Chapter 67

I woke up early in the morning buried beneath a mess of my own fluffy hair. I knew I’d given Michael a dead arm in the night. He had woken me up trying to extricate himself from the embrace we had fallen asleep in.

I rolled over and swept my hair up out of the way and inched back, nestling myself in to his body. He draped an arm over me, cupping my bare breast in his hand. I couldn’t explain it, but it felt comfortable. His body was warm as was mine and I had affection for him within my heart that I knew no words would adequately convey.

I considered getting up and going for a morning walk along the beach, but I just wanted to lay in the warmth of Michael’s arms for as long as possible, not wanting our experience with one another to end so soon.

Soon enough we would be back to reality. We would be headed off to our respective therapists, the trial would begin and then life would grow a little more tumultuous for us again.

“You awake?” Michael murmured in to my ear.

“Yeah baby…” I yawned.

I felt him kiss the back of my neck. “Let’s not get up yet…”

“I don’t know if I can go back to sleep—“ I told him honestly. I always seemed to wake up like clockwork each day at around 8am. Quite late generally speaking, but not really given how late we usually stayed up.

He hushed me and stroked my arm. I closed my eyes and tried my hardest to sleep again.

I woke up a little while later. I looked around and couldn’t find Michael anywhere. “Michael?” I called out, sitting up, pulling the white sheet up under my arms.

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. “Where are you?” I asked, rubbing my eyes and yawning.

“I’m just here…” he announced, appearing in the doorway. “You were looking so sweet sleeping there,” he remarked, “I wanted to let you rest.”

He had his hair tied back and was wearing absolutely nothing but a pair of white jocks. He leaned over the bed and kissed me on the lips. “Good morning…”

“You look gorgeous today.”

“My hair’s crazy,” he told me, smoothing it down subconsciously. I wasn’t too worried about his hair, I was more interested in his smooth, entirely hairless caramel-coloured skin.

“Whatever… your hair is crazy but your body looks hot as heck,” I informed him.

He took a seat on the bed beside me. I reached over and drew a line from his shoulder blade to his chest, mapping my touch over a very light patch of skin. “Is this what you were talking about before?”

He grabbed my hand almost a little irritated. “Yes.” He reached down to grab the shirt that I’d tossed aside when I went to sleep the night before.

“No…” I said quickly, realising I had hit a raw nerve. I’d seen his scars, I’d never mentioned anything about it. It was something we both politely ignored. I knew it bothered him and it was something that he had become increasingly worried about since we met. “Don’t do that,” I added.

“I don’t really want to-“

“I don’t care.” I cut him off. “I love you. I don’t care about your scars, I don’t care if they get worse; I just want you to be comfortable with me and talk to me if its bothering you, let’s not pretend it doesn’t exist – like I do with my scars.”

We both knew I wasn’t only talking about physical scars.

“I don’t like talking about it,” he said to me with a sigh. “It makes me nervous to think about how I’m going to look in ten years from now.”

I gave him a cheeky little smile, “Still hot, I’d say.”

He nudged me gently with his shoulder. “No, for real…”

“I know you worry about it, Michael and the concerns are valid, especially when you’re a public face – but you’re worrying about nothing. If it gets worse you can worry, but for now its okay. You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

He just nodded. I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I love you…”

Slowly he smiled at me. “I love you too… It’s too early for this conversation.”

I decided to let it go. “What’s on the cards for today?” I asked him. “Are you coming back to bed to snuggle me?”

His smile grew in to a grin. “No, I’m downstairs making breakfast for you.”

I laughed. Michael had really learned some skills while I was away at treatment. “Really?” I wondered, “what are you making me?”

“Actually, I have to be honest, I ordered room service, but I’m just getting ready to bring it up here so we can eat together on the balcony if you like.”

“Sounds great.”

**

I got up and made my way to the bathroom to splash my face and brush my teeth from the night before. The bathroom was a little bit of a mess from how we’d left it. Seeing the towels in a puddle on the floor, I reflected back on how everything went.

