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Not That Saint

Summary:

Running from her past, Phoebe Harris decides to start a new chapter of her life in Los Santos. Little does she know that the new troubles await for her around the corner and one of them is a man, who accidentally saves her life, Michael de Santa.

Notes:

Late to the party, here I am again. I decided to give this story of mine another chance, this time with my female OC, Phoebe.

The story takes place not long after the ending C 😊 and italic is for text messages.

Chapter 1: Bad Place, Bad Time

Notes:

Important: I decided to rewrite this story (because I simply did not feel the direction it was going). At first, I planned to correct some details, but as it turned out, it would make more sense if you read it from the start - at least for me, it makes more sense, because many important details were changed. Of course, there is no obligation, I just did not want you, guys, to be confused. This is the reason I post first nine chapters again. (I don't know whether I'm doing the right thing or not). I would appreciate if you let me know what you think.

Thank you,
A.

Chapter Text

Everyone deserves a second chance, or at least that was what Phoebe Harris thought to herself as decided to leave her old life behind and start a completely new chapter of it in the place she has never thought she would end up in.

Los Santos.

City of dreams or maybe it would be better to call it the city of dreamers.

Phoebe was definitely one of them as she moved there, hoping it would be a good way to start over. What place could be better than this city, where you could get lost in the crowd and no one knew your name? It was a perfect place for her. From the moment she opened the door of her new apartment, she knew it was a good choice to leave everything behind. Even if the apartment itself was rather small, it was hers. It was her place, her four walls and the view she had from there on the city was making it up for all the inconveniences she had to face.

Also, at that moment, when she crossed the threshold of her new flat, she thought that everything would go easy from there. She has been through enough already and eventually, it had to be good. Life could not be the endless road of obstacles, right?

Oh, it was so foolish of her to believe it.

However, for a short time, it was going in the right direction and Phoebe could not complain. She settled in, made her new apartment her new home, got to know some nice people and found herself a decent job in one of the cafes in the centre of Los Santos. Everything was the way she wanted to and the moment she thought it would stay this way, everything changed.

Life always changes in the most unexpected moments, doesn’t it?

One day, almost three months after she had moved to Los Santos, she was walking back home from work. It was late, but she did not mind - she was used to getting back home at night and was not afraid of being alone outside after dark. Besides, Los Santos was never dark. On the contrary, it was always illuminated by the lights; always full of life. Many people were walking on the streets, going back from work, going to the parties or just wandering around. But on that particular day, Phoebe decided to go home different road, the less crowded one, where most of the lights were off. Everything seemed completely normal until she heard the shots behind her back and the sound of racing cars.

It all went quickly from that moment. Seconds later, she was lying on the ground, curling up from pain as one of the bullets went right through her left thigh. She moaned from the pain and watched the blood spreading on her light blue jeans. She cried for help, but the street was empty and no one could hear her screaming. She tried to get up, but she was losing blood too fast and it was too painful to move for her, so she crawled to the nearest wall and leaned her back against it, her breaths shallow as she began searching for her phone in the bag.

When she found it, her vision started getting black and after a short moment, she passed out. The last thing she heard was her phone falling on the ground and the crack as it hit the rough surface that was all covered in the blood.


Phoebe took a sharp breath as she opened her eyes, confused by the place she was in. Quickly, she realised that she was in the hospital, but she had no clue how she got there or how was it even possible she was still alive. She glanced at her thigh that was all wrapped in bandages and then she noticed her friend, Amy Reed, who was napping in the chair next to her bed. Phoebe took a closer look at her, realising she was wearing the exact same clothes she saw her in yesterday; her long, blonde hair was covering the half of her face as she moved, trying to change her already unnatural body position caused by the lack of space on the chair.

“A-Amy?” Phoebe’s voice cracked as she spoke her friend’s name. “Amy, wake up.”

“Pheebs?” Amy mumbled, blinking a few times, trying to adjust her eyes to the morning light. “You’re alive!” she jumped on the chair, realising it was not a dream and she was not delusional. “You scared the shit out of me! When I got a call from the hospital and I thought I was gonna get a heart attack! How are you feeling? How many times did I tell you not to go alone after dark, huh? What the hell were you thinking?”

“I’m alright, Amy, relax,” Phoebe tried to calm her down, but also understood why Amy was mad at her. She had told her at least a dozen times to call a cab when she was returning home from her afternoon shift, but Phoebe did not listen, thinking her friend was simply paranoid. “You were right, okay? I’m sorry...”

“You’d better be!” she scolded her, “I know this is Los Santos and weird things happen here, but this? What was that supposed to be?”

“Told you,” Phoebe looked at her friend, smiling gently, “if something bad is about to happen, it’s probably gonna happen to me.”

“Oh, I beg you,” Amy protested, “it was not your fault. You were just in a bad place at a bad time."

“I always am in a bad place at a bad time, Amy,” she chuckled and then moaned because when she tried to move, she felt the pain spreading through her left limb. “Fuck...”

“Easy, daredevil,” Amy joked and helped her to sit up, “you have been shot about seven hours ago, don’t strain yourself. The doctors said you will be okay, the wound is not that bad, but you must rest. Do you understand? You. Must. Rest.”

Phoebe nodded reluctantly and sighed, brushing back the strands of brown hair that fell on her pale face. She had never liked hospitals and disliked them more when her father passed away a few years earlier; she was the one to hold his hand as he was slowly dying after another failed operation. No wonder why, even though she did not feel well, she wanted to get out of this place as soon as it was possible or even crawl out of there if she had to.

“How long do I need to stay here?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“The doctor said you should be there for three days minimum,” Amy replied and dared to pat her friend’s arm. “It’s okay, Pheebs. I’ll be visiting you as often as I can, alright? Besides, three days? It’s nothing...”

“Yeah, but in here it seems like an eternity for me,” she groaned and her eyes scanned the room, noticing a beautiful bouquet of flowers on the bedside cabinet. “Wow, they’re pretty,” Phoebe smiled gently and reached out her right hand to touch them, “Mia, you needn’t have to...”

“They’re not from me,” Amy interrupted, giving her friend a questioning look. “The nurse brought them... about an hour ago and when I asked her who sent them, she said there’s a card attached to it and left.”

Phoebe carefully moved the bouquet around and quickly found a small, blue card sticking out from the flowers. She pulled it out of and turned the card around in her hands, realising there was a note on the back of it.

I hope your leg doesn’t hurt much,” she began reading quietly, “in case you’re wondering who sent you those flowers, they’re from the guy who found you yesterday and called the ambulance. I hope they made you smile, even just a little. Get well, M.”

“Well, that’s unexpected,” Amy pointed the obvious thing. “Who’s M?”

“Don’t you say,” Phoebe chuckled and looked carefully at the note, “and I have no idea who he is. Oh, look, there’s a phone number... You think I should text him?”

“You can even call him if you want,” the other girl laughed. “Come on, don’t ask me a question like this. Of course, you should text him! He left his number for a reason.”

“Alright,” Phoebe pondered. “I’ll think about it.”

“What’s there to think about?”

“I don’t know...” she replied. “I guess, I don’t want to bother him. Don’t look at me like that...”

“So you need a little push? Give me that,” Amy ordered and snatched the note from Phoebe’s hands. Then she reached out for her friend’s phone and without asking for permission, she picked his number and started typing a new message to him. “Thank you for the flowers, M. You needn’t have to, but yes, they made me smile. A little,” she was saying and moved away from Phoebe as she tried to get her phone back, cursing at Amy under her breath. “Sent.”

“No, no, no,” Phoebe muttered as Amy threw her phone back at her, “for god’s sake, Amy!”

“Listen, I need to go to work,” her friend stated suddenly, grabbing her denim jacket and bag, “but you will thank me later, Pheebs. Have some courage.”

And with the last words spoken, she left, leaving angry Phoebe by herself. She cursed under her breath once again and moved her leg rapidly, quickly regretting this choice of expressing her anger. She unlocked her phone and checked on her sent messages folder, realising Amy was not joking.

She sent that goddamn message to him.
“Damn,” Phoebe grumbled, lying down slowly, “damn you, Amy.”

To her surprise, her phone vibrated after a short moment, letting her know she received a new message:

You’re welcome. I’m glad I could make you smile.

Phoebe smiled at the screen, but then she realised that she had not thanked him for the most important thing. She quickly tapped ‘reply’ and started typing:

How can I thank you for saving my life, too?

A few seconds passed and she received another reply.

Text me when you’ll get proper rest and your leg won’t hurt this much. I might take you out for a coffee then.

She puffed, realising whoever this man was, he was surely self-confident. She pondered for a while thinking of a good response.

And what makes you think I would agree for your proposition?

Again, it was not even a minute of waiting for another reply.

You asked me how you can thank me. Coffee sounds nice, don’t you think?

Phoebe rolled up her eyes and shook her head slowly thinking what exactly was she doing. It was not in her style to text with a man he has never seen in her life, yet when he replied on a text that Amy sent to him, he also got her intrigued.

Little did she know, what she was getting herself into when her slim fingers texted ‘ It does. If that’s what it takes to thank you for saving my life, count me in.’ and sent it before she would change her mind. In order to escape trouble, she was getting herself into another one, but at that moment, she did not know that nor cared about that. All she could think of was two things: to get out of the hospital quickly and what type of coffee he likes.

Chapter 2: Café Redemption

Chapter Text

In the end, it took Phoebe a week to get back on her feet. One long week she had to spend in the hospital and when she eventually got out of there, she was probably the happiest person in whole Los Santos. No more of those goddamn white walls and sterile rooms, she thought to herself as she left the building, quickly realising the day was unusually beautiful or she simply missed the fresh air and the feeling of sun rays on her face.

Soon, she was on her way home, to the small apartment in Hawick. She entered her place and tossed her bag on the wooden floor in the corridor.

“Home sweet home,” she murmured to herself, closing the door behind her.

Then, she directed her steps to the bedroom that was right next to the bathroom, in front of the kitchen. She did not have much space in her apartment, but she was not complaining. She loved how cosy it was and also, she did not need a bigger place just for herself.

She laid down on her king-size bed that was taking almost all space of her bedroom and placed her phone on the nightstand. She closed her eyes and finally let herself rest in a place where she was feeling completely safe.

However, her dreams were not tranquil; as soon as she fell asleep the memories of the evening when she got shot started coming back. The most terrifying was how real they felt - like she was living through this memory over and over again. She remembered every detail of that night till the moment she felt a sharp pain in her leg, which made it impossible for her to remember what happened next. All she could recall was the pain; the enormous one that grew with every passing second and the bloodstain on her jeans that kept getting larger.

She was sure that she was all alone there, so how was it possible someone called the ambulance for her? How did he find her there? Whoever helped her, what was he doing there in the first place?

Phoebe woke up all sweaty, her breath uneven and she reached out to her left thigh, making sure it was just a dream; a nightmare, but still just a dream. The bandage was in its place and she did not feel much pain anymore. It was all over, it was just her head playing with her.

As she was lying on her bed, trying her best to can down, her phone vibrated on the nightstand. She reached out for it and realised she got a text.

Hey, I hope you didn’t forget about our coffee? M."

She smirked at the screen and began typing.

Of course not. Actually, I was wondering whether you have some time today?

Bold of you, Phoebe. Was it not in his gesture to suggest the meeting? Not even a minute later, she got a reply.

"Choose place and time.

Phoebe took a second to think, wondering what would be the best place to meet with someone she had never seen in her life before. After a while, she decided the cafe she was working in was the best possible option - not only she knew people there, but also that place was famous for selling the best coffee in Los Santos. What could go wrong with that choice?

5 pm, Café Redemption. It’s at the corner of Eastbourne and Carcer Way. See you there.

She typed and sent. Then she got off her bed and looked in the mirror on her closet. What was she supposed to wear? Was there any dress code for the first meeting with someone who saved your life? As she was picking up her outfit, her thoughts wandered to the mysterious stranger she was about to meet. How old is he? What does he look like? Why did he decide to help her? Many questions were going through her mind and she could not wait till she eventually sees him in a flash. During her stay at the hospital, she was trying to imagine himself, using what she already knew about him - which, unfortunately, was not much. All she knew was that he was a man, pretty self-confident and cocky, but at the same time polite and charming. The flowers he sent her were beautiful and it was a nice gesture that definitely made the time she spent there a little bit better.

After thirty minutes of looking at her clothes, Phoebe picked a simple white v-neck t-shirt and blue jeans. Classy solutions are the best solutions, she thought to herself, sitting down and putting on her white sneakers in the corridor. She grabbed her small, black bag and hung it over her arm then made a messy ponytail out of her dark brown mid-length hair. To make her look complete, she put the brown aviators on the top of her head and left the apartment, realising it she wouldn’t hurry, she would definitely be late.


