytail and pretended not to notice his stealthy look.

“Ah… broccoli and cheese soup… Can you get some potatoes, please? I forgot…”

Without a word, he immediately complied. It almost made her smile. Yet she managed to keep her face serious when he handed them to her.

“…And peel them. And cut them in small chunks.”

Michael straightened his stance and she could bet he had to repress a smile. Maybe even a giggle.

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Amazing. I’ll take care of the squash.”

They stood side by side, both taking care of those colorful veggies – while the city outside the huge glass walls allowed itself to be buried by the snow.

“Nothing else?”

His voice had gotten lower, maybe slightly huskier. More familiar – as it sounded nothing like the composed and controlled tone he delivered publicly. Perhaps this night wouldn’t be such a nightmare, after all.

“Yeah. Smoky collard greens.”

“Dang, those are good…”

She had cooked them before, for him. And he remembered. Lisa smiled faintly, without raising her eyes from the cutting board.

“Yeah, they are.”

“Just make them spicy, OK?”

He nudged her with his elbow, very lightly, and this time she scoffed.

“Anything else I can do for you, sir?”

“No, nothing else for now. Thank you.”

The night was going much better than Michael had initially expected. Sitting at the kitchen island with Lisa – and knowing they were the only two people in the house – and enjoying a quiet post-Christmas meal hadn’t been in his plans at all, but now he was glad he had decided to stay.

At first, he had thought that it would all go to hell in zero time. Lisa seemed nervous, bitchy, and not at all in the mood to talk to him or even be in the same room as him. Plus, he was not sure she had been honest when she had told him that her reddened eyes were just because of the snowstorm. Michael knew he had been a distant, distracted husband lately, but he wasn’t stupid. And he knew her more than she would ever give him credit for.

However, regardless of his initial gut feeling, the mood had begun to lighten up while they cooked together. He didn’t know why, but to see her take care of their dinner had thrilled him – and moved him. Maybe it was because it reminded him of the many meals she had prepared for him throughout the years – while they were secretly dating, after they got engaged and even during their marriage. Lisa put love and raw honesty in almost everything she did, even when it didn’t look like it. Cooking wasn’t any different. He had always been under the impression that it was indeed an act of love, especially since it was something she only did for him, her kids or her closest friends.

“Dang… That was not some average broccoli and cheese, soup, Lise… It was terrific.”

She picked a forkful of collards from her plate and shrugged. But she couldn’t hide a smile.

“I know. There’s still some left in the pot, if you’re still hungry…”

“Nah, I’m good. But tomorrow… for sure.”

She chewed slowly and stared at him for a moment. Michael stared back at her. In the background, the snowfall and the city lights outside the glass walls became fuzzy. A white blanket, the perfect canvas for her eyes. She was still so beautiful to him…

“So you’re planning to stay here for a while…”

Right. They had been able to engage in small talk while cooking and during dinner and even laugh together at stupid things at times, but they hadn’t talked about the real reasons why they were there. Michael knew it was the same for both. They were hiding and had hoped not to bump into each other.

It was so odd that the exact opposite had occurred.

He shook his head lightly. No, he didn’t feel like facing the subject now. Downplaying everything was still the best option.

“Well, I don’t have anything planned yet, but if you promise to keep cooking for me, I will stay.”

“Yeah… fat chance,” she snorted. Yet he knew that, in different circumstances, he would have been able to convince her pretty easily…

He cleared his throat and chased the thought away. If anything, they would be lucky if this time together managed to be friendly. Given how cranky their relationship had been lately, he couldn’t expect anything more. It had probably been almost two months since the last time he had laid a finger on her.

“I mean it, though. Without you, I would have had some food delivered down in the lobby… and maybe someone would have indeed broken their neck trying to get here. So you saved us both, in a way.”

“You could always leave and go someplace else where your staff can cook for you, oh Mighty King. Like Neverland. Or a hotel.”

He almost had to smile. How could she know that thought had crossed his mind before he found her there?

“Yeah, I could. But I’d have to call my people back to do that. And they don’t deserve to be out there…” He vaguely pointed at the snow still falling thick outside. At this point, Manhattan almost looked like a white desert studded with minuscule, colored lights. “I’ll wait until tomorrow and then decide what to do. What about you?”

He really, really wanted to know.

“Well, I don’t have any people to call. I came here on my own. I could just take a cab and go back to the airport…”

“Where you’d probably discover that all flights are delayed because of the snow.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Staring at his plate, Michael stayed quiet for a moment and put his fork down.

“Well… At least you no longer have to go through the discomfort of being surrounded by security whenever you walk down the road…”

Whoa. He almost marveled at himself, because he had not even thought about those words before they left his mouth. He had just planned to keep things casual and civil and avoid anything that could create confrontation, and now… this. Where the heck had that come from? The message was clear. Being married to him meant having to deal with hell at times. Michael knew that. But the truth was that he and Lisa were still married. Separated, maybe, but not divorced. So his words were moot.

He was aware that she had spoken to a divorce lawyer right before Christmas. At first he had been tempted to do the same, but then had decided to wait. After all, her inaction meant something. The best thing he could have done was to try and sort things through with Lisa, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do anything remotely similar to that. Leaving her at Hidden Hills, with her doubts and fears, had seemed the only possible outcome for his survival. So why in the world was he now bringing up something that could cause conflict?

Having the chance, he would have taken those words back. But he could not. They were already out there, lingering in the air.

Lisa stayed quiet for a minute, and so did he. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then he heard her push her chair back.

“I’m gonna take care of the dishes…”

“There’s no need. The dishwasher will.”

“Yeah, but I wanna clean up. I don’t like this mess.”

She had given him an out. Maybe she truly was done and over with him and didn’t have anything left to fight for. Regardless, he was glad for the truce.