I felt my cheeks flush as I remembered being hoisted on to the bathroom countertop and entirely losing my senses as soon as he slid in to me. I never thought I’d be able to relax enough with anyone to be able to let them take care of business. I imagined that the second I started to feel any kind of loss of control, I’d be panicked and stopping them.

Michael was the perfect mix of reassuring and assertive. Maybe I wouldn’t have allowed myself to orgasm if he hadn’t been so insistent that he wanted me to have a turn. Maybe I wouldn’t have allowed him to put me in just about any position he wanted me in, had he not given me the time and space I needed to become comfortable with my nudity, his intimate touch and his affection.

“What are you grinning at?” he asked, standing in the doorway with his arms folded looking pleased with himself.

The grin immediately faded and was replaced with rosy cheeks. “Nothing,” I replied.

“Don’t tell me nothing…” he had a beautiful smile adorning his lips. The tension lines caused by our conversation just moments earlier were gone from his forehead.

My instant reaction was to cover my breasts with hands, feeling a little shy as he came behind me while I stared at his reflection in the mirror. I told myself not to be stupid, he was naked save for a pair of grey trunks, leaving very little to my imagination.

“I was just thinking about last night, actually.” I told him, trying to be nonchalant.

He grinned too. “Bit of a mess in here isn’t it?” he nodded toward the same sopping wet towels pooled on the floor.

“I’ll tidy up after breakfast so that the cleaners don’t think we’re giant sloths.”

He rested his hands on my hips and leaned in to kiss my forehead. “I’m glad to see you grinning over it. Makes me feel like you really enjoyed yourself.”

“I did,” I told him, putting some toothpaste on my brush.

“I’ll let you finish up here and I’ll meet you on the balcony…” he kissed me again and let his hand graze from my hips, across my waist as he left me to it. Sometimes his touch was so brief but it managed to make me feel so wanted.

I brushed my teeth to get rid of my morning breath and then threw a white tank on that I plucked at random from my bag. It was already warming up outside. From the balcony window I could see the sun burning its way through the clouds, shining straight through the curtains.

Michael had left the sliding door open, waiting for me.

I was pretty impressed with the tray of food Michael had ordered. He had placed it on a small outdoor setting to the left corner of the balcony. I wondered what had changed overnight, he had almost been frightened of standing outside, worried that someone might see him.

He didn’t seem bothered one little bit. I decided not to say a word about it.

“This looks great,” I smiled, taking a seat. Upon the tray was the kind of breakfast I hadn’t eaten since being with Michael at Neverland. Muesli and yoghurt with berries; there was French toast with maple syrup and scrambled eggs and tea! I loved that he always remembered my tea.

“Time to start eating better, huh?” he remarked. He was referring to the fact that we were both frequently smashing through boxes of coco puffs for more than a meal or two a day.

I laughed. “Maybe.”

“You know, when we get home, we could get Carsen to go proper grocery shopping for us, so we can eat real food – we could both cook, you could teach me more?”

“You know what I’d like?” I said slowly and thoughtfully. Michael waited for me to continue. “I’d like to actually do something a bit normal, myself. Maybe I’ll go grocery shopping.”

He started to smile wistfully. “I wish I could go grocery shopping. It seems like such a dumb thing to aspire to—but goodness, could you imagine?” I felt bad because the very idea excited him. His smile spread in to a grin that lit up his face. His eyes seemed to twinkle when he talked about doing ‘normal’ things. “Remember that time we went to Pismo beach and we went to the corner store where the shopkeeper saw us?”

I nodded. I hated that. It was a horrifying sight when we arrived back to Neverland. I tried not to show my revolt for that situation. I smiled, encouraging him to continue as I grabbed a piece of the French toast.

“Getting to go inside that little shop and just look at all the products was so much fun—I am aware how lame that sounds – and I’m not so out of touch that groceries excite the shit out of me, but the experience would be cool. To just be all, ‘Ok, Mal, I’ve got the list, let’s go’ and we jump in the car and go shopping together. I’d push the cart and read the list out to you and you’d buy the right products—we’d squabble over what toilet paper to buy or what soap smells better.”