About an hour later, Phoebe managed to get to Coffee Redemption five minutes before time, gasping for air as, after a week of lying in bed, even a quick walk was an effort for her. She fixed her hair and sat by one of the tables outside of the cafe and waited for a stranger.

She looked around, realising many people were walking on the street, but apparently, none of them was the person she was waiting for. So, she kept waiting, her fingers tapping the tabletop nervously and her eyes were constantly peeking at the phone she was holding in her left hand.

What if he would not come? What if he changed his mind and decided he did not want to meet her?

She began overthinking this whole situation and even though she knew it was irrational, she could not stop, getting more and more anxious with every passing second.

“Relax,” she said to herself quietly and sighed, “there’s no reason he wouldn’t come...”

“Exactly,” a deep man’s voice spoke behind her back, “I have no reason to ditch you.”

Phoebe turned around rapidly to look at the stranger and when she did, she saw a tall, well-built man, probably in his forties, black hair, dressed up in a burgundy polo shirt, dark trousers and shoes. He passed her by and she smelled his musk cologne; he smiled at her lightly, noticing she was eyeing him from the top to bottom and did the same, looking carefully at the younger woman.

“Good to see you’re feeling better,” he marked, holding out his hand. “I’m Michael. Michael de Santa,” he introduced himself.

“Phoebe Harris,” she said, shaking his hand. “Pleasure to finally meet you. A man who saved my life.”

He sent her another smile, a bright one, and joined her at the table. For a moment they were sitting in awkward silence and she used this moment to get a closer look on him. The first thing that brought her attention was his eyes, blue as the ocean and Phoebe could swear, she had never seen such specific eye colour before. Then, there was his charming smile and the way he bit his bottom lip as she caught him staring at her for (probably) way too long. He was also older than her; she could not tell exactly how old he was, but it did not really matter for her. When she saw him, she immediately felt this weird sting in her heart, but she brushed off this feeling quickly, finding it also inadequate to the whole situation, considering what she saw next.

The wedding ring on his finger.

He was married, but somehow, Phoebe was not surprised. It would be weird if a man like him did not have a wife.

“How’s your leg?” Michael asked out of sudden. “You look much better since the last time I saw you.”

Was this a compliment or statement of a fact? Phoebe thought, but soon she realised she had not time to think about it now.

“It’s fine,” she replied, sending him a shy smile. “Thanks for asking.”

“You’re very welcome,” he replied. “So, what’s it gonna be? Coffee, tea or maybe you changed your mind and want a drink?”

“Coffee,” Phoebe responded, “I’m so stuffed with painkillers, alcohol would not be the wisest idea today.”

“Black or white?”

“Whatever you choose,” she told him and dared to wink at him playfully.

Michael seemed to like what just she did and chuckled in response. “Alright, gorgeous. I’m gonna be right back.”

Phoebe watched him getting up and walking inside to get them coffees. She took a deep breath, knowing she was stressing way too much over a casual meeting; there was no need to panic. All she needed to do was to act natural and be the best possible version of herself.

Her phone vibrated when she received a new message. This one was from Amy.

How is it going? How is this mysterious man who saved you from bleeding out? Details, please.

Of course, Amy could not wait until her friend would come home; for a second Phoebe wondered why she even texted her friend in the first place, knowing she would end up getting bombarded by texts until she eventually would reply.

It’s fine.

Phoebe typed and sent.

Just fine?

The answer was instant.

Alright, more than fine. :)

She managed to send her reply to Amy when Michael came back, holding two cups of coffee in his hands. He placed one in front of Phoebe and the second one he was still holding as he sat down on the metal chair.

“Was that your boyfriend?” he asked as she put her phone down on the table. “I hope he ain’t mad about this whole thing.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Phoebe smirked, moving the cup closer to her. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Michael clearly did not expect such an answer from her.

“What about your wife?” she decided it was the perfect moment to ask about the wedding ring on his finger. “Isn’t she jealous you’re saving and meeting with another woman?”

He remained silent, thinking of an answer.

“The wedding ring, huh? You’re perceptive, but no, she isn’t. At least she shouldn’t be because she was the one who wanted me to sign the divorce papers.”

This time it was Phoebe who was caught off guard, realising she had misjudged him too soon. However, there was still a matter that was bothering her. “Then why are you still wearing it?” she pointed at his left hand.

“I guess it’s a habit,” he admitted and took a sip of his coffee. “I think I’m still waiting for a good moment to take it off.”

“I see,” she said and grunted. “So, changing the subject, I have to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“What were you doing back there? I mean, the night someone shot me...”

“I was driving by when I saw what happened,” he had replied before she finished. “How could I not help you? I mean, it’s kinda natural thing to do, right? I see someone who needs help, so I help them. Well, it might not be obvious when you look at me, but I’m really trying to be a good man.”

“Do you always leave flowers for that person?” Phoebe smirked. “I’m just curious.”

“No,” he shook his head and a short, deep laugh escaped his mouth. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever left flowers for.”

“The first? What about your ex-wife?”

“She doesn’t really like flowers,” he replied shortly. “I... I hope you do like them, though.”

“Yeah, I do,” she told him and he smiled at her warmly.

Phoebe returned the smile and looked down, trying to hide her pink cheeks, but still, she felt his sight on her. Michael, on the other hand, could not help but look at her, finding it pretty adorable she blushed.

“The flowers you left for me were beautiful,” she admitted after a moment, her eyes coming back to him. “Thank you, again, Michael.”

He felt this fuzzy feeling in his chest when she spoke his name, but he quickly brushed it off, trying to focus on what she was saying next: “Would it be extremely weird if I asked you to tell me more about yourself?”

“Not at all.” He shook his head. “I was just about to ask you to do the same.”

“Well, I’m not someone particularly interesting,” Phoebe began, deciding that in this case, she would tell him about herself first. “I moved here not so long ago, about three months ago?” she pondered. “I was running from troubles, my past and I thought I left them all behind me, but hey, from the frying pan to the fire, I ended up with a hole in my thigh.”

“It could happen to anyone here. Los Santos... You’ll have to get used to it,” Michael responded.

“Get used to getting shot?” she puffed, “and I thought Sandy Shores was crappy.”

“It ain’t much better here,” he told her, “the same crap, but more civilized.”

They both laughed at his remark and out of sudden, the atmosphere between them became less tense. Michael changed his position to the more comfortable one while Phoebe took another sip of her coffee. It seemed as if they began to feel good in each other’s presence, so Michael decided to ask her another question.

“So, you come from Sandy Shores?” he asked. “You surely don’t look as if you come from there.”

“Yeah, appearances are deceptive” she replied, smiling lightly, “but I guess it’s safe to say I do.” She shrugged. “What about you? How long have you been living in Los Santos?”

“Um, almost ten years,” he responded after a moment of thinking.

“It can’t be this bad here then,” she stated. “If it was, you wouldn’t have lasted ten years here.”

“This city is a fucking hell sometimes,” Michael slowly shook his head then chuckled, “but mostly, it’s not that bad. You will soon get used to endless traffics, gangsters, shootings...”

“Yeah, stop right there,” Phoebe told him. “I’d like to think I’ve already run out of bad luck, okay?”

“Okay, okay” he agreed. “No more talking about bad things.”

They found themselves sitting in silence again, exchanging glances from time to time and smiling shyly while they caught each other staring. Even though they were not talking for a while, the silence was not that awkward as in the beginning or at least, it was not overwhelming anymore.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Michael asked, breaking the silence again.

“Actually, I’m working here,” she nodded towards the doors of Café Redemption. “Told you I’m no one interesting.”

“Well, you’re pretty interesting for me,” he admitted. “Why here?”

“I don’t know, to be honest,” she explained. “I don’t find making coffee really exciting, but when I moved here I needed money. Here, it’s not that bad and a wage is fine too. You know, I could also become a stripper as my friend, but I don’t really feel this need to get undressed in front of random men.”

“Fair enough.”

“What about you?”

“Me? It’s complicated,” he grunted. “The last time I checked I was an aspiring movie producer, but it didn’t go as well as I planned.”

“A movie producer?” Phoebe repeated. “It sounds great. I love watching movies, especially old ones.”

“You do?” Michael asked and his eyes widened in curiosity. “Yeah,” she nodded. “Who doesn’t?”

He chuckled in response, pleased by the answer she had given him. “But you know what? The film industry is shit. This whole Vinewood thing? It consumes you. It consumes you to the point when you don’t know who you’re anymore and began to question why you started doing it in the first place.”

“Well, no one said being a movie producer is easy,” Phoebe pointed and her phone beeped. She glanced at it quickly, realising Amy texted her again, but instead of reading what she wrote, she grabbed her phone and turned it down. “Sorry...”

“You sure it’s nothing important?” Michael asked and his phone began to ring. He laughed, putting it out the pocket of his trousers, but his face went serious the moment he saw who was calling. He murmured ‘excuse me’ to Phoebe and then answered the phone. “Hey, sugar... What’s going on? What? Where are you?”

Phoebe looked at him confused, but he calmed her down with a gesture of his hand, showing he got everything under control.

“Stay where you’re, okay? I’m on my way,” he said then hang up.

“Was that your girlfriend?” Phoebe could not help, but ask a question similar to the one Michael had asked her earlier.

“Worse,” he replied, “it’s my daughter.” He put his phone back to his pocket. “Sadly, I have to leave you, because she got herself into trouble again and now the daddy’s needed.”

“Sure,” she said in return, “go and save your little girl.”

“Ah, she ain’t that little anymore,” he laughed and got off the chair. “Listen, I... It was great to meet you and I won’t hide that I’d love to see you again,” his left hand wandered to his neck and he brushed the back of it, looking down and searching for the right words. “I-um... There’s a party at my place tomorrow, you know, there will be some famous people and good stuff. If you’d like to come that would be great. You can also bring a friend of yours with you.”

“I’ll think about it,” she replied in an evasive way, even though she would love to say sure.

“Great,” he grinned and nodded at her, “I’ll text you the address.”

Phoebe had returned the smile and watched him leave before she checked on her phone. Amy texted her four times within two minutes and it seemed urgent, so immediately, Phoebe started reading what she wrote in the messages.

Scott dumped me.

Alright, the first one was short.

How could he do that? I was considering quitting my job in Vanilla Unicorn for him. What a douche. I hate him.

The second one was a little bit longer and gave her a clue what her friend was going through.

I know you’re on a date, but HE dumped ME. Can you imagine that? This prick wasn’t worth a minute of my time.

Phoebe stood up and read the latest text Amy sent to her.

I need you, Pheebs. I need you before I will break down completely.

Phoebe rolled up her eyes and shook her head slowly, already having an ideal solution for her friend - a party Michael invited her to. She just had to convince her to come with her, which did not seem problematic, considering Amy loved partying (and hopefully she would find this idea the best way to forget about the guy who just broke her heart).

She texted back “I’m on my way” and with a positive mindset, she headed home, already could not wait for tomorrow’s night.

Chapter 3: Rockford Hills

Chapter Text

“Phoebe,” Amy said as she walked outside of the bathroom the next day, dressed in one of her friend’s dresses. “How do I look?” She turned around to show her friend the whole look. The dress she was wearing was a little bit loose but beautiful as it shone in the late afternoon light that came through the big window of Phoebe’s bedroom.

“Like a million dollar girl,” Phoebe replied, laying on her bed. “This dress is so shiny, I love it.”

“Me too,” her friend agreed and put on her heels. “It’s perfect,” she stated and looked into the mirror. “What about you? What are you gonna wear since I stole the best dress of yours?”

“Well, I think I’ll go with this short simple black dress of mine, the one without straps. Remember it?”

“I think so,” Amy replied, giving her friend a look. “Come on, sleeping beauty, we don’t have that much time before the party. Get dressed already.”

“Yes, mom,” Phoebe joked and got off the bed reluctantly. She approached her closet and began searching for a dress inside of it, finding it after a moment. “I got it.”

She walked out of her bedroom and got her clothes changed in the bathroom quickly, then she began applying some makeup on her face. She put some mascara on her natural long lashes and some powder on her flawless ivory skin; she has never bothered with any skin problems, so she never had a need to put much cosmetics on her face. The final touch was straightening her frizzy hair, so her look was way more elegant and classy.

“Should I paint my lips red?” Phoebe stuck her head out of the bathroom.

“Depends,” the other girl chuckled, brushing her long blonde hair. “How much you want to tease him?”

“Hmm, I see,” Phoebe replied shortly, understanding the allusion hidden behind Amy’s question and then began applying the red rouge on her lips. “Amy? I know you told me you don’t want to talk about Scott or anything related to him, but... But how are you doing?”

