(18+) The Guest (Complete)

Ch. 81: Difficult

Our house in Madrid was sold pretty quick. Who wouldn't want to buy a house where Michael Jackson had lived? It was worse to sell the hotel. And it didn't make it any better that my parents weren't happy about my decision. But at least dad understood why, and he told me that mom would get around too. Eventually. But I gotta admit that it felt like we took two steps back in our relationship, after finally having moved forward a little. Luckily, I was too occupied with Lilly and Michael, and coping with my new lifestyle, to worry about it. Plus, Michael had helped me hire a temporary CEO to take care of the hotel business until it was sold, in addition to Sophia who also promised she would stay for the rest of the remaining time. I owed her my life for standing by my side through this rough time. She was a unique friend with a heart of gold, and I promised myself to give her a generous bonus when she headed out into the big world. She deserved that.

Michael was working really hard. So hard, I was seriously concerned that he wasn't dealing with his feelings about what happened to him, at all. He just pushed it ahead of him and pretended like normal. But Michael during daytime was something completely different from Michael during night time. At night I could see the little scared boy in him, who was haunted by his own mind.

"When are you going talk to a therapist?" I asked quietly, when we laid side by side in the bed, staring into the dark room. He just woke up from another nightmare and was still struggling to get control of his breathing.

"I can't," he said eventually, and I squeezed his hand a little to comfort him. I don't think it helped much. It was like we'd distanced ourselves from each other and tried to deal with our difficulties on our own. Sure, we cuddled and kissed, but it wasn't the same. I still got flashbacks about him and her whenever we tried to get intimate, and Michael was rarely in the mood, either. But I missed it. The sex. And I knew he did, too. It was just too difficult to let ourselves go the way we used to.

"You keep saying that, but why?"

He was quiet for a while before he turned on the side to face me. He let go of my hand to rest his head on his arm, and I could see him gazing at me with eyes that held more emotions than one person should bear. If only I could take it away.

"I can't," he repeated with a sigh.

"Because I can't trust anyone."

He lifted his other hand up and stroked his finger over my lips.

"Only you. And my family."

"But therapists have signed confidentiality papers, and aren't allowed..."

"Those papers aren't worth the paper it's written on. Not when you're Michael Jackson. It's gonna come out in one way or another, and I don't want that."

I drew circles on his chest and felt the tiny curls that were his chest hair against my finger pad. For some reason I never got tired of that.

"You're still sure you don't want to tell them?"

By 'them' I meant pretty much the whole world, and I knew that would be tough for him. He was a very sensitive man and wanted to protect his privacy, and a part of me agreed with that. The other part felt that it would be easier for him both to get everything out of his system once and for all, and to make Sarah pay properly for what she did. Settling in private seemed too kind.