I listened to him dream out loud and felt myself becoming a little emotional; my vision became blurred by a clear film of water. Michael was grinning away, spooning some scrambled eggs on to his plate absently.

I blinked back the tears. I felt a little silly for getting so emotional, but the fact of the matter was that I would never get to experience all of those normal things with him – not only that, but also he was so incredibly sheltered by his own fame that normal things seemed like an exciting fantasy. It saddened me to tears.

“Wait—“ he quickly halted himself. The smile dropped from his lips, “Mal, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” I chuckled, feeling dumb. I wiped my eyes. “I’m just being stupid.”

“No,” he said, his eyes gazing in to mine, silently demanding an explanation, “what’s wrong, why are you crying?”

“I just feel sad that those normal things have been taken away from you… that’s all, I know its silly.”

He seemed a little surprised and I knew he was briefly considering my words. His troubled look was quickly replaced by a smile again. “Don’t worry, my heart, whenever I’m bothered by things like this, I just remember how blessed my life has been to date… you can’t even imagine the amazing adventures I’ve been able to live since being a child.”

He wasn’t fooling me. He had made the comment that he toured so often as a child and in to adulthood that half of the time he had no idea where he was and that there was rarely time to even do anything besides rest and sing.

I didn’t want to make him feel sad so I just summoned up my best smile. “Sorry, that was a really cute little scenario. I wish we could do that too.”

He reached over and slipped his hand behind my neck and stroked my skin softly and affectionately, regarding me with a loving look. “One day, Mal, I promise… We’ll have a normal time together.”

I focused on my muesli and fruit and poured a little bit of maple syrup over my French toast. “One day…” I let my voice trail off.

“Hey, so I wanted to talk to you about something important,” he began. Suddenly I had a comical thought about him luring me up to his Giving Tree to tell me the world knew about my dirty laundry.

I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for my reaction and Michael’s cluelessness.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, spooning some of my breakfast in my mouth.

“I was about to fall asleep last night and something struck me. And it’s totally my fault…”

“Yes….?” I prompted him mid-chew, thinking that I was about to hear something that would upset me.

“We didn’t use protection and I thought maybe you….”

Shit.

“I didn’t think-“ I stopped, dropping my spoon, “shit, Michael!”

“I know; it’s my fault. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was prepared in just about every other way—I’m really sorry.”

I thought it was kind of him to truly believe it was all on him—but it wasn’t. It was just as much my responsibility. “I’m sorry too….” I murmured, “shit.”

“I don’t know how you feel about this, but I can get Carsen to go to the pharmacy and get a pill or something for you—“

I wasn’t sure why, but I felt my stomach clench up. I was almost offended by the thought of Michael considering a baby to be a complication that he was only too happy to get rid of, when he was so willing to father children to Diane who never really loved him.

However; I didn’t want to be pregnant. I loved my niece with all of my heart and I even had love for Samuel’s two children, but I wasn’t ready to be a mother nor was I sure I’d ever be.

Still, I felt a pang of hurt.

I realised Michael’s words were still hanging; suspended in the air, eagerly awaiting a response from me.

“Sure…” I let my voice trail off. “Let’s do that.”

“Okay?” he asked, looking at me to make sure I was truly okay with it.

I wasn’t. I felt conflicted and I wasn’t even sure if it was fair to be hurt because having a child was something I definitely didn’t want.

“Yeah.”

I shovelled more muesli in to my mouth and listened to what sounded like the deafening crunches of my food. I was aware that he probably noticed the instant shift in my mood, but I didn’t really care.

All I could think of was Diane and how he would have been willing to turn back time and agree to having another baby with her. He had admitted, that had she continued to press him, he would have agreed and truly believed it might have changed the circumstances he was facing.

He had shared that he wanted a family with her; how hurt he’d been when she wasn’t as thrilled by the pregnancy as he was.

And now, the idea of having a child with me revolted him so much that he couldn’t wait to hit the panic button and send one of his yes-men to get a potent pill to dissolve any possibility of life that may have lived inside of me

The night of intimacy we shared felt like it meant nothing. He had allowed me to place every tiny shred of my trust in him.