“Considering you’re taking me with you to a party, I’d say great,” she replied from the other room. “Just think how many celebrities will be there, I’m sure I’ll find someone to get my mind off that prick.”

“If you want to talk...”

“I don’t, Pheebs,” Amy interrupted her, “I had a moment of weakness when I texted you yesterday, but I’m alright now,” she paused. “At least, I think I am and I will definitely be when I meet another hot guy.”

Phoebe huffed and shook her head slowly, making a final touch on her lips. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror and when she decided she was ready to go, she left the bathroom, joining Amy back in the bedroom.

“You look hot,” Amy noted as Phoebe grabbed a phone from her bed and put it inside the black purse. “We are both looking great.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I hope someone notices it.

“I’m sure someone will,” Amy winked at her and patted her arm as she walked to her. “If he won’t, he’s a fool.”

Phoebe chuckled in response, trying not to show her friend she was getting nervous. It’s just a casual party, no big deal, she thought to herself as they walked out of her apartment. The sun has just begun setting down and enlighten the city with warm orange colours, making the cityscape even prettier. Phoebe took a quick look at it and then ran down the stairs, carefully, as the heels she was wearing were not the most comfortable shoes she has ever worn and then, she joined her friend in the cab.


They arrived at Rockford Hills after ten minutes and to their surprise, the party that Michael was throwing out was already on. They thought that they would be one of the firsts to arrive, but clearly, they must have mistaken the hours and probably the place because as it turned out, it was a mansion, not an average house that Phoebe thought an aspiring movie producer would live in.

“Why didn’t you tell me he lives in a goddamn mansion?” Amy asked as you entered on his estate. “It’s so huge,” she kept talking, “he even got a goddamn tennis court in the back!”

Phoebe did not reply, looking around and searching for Michael in the groups of people she was passing by. Somehow, she could not wait until she would see him again, this time in a completely different situation, but she did not want to admit this fact, even to herself. The girls walked inside the mansion and the music was playing so loud, they could barely hear their thoughts. The place was crowded, but as they moved forward there were fewer people and eventually, they reached the kitchen.

What a beautiful house, Phoebe thought to herself, watching the interiors that were all made in Spanish Renaissance style. Why would anyone throw a party in such a beautiful house? she pondered, but before she could think more about it, Amy nudged her, bringing her attention.

“What?” Phoebe asked, confused.

“I think I see your man,” she told her. “I’m not sure whether you want to see that, though,” she stated and pointed her head in his direction.

Phoebe turned her head and saw Michael sitting on the white leathered couch with some random girl on his lap. They were talking about something and she laughed at every word he said to her. Phoebe froze and watched this scene, clenching her fists and digging her nails into inner sides of her hands. For a second she pondered why was she even mad and quickly realised that apparently, she was hoping for too much, assuming she was the only girl she was seeing. Was it another habit of him to save random girls and take them out after?

“Phoebe?” Amy’s voice rang in her ears. “What was his name again?”

“De Santa,” Phoebe replied automatically without moving her sight away from him. “Michael de Santa.”

“Oh, I knew I’ve heard this name before, but I wasn’t sure...” she said to Phoebe, placing a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I think I've seen him in Vanilla Unicorn a few times before.”

“Seriously?" The girl hissed and brushed Amy’s hand off her shoulder. "You forgot to mention it earlier."

“I’m just saying...” Amy wanted to explain what she meant, but Phoebe was not listening to her anymore. “Phoebe!”

However, Phoebe was not listening to Amy anymore. She marched away, getting through the crowd and grabbing a glass of whiskey on her way outside. She used the back doors to leave and leaned her back against the wall right next to it. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. I’m a fool , she thought to herself, downing at once all that was in the glass. The whiskey was strong, so she grimaced at the taste of it. It also seemed to ease her anger, so she grabbed another one from the waiter who has just passed her by with a tray of drinks.

“Smile for the camera!” She heard someone shouting at her a moment later. She raised her eyes to look at the young man with a big camera in his hand; his brown bangs were sticking out from under his black cap and Phoebe quickly found out how insistent he was. “I never get enough photos of pretty girls like you. Are you a new celeb here in LS? I doubt I’ve seen you before,” he kept talking. “I’m sure I would remember those pretty dark eyes...”

“Fuck off, paparazzo,” Phoebe muttered and downed another glass of whiskey. “I’m here as a guest, not anyone famous and I’m not in the mood for dealing with you.”

“I can see that,” he nodded at the empty glass. “What’s your name? I’m Beverly.”

“Phoebe,” the girl replied, looking out for the next drink. 

“Phoebe,” he repeated. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing, I... The night turned out shitty for me before it even started,” she admitted and exchanged her empty glass for a full one, sending waiter another grateful smile. “Why do you even ask? I’m not anyone worth your attention, so get lost or something.”

“I’ve been watching you for five minutes and you already downed three drinks,” he pointed. “You’re gonna be wasted in an hour or less if you keep this pace,” he paused, watching his companion already having another drink. “Are you here with someone...”

“My friend,” she had replied before he could finish his question. "She’s somewhere inside, probably banging with the first guy she saw.”

“Oh-uh, you really don’t have the best mood,” Beverly stated then put his camera back to the bag. "Listen, I’m gonna get you another drink, alright? Just... Just don’t go anywhere.”

“Sure,” she shrugged and watched her newly met friend disappearing inside the mansion. “I’ve got nowhere to go, anyway.”

While Phoebe was waiting for Beverly's return, she could not stop thinking of Michael and that girl who was sitting on his laps back then. This thought infuriated her, even though she knew that she had no actual reason to be mad at him. She just met him. It was her fault she had her hopes set too high and thought she was special to him just because he had saved her life. It was pathetic of her to believe a guy like him did not have any other girl apart from her and what was worse, at first, she was naive enough to think it was true. Flowers, coffee, texts... It all fooled her, but not as much as she fooled herself, thinking this time anything would be different.

“I’m back,” Beverly said and handed her a glass of whiskey. "You can tell me what exactly happened. It will be easier for you this way.”

“Thanks,” Phoebe smiled gently at him and took a sip of her drink. “Long story short, I came here for someone who apparently doesn’t give a shit about me,” she shrugged and shook her head slowly. “God, I’m an idiot...”

“You’re not an idiot,” her companion spoke and his words sounded as if he meant them, “Hey, cheer up. The night is still young and it can be fun.”

“You think so?” she asked then peered over her arm, so she could see what was going on inside. To her surprise, Michael was no longer sitting on the couch and she could not find him anywhere in the room. “Anyway, how’s work?” Phoebe nodded at Beverly’s bag. “Any good pics?”

“You bet,” the man laughed and raised his glass. "Well, I won’t take much more of your time. A quick toast and I gotta run. To the good night,” he stated. They clicked their glasses and downed their drinks. She waved him goodbye, feeling the alcohol spreading in her system; suddenly it was hard for her to feel anger as it was replaced by some weird, but still pleasant feeling. The alcohol was working, making her unable to feel anything she did not want to.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Phoebe heard a familiar voice coming from behind her then felt a touch of big man’s hands being placed on her waist. “You look stunning in that dress.”

“And you’re drunk, Michael,” she told him, but did not stop him from touching her. “Where’s that girl of yours?” she asked, tilting her head back until she leaned it against his shoulder.

“What girl?” he seemed surprised.

“The one that was sitting on your lap, laughing at everything you said and looking at you as if she couldn’t wait for you to finally fuck her,” Phoebe explained. “Well, at least it looked like she couldn't.”

“Wait, it wasn’t what it looked like...” “Maybe, but I don't want to hear your excuse."

“Phoebe...” Michael said when she brushed his hands off her and faced him. “It’s not what you think it is, okay?” He was watching her dark eyes staring at him and at that moment, he could not focus on anything else, but how his urge to kiss this red lips of hers.

“Yeah, men always say so,” she snorted. “It’s not what you think it is, of course, because women are... b-blind,” she stammered and out of sudden, she felt dizzy.

She wanted to walk away from him, but the world around her started spinning and if it was not for Michael she would definitely collapse, feeling her legs trembling uncontrollably under her weight. Then, she felt tired and her vision was slowly becoming blurred.

“Hey, hey, Phoebe,” Michael said, holding her slim body in his arms. “Phoebe?” he tried to bring her attention to him, but she was literally slipping out of his hands. “What were you drinking?”

“W-whiskey,” she mumbled. “S-something is wrong, M-Mike...”

“Phoebe,” he seemed to sober up within seconds. “Fuck, Phoebe, don’t fall asleep... Didn’t you come here with a friend? Where’s she?”

“A-Amy? Probably with some dude,” Phoebe replied, using all her strength to focus, “I don’t want... I don’t want to see her, I just want... I just want to sleep.”

“Fuck,” Michael hissed when she closed her eyes and it was harder for him to keep her standing. Not waiting long, he lifted her then carried to the only place he could think of - his bedroom upstairs. As he walked with her in his arms, no one seemed to care; everyone was already too drunk or drugged to care what was going on around them.

It was quieter upstairs and once he reached his bedroom, he carefully placed her on his bed. Her black dress has rolled up sightly, showing off her bandaged left thigh. Michael had been staring at her for a while when he sat next to her, at the edge of the bed. She is beautiful, he thought to himself, caressing her forearm with his fingertips. He took off her heels and put aside her purse, hearing the sound of vibrating phone inside of it. Even though he knew he should not have done it, he pulled it out and saw Phoebe’s friend calling her. When she stopped, a bunch of notifications popped on the screen and he read the messages from her.

I’m sorry, alright? I should've told you about Michael earlier."

Pheebs, where are you? I’m leaving with Steven. Hope you’re having fun too.

Let me know you’re okay. You don’t have to forgive me, just let me know you’re fine.

Phoebe?”

Michael puffed and unlocked Phoebe’s phone just to reply “I’m okay. Don't worry.” then put it on the nightstand as the girl groaned and turned to the side. Everything started to come together at that moment after he read the messages from her friend, who turned out to be the reason why Phoebe was so angry at him and did not even come and say ‘hi’ when she and her friend arrived at the party. This was why she was drinking this much, but who the hell drugged her? Michael pondered. She was lying unconscious beside him with the strands of hair all over her face; he brushed them away gently, tucking them behind her ear.

He lifted her gently and pulled the quilt from under her, covering her with it once he laid her down again. He looked at her once more, wondering what exactly was he doing. It was not like him to care about anyone, especially a girl he barely knew, but she was... different. It might have been the most cliche explanation for his actions, but there was something about her he could not explain but it made him feel all those things he should not have felt and even though he knew it was not rational, he did not want all these feelings to disappear.

It was good to feel something else than anger, fury or disappointment.

So, after staring at her for a while, he stood up and left the room, quietly closing the doors behind him. Then, he walked downstairs to announce the party was over.


Phoebe woke up in the night, feeling a throbbing pain in her head. She did not know where she was; she looked around the room, realising she was not alone. She turned her head to the right and, in the weak light of bedside lamp, she saw Michael sleeping next to her, but he kept his distance and was fully clothed. She began wondering was it even comfortable for him to sleep in a white shirt and dark blue suit trousers, but then the more important question came to her head: what happened to her?

She tried to focus and recall the last memory she had. She remembered how mean she had been to Michael before everything became blurry and it was hard for her to stand without his help... Then, nothing. Blank space as if someone erased this piece of her memory. She was lying down for a while, staring at the ceiling and thinking what was the reason she felt this way and out of sudden, she knew.

The drink from Beverly.

After she had drunk it, everything went down. She should have known better and not take anything from the guy she just met, but at that moment, she simply wanted to get wasted and forget about Michael. He was just a stranger who had saved her life before he even got to know her. He cared. When he helped her for the first time, he did not want anything in return or at least that was what Phoebe was telling herself. Maybe that was the reason why it was so easy for her to feel affection to the guy who was peacefully sleeping by her right side?

She turned to the side and gently touched his arm, stroking it and feeling the soft material of his shirt. He purred quietly and the corner of his mouth moved, forming a smirk on his face. At that moment she knew he was not sleeping at all and withdrew her hand, thinking she crossed the line and should not have touched him at all.

“It’s fine,” Michael murmured, but his eyes were still closed.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have--"

“No need to apologize,” he said and opened up his eyes slightly. “How are you?”

“My head is killing me, but beside it, I think I’m okay,” Phoebe replied quietly. “What happened? I... How...”

"My guess is someone drugged your drink,” he explained. “I thought it would better if you had someone to look after you since your friend basically ditched you,” he added.

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled gently at her. “Try to get some more sleep, alright?"

“What about you?” Phoebe asked in a soft tone.

“What about me?" Michael smirked. “I don't sleep much, anyway.”

“Why? What is keeping you awake?"

“It would be better to ask what isn’t."

“So what’s on your mind now?” she specified then turned onto her back and propped on her elbows.

