I decided I couldn’t just leave without literally seeing her to the door of the treatment facility. We had hugged and kissed and said goodbye, but I wasn’t ready to just let that be that.

“Carsen, I need you to take me shopping,” I told him as I got in to the front, riding shot-gun, it wasn’t something I normally did, but I decided to start doing things a bit different.

“No problem, boss. Where are we headed?”

“Tiffany & Co,” I told him with certainty. “Let’s go to the Rodeo Drive store,” I added.

“Mr. Jackson, do you think it’ll be okay to do that without extra security?” he asked.

“You can call me Michael,” I told him as I drummed my fingers absently on the dashboard. I glanced at the phone, “You think you could get some extra back up security to meet us there and maybe let the store know we are coming?”

“Sure, Michael.” I watched him pick up the phone and make up few calls.

**

We walked in to the store; I had my sunglasses on, avoiding the direct stares of the general shoppers who were stunned to see me. The three guards that I had with me stood around me in a kind of force field and disallowed too many people from getting close to me.

“Michael!” someone shouted from a few meters, “I believe you!”

I was startled by the admission that I couldn’t help but to smile. I looked up and regarded the heavy-set woman with wave and I called to thank her. Tiffany & Co was quite up-market that the people shopping were few and the store assistants tried their best to act professional.

“Mr. Jackson, what can we help you with today?” a silver-haired middle-aged man asked, standing before me.

I thought for a moment, “hmm I’m looking for something delicate…” I imagined what would like nice on Malania. I didn’t want to go over the top like I had in the past with extravagant gifts. I knew she was a no-nonsense girl, so she probably would have appreciated something that she could get daily wear out of. “A necklace or a bracelet,” I added.

“Would you be requiring diamonds?” he asked. I knew that he assumed because I was Michael Jackson and loaded with money to the wazoo, I would be looking to spend a lot of money.

“No, I don’t think so…”

He guided my troop to a selection of necklaces. I smiled, realising he had also assumed it was for me.

“No, not for me,” I told him, “its for a birthday gift for a female friend,” I lied.

He smiled, “Oh, forgive me, Mr. Jackson,” he gushed, “let me show you our range of necklaces for that special lady in your life.”

“Friend,” I corrected him, not wanting anyone to catch on that it might be Malania.

“Okay, this is our range… if you see anything, I’m happy to take it out of the case for a closer look.”

I looked beneath a glass display box about four or five different sterling silver chains. Instantly I knew which one I wanted. It had the traditional Tiffany & Co heart charm. It was quite long with a thin chain. “That’s it, that’s the one.” I looked to Carsen, “What do you think?”

He seemed surprised that I cared for his opinion. “Its nice boss, I think she will like it.”

“Great choice Mr. Jackson,” the sales assistant said, “would you like to browse anything else?”

I looked around to a gathering crowd and I was keen to leave and go back to Malania’s house. “No, that’s fine thank you.”

We paid for the necklace and had it wrapped and boxed nicely. The extra security huddled me off back to our SUV and followed us behind in another car to evade rubber-neck followers. Eventually when we were sure no one was following, they veered off and left us to it.

“Boss, its nice to see you looking a bit happier,” Carsen commented, “I hope that ain’t out of line.”

I smiled, “Thanks Carsen and no, its not out of line.”

“She’s a nice girl, I like her – even though that probably doesn’t count for much—what I think.”

“It counts…” I replied, “she’s a nice change from the last one…” I joked.

“Diane?” he asked. I wasn’t sure how I felt about him getting too personal with me, but I was sick of always having to mind what I said in case it got leaked.

“Yeah… this is just … right.” I told him, “she’s imperfect in the most perfect way…” I realised I didn’t sound macho, but I didn’t care.

“So we going back to her place?” he asked me. I nodded.

“Yeah, she has to go away for a week, so I want to give her this gift before she goes.”

I also had an idea of what I could do while she was away. It was something that I’d have to ask her mother about.

We arrived back to her neighbourhood and soon we were pulling up. “Boss, be careful, make sure nobody sees you.” Carsen called out. There was no one out on the street, just a guy about 6 houses down, watering his yard. I didn’t want to seem too suspicious. If I casually got out, no one would suspect that the visitor to the Nakamura household was Michael Jackson.

Helena answered the door and looked surprised to see me. Never-the-less she smilled. She looked almost as if she could pass as Malania’s grandmother. Her thinning, silver hair was woven tightly in to a bun that sat low at the base of her head and the lines of her face showed the years of stress of having to battle a son as troubled as hers.

“Hi Mrs. Nakamura,” I smiled back. “Sorry to intrude again, but would it be okay if I was able to see Malania?”

She whisked me inside off the street. “Malania is in her bedroom just finishing the packing, you can go up if you’d like…”

“Great thanks… actually, can I ask you a question?”