It almost took it all away.

“Mal, are you okay? We don’t have to do that.”

Another mouthful.

I tried to recall how Raia had instructed me to deal with communication issues. She advised me to never respond in an accusatory way, but to rather speak my mind and allow him to share his point of view.

When we are emotional, we often hear what we want to hear and take meaning away from words that is not necessarily the intention of the person speaking them.

“It’s fine, get Carsen to get me the morning-after pill for the mistake you made last night,” I replied in monotone, ironically the kind of way that someone might ask their partner to add a food item to the shopping list. As if I couldn’t have given one tiny shit about any of it.

“No,” he said quickly, seeming hurt. I heard the scrape of his chair scooting closer. “That’s not what I said, my heart. None of it was a mistake.”

“But having a baby with me would be.”

He fell silent. I felt as though I was being unfair, but I couldn’t help it. What I spoke was the truth. A baby together at this time would have been a mistake, but hearing the words was hurtful to us both.

“Well—?” I pressed, “am I right?” when he didn’t answer straight away, I answered for him, “I’m the least responsible person you know, I’m a fucking disaster, having a child with me would be crazy.”

“Wait,” he stopped me, holding his hand up, halting me, “where on earth is all this coming from? You don’t get to project your own feelings about yourself on to me, Malania, that is not at all what I said.”

It was strange how I managed to become emotionally triggered by the dumbest things. I hadn’t been triggered by Michael’s actions earlier in the month. I hadn’t even been triggered when my family broke the news about Samuel. I’d not even been particularly triggered when he initially slid his penis in to me a little too excitedly, using a force that surprised me and even hurt a little.

The idea that I’d basically let down every little piece of my guard to the man that I loved and came to the realisation that both of us acted irresponsibly seemed to overwhelm me instantly. I’d gone from feeling relaxed, calm and content to anxious, angry, hurt and… panicky.

I was questioning everything.

I reminded myself to breathe.

“Malania?” he pressed, I’d tuned him out for the moment, withdrawing from the conversation and focusing on the panicked thoughts that became so loud.

“I can’t-“ I told him bluntly. I got up and left the table and found my way to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I didn’t want to lose my cool. I didn’t want to say stupid things. I didn’t want him to think I was crazy.

I just wanted a moment to try to quiet the thoughts and the urges. I needed the moment to assure myself that he wasn’t trying to be hurtful, that he was trying to protect me.

I heard him knocking on the door asking me to open it. I pulled the lid of the toilet seat down and sat on top of it. I buried my face in my hands for a moment and concentrated on breathing.

Maybe the anxiety had been brewing in the back of my brain from our sexual encounter. Maybe it was waiting for just the right moment to take me by surprise and fuck up my squeaky-clean track record since I’d left treatment.

“Malania, open the door – don’t run away from me.”

“Just give me a few minutes—“ I called back with irate.

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he insisted, “can you please come out or unlock the door?”

I didn’t answer. I knew what he was thinking. I eyed the bag that kept all of my toiletries. Michael had thrown a few of his own things in there; a toothbrush, his comb, a little bottle of cologne and his shaver.

The bag was unzipped; its contents were half spilled over the vanity. It was a mess that I’d left from brushing my teeth. I eyed off the razor, becoming transfixed on it for a moment. It really seemed appealing.

I went back and forth for a few moments. The urge engulfed me entirely. I wanted to pick it up and press it in to my skin. I wanted to make myself bleed so the anxiety and the pressure that I felt coursing through my veins could be expelled.

I almost committed to the idea. Standing up, I took a shaky step toward the basin. It had been almost one month since I’d left treatment. It had been a little over two months since my last successful cut. It would have been easy. Michael would have forgiven me. I would have admitted it to Raia and she would have agreed that it was the wrong thing to do, but would have understood.

I took a deep breath and began to count from 1 to 10. When I concentrated on counting from 10 back to 1, I made a decision.

I unlocked the door and threw it open.

Michael stood against it and nearly barrelled in on top of me. “Thank God…” he murmured.