“You,” he said, watching her reaction carefully.

"Me?" she questioned and could not hold back a smile.

"Yes. Though I was hoping this night would end up differently." He smirked and Phoebe's cheeks reddened. "I'll go and sleep on the couch,” he added and was about to get up when he felt her hand on his.

“There’s no need for you to sleep on the couch,” she blurted. “I mean... I feel safe when you're near me.”

He could not say no to her. He did not want to say no, so he obediently laid down next to her again. There was a moment of silence between them, only interrupted by the sounds of their heavy breaths. Michael’s right hand wandered to the collar of his shirt and unbuttoned the first two buttons while his left hand was still resting along his body.

Phoebe could feel the throbbing pain spreading in her head and maybe that was the reason she was not thinking clearly when her right hand instinctively reached out for Michael’s left then squeezed it gently, letting the tips of her fingers brush the inner side of it.

Michael was surprised with a new sensation she was providing him with. It had been a while since anyone held his hand. He smirked under his breath and tangled his fingers with hers, softly brushing his thumb against her forefinger.

None of them said another word and soon they both fell asleep, holding each other’s hands.

Chapter 4: What Happens In The Dark Comes Out In The Light

Chapter Text

The morning light came through the window and enlightened Michael’s bedroom, making him open his eyes reluctantly. He blinked owlishly as it was still early and he did not want to wake up, not yet at least, hearing Phoebe’s breathing quietly by his side and feeling the warmth of her body nestled up against his. He knew she did not do it on purpose, but still enjoyed this moment; the moment he could share with her, even though if it was not exactly as he had planned.

He invited her over to his party because he wanted to spend some alone time with her; there was no point in hiding the obvious. She must have known what he was planning, otherwise, she would not have dressed like this. Provocative, to say at least. Her short black dress was basically screaming 'rip me off ’ or maybe it was only Michael’s imagination playing tricks on him. Either way, he found Phoebe truly stunning and the fact she seemed to like him encouraged him to take the next step. Taking this step also meant making an effort, which was not in his style, but so was not being in the interest of such a beautiful girl. Maybe he still had his chance or at least, that what was he wanted to believe in.

For a long time, he used to believe any other woman except Amanda would not lay her eyes on him. His ex-wife made him believe that the way he was living was enough for any other woman to walk away from him. She also claimed that she was the only one that could stand it, but in the end, she walked away from him, too. That was the reason he preferred hooking up with prostitutes - they never asked any questions and the work was always done. However, it was not enough. It has never been enough and deep inside he knew that. It was just a replacement, something to drown out the voice that kept saying him that no one would ever care for him; no one would ever love him, because he was not worthy of being loved. But what if the voice in his head, the voice that sounded exactly like Amanda’s, was wrong? What if he was worth all these things he had always thought he wasn’t? Maybe if he tried hard enough, he would deserve the feeling of being loved?

He looked at the woman whose head was resting on his left arm - Phoebe did not know the things Amanda did. He was not a robber in Phoebe's eyes nor old, greedy prick. In her eyes, he had a chance to be someone better than that. He had a chance to prove he was better. She saw him as her saviour, no one else.

Michael shuddered when out of sudden Phoebe muttered something under her breath quietly then moved her left hand on his chest. He caressed the top of it, feeling her soft skin under his rough fingertips. Even though she was lying by him fully clothed, he found this moment extremely intimate; she was so vulnerable, so innocent and fragile. She let herself drift away in her sleep, showing she trusted him. She trusted him enough to know, he would not hurt her or at least, she hoped he would not.

He craved for this kind of intimacy. He wanted to be with someone, not only physically because he has always had enough of that. He wanted to be with someone like her - the woman who did not judge him right away, even though she could have. When he thought of the girl he was making out with last night, he could not even recall her name. He did not care - that girl did not matter for him, anyway.

The one that did, for reasons unknown to him yet, was still sleeping tightly nestled up against him.

Michael did not know how long he has been lying like that with her, thinking how pretty she was and how lucky he was that he decided to come to his party. He was also hoping he had not screwed everything up last night.

She moved again, but this time she opened up her dark eyes slowly and looked at him hazily, sending him a gentle smile.

“Hey, you,” she said softly. "Up so early?"

“Told you I have sleeping issues,” Michael replied, returning the smile. “How do you feel?”

“Pretty okay,” she told him and at the same time, she realised what was the position they were lying in. She withdrew her hand and backed off slowly while the blush appeared on her cheeks.

“Sorry about that. I should’ve warned you I like to cuddle up when I sleep,” she apologised when she sat up, trying to gather her thoughts.

“It’s okay,” he told her and a small chuckle escaped his mouth as he also sat up. “Actually, I could get used to that.”

“Is that so?” She cocked her brow.

“Yeah,” he agreed. "It was nice to have you next to me at night."

“I’m glad I could make your night better," she paused. “Last night wasn’t precisely the way I imagined it to be. I wasn’t expecting a random guy drug my drink and pass out in front of you."

“It ain’t your fault,” he said, hoping his words would sound comforting. “It could happen to anyone, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Phoebe nodded, “but why things like that have to always happen to me? Why do I always have to meet bad guys on my way?”

“Oh, so you consider me the bad guy, too?” Michael asked, curious.

“Well, you tell me.” She tilted her head to the side.

“Are you one?” “It depends on whether you want me to be one," he replied.

“Good or bad, it doesn’t matter as long as you have some decency in yourself, it’s fine,” she said. “You definitely have some of it in yourself. When I look at you I see a man who saved my life. I see someone rather good than bad."

He sent her a warm smile. “I just did what seemed right for me. It’s not a big deal...”

“Thank you, Michael,” she interrupted him, “because you didn’t have to do any of these things, but you did. It’s a big deal for me and I wish things went differently last night. It would have saved you much trouble.” She glanced at him and then her eyes went back down. “Listen... Would it be too much if I asked you for a ride? I could really use a shower. I feel and look like a walking mess.”

She looked up at him, her mascara slightly smudged under her tired eyes, but it did not matter for Michael, who still found her beautiful.

“It wouldn’t,” he replied after a moment. “We didn’t have much time to talk yesterday, though. Maybe you would consider staying here for the day,” he spoke and seeing she began thinking about his proposal, he added: “I also have a bathroom and a few spare clothes if you need them.”

“I don’t want to be a burden for you,” she admitted, “or cause you any more trouble." “You’re not a burden,” he told her. “Come on, say yes.”

“Okay,” she tried to sound casual, so he would not know she that deep inside she was excited to spend some more time with him.

“Great,” Michael replied and got up from the bed. “Make yourself at home then.”

“And where are you going?” she asked, watching him grabbing his phone from the shelf and walking towards the door.

“I thought you could use some privacy. Unless you want me to join you in the shower?” he teased.

“No, I think I’m good,” she replied, feeling her cheeks burn. She was rarely this intimidated by anyone’s words even if they had sexual context, but this time, somehow, it was different. “That's a tempting offer, though."

He smirked at her then left his bedroom. She could hear his steps as he ran down the stairs while she laid down again, trying to gather her thoughts. What a night, she thought to herself and reached out for her phone that Michael had put down on the night shelf earlier. There were many missed calls and unread texts from Amy, so she tried to call her back, but sadly, there was no answer. Instead of calling, Phoebe wrote a text in which she apologised her for what happened last night and asked to call back whenever she would be able to. Last night was unfortunate and messy, but it did not mean they were not friends anymore.

After a while, she sat up again, her feet touching the soft, beige carpet. She did not pay attention to it earlier, but everything in Michael’s bedroom seemed so luxurious; after all, he was living in a mansion, so no wonder he spent loads of money on it. However, what was interesting for Phoebe, he did not look like someone who had this much money, not at first glance at least. He seemed so normal to her and maybe that was the reason she could not believe in the life he has been living.

She left the bedroom and directed her steps right to the bathroom, quietly closing the doors behind her. She skipped looking into the mirror and as soon as she took off her dress and unwrapped the bandage from her thigh, she got into the shower, letting the hot water ease the pain in her muscles.

There was a knock at the doors so she quickly finished showering and covered herself with the towel. Her hair was soaking wet as she did not have time to dry it, but she managed to wash what was left of her makeup off her face, so she eventually looked decent.

“It’s me,” Michael spoke loudly from the other side of doors. “I’ve got you some clothes to change and...” The doors opened and he saw her barely covered with the towel. His jaw dropped slightly, but he quickly realised she was also staring at him, smiling shyly as she caught him looking at something he was not supposed to.

“And what?” she asked as he did not speak for a while.

“Some clean bandages,” he finished then cleared his throat. “Speaking of the devil,” he pointed his head at her left thigh where a trickle of blood was running down. “Do you need a hand with that?

“No,” she blurted and her right hand moved down quickly, forgetting she was holding a towel with it. She managed to grab it with the other one, but she definitely looked as if she needed some help, running out of hands to use. “Maybe,” she said and Michael chuckled, seeing her struggling with the towel and the wound at once.

“Alright, stay still,” he ordered, placing the clothes on the countertop and crouching next to her so his eyes were at the level of the wound. He carefully uncovered her thigh and gently put a fresh gauze on the wound. Then, he began wrapping the clean bandage around it while Phoebe was doing her best to keep her intimacies covered and praying, he would not notice how awkward she felt.

“Never a dull moment with you, eh?” Michael said and looked up at her. She did not reply, just kept smiling shyly. When he finished taking care of her, he stood up, bringing his face dangerously close to hers. “Done,” he moved back a little, realising this situation could easily get out of hand and he could do something he would definitely regret later.

“Never,” she replied eventually and took a deep breath, trying to calm down her pounding heart. “Thanks.”

“It’s nothing,” he moved to the doors and when he was one leg outside, he said: “I’ll... I'll be downstairs.”

When the doors closed, she had taken a moment to cool down before she began wiping off her body and hair. Once she was done, she took a glance at the clothes Michael brought her, realising they probably belonged to his daughter. She clearly did not like to wear much as everything was extremely short and even though Phoebe was not the tallest, the denim shorts he brought would barely cover up her bottom.

She sighed, deciding she would stick to her dress. If she was in his daughter’s shoes, she would not want some random woman to wear her clothes. It was kind of him to offer her that, but she wanted to be fair to his daughter. Besides, she felt good in that black dress and what was more important, she noticed the way he looked at her when she was wearing it.

After brushing her still wet hair and making sure there was no makeup left on her face, she left the bathroom, directing her steps to the bedroom again. She grabbed her heels, purse and phone from there and went downstairs, putting her belongings down next to the front door. She walked to the kitchen and the first thing she saw was Michael leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Didn’t you like the clothes I brought you?” He cocked his eyebrow.

“I did, but I figured out they belong to your daughter, so... If I was her, I wouldn’t want anyone else to wear my clothes,” Phoebe explained and sat on the chair by the kitchen island. “Is there something wrong with my dress? Don’t you like it?” she asked. “Is it too short or...”

“It’s perfect,” Michael interrupted her and placed a cup in front of her. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” she admitted and indulged in the smell of morning coffee, “I don’t really like to eat in the morning.”

“Neither do I,” he smiled then downed his coffee, “but if you get hungry, let me know.”

“Sure,” Phoebe responded. “So, what’s her name?”

“Whose name?”

“Your daughter’s,” she specified.

“Tracey,” Michael replied and smiled gently as he spoke her name.

“Pretty,” Phoebe said then took a sip of her coffee. “Daddy’s girl, isn’t she?”

“Not really, but I love her like a crazy, anyway,” he shook his head. “She lives in her own world and does things I don’t really understand, but still...”

“I get it,” she smiled at him warmly, “I mean I can only imagine what you feel. My dad and I were really close, but he didn't understand many of my choices.”

“Were?”

“He passed away a few years ago... Five years. He was the closest person to me and... I just... When he was alive everything was easier.” She sighed and felt tears in her eyes, but she quickly brushed them away. “Damn, this pain never seems to ease. Sorry, I... I rarely talk about him.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” he approached her and wrapped his arms around her. She returned the hug, covering her face in his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

She did not reply but held him tightly, feeling safe and unnaturally calm when he was near her. After a while of hugging with him, she realised she was doing it again; trusting someone she barely knew. Well, barely might have sounded odd, considering this man saved her more times than anyone ever before him, but still, she could not help herself and felt all the things she should not have. It was happening too fast; she could not feel anything deeper than affection for him. She could not let herself get fooled by feelings again. If there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that feelings were deceptive and people often were different than they seemed.

But how to listen to one’s mind when the heart wants what it wants?

She closed her eyes and smelled his cologne mixed with the cigarettes he had smoked last night; this smell was so specific and strong but above all, it was his. So alluring and addictive, she wished she had never had to let him out of her arms.

But it was only her wish and she knew better not to believe in wishes.