She nodded, surprised. I lowered my voice and looked up at the staircase that was to the left of the entryway. I wanted to make sure Malania wasn’t around to hear. “While Malania is away, would you be able to take you up on that offer to teach me to cook?”

I saw a sudden brightness in her mother’s expression – as if cooking was her number one passion after her children and husband.

In my life, I always thought it would be wonderful to have a traditional wife who waited for me at home with our children – who didn’t need to lift a finger, because I could take care of her – but in that moment, my mind changed. Malania said nothing about her mother as a person, only her love for her children, cooking and being a house-wife. I wanted more for my wife. I am sure she was happy, but a life of cleaning up after everyone that I loved and cooking for them?

Malania – or whoever it was that I decided to marry – and I needed to not let myself get carried away as I usually did, deserved to have more to her life than that. She decided to have lots of friends, a lifestyle away from me and any children we might have, so that we could really talk and share the separate parts of our lives with each other.

“I’d be delighted, Michael, that would make me very happy.”

“Excellent,” I grinned, “thank you. Can I call later tonight so we can arrange a time? I’d like to surprise Malania when she gets home so that I can make dinner for her…”

“Yes Michael,” she grinned too, I knew she liked the idea that I was going to effort to impress her daughter, “that would be fine.”

“Thank you…” I waved at Malania’s father who appeared in the doorway.        “I’m back,” I smiled. I felt pretty comfortable with her father because he was totally friendly and nice to me, he made it easy to chat.

“Nice to see you again so soon,” he told me, “Malania is upstairs, I trust you didn’t come to visit us.”

I looked to Helena, “well not this visit,” I replied, “but maybe in a few days.” He saw the exchange between his wife and I and nodded as if picking up on something.

“Michael-san, would you like to join us when we take Malania to the treatment center? I wanted to ask you earlier, but it did slip my mind,” he offered.

I almost smiled at his use of honorific in front of my name the way he did when he spoke to his daughter. I weighed up the risks involved. “Well, sure…” I accepted the offer, “but I probably won’t get out of the car, for… obvious reasons. But I’ll speak with Malania and make sure that its what she wants.”

“Okay Michael-san, whatever you think,” he replied.

“Okay, I’ll go speak with Malania now if that’s okay.” I felt my jacket-pocket to make sure the necklace was still inside in the aqua blue Tiffany & co box. I climbed the stairs slowly, wanting to surprise her. When I reached the landing, I approached her room with a smile. Her bedroom door was slightly ajar and she was listening to a Roxette song. I didn’t pick her for the type.

Everytime I see you I just try to hide away, but when we meet it’s just I can’t let go!

I was about to push her door open and announce my presence when my eyes fell upon her sitting on the edge of a chair, her back arched as if she were holding something, or looking at something, but I realised what was happening. “Hey!” I called, my voice low, with urgency. Surprising her, a razor tumbled out of her hands and fell to the floor; clean. “Don’t do that! Stop!” I hissed.

She whirled around, “Michael!” she exclaimed, startled, trying to place her foot over the razor, but it was too late, “what are you doing here?”

“Saving you as usual,” I mumbled, closing the door quickly behind her. I could see she’d been crying. There was a suitcase open on her bed. I felt really disappointed in her, but I knew it to be more of a sickness; an addiction and something that helped her cope with her stress.

“You scared the crap out of me,” she exclaimed again, showing annoyance rather than happiness to see me.

“I scared the razor out of you…” I retorted. She grimaced, still looking upset with me. “Malania, come on… Just talk to me.”

She dropped the ignorant act, she stopped pretending I hadn’t found her, avoiding my blunt comments, instead she looked at me and scowled. “I. don’t. want. To. Go. To. Treatment.” She spoke in fragmented sentences, trying to keep from showing too much emotion.

I got up and turned her music down a little bit so that it still drowned out our conversation so as no one could eavesdrop and hear what I’d just caught her about to do.

“Did you cut?” I asked point-blank.

“No, you just caught me,” she murmured.

“Well, this is why you need to go to treatment. I know you don’t want to, I don’t want you to either, but this is for the best, Malania, I don’t want to ever walk in on you doing this again. I don’t want it to be the way that you deal. I don’t want someone that I care about to harm herself when talking to me is another option. You deserve to be better to yourself than this.”

She wiped a tear away.

“Move your foot,” I told her, crouching down, tapping her calf, “I’ll be taking that razor to the garbage. You are not taking it with you.”

I picked it up carefully and put it in the garbage. I knew it was safe, I’d be with her until she left.

“Why did you come back?” she asked wiping her eyes.

“Because, I didn’t want to see you off the way I did. I wanted it to be more special,” I told her, but in all honesty, my romantic gesture was foreshadowed by her self-harm attempt. “I wanted to be more spontaneous.”

