The Remasking

Chapter 7

“Daddy!”  Paris and Prince hop into the car and jump into Michael’s arms.  He places his large hands on the back of their heads and easily brings them to his heart.

“Are you okay?” he asks them before awarding them each with a kiss on their small foreheads.

They both nod assuring their well-being.  Michael sits them back and places them in their booster seats.  Once they’re safely strapped in, he lets the driver know to take off.

Our kids are in between us but the tension is so strongly felt.  He doesn’t say a word for quite some time.  I’m almost able to breathe and release my worries of him being angry.

But once halfway to his home, he lets me have a glimpse of how he really feels.  “I can’t believe you would do something so stupid,” he murmurs.

My lips slightly part and I take in the stale air.  Without looking his direction, I quietly apologize.  “I’m sorry, Michael.”

“I can’t say what I desire to in front of the kids but please, tell me what you were thinking.”

I refrain from answering his question because I know it won’t be good enough.

“You’re not Grace.”

His words bring my voice to life.  “No.  I’m not Grace.  I’m their mother.  It kills me how she can go out with them freely but I can’t.”

“You’re…”  He turns away from me as his frustration gets in the way of his thoughts.

For the remainder of the car ride, not another word is spoken.

~*~

Michael stayed with the kids for a while once we got to the house.  I stayed in the guest house, away from the main quarters.  I wanted to leave but I refused to without the children.  So I’ve been waiting impatiently for him to come to me for hours. 

I fear for them just as much as he does.  Some people say we’re just overprotective parents but that’s not the word I would use to pinpoint how we care for our kids.  When Prince and Paris were first born, we received ransom and death threats.  It scared the life out of me.  After we already revealed Prince to the world in a magazine article years ago, Michael promised he would never show them off again.  He didn’t want his children to feel the pressure he felt as a child and he surely didn’t want to put them in any danger.  I knew this.  I agreed with him on everything but I just really needed that moment alone with my babies.

The subtle knock on my door steals my attention away from the television.  I watch Michael invite himself into the room.  I’m in the bedroom sitting at the edge of the bed.  The two back legs of a chair scratches against the floor as he pulls it close to me.

He takes a seat and I wait for him to voice his opinions of my lack of care for our children but he just stares at me, as if he’s waiting for me to speak first.

“I said I was sorry.  What more do you expect?” I said frustrated.

“I don’t think that’s good enough.”

I whip my head to the side and sigh simultaneously.  “I just wanted to go out with my kids, freely, for once,” I plead.  “I hate that they always have to hide behind a mask because of who their father is.”

“Excuse me?”  I can see from his curved, knit eyebrows he’s offended.  “So, you’re a nobody?”

“Michael, I’m a designer.  If I wasn’t married to you, I wouldn’t be recognized walking down the street.”

“So then, it’s all me.”  He sits up straight in his chair and clenches his knees.  “Everything is my fault?”

“No.  I’m not saying anything is your fault.  But because I’m married to you, and because you’re their father, and because you’re so renowned, we have to shield ourselves from the public.  After what happened in NYC, I realized how precious time is.  I wanted nothing more in that moment than my family.  And I’ve been thinking about it a lot, you know?  This isn’t the life I want.  This isn’t a life I feel I can handle.”