“It’s okay,” she whispered and moved away to look at him. “It’s just hard to talk about him, that’s it.”

“If you’ll ever feel a need to talk about him, feel free to talk to me.”

“Thank you,” she said gratefully.

“You’re welcome,” he cleared his throat. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday. I know you saw me with that girl... It wasn’t what it looked like, but you could get the wrong impression of me and... I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise me for,” she replied, shaking her head. “It’s not like we’re together or something, so... Do whatever you like,” she shrugged, but it cost her a lot to act as if she did not care what he was doing. “I behaved like a spoilt child and I’m the one who should be sorry.”

Michael gave her a questioning look and at that particular moment, he was the one who was caught off guard as he did not expect to react this way. He was prepared for her to be mad or jealous, but definitely not... Indifferent about what had happened the night before. What was she playing, he asked himself, realising her reaction was nothing like he expected.

She was not jealous, so did it also mean she did not care for him?

“Would you be mad if we were together?” he blurted, not thinking much of what he was saying.

“I think I would,” she admitted after a while, "and you?"

“I guess,” he shrugged. “I don’t like it when someone else touches what’s mine.”

“What’s yours, huh?” she pondered, getting up on her feet. “Isn’t it a little bit ironic? You wouldn’t like anyone else to touch what’s yours, but you gladly touch what’s someone else’s.”

Got you there, Michael thought to himself, realising he was not so indifferent to her. She tried her best to hide her jealousy from him, but it did not work exactly as she planned; it was hard to act indifferently when she reminded herself of what she had seen yesterday.

She walked to the living room and he followed her, watching her look around the big space they were in. After a bit, Phoebe sat down on the white leathered couch, resting her head against the big yellow pillow. Michael joined her and they had been sitting in the awkward silence for a while before she said:

“This place is huge, Michael. Doesn’t it ever get lonely when you live in such a big house alone?”

“It does,” he replied. “Sometimes it gets lonely here."

“I can imagine,” she told him and turned her head towards the portrait showing two young people; the blonde girl and the boy with brown hair right next to her. “Is that your daughter?”

“Yeah,” Michael nodded, “and my son. Jimmy.” “How old are they?”

“Trace is twenty-two and Jimmy twenty-one,” he said and laughed right after. “Fuck, when I think how old my children are I also realise how old I am."

“Come on,” Phoebe told him, moving closer to him, so she could place a hand on his arm. “Your children are adults, but it doesn't mean you're old.”

He looked at her suspiciously. “How old are you, gorgeous?”

“How old do I look?” she asked him, biting her bottom lip. “Take a guess. I won’t be mad.”

“Hmmm,” Michael hummed and tilted his head to the side. “Twenty-ish?”

“Nope.”

“Older, or younger?”

“Older,” she laughed and brushed back her dark hair.

“Twenty-seven,” he took a guess but she shook her head again.

“Almost. Thirty,” Phoebe told him eventually, “but I’m glad you think I look younger. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Good, cause it was one,” Michael peeked at her and caught her staring. To his surprise, she did not look away this time but kept looking at him with her mouth slightly ajar. He smirked, realising he was thinking again how beautiful she was and how badly he wanted to taste her lips.

He was not the only one.

Out of sudden, let her feelings take control over her actions and did something that she had wanted to do the night before and certainly would do if her plans would not have gone to waste.

She lifted herself and gently moved onto Michael’s lap without facing any kind of resistance from him. On the contrary, he was confused with her actions at first, just to get excited as soon as she straddled him. Her hands cupped his face and thumbs brushed his clean-shaven cheeks. He instinctively rested his hands on her hips, waiting for her to make the next move.

That was how it should have gone last night. The place on his lap was hers, not some other woman she had seen him with.

“I was pissed last night when I saw you with her,” she told him, bringing her face close to his. “I don’t know why. I shouldn’t have felt like that. I barely know you, mystery man, but I can’t stop thinking of you since the moment I saw the beautiful flowers you had left for me back in the hospital. Maybe that was the reason I let myself hope for something more. I thought... For a second I thought I was special."

“You are,” Michael cupped her chin with one hand and wanted to pull her into the kiss, but before their lips could meet, the sound of the doorbell spread through the mansion. Not even a second later the doors opened rapidly and a specific man’s voice reached their ears.

Mikey, you home?”

Phoebe froze, recognizing that voice immediately after she heard it. It could not be possible, she thought to herself. It could not be who she thought it was, it could not...

She moved away from Michael as if she got burned and from what she could see, he was just as confused as she was. Just as she managed to get off his lap, the owner of the voice that had just spread through the mansion appeared in the living room. She could not believe her eyes, thinking for a moment it was all a nightmare she would wake up from soon, but to her misfortune, it was not a nightmare.

It was real.

Trevor.

Phoebe did not expect to ever see him again. She was caught off guard, her eyes filled with fear instantly, so she turned her head away to avoid his sight. Act normal, she thought to herself, but she already could feel her heart pounding in her chest and her hands getting cold.

He entered the room and gave her and Michael a questioning looks while processing this whole situation in his head. The madness was visible in his eyes as he was lurking and smilingly ominously at Phoebe who had instinctively moved closer to Michael.

“Sugar tits,” he mocked, stepping towards them. “Sorry, but I had no idea you were busy-busy. Ain't this doll too pretty for your old ass?” He tilted his head to the side and took another look at Phoebe. “Is it possible we know each other, sugar? I don’t know why, but you seem so fucking familiar to me.”

Phoebe did not reply, but she definitely remembered him from Sandy Shores, so there was a chance he remembered her, too. No, there was no chance... He had to remember her. This man was impossible to forget, even though she would give much to erase him from her memory. She peeked at him, realising he has not even changed that much during all these years. He was still wearing the same dirty grey sweatpants, used-to-be-white t-shirt and brown combat boots.

“I don’t know, is it?” she asked him back, doing her best to make her voice sound as casual as possible.

“Maybe you’re damn familiar to someone else I know.” Trevor shrugged then turned to Michael. “Anyway, I need your help, Mikey and I need it right now.”

“Can’t you see I’m, as you said, busy-busy?” Michael sent him a pissed look.

“Oh, come on,” Trevor interrupted him. “Won’t you help your best friend in need?” He looked at

Phoebe again. “Can I steal him for a moment, doll?”

“Sure. I was about to leave, anyway,” she said then got up from the couch.

“You don’t have to leave, Phoebe.” Michael had reached out for her hand before she could walk away from him.

“Phoebe?” Trevor repeated quietly, but loud enough for her to hear it. She swallowed loudly, hoping he would not connect the facts and just let her go without digging it out. After a short moment that seemed like an eternity for her, he shook his head and murmured: “Nevermind.”

“It’s fine,” she replied to Michael as her hand slipped out of his. “I have some things to take care of.” She sent him a reassuring smile and then walked by Trevor, directing her steps to the hall. She picked up her things, that she had left next to the stairs and was about to leave when Michael stepped out of the living room.

“You sure you don’t want me to give you a ride?” he asked.

“No, thank you. I’m okay,” she responded while she was putting on her heels. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

Before Michael could say anything in return, she had waved him goodbye quickly and disappeared behind the doors of his mansion. For a second, he was wondering whether he should not have run after her and made sure she would get home safely, but then he also reminded himself of his psycho friend who was waiting for him in the living room.

“You alright?” Trevor asked as Michael came back and he saw his not-pleased-at-all face.

“No, I’m not alright, Trevor,” he hissed, grabbing the empty glass from the cabinet and tossing it ahead. The glass was smashed against the floor and Michael sighed heavily, leaning his back against the wall and rubbing his temples. “What do you want?”

“You, my friend, have serious anger issues,” Trevor stated, ignoring his friend’s question. “I’m sorry for ruining the moment with this pretty hooker, but seriously, you should think of getting yourself someone your age.”

”I can't believe you’re the one to tell me a thing like this,” Michael snorted. “Besides, she’s not a hooker,” he added. “She’s a really nice girl.”

“I can’t believe that. Nice girl?” Trevor taunted. “Tell me something about her, like... Where did you meet her?”

“Really?” Michael asked and Trevor nodded. “Um, well... remember the last time we were working together? When we were chasing those crazy folks you messed up with?”

“They messed up with me,” Trevor corrected. “Don’t change the facts.”

“Whatever,” Michael rolled up his eyes. “They opened up a fire, so did we. You continued chasing them, but I pulled over when I realised something was wrong and—”

“Oh my, you’ve always been a soft cunt, Mikey.”

“Can you please stop interrupting me?” Michael glared at his friend. “As it turned out, i accidentally shot her. I don’t even know how it happened. I didn’t mean to shoot her, but I somehow I did and I began having remorse right after. So, I sent her flowers, leaving her my number and she texted me. I didn’t expect that either, but we met and honestly, I couldn’t believe that such a pretty girl wanted to waste her time on me.”

“Ah, it explains a lot. Especially the blood-stained bandage on her thigh,” Trevor marked then got lost in his thoughts, thinking about what Michael had told him. “Wait, so did it all for her because you had remorse?”

“No, of course not...”

“Oh, so you’ve told her you were the one to shoot her?”

“No, but...”

“Fuck me, Mike,” Trevor laughed deeply, “and you say I’m the one who’s fucked up.”

“What was I supposed to tell her?” Michael asked. “I shot you and I’m sorry, it was an accident? Alright, maybe I sent her flowers because I was having remorse, but when we met and we began talking...”

“What? You felt your pants getting tight when she was around?” Trevor said and got up from Michael’s couch.

Michael puffed. “Aren’t you the one who thinks every single girl is the one? Do you remember Madrazo?” Trevor showed him his middle finger in response.

“You want to piss me off?”

“No,” Michael replied. “Just tell me what you want and get out of my place.”

“Just one more thing before that and I’m telling you this because unlike you, I have a heart. If you truly like her, tell her the truth. Break the endless cycle of the lies you’re living in.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Do you want me to do it for you?” “You won’t dare...”

“Try me,” Trevor chuckled and backed off with his hands raised in the gesture of surrender. “I’m giving you a chance to do it yourself. Fuck, Mikey, do the right thing!”

“And why would I do that? To push her away? To make her hate me before she gets to know me?” Michael sounded bitter as he talked.

“You might push her away,” Trevor began, “but if she finds out what you did later, she’ll hate you for it. No wonder why, to be honest. No one likes to live in a fucking lie!”

“Here we go again, huh? You’ll never stop bringing this up?”

“Never,” Trevor agreed. “It’s hard to forget someone who had faked his death, right?”

Michael knew there was no point in continuing this discussion, so he approached the kitchen island and poured himself another glass of whiskey. He glanced at his friend, wondering what the hell he wanted from him this time.

Mentally unstable, gross, scary, but still...

His friend.

The best and the worst he could have ever asked for.

Chapter 5: Hearty Taco

Chapter Text

It had been a few days since Phoebe and Michael saw each other and the lack of contact from him made her feel anxious. She was hoping he was not mad at her after she had left his place when Trevor paid him an unexpected visit. She did not want to risk confrontation with a psychopath she had met before. Besides, if he recognized her, what would she do? It was not the best moment to explain it all to Michael, not right after they almost make out on his couch.

Phoebe also began wondering whether she was not making this whole thing easy for him. She definitely did not want to be anyone's lady for the night, because was not into this kind of thing. She needed more than that and at some point, after many unanswered calls to Michael, she started questioning if he was capable of giving her what she needed.

Maybe she was wrong right about him and he wanted to make her his lady for the night? She was confused and his absence did not help at all.

At least Amy was glad about the fact Michael was gone. After what had happened at the party, she claimed it was a bad idea and it simply could not work. It was not something Phoebe expected to hear from her friend, but at the same time, she knew that Amy wanted best for her, so she did not take her friend's opinion too personal.

Her shift was almost done when her phone rang and the name she desperately wanted to see for days appeared on the screen. Michael. At first, she wanted to answer and tell him how much she missed him but instead, she rejected the call. She put her phone back to her bag and tried to ignore it as it kept vibrating. It took him over a week to call. A few ignored calls were supposed to give him a taste of his own medicine, even though it hurt her more than him.

After an hour, she left Café Redemption and was blinded by the rays of the afternoon sun. It was another hot day in Los Santos and fortunately for her, she was no longer obliged to wear a bandage on her thigh as her wound was healing well, so she could wear a short denim skirt and white top, not risking getting overheated in tight jeans.

“Phoebe, wait up!” Suddenly, she heard a man’s voice calling her from behind. “What’s up, Joe?” Phoebe asked as the man reached her.

Joe was her co-worker and since she started working in the cafe. He has also been trying to flirt with her, but she turned him down every time. The reason was simple - he was not her type, even though many women would call him handsome and it would not be a big surprise. He was tall, well-built, and his dark blonde hair was contrasting with his tanned skin - a perfect boyfriend material, but unfortunately, not for her.