I knew he had assumed that I was cutting or something. The first thing he did was inspect the bathroom behind me. “Malania, talk to me – why are you so upset? I told you, we don’t have to get Carsen to do anything.”

“I don’t want a baby.” I blurted out, tears filling my eyes.

He took me in his arms and held me for a moment. “That’s okay, I don’t expect you to want to carry my child when we’ve barely experienced each other…”

I pulled away and wiped my eyes. “I bet you never asked Diane to take a pill the next day,” I said quietly. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings and I didn’t want to end up in a big fight, but if I didn’t tell him why I was so thrown by what he’d said, he would have started to think that I was incredibly high maintenance and that I couldn’t handle anything but perfect, good news.

He clapped his hand over his forehead as if it had dawned on him why I’d been so reactive. “Goodness, Mal, seriously?”

I said nothing. I sat on the foot of our bed, hugging myself self-consciously.

“I never asked Diane to take a pill because she was probably already taking birth control anyway. I was in an established relationship with her – we already had one kid and my career was great, there was no overhanging possibility that I would go to jail for being a paedophile.”

Both of us hated to say those words out loud. It made us both recoil slightly. A surreal thought, but not an entirely unrealistic one.

When I didn’t say anything he came to my side and sat by me putting an arm around me. “And Mal, I know you don’t want to be anyone’s mother at this point. You are still figuring out what you want and understanding how to take care of yourself emotionally – I would never ever want to jeopardise your healing – or even my own.”

I used my palms to wipe my eyes. “What if I were normal?”

He chuckled and kissed my temple. “You are normal; but even if you felt totally healthy, I still have this circumstance. I wouldn’t do that to you. Imagine if you had a baby and I had to go to prison? I would miss that child’s life… I couldn’t live with that.”

“Its unlikely that I’d be pregnant just from sleeping with you.” I murmured, feeling a little defeated.

“Dunno, sweetheart, I got those famous Jackson swimmers – you know my family is incredibly fertile,” he joked, making things a little more light-hearted. I felt him give me a slight nudge.

I was able to chuckle weakly. It was true, his brothers looked at women and they were suddenly with child.

“If the situation was different – and we didn’t just sleep together for the first time, if we were both at a good place, I’d never dare suggest that we prevent ourselves from having a child. Jeez Mal, trust me, I don’t feel good about the suggestion… but I love you too much to do any of this to you.”

“Okay.” I agreed. “Let’s get the pill.”

“Are you sure? I am not pushing you in to anything, it’s entirely your decision, Mal, and I’ll go along with whatever you feel comfortable with.” I knew he was scared of me freaking out again.

“Yes, I’m sure. Get the pill,” I replied firmly. “I’m sorry for freaking out.”

I knew my tone was still a little icy, but I was on the other end of what could have been a giant melt down for reasons that still didn’t make a lot of sense to either of us.

“Can you please come back and finish your breakfast? I’m sorry that I upset you.”

Reluctantly, I got up. I didn’t want to eat anything anymore. I drew in a deep breath and made my way out to the balcony. It did cross my mind briefly that it was my fault that his eggs would have been cold, but he didn’t seem too bothered over it.

**

After breakfast, Michael suggested that we go swimming again, but I didn’t feel like it. I wanted to go back to bed. I wanted to just bury my head in to my pillows and cry.

There was always plenty of room at Neverland. I could always leave Michael to do my own thing, but having my own space meant that if I were to go home, he wouldn’t just be able to walk down the hall and interrupt me while I was heading in to a few days of a dark place. Sometimes I did want to truly be alone. He found it hard to understand and felt as though I just needed to talk about it and then I’d feel better. He saw it as me shutting him out, but really I just needed time to feel how I wanted to feel and organise my thoughts and emotions.

Usually I was fine immediately after and missed him and wanted to be around him.

I was glad that the escrow was finally closing on the property that Kaito was buying for us. It was going to be a hectic week; moving out of Michael’s and in to my own place while the first few days of court were happening, but Kaito promised we’d manage.