“And now I’ve disappointed you… Good job, Malania.”

I sat down on her bed and patted a spot beside me. “Come over here…” I outstretched my hand. With reluctance, she took it, and let me guide her next to me. “Forget it, okay? I’m glad I came when I did. I’m not disappointed, but I’d lie if I said I wasn’t frustrated with you; but that’s not your fault…”

She avoided my eyes as usual. I took her hand in both of mine and kissed her fingertips. “I’m only frustrated because I wish you’d see how beautiful you are and how much you deserve. I want only amazing things for you, no one has ever really give me their heart the way you have…or won mine the way you have…” I admitted to her, “and I you just really need to see that… and I think with treatment, you will.”

She breathed in and exhaled slowly, as if she was composing herself. “I know how much my parents love me, Michael, my Mom loves me in the most infinite way she knows how, but… the way that you treat me, it feels too kind, sometimes I don’t know how to handle it.”

I ran my fingers through her hair from the crown of her head slowly and absently. Her hair was so soft and so long.

“Trust me, I’ve been there. Your Mom and My Mom have some likeness, sweetheart, self-worth isn’t something either of them have ever been good at instilling in to us because they don’t possess a great deal of it themselves… but you make me feel worthy every single day and I only want to be able to make you feel like that too.”

“You do… but then when you’re not with me, it hits me again… how awful I feel in my own skin,” she admitted almost in a whisper.

It was probably the most real conversation we’d ever had.

“And that’s why treatment will be good. I know I can make you feel full of self-worth, but I want you to be able to feel that all the time, without me blowing your trumpet all day long.”

She began to giggle at my purposely silly expression. I smiled too. She knew I was right.

“Thank you…” she said finally, glancing up to look me in the eyes. Her beautiful chocolate eyes searched mine for a second. I glanced at her soft, pink, moist lips and kissed them gently and lingeringly. I watched her as she opened her eyes slowly as if savouring the moment.

And that was the moment for me; in that very moment I fell in love with her.

My soul was afloat and my skin felt tingly and the warmth in her smile with the glint of clear film covering her eyes made my heart want to overflow with emotion and affection and I wanted to be near to her, so near that I could feel her heart beat against mine and could smell the freshness of her soft skin beneath mine.

I fell in love with each part of separately; her heart first, her mind second, her body third and then together, completely all at once, I loved her.

I almost became emotional myself, but I reeled myself back. I was never one for showing my cards prematurely; especially not while she was in such a state; I felt like I was in too much of an advantageous position, I felt like she might tell me something that was in the heat of the moment that didn’t reflect her more sober state of mind.

“Always…” I mumbled in reply.

I let go of her hands and reached in to my jacket pocket. “I actually got you something,” I felt my hands shaking a little with my sudden interior revelation and sluggishly worked to gather my composure.

“What?”

“Just a small gift, Carsen and I have been shopping this afternoon…” I smiled at her, “I saw this and I was like, ‘Malania needs to have this’, I feel like you’ll like it.” She didn’t wear much jewellery save for a silver band on her right thumb and a tiny silver diamond ring on her middle finger on the same hand.

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw the Tiffany & co box. “Michael, no, you didn’t need to…”

“Can you be less stubborn when I want to buy things for you, please, the less resistance, the better, I hate arguing over gifts… accept it,” I told her in a half-serious way. Secretly I was glad that she didn’t expect anything of material value from me, it made me more inclined to want to adorn her with gifts.

“Here,” I handed her the box, “open it…”

She looked up at me with a smile, gingerly taking the box. “Michael, are you serious, you are too generous…”

I laughed, she hadn’t even pulled the ribbon off it yet. I loved how excited she was. “Don’t speak too soon, it might just be cuff-links that I bought for myself and wanted your opinion on,” I joked.

She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes as if to mock-anger, but she didn’t mean it. I watched her pull the hem of the ribbon from the box and carefully place it down beside her as if she might want to reuse it.

She opened the lid of the box and about gasped at the necklace. “Michael, this is beautiful, thank you…” She lifted the Tiffany & co flat heart charm out, realising how long it was. “I love it, I love that the chain is really fine.”

“Really, its okay? This is the first time I’ve personally bought jewellery for a girl I like, you know…” I told her with a little embarrassment, “so if its not okay, you can be honest, I’d prefer you have something you love.”

“Quiet,” she told me, “I love this, its perfect.” She leaned over and kissed my mouth, almost throwing me off-guard, “thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“Do you want to wear it?” I asked her, that was the real test. If she wanted to put it back in the box for special occasions, I knew it meant that she didn’t really like it.