“You left so quickly I didn’t manage to invite you to my party tonight,” he stated and sent the flirtatious smile that made her roll up her eyes at him. “What do you say, Phoebe?”

“Another party? I don’t know, Joe. I’m in the mood, but thanks for the invitation,” she replied.

“I’ll text you the details,” he suggested, “in case you changed your mind." Joe handed her his phone. "Could you give me your number?”

Phoebe looked at him, not being sure whether she wanted to give her number to a guy like him, but then she realized had nothing to lose. She typed her number on his phone and returned it to him, smiling kindly when he took it from her. “Lovely. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I don’t think I’m gonna change my mind, though,” she told him.

“It was worth a try, right?” he winked at her as she walked away. "Hope to see you around!"

Phoebe rolled up her eyes again, wondering how anyone could be that stubborn. She turned him down so many times, but he kept trying to get her to like him as if she did nothing to show him that she was not interested.

She was interested in someone else, but apparently that certain someone was not as interested as she was.

Maybe going to Joe’s party tonight was not as bad as she thought? She would have some good time, maybe she would even stop thinking about Michael for a moment... Maybe. The other option was it would end as bad as the last party and that she definitely wanted to avoid.

“If I remember it good, you said you didn’t have a boyfriend?” She shuddered at another sound of the familiar voice behind her back. “I’ve been calling you for over an hour.” She turned around slowly just to see Michael with his arms crossed on his chest. “Is it so hard to pick up?”

“You tell me,” she snapped at him. “I’ve been trying to reach you for a week. What the hell, Michael?”

“At least I’m not pretending I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You mean Joe?” Phoebe puffed and shook her head slowly. “Don't be ridiculous."

“This guy was literally drooling over you,” Michael pointed and Phoebe could not believe he was making a problem out of it. She did not expect him to be a jealous type, but apparently, she was wrong. Again. “Mister Perfect, eh? But did you notice he was wearing a shirt a size too small?”

“Don't be jealous,” she teased, realizing he really had a problem with seeing you with someone else.

“I’m not jealous,” Michael said firmly, but Phoebe was far from believing him.

“Yeah, of course, you’re not.” She shrugged, not wanting to argue about it with him and Michael pretended he did not hear what she just said. “Where were you? You literally ghosted on me.”

“I’m sorry for that,” he interrupted her. “It’s been a rough week and...” “You didn’t have time to call or send a message?”

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but... I was helping Trevor with one of his... issues,” Michael tried to explain himself, but it was not appealing for Phoebe.

“For over a week, Michael?” She sighed and when he unfolded his arms, she noticed his left hand was wrapped in a bandage. “Oh my god, what happened?” she pointed her head the wound.

“It's nothing,” Michael replied then stepped towards her. “Phoebe, please... I don’t want to argue and I wish I could explain it to you, but trust me, you don't want to know."

“I thought you were mad at me,” she admitted after a while. “I don't usually leave like that, but your Trevor... He scared me off."

“That’s what I thought,” he chuckled. “Trevor has a tendency to do that to people. To scare them off.”

“Yeah,” Phoebe agreed and not being able to hold herself back any longer, she let herself approach and wrap her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "Don't think you're forgiven."

“I don’t,” he replied and wrapped pulled him even closer by her waist. "Do I deserve a second chance?"

"I don't know," she said then pulled away a bit to see his face. "I'm weak," she added. "You do."


Using the fact that Michael had his car parked around the corner, Phoebe suggested to go to her place and eat something for dinner. She was living not so far from the cafe, in Hawick, at the corner of Spanish Avenue, so the ride there was short. They reached her flat on the second floor of the yellow building with a big number 2421 on it and this time, it was Michael who took a moment to look around. Her place was small - there was just one bedroom, a tiny hallway, bathroom and the kitchen. Not that he expected her to live in a mansion, but for the past few years, he got used to living in bigger spaces.

“I know it's not your mansion,” she noted then put away her bag on the floor. “You don’t need to point it out for me.”

“It's cosy,” Michael said and as he walked into the kitchen, he put his car keys on the table. “You definitely had a great view,” he added then looked through the window, seeing the cityscape full of tall buildings. “No annoying neighbours...”

“Well, an old lady is living next doors, so, you know, it wouldn't be wise to throw a party here,” Phoebe said and began preparing the dinner for them. “I can’t complain, though. I really like this place." Michael smiled gently in response and continued looking through the window as he sat down by the table, peeking at his companion from time to time as she began cooking.

“Why didn’t you let me take you out?” he asked out of sudden.

“I just really wanted to eat pasta,” she replied shortly.

“You know we could eat it anywhere in the city?”

“I know,” she chuckled, “but trust me, I make the best pasta in this city.”

“Is that so? I had no idea you were this confident,” Michael said and she turned around to look at him.

“Well, usually I’m not this confident,” Phoebe admitted, “but this pasta is spectacular.”

“I guess we’ll see about that.”

Phoebe snorted and continued dinner’s preparations while Michael let himself look at her, at her slim body and long legs accentuated by the short skirt she was wearing. There were many pretty girls in Michael’s life, but none of them was like her. None of them was cooking for him, not even Amanda. Suddenly, he found himself very hungry, not only for the pasta she was making but for her and it took him much self-control not to stand up and rip that short skirt off her.

Such a tease, he thought to himself as Phoebe bent down, searching for something in the cupboard. As she got up, he looked away instantly and she giggled, putting two plates she was holding away and approached him, standing in between his legs.

“I know you’ve been gawking at me for 5 minutes, so you don’t have to look away,” she teased, placing her hands on his shoulders.

“I wasn’t... Okay, maybe I have,” he admitted, taking her hips in his hands and looking up at her. “I can’t take my eyes off you.”

“Really?” she asked. “Is this because you like me or you simply want to fuck me?” “Where does that question come from, huh?” Michael was caught off guard.

“Just curious,” she replied casually and then, after a moment of thinking she added. “Actually, I... I’ve heard things. Things about you.”

“And what exactly did you hear?” he cocked his brow.

“I’ve heard you like the company of hookers,” Phoebe decided it would be the best if she was straight-forward with him. “You’re also quite famous in Vanilla Unicorn,” she specified. "There’s nothing wrong with that, but I... I don’t do one night stands.”

She looked down when she finished speaking. There was an uncomfortable silence between them as Michael did not know what to reply, angry that his past would never stop reminding him of itself. Every time he wanted to leave it behind, it came back at the worst moment it possibly could.

“It's not like that, Phoebe,” he told her eventually then let a loud sigh. “I know my reputation isn’t good, but I'm trying to be a better man now.” He moved his hands on top of hers and caressed them gently. “Back then I was in a shitty marriage with many problems going around and I...”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” she interrupted him. “I just had to ask." “Alright," Michael replied. "By the way, can you smell that? I think your pasta is burning.”

Phoebe murmured something under her breath and freed herself from his embrace then hurried towards the stove. She palmed her face and sighed heavily, realising that indeed, her dinner was burned and there was no way she was going to serve it to Michael.

She heard him chuckling quietly as he approached her from behind and embraced her, placing his chin on her right shoulder.

“So what do you think about eating out now?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?” she turned her head to him and with the tip of her nose, she brushed his clean-shaven cheek.

“Not really.” He had smiled quickly before he left a kiss on her nose, catching her by surprise and planting a smile on her face too. “Come on, don’t make me ask you twice.”


“How did you know I love tacos?” Phoebe asked him after they had eaten in one of Hearty Taco restaurants on West Mirror Drive and were already heading back to Michael’s car.

It was getting late - the sun was already going down, hiding behind the tall buildings, but they did not seem to care. They both lost the track of time, consumed by their conversation and did not want this evening to end.

“Who doesn’t love tacos?” Michael asked her back. "However, if I'm honest, it was just a lucky guess,” he added. “I’m a bit sad I missed your pasta, though.”

“I can cook it for you again, but you have to promise you will stop distracting me.”

“Distracting you?” he laughed. “What about you distracting me with those pretty long legs of yours, huh? I’m pleased to see them without a bandage. It’s good to see you all safe and sound.”

“I wish I could say the same about you,” she said and took his left hand in hers carefully. “It’s bleeding, Mike.”

“Yeah, it’s hard not to use a hand. Every time I do, the wound opens up,” he pointed as they stopped by his car.

“Don’t you think a doctor should see it and maybe... Stitch it up?” she suggested gently pressing the wound and Michael groaned in pain. “Someone definitely has to see this.”

“No,” Michael hissed. “No doctors, hospitals, needles, nothing.”

“Why?” She could not hide her surprise, rising both of her brows. “It’ll never heal properly if someone doesn’t stitch your hand up,” she told him. “Unless you're afraid of needles?”

“I just don’t like them,” he replied shortly. “Hospitals and doctors either.” “What about nurses?” Phoebe moved in front of him.

“I guess it goes the same with them,” Michael stated.

“What if I stitched your hand?” she questioned.

“Are you a doctor?"

“In theory,” she chuckled. “Some time ago I was attending medical school, but... Many things changed in my life and I never started my residency program. I definitely remember how to stitch someone up, though.” Her hands moved and smoothed the collar of Michael’s light blue shirt. “I promise I'll be gentle."

“Hmmm... Alright.” He agreed after a moment of intense thinking. The vision of her taking care of him was encouraging enough to make him forget about his aversion to needles and pain they caused. “But only if you promise you won't do me a harm.”

“Of course,” she assured him then got inside the car. Michael joined her after a few seconds, sitting in driver’s seat and turning the engine on. “In the meantime, try not to leave much blood on the driver’s wheel,” she joked and he laughed humorlessly in response. “This car must’ve cost a fortune.”

“Wanna change seats?” Michael suggested, but Phoebe knew better than to agree to it.

“I think your man’s pride wouldn’t handle it,” she told him and pointed her on the road. “Let’s go, before you’re gonna bleed out on me.”


“Roll up your sleeve,” Phoebe commanded as she placed her medical equipment on her kitchen table. Among needles, threads and scissors there was also something to clean wounds, but Michael could not tell what as it did not have a label on it. He obediently did what she had told him to then waited for her to come back after she disappeared in the bathroom.

“Okay,” she said and put her phone out of her back pocket, placing it on the table. “Let me have a closer look.”

She took a seat next to him and as Michael held his hand out to her, she slowly began unwrapping the soaked bandage and peeking at him comfortingly from time to time.

“You look pretty in glasses,” he told her as she put the used bandage away. “I didn't think you need to wear them."

“I’m full of surprises,” she chuckled quietly, “and I wear them only if I need to take a closer look at something.”

“You look like a pro,” Michael joked.

“And I look like a pro,” she repeated, “or at least like I knew what I’m doing.” She examined his wound for a while, tilting her head from the left to the right. “So, what happened?”

“Does it matter?" he asked.

“No, I'm just curious,” she replied while she put on a pair of blue nitrile gloves. “I can imagine what happened next. Ouch.”

“Yeah, ouch describes it perfectly,” he pointed and watched her pouring some liquid on the clean gauze. Without any warning, she put it on his wound, making him curse under his breath as the wound began to sting. “Fuck, Phoebe...”

“It’s alright, tough guy,” she shushed him then blew on the cut. “Better?”

“A bit,” he replied and she moved his hand on the table. “Now the nasty part, huh?” “It won’t hurt,” Phoebe assured him. “The worst is already behind you.”

It hurt a little when the needle came through his skin for the first time, but the worse thing was the view. He has never liked needles, so the thought of someone stitching him up while he was conscious was making him really uncomfortable. At some point, halfway there, his hand trembled and he swallowed loudly, closing his eyes slightly.

“Are you alright?” Phoebe murmured, focused on the task.

“Yeah, it’s just... I’m not a big fan of that,” he explained, trying to sound confident.

“I guess no one is,” she chuckled and looked up at him from above his hand the same moment when her phone began ringing on the table. She peeked at it then sighed, realising it was Joe calling her. She forgot about the party he had invited her to and he was probably calling to ask her where she was. “Oh, fuck off,” she rejected the call, but the moment she was about to go back to Michael’s hand, it rang again.

“Boyfriend calling?” Michael joked and received a glare from Phoebe in response. “How many times do I have to tell you I don’t have a boyfriend?” She rolled up her eyes.

“I'm just teasing you. Is this the same guy that was bothering you earlier?” he asked and she confirmed. “Hand me your phone.”

“No... Michael!”