I couldn’t wait to have my own room and my own space. Maybe it was just my upset talking, but I wouldn’t have felt bad about spending the day in bed while I was weepy.

Michael announced he was having a shower. I climbed back in to bed and squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block any of my emotions. All I wanted to do was cry.

He came back out and found me in bed. He seemed disappointed. I knew he was trying not to make a big deal out of what had happened at breakfast and was hoping we could leave my dark mood behind, but it wasn’t happening.

He dropped the towel from around himself and pulled on a pair of underwear. He sat down on the bed beside me and put an arm around me. “My heart… please don’t let this overshadow everything. I love you so much and I’m so sorry that I didn’t think last night. I got caught up in trying to do everything I could to put you at ease that I forgot everything else.”

I felt a pang of guilt. I knew it wasn’t entirely his responsibility.

He snuggled in to me from behind, holding me a little tighter. He kissed the back of my neck.

“Its as much my fault as yours,” I replied.

I rolled over to face him. I saw how sorry he was. His chocolate eyes studied me with concern. I felt bad for my thoughts about wanting to be alone when all he had been doing was trying to save my feelings.

I loved touching the smooth, honey skin of his face. I reached up and cupped his cheek in my hand. I felt bad for doubting that he loved me as much as he had, Diane.

“Can I ask something incredibly annoying?” I asked, a tiny smile, finding its way to my lips. I knew no matter how dumb and annoying my question, Michael would oblige me and assure me.

“Yes…” he smiled a little amused.

“You say you love me…” my voice trailed off.

“I love you,” he repeated with a nod of acknowledgement. The smile on his pale pink lips seemed to widen.

“How much do you love me?” I asked, realising how juvenile I was being.

He laughed lightly. “You want me to measure my love? Or do you want me to compare my love that I have for you, to the love that I had for anyone else in my past?”

I almost laughed at how well he had become at reading me. I averted my eyes from his for a second and I knew he had found out my answer.

“Are you doubting my love for you?” he asked, using his pointer to guide my chin upward so I would look at it him again.

“No…” I sighed, “I just freaked out earlier—you had a whole lifetime with someone else.”

“No I didn’t,” he smiled at me, “I have a past with someone else. I loved her, but what I loved more was her child and what I loved about having her and her child in my life was a sense of belonging finally. I loved the idea of having a family—the notion of having a wife to come home to, a child who adored me and maybe another on the way,” he explained. “I didn’t love how cruel she was to me at times; how she ignored her daughter at times or how she refused to ever truly love me back.”

He was so patient with me. I knew if the situation was reversed, I would have been frustrated and annoyed with him.

“But then why did the idea of having a family with me freak you out so much?”

He gave me a funny look. “Sweetheart,” he began, almost irritated. “the circumstance that is surrounding me is freaking me out. The idea of going to prison and leaving my girlfriend behind is freaking me out. The idea of you not coping very well with me going to prison freaks me out. The idea of not going to jail and becoming a Dad and having a child to someone who I truly believe would be an incredible mother does not freak me out.”

When I didn’t say anything he leaned in and kissed my lips. “I mean it. I know you’re not ready, but eventually I’d hope you would be and I hope when that happens we’ll be happily married and we’ll have been able to go to Japan together like we talked about, that we’d see the world – and even get in a trip to the supermarket without much bother…”

I found myself smiling, feeling the good kind of butterflies filling my tummy at the thought of a long-term future with him.

He kissed me again. “My love for you is measured against everything I’ve ever felt in my life. Happiness is just a mood, Mal, but being content and being joyful with you is how I feel. You don’t ever need to worry about Diane.”

I felt a wave of relief bucket over me. “She doesn’t have shit on you…” he winked.

“Okay,” I whispered, pressing my lips against his again.

“Now I know that I just had a shower, but let’s totally throw caution to the wind. Put on your bathing suit, I am taking you to the beach in broad daylight.”

I laughed. “Are you kidding? What if someone sees you?”

He shrugged. “I’ll get Carsen to take us to a quiet part. If it gets too crazy we’ll leave. But I wanna do something fun; something normal.”

“Okay,” I grinned. “Let’s do it.”