“Um, of course,” she exclaimed sarcastically, “can you?” she passed it to me and turned her back to me. I carefully unclipped the clasp and encircled it around her delicately, clipping it at the back of her hair. I lifted her dark tresses that tumbled down, over her shoulders and felt her pulling it forward so that the chain sat at the base of her smooth neck. I couldn’t help myself, I leaned over and kissed her nape, tantalised by the scent of her rich perfume. 

I felt her surprise by my kiss, but she didn’t jerk away, though I did see the immediate rise of goose bumps on the surface of her skin. I gently let go of her hair, smoothing it down as she turned back to me.

“Thank you so much…” she closed the empty box and let the heart dangle just above her breast.

“I know this might sound cheesy, but… I wanted to give you my heart… This…” I leaned forward, picking up the heart charm, “is a bit symbolic; my heart with you while you’re away… if you struggle, you know I’m with you when I physically can’t be. Okay?” I felt my cheeks growing hot, wondering how she would take it.

She took it from me and held it for a moment in the palm of her hands, looking at it. She enclosed her fingers around it and pulled the neck of the long-sleeved shirt she was wearing, dropping the heart and letting it disappear in to the abyss of her undergarments. “Thank you, Michael,” she said in a serious and sincere tone once her attention had been focused back upon me, “that’s the nicest gesture anyone could have made.”

I wanted to tell her it was because I loved her.

I wanted to put it all on the line.

I held back because I promised we would take things one day at a time and I knew that wasn’t just beneficial for her, but also for me. I wondered how it was that I was bestowed such an amazing blessing in my life when the rest of it was sheer turmoil.

I interiorly praised God; or the universe, or whatever force was responsible for sending Malania my way. She made me feel like I was enough. Her responses to everything I offered her were so perfect. She made just the right amount of fuss without being over-the-top or being without being so underwhelmed by my gestures that she made me wonder why I bothered.

My mother always told me that God’s timing was perfect and in that moment I truly believed it.

“You’re welcome… I meant every word of it.

**

When we drove in to the treatment facility, I was suitably impressed. It looked like a fancy kind of day-spa. Malania’s fingers were laced through mine nested between the small space between us in the back seat of my SUV. It was the only way we could all fit. George sat at the front and Helena sat on Malania’s other side; she too was clutching her hand.

I noticed the closer she was to getting out, the harder she clenched my hand.

“You all good?” I asked, noticing that she was a bit calmer and had more of a resolve that she was going to give it her best shot at getting better. I was glad to hear that. The thought of me having to monitor her behaviours constantly was a great concern. It wasn’t something that would be a deal breaker, but I knew that in order for us to have a proper, functioning relationship, she’d need to be at her best; as did I.

She nodded. “Yeah, I am…”

I squeezed her hand; it was our silent, private communication. She squeezed back. It allowed me to know she was telling the truth.

“Maybe you’ll make some friends…” Helena remarked as if she really were going to a day spa. It was a daft, thoughtless comment and I knew she didn’t mean any harm by it, but I almost clapped my hand against my forehead.

Her mother was very, very sweet, but I was aware she had almost zero idea of how to be helpful in a situation that required emotional support. Malania said nothing in response. I knew she was irritated by the comment, but she let it go as she did with most ways that her mother upset her.

“Is this okay here, guys?” Carsen asked. He pulled to a halt right in front of the reception area.

George told him it was fine. Both of her parents slid out of the car. The door remained open for Malania, and Helena looked at her expectantly.

“Give them a moment,” George urged her, pulling her away and leaning to close the door for a second.

“Dad gets it…” she murmured, “Mama has no idea half of the time, I’m sure.”

I just smiled. I wanted to remain neutral on all matters relating to her parents. “Well, this is it, my heart…” I told her.

Her lips upturned in to a smile as well. “I like that,” she told me, “your heart…” she repeated.

“You are,” I replied, confirming it as I unclipped her safety belt. She had turned in to face me. We shared an exchange as I stroked her hair that framed her face. She rarely had it tied back these days. “You’re my heart…”

“You’re mine too, you know,” she informed me.

“That’s good to know, I’ll hold on to that, you know… while you’re away,” I told her. “I need you to be strong, okay?”

She nodded. “You too, Michael, please be strong this week, regardless… Think of me…”

“I will… now, you go in there and you show them how serious you are about recovery and when you come out when you’re done in eight weeks, you’ll be on fire with confidence and self-worth. And I believe in you, okay?”

I noticed she was getting a little teary, so I decided to cut it short. “Come on, give me a hug…” I urged her.

She slipped her arms around me and I gripped her tightly. “You’re okay, Malania, I promise…” I kissed her temple and waited for her to loosen her embrace. When she did, we shared a series of short, soft kisses.

“See you soon, okay? As soon as you’re allowed, you call me sweetheart, okay? And I’ll come see you…”

“Okay.” she nodded bravely, “see you…”

And then she slipped out of the car and in to the reception before I knew it.

It was going to be a lo-ong week.