“Trust me." He grabbed her phone. “Hey buddy,” he said when he placed the phone next to his ear. “Phoebe? Why are you so desperately trying to call my girl, eh? Oh, you didn’t know she was seeing someone? Like hell, you didn’t,” Michael chuckled deeply. “So, listen up, pal, cause I’m gonna say it just once. Stop calling her unless you want to get in real trouble. Am I joking? Does 9mm semi-automatic sound like a joke to you? Ah, I thought so. Stay away from her, understood?” He hung up right after he spoke the last words and placed her phone back on the table.

“You didn’t have to do that."

“Yeah, I know, but I didn’t want to you to be bothered by him,” Michael pointed. “If he’s bothering you, he’s bothering me, too.”

Phoebe smiled from ear to ear and looked down, trying to hide the blush that appeared on her cheeks. She focused on finishing stitching the palm of his hand, trying not to think about this warm feeling that has filled her body. She was almost there, two more moves and she would be done, when Michael’s hand twitched again, making her press the wound harder than she wanted to.

“Fuck,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “That hurt, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” she said quietly. She finished her work a moment later and put the needle aside. “Done,” she stated and took off the gloves. "You have to be careful with that hand for a few days, okay? Don’t overuse it.”

“Okay, doc,” Michael replied. "Thank you."

“Stop it,” she smiled shyly. “I’m glad I could eventually repay you for rescuing me so many times.” Her hand moved to his left and stroked the inner side of it, feeling rough sutures under her fingertips. “It’s nothing.”

“On the contrary, it’s more than you think,” he pointed and leaned down, so he was closer to her. “Hope you’re not mad at me for talking to this dude. You had said something about the party earlier when we were in Hearty Taco if I remember it right..."

“I wasn’t planning on going anyway,” she told him. “Not since you’re here with me.”

“Oh, so I’m a better option than the party with this handsome friend of yours?” he half-teased, half-joked, but no matter what his intentions were, he did not expect the reaction that came from her.

“He’s not my type,” she stated, placing her hands on his neck. “Unlike you,” she added and Michael smirked proudly.

He was about to say something when he felt her pink, chapped lips on his. She did not kiss him, not in the strict meaning of it at least. Her lips were barely brushing his, but for Michael, it seemed so intense and sensual. It has been a while since someone kissed him like that, so delicately and softly. It was not the way hookers or Amanda did kiss him. It was not mechanical. It was so pure, gentle and intimate, and above all - she did it because she wanted to, not because he paid her for it. Michael could not help, but let out a quiet moan when she pulled away, her cheeks flushed and eyes slightly open. He leaned in for another kiss, but she stopped him, pulling him away gently.

“Hey, easy,” she said. “I meant what I said... I don’t want to be your lady for the night, Michael.”

“It was never an option,” he replied and moved away a bit, but not too far. It was hard for him to take his desire to lift and carry her straight to her bed, just to make her moan his name for the whole night.

“Is that so?”

“Not that I don’t want that.” He put an accent on that word and it was obvious what he meant by that. “But it’s not the only thing that matters to me. I know my reputation can make you think bad of me, but it’s not...”

“I don’t want to think of you basing on your reputation,” she interrupted. “I’m more interested in figuring out who you are by myself." She sent him a flirtatious smile. “But no rush.”

“No rush?”

“I want to get to know you,” she explained. “I already know you’re afraid of needles, that’s a good start.”

“Hey, I’m not... It’s not that I’m afraid...” “Yeah,” she laughed. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“It’s not funny,” he said in a serious tone but burst out laughing a moment later. “Okay, maybe a little, but don’t make fun out of me because of that, alright?”

“Oh, Michael, we all have fears, more or less rational,” she replied. “I’m not making fun out of you because you have one. I'm laughing because you desperately want to deny it.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t have any fear you’re ashamed of.”

“Of course, I do," she replied. "Who doesn’t?”

Chapter 6: Scarred By The Past

Chapter Text

They talked much that night since Phoebe had convinced Michael to stay with her. Actually, she did not need to convince him, because he agreed to stay the moment that proposition came out of her mouth. None of them wanted to be alone that night, not after having such a lovely day together. The number of things they were talking about seemed to have no end; starting from their hobbies, music preferences, favourite movies and ending with more complex topics like why did Michael’s marriage fell apart. To his surprise, it all came so easy - talking to Phoebe was not intimidating for him. She was listening carefully to every word he said and it was something he definitely was not used.

As their conversation kept going, they moved from the kitchen to the bedroom and got comfortable on Phoebe’s king-sized bed. The number of colourful pillows she had on her bed was a little bit overwhelming, but Michael stopped caring about some goddamn pillows the moment she hugged him, resting her head on his chest. He doubted anything could disturb him while she was around as all he could focus on was the smile on her face when she looked up at him.

“Your wife has no idea what she's missing,” Phoebe said and caressed his chest.

“Ex-wife,” he corrected.

“Ex-wife,” she repeated, correcting herself. “I don't want to judge, but I think there was something wrong with her. You’re a great guy, Michael,” Phoebe added then moved to the side, propping herself on her left elbow. “She simply couldn’t see it.”

“We'd been married for many years, so she had plenty of time to see through me. However, I don’t think we would even get married if it wasn’t for her pregnancy. I mean... We liked each other, but I don’t think it was love. More like... Obligation. There was Tracey, Jimmy... Life went on and we figured out our own ways to cope with reality.”

“I see,” Phoebe said and a gentle smile appeared on her face. “It was what it was. Life goes on."

Michael returned the smile and dared to tuck her hair behind her right ear. It was rare for him to find a woman as sweet and charming as she was. He adored the way she laughed, the way she touched him, looked at him and spoke to him; when he was around her, he felt appreciated and important like he actually mattered something to her.

He was staring at her and could not believe in his luck. She was with him because she wanted to, not because he paid her for it. She was listening to what he was saying because she was interested in what he had to say, not because it was her obligation. He was staring at her when he felt this fuzzy feeling inside - the one he has not felt in a very long time.

“Hey, Michael.” Phoebe tried to bring his attention back to her when she noticed he was lost in thought. “Penny for your thoughts,” she added and climbed onto him, straddling his lap.

“I was thinking...” he pondered, knowing telling her what he was really thinking about was not an option, so he had to come up with something else. “What’s that fear you're ashamed of?”

“Ugh, do we really have to talk about that?” she whined.

“Hey, you know my fear,” Michael pointed. “I’d love to know one of yours, so I wouldn’t feel like a complete idiot.”

“Mine is really weird,” she stated. “Like, even weirder than the fear of needles.”

He grabbed her and with one swift movement, he changed their positions, placing her gently on her back.

“Come on, Pheebs,” he said then began tickling her under the ribs. She wriggled beneath him and began squealing like a baby girl, trying to free herself from this torture, but she failed miserably. “I won't stop until you tell me,” Michael threatened and continued his merciless tickling. As they were wrestling with each other, Phoebe did not notice when her top rolled up, revealing her belly, but Michael did. The moment he saw the bottom of it covered up in nasty scars, he stopped, leaning down and taking a closer look at them. “What hap—“

“It’s nothing,” Phoebe cut him off and quickly covered the place he was looking at with her top.

“No, it isn't nothing,” Michael said, pulling away from her a little. She assured him once more it was nothing, but he was far from believing her. With his left hand, he had cupped her right cheek and forced her to look him in the eyes before he asked: “What happened?”

She did not reply at first, fighting the tears that eventually fell down on her cheeks. “It’s another thing I don’t really want to talk about,” she whispered.

“Fine,” Michael agreed. “Will you at least let me see it?” he asked and Phoebe nodded, brushing the tears with the back of her left hand. She was watching as he rolled up her top and unbuttoned her skirt, moving it down a bit, so he could see all the scars that were placed over there.

“They’re disgusting... I know,” she murmured, but Michael did not share her opinion. At first, he did not say anything in return, because he had no idea what to say.

She closed her eyes, trying not to be such a crybaby in front of him and hoping these scars would not loathe him.

“They’re not disgusting,” he replied after a while. “Will you tell me what happened?” He could not let it go like that.

She sighed loudly and as he rolled to the side and waited for her to say something. He wrapped his left arm around her when she decided to tell him what had happened that left such awful scars.

“Where do I start?” She chuckled quietly and also rolled to the side, so she could watch him as she spoke.

“Well... It’s complicated,” she stated, trying to find a good way to start her story. “My brother, Dan. I... My family always had its issues, you know... I guess every family has its own... Anyway, we had our issues, but we were all doing well until my brother started doing drugs. My mother... She has always had her problems with alcohol, so she didn’t mind her son slowly getting addicted... On the other hand, it was profitable, because Daniel was not only taking drugs but also selling them. It was helpful, considering there was a time when... It was really hard. My dad was terminally sick, my mom was permanently drunk and my brother was high almost every day... It was a mess, but it was somehow working until the day my dad died.” She had paused for a moment before she decided to continue. “Then, one day my brother lost what was left of his control. He was taking way too much of this shit and he became aggressive. It t went too far, we had an argument and he grabbed the bottle... He shattered it against the counter and... He stabbed me with what was left of it. I almost bled out on the goddamn kitchen floor while he and my mother did nothing to help me. They probably didn’t remember anything from that day,” she closed her eyes.

"I did remember everything, though. It made me realize how big shit we were in.”

“Phoebe, I...” Michael could not believe what she had been through and it was hard for him to say anything constructive in return. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too,” she replied quietly. “See... I’m so ashamed of these scars because they keep reminding me how fucked up my family is and what my brother did to me..." Phoebe smiled weakly at him and her right hand caressed his cheek. “You asked me about one of the fears I’m ashamed of, so here it is. No matter how ridiculous that sounds I’m really scared of shattered glass,” she confessed. “Break a cup in front of me and I’ll sweat in no time... How stupid is that?”

“It’s not stupid,” he shook his head.“At least, it's not as stupid as my fear of needles.” “It's not that stupid," Phoebe pointed. "We can work on that.”

“We can,” Michael agreed, “but first, we need to take care of you. I mean... You have nothing to be ashamed of,” he paused. “Your family doesn’t define you, neither does your scars,” he stated then moved down, brushing her scars and the skin around them with his lips. He was kissing them gently, not missing an inch and Phoebe trembled, feeling the spark coming through her body. Michael was peeking at her from above her belly, making sure she was okay with what he was doing.

She was stunned at first, but quickly her body adapted to the touch of his lips on her velvet skin. Michael seemed to be pleased when a small gasp escaped Phoebe’s mouth; that was when he began moving up and leaving a trail of small pecks on her body until his lips met hers, this time, in a proper kiss. Phoebe’s hands had buttoned her skirt back and covered her belly with a top before they returned on Michael’s neck, without breaking the kiss.

They have been breathing into each other’s mouths when they eventually pulled away, both in need of something more than just kissing.

At that moment Phoebe realised she was slowly falling for the man who did not only saved her but accepted her the way she was, who respected her and the boundaries she set.

It crossed Michael’s mind to get rid of his clothes and rip off hers as his desire for her was getting out of hand. To make all the fantasies he had with her real and make her feel as if she was the only girl in the world.

That was what he wanted.

That was also what she wanted, but she could not let that happen, not just yet. Not before she really got to know him. She was cautious, maybe even too cautious, but she had to protect herself from falling hard for the wrong man.

It was too late for that, anyway. Deep inside she knew, she fell hard for him the moment he kissed her scars. No one had ever done that before. No one had ever accepted that flaw of her, because other men did not want to know the burden she was carrying with her.

No one really wanted to know what she was dealing with. Except for him.

“Mike?” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. I think no one has ever done so much for me as you did.”

“Anything for you,” he smiled at her lightly and when she nestled up against him, he had made sure she fell asleep before he let himself get some rest, too.


They did not sleep much as around eight Phoebe’s phone rang, waking them both at once. She freed herself from Michael’s embrace and searched for the source of noise on her nightstand then, without even checking who was that she picked up.

“Yes?” she mumbled, half-sleeping, but quickly she woke up completely when she realized it was her boss calling. “Wait, what? I’m fired? Why?” she asked. “It’s not fair, Mr Moore. I... It’s not my fault your son has been calling me... Please, wait—” Phoebe wanted him to listen to her explanation, but apparently, her boss knew his own truth and hang up, cutting her off before she could say anything more in her defence.

“What’s going on?” Michael asked sleepily then sat up. “You seem upset.”

“Ugh, I forgot to mention you that the guy that was calling me yesterday is the son of the cafe owner I work on,” she replied, brushing her hair back with both of her hands. "He just called to fire me, because apparently, Joe didn’t like the fact you had picked up my phone and told him off yesterday. Dickhead...” She shook her head slowly. Then, with the dejected tone she added: “Fuck, Mike, I liked that job.”

“Did he really say all that?”

“No." She sighed. "I'm sure it's Joe's fault, though."

"You’ll find a better one, Phoebe.” Michael tried to cheer her up. “The one where they will treat with deserved respect, not where the owner listens to his frustrated son.”