“OK…” Michael put his napkin on the table and stood up. “Call me, if you need help.”

Then he left the kitchen.

He hoped he hadn’t ruined the night. After all, he could tell that Lisa was trying. Cooking and eating together had helped, almost transporting him back to a time when they could do trivial things together and feel completely at peace. As if the world could not touch them. He had loved her so much in those moments. She had been the one who made him feel complete, understood, and special in a way that was different compared to everyone else.

How had he almost forgotten? And how quickly he – they – could slip up and immerse themselves in the quicksand up their waist once again. When Lisa had left the table, Michael knew she had retreated – and knowing her, she was also doing her best not to snap at him. But the message hidden by his words was perhaps clear to her too. He didn’t think they would remain married much longer.

The low after the little high that dinner had been much lower than he fathomed, and Michael decided to find refuge in the music. He went to the salon and, when he saw the grand piano, he let out a sigh of relief.

Quietly, he walked over and lit up a small lamp before sitting at the piano. He rested his fingers on the keyboard and closed his eyes for a moment, just breathing in and out, allowing inspiration to wash through him. He was by no means a proficient pianist, but he could hold his own in the right circumstances. And so he began playing. The room filled with slow, melancholic melodies and time stopped being of any importance. Michael allowed himself to be transported to that place where music was the only thing that mattered, where there was no personal issue to solve and nothing was wrong in the world. It felt comforting and peaceful, and although his sadness – a weird sense of mourning that felt antecedent to the tragedy itself – didn’t abandon him, its weight felt lighter.

He didn’t know how long he played. He would either keep his eyes closed, fixed on the keyboard, or stare into space and vaguely make out the white outline of the snow-covered city outside. It seemed to him he kept going forever – until a slight noise, as if someone was shuffling their feet, caught his attention. Nonetheless, he finished playing the little aria he had in mind – maybe he would end up being useful someday – and then allowed his hands to rest on the black and white keys.

Sighing, without even moving his body, he knew that Lisa was there. This, too, was something that reminded him of the past. Sometimes, he would dance his heart out in the dance studio they had built at Hidden Hills, and she would quietly sneak in and watch him until he noticed her. Most of the time, he didn’t even need to see her frame reflected in the mirrored walls to know she was there.

And this time wasn’t any different.

Finally, Michael turned on the seat and found Lisa exactly where he expected her to be. Leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed over her chest, looking at him in a way that he could not thoroughly read. There was something in her eyes that he had never seen before, and that he was not sure he could interpret correctly.

He held out his hand without a word, and she looked taken aback for a moment. Then she slowly walked across the room and took his hand. Still staring at her, he kissed her knuckles and pulled her even closer, until she sat in his lap – sideways, but comfortable enough to circle his neck with both arms. He had not been expecting that but damn, he loved it. His heart raced and he could tell that she, too, was surprised by this sudden turn of events.

Lisa touched his cheek, still with that weird look in her eyes, then kissed his forehead. Her lips lingered there for what felt like forever and Michael felt her calm, warm breath caress his hair. His arms closed around her torso and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. Finally, feeling home after a long, long journey.

They stayed like that, not uttering a word, for a very long time.

—

At one point, Lisa had just decided to drop her defenses altogether. They were no use anyway. Not while she and Michael were immersed in such a magical and rare atmosphere, and certainly not when both were trying so hard to live this unexpected time together in the best possible way.

In the corner of her mind, she wondered if this would be the last time they would be together like this. Intimate, alone. She wondered if the closing of this year would indeed signify the closing of their relationship as well. It was a definite possibility, a snowball that maybe had already started rolling down the hill and she could no longer stop. Most of all, she knew it was no longer something that concerned her and only her. Michael was also tired, exhausted from their crisis, she could tell. And she was too. Maybe there was just no fight left in either of them and they were finally resting before accepting that the war was over.

Leaving many casualties on the ground, too. The pieces of her fragmented heart were, at times, all she could see. They had become a floor full of glass shreds that he could easily crush even more just by walking on them casually. She could do the same – and had done just that at times, without even realizing it.

She just hoped he didn’t know how much holding him still affected her. Yes, she had seen him even recently. They had spent some time together with the kids under the same roof, pretending that everything was fine. And of course, she and Michael had also made love. How could she forget about that? It was impossible, especially now. However, nothing of what they had done together in the past few months had kick-started an actual, significant reunion. If anything, it had been all about delaying what seemed to have become inevitable.

And now, this. In a way, she felt trapped in a snow globe with him and, if at first his presence had been startling and annoying, it was now beginning to grow on her.

And so she let him hold her and held him in return, taking in the warmth of his body, the unmistakable scent of his skin, the sense of safety that came whenever he was close to her that way – or gave her the impression of being close, anyway. Had she really forgotten who this man was? Had his overall beauty been buried under too many crushed hopes and resentment? Was it that what she wanted to reduce this love to, just because it felt more manageable that way, at times?

“You tired?”

He mumbled the words in the crook of her neck, then kissed her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

“Exhausted.”

It was the truth. The emotional turmoil of the past weeks was finally taking a toll on her.

“I am a bit tired too. How about we go to bed?”

Lisa sighed. The penthouse had plenty of bedrooms, and once again she was still trying to figure out what to do. Michael was still her husband, after all.

What do you want?

Him. And to be as far away from him as she could. Everything needed to be clarified, especially in light of the latest developments. Should she tell him?

“Yeah… Great idea.”

Michael pulled back and touched her face.

“But not in separate rooms, OK? Not tonight.”

His was a statement and not a question, yet it didn’t sound aggressive or arrogant, quite the opposite. His voice was calm, gentle. It was enough for Lisa to capitulate.

“OK…”

She was about to get up when he rose from the chair, still holding her in his arms, and carried her to their bedroom.