“If I fail, I’ll join my friend at Vanilla Unicorn,” Phoebe joked, but Michael was far from laughing at it; his face became grumpy and he eyed Phoebe, letting her know he did not approve that.

“That's not an option,” he blurted. “I don’t want any other guy to touch you.”

“You don’t want that?” She chuckled as she sat at the edge of the bed. “I’m just playing with you,” she added when she turned around and looked at him. “I only let you touch me, don’t worry.”

Michael looked down, feeling angry at himself for letting his emotions take control over him. He did not want to seem like the jealous and possessive type in front of her, but at the same time, he knew it was just the way he was. Jealous. Possessive. He did not want any other guy to look at her with desire, not mentioning flirting or touching her. He wanted her to be exclusively his.

The question was, was he able to be exclusively hers? What if his demands were too high and he was not able to give her the same things he wanted from her?

“I’m not worrying,” he said in his defence. “I just think you should be careful. There are plenty of different jobs. Safer ones.”

“I know, Mike." Phoebe winked at him then crawled on her fours to him. “You don’t have to be jealous.” She left a peck on his cheek and at the same time, someone knocked on the doors.

It had not been long before Phoebe’s heard her friend’s voice when the doors opened and seconds later, Amy entered her place. She stopped when she realised Phoebe was not alone and she could have ruined the moment.

“Pheebs—oh crap, I didn’t know you have a guest,” she said then backed off while Phoebe nervously got off Michael’s lap. He was quickly buttoning the first two buttons of his shirt and the whole scene looked as if they were caught red-handed on doing god-knows-what.

“You could’ve waited until I opened the goddamn doors,” Phoebe hissed. “Apparently, giving you the spare key was a mistake.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like you two were having sex or something...” Amy smiled awkwardly and both Phoebe and Michael looked angrily. “Alright, I should’ve waited outside.”

“Exactly,” Phoebe agreed and went to grab some fresh clothes from her closet. "Since you, Amy, already ruined the moment Michael and I had, I’m gonna go and take a quick shower. The morning did not begin well, either. I lost my job,” she said and walked past Amy. She entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

“Wait, what?” Amy asked surprised. "What job?”

“She got fired this morning,” Michael replied for Phoebe. “Ten minutes ago, actually.”

“What happened?” The blonde woman asked then leaned her right arm against the wall of Phoebe’s bedroom.

Michael was looking at her, at the tight black skirt and matching top she was wearing, trying to remind himself whether he had seen her before.

“Some guy named Joe did,” he explained. “He kept calling her the last evening and she wasn’t really pleased about it.”

“Oh, so you two were together yesterday,” Amy marked.

“Yes, we were,” Michael confirmed. “Well, I might've answered one of his calls and told him off, but I didn’t think this prick would do something like that.”

“I knew it,” the woman laughed. “You’re the guilty one.”

“Excuse me?"

“Listen up, Michael.” Amy looked at him, “I know how guys like you act. The scheme is simple - you want her, you fuck her and then you leave her.” Her tone was nearly accusing. “So, step back before you’re gonna break my best friend’s heart.”

“Amy,” Michael said while he put on his shoes, “I have no intention in hurting your best friend because I really like her. I’ve heard you're aware of my reputation.” He stood up and faced the woman. “However, I don’t act the way you think. Not anymore, at least.”

“Come on, you really think I’m gonna believe that?” she puffed. “We both know it ain’t true. I don’t know what you're trying to achieve, spending so much time with her, acting as if you cared about her while I’m pretty sure you simply want to use her. I mean, a guy like you with a woman like her? She’s too good for you.” Amy shook her head slowly. “You don’t deserve her and you know it.”

“You're right, but somehow she still wants me around,” Michael smirked. “I know you’re doing it all to protect her, but you don’t have to. It’s not your call to make.”

“Phoebe will see through her eyes,” Amy said cockily. “I’ll make sure she will sooner than later, so I spare her some pain.”

Michael chuckled and shook his head in disapproval. “Don’t you want your friend’s happiness?”

“Of course, I want that,” she fired back. “I just don’t think you’re the one to give her what she needs. I’m not sure a man like you is capable of truly loving anyone.”

“You don’t know me,” he replied, “so, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t have to know you to have an idea who you are. All I needed to do was ask the hookers,” she responded calmly.

“Oh, I see you two are getting along,” Phoebe said ironically as she went out of the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel. “I was gone for 5 minutes and you already jumped at each other’s throats.”

“We’re just chatting,” Amy turned towards her friend. “Michael told me about Joe. I’m so sorry, Pheebs,” she added. "I'm sure you'll find something better."

“Here’s hoping,” she responded. “In all that mess I forgot to ask you what happened? It’s not like you to visit me this early.”

“I wanted to talk, you know, girls stuff.” Amy glared at Michael. "It’s not that important, though.” “I see,” Phoebe nodded. “I’m gonna call you later, okay? I have to go and pick up my things from Cafe Redemption and get it over with.”

“I’ll give you a ride,” Michael offered, trying to get out of this awkward situation. "Let's go, shall we?"

Chapter 7: It's Your Day

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“What happened between you and Amy?” Phoebe asked when she got into Michael’s tailgater a few minutes later. "You two seemed nervous when I returned."

“It's no big deal,” Michael replied calmly then, he turned on the engine. “It seems we simply don’t like each other much.”

“Do you have something against her?”

“No, why would I? She, on the other hand, definitely has something against me,” he said briefly as he did not want to continue this conversation. “So, our next stop is Café Redemption?”

“Yeah," she confirmed then let the silence fill the car, realising Michael was not in a mood to talk.

The road from Phoebe's place to Café Redemption felt like an eternity for Michael. The atmosphere was somehow ruined between them and when she turned her head to look through the car window, he knew something was wrong. When they stopped at the red light he looked at her, realising was wearing a dark blue polo dress. She looks lovely, Michael thought, but the sadness at her face was disturbing.

“What’s wrong, gorgeous?” he asked eventually and she turned towards him at the sound of his voice.

“I’m a little bit down because of that goddamn work, Mike,” she explained and nervously bit her bottom lip. “I need a job and I lost that one because of some stupid brat... Oh, and I wish you and Amy got along, too.”

“She and I will get along at some point, don’t worry.” Michael’s right hand moved onto Phoebe’s tight and caressed the inner side of it. “Everything’s gonna be alright, you know?”

“Isn’t that a little bit cheesy? Everything’s gonna be alright?" She smirked then shook her head slowly. "We both know life doesn't work like that.”

“Trust me, it's gonna be alright."

A moment later, Michael stopped his car in front of the cafe and Phoebe sighed loudly. He smiled warmly at her, but apparently, her mood was still far from good as she looked down, trying to avoid his sight. For some time she was sitting like that, gathering her thoughts and then she eventually looked up at him. A gentle smile appeared on her face and she placed her left hand on his right, that was still placed on her thigh.

“It’ll only take a minute,” she stated then got out of the car. “You don’t even have to turn off the engine.”

“Take your time,” Michael told her and when she closed the car door, he noticed her phone was left on the passenger seat. He was watching her disappear inside the building then his eyes went back to her phone. To Michael’s misfortune, it started ringing a few seconds after she had left. Damn, Michael murmured under his breath and peeked who was calling her.

Dan.

What could possibly her brother want from her? He kept calling her for 10 minutes without any

longer break than 10 seconds between his calls. What was so damn urgent he could not wait until Phoebe would call him back?

“Fuck you, Joe!”

Michael heard Phoebe shouting and immediately got out of his car, slamming the car door behind his back. He saw her struggling with a man who had gripped her arm and did not want to let her go.

“You prefer some old prick instead of me?” he growled at Phoebe. “I should’ve known a girl like you only care about money!”

“You’re insane!” Phoebe fired back. “You know what? Go to hell, Joe!”
“Hey, douche!” Michael fumed as he angrily pushed Joe away from Phoebe. “Let her go, now.”

“Let her go? Who do you think you are, old man?” Joe asked, letting go of Phoebe's arm and clenching his fists, ready to fight.

“Say another word and I can be your worst nightmare!” Michael yelled and was about to punch him when Phoebe got between them with her arms spread out.

“Enough!” she exclaimed and turned towards Michael. “He ain’t worth it, Mike.”

“I ain't worth it? You’re a pathetic little whore and I wish I'd known it earlier!" Joe exclaimed and that was then Michael lost his temper. He passed Phoebe and got to Joe, pinning him by the throat against the nearest wall.

“What did you call her?” he asked, tightening his grip. The man was running out of breath and he choked out a few words that Michael did not understand. “Can’t hear you, pal."

“N-nothing,” Joe stammered as Michael loosened his grip a bit. “I’m s-sorry.”

"What?"

"I... I'm s-sorry."

"Michael..." He heard Phoebe's scared voice coming from behind his back. He did not want to scare her, but he also did not want anyone to offend her as Joe did.

“Very well,” Michael said then withdrew his hand, backing off slowly. “Now get out of my sight!"

Joe shook his head nervously, gasping for air and touching his bruised neck. He hissed painfully as he touched the places Michael’s hand had been a moment ago then hurried inside the building, without looking back.

Phoebe was standing aside and even though, she knew Michael did it to protect her, she was still in shock. She swallowed loudly and stepped towards him, grabbed his hand again and lead him back to his car. When they were far enough from prying eyes of disturbed customers, she looked at him questioningly.

“It wasn't necessary,” she said quietly.

“Wasn't it?" Michael asked. "He called you a whore and you expected me to let it go?” Michael marked.

“I don't know,” she replied. "I know I don't want you to get in trouble because of me." "I won't get in trouble," he assured her. "Got everything you needed?"

"Yes."

“Good. I think we won’t be welcomed for some time.”

Good, Phoebe thought to herself. I have no intention to go back there ever again. She put her stuff down on the backseat then sat on the passenger seat, realising her phone was blowing up with notifications. She began scrolling through them and sighed, seeing dozens of unanswered calls from her brother.

“Your phone started ringing the moment you left the car,” Michael told her, turning on the engine. “It’s your brother, isn’t it?”

“I wonder what he wants,” she murmured and decided to call him back. After a few signals, Dan picked up. “What do you want?” she hissed, but after a moment her face turned from angry to confused. “What? Are you kidding me? Sure, I’ll be there.”

She hung up and for a while, she was blankly staring ahead, processing everything she heard over the phone. Then, she turned to Michael, who was watching her with his eyes wide open, and quietly asked:

“Could you take me to the hospital?"


The irony of life is that when one thing goes down, the other ones will likely follow.

This time, it was no different.

Michael was thinking about it when he was waiting for Phoebe in the hospital corridor with his back leaned against the white wall.

He hated hospitals. He hated how sterile they were and in the air, he could smell this specific scent that hard to describe but also hard to mistake with anything else. If someone had ever visited this place, it would be hard not to get familiar with it.

The minutes felt like hours, but thanks to that, he had more time to think about everything that happened during the past weeks.

To think about Phoebe.

Michael watched her as she was sitting by her mother, holding her weak hand in hers. Phoebe was not crying, but when she turned around, searching for his comfort, he could see she was at the edge of it. The state she saw her mother in was heartbreaking for her.

Phoebe was a good person, Michael had no doubts about that. She made him want to become a better man himself and change the ways he was living for her. If a change was a price to pay for being with her, he was ready for it. He shocked himself with that statement because he had never thought he would be able to change. For years, he had been stuck in a toxic marriage and lost any hope he would feel anything real for another woman ever again.

All his side relationships were about sex. They were shallow and meaningless while whatever he had with Phoebe was different because she was different than any other woman he was seeing.

When she was smiling at him, he felt like a different person. When she was kissing him, it felt like heaven. She was someone he never thought he would meet in his life. He was watching her and wondered what did he do to deserve her.

“Hey, man.” Michael looked at the man who had approached him, immediately guessing who he was. “You’re here with my sister, right?”

“That’s right,” he replied and took a closer look at the stranger.

It would not be possible for Phoebe to deny it was her brother. They were too damn similar. Her brother also had dark hair and eyes, but his body was ruined by the drugs and it was visible. The dark circles around his bloodshot eyes and sunken cheeks were telling his story pretty clear. “You must be Daniel.”

“Was she telling you about me?” Daniel snorted. “That’s something new."

“Considering what you did to her I’m surprised she’s still able to say your name out loud and answer your calls.”

“Listen, man, I don’t know what exactly she told you,” Dan said, "but I would never hurt her on purpose, she’s my sister and I love her even if she hates me.” He had paused for a minute before he asked: “What’s your name?”

“Michael."

“Michael... You shouldn't judge people this fast, especially when you know only one side of the story."

Michael did not know what to response; he did not know whether he wanted to punch Dan for what he did to Phoebe or tell him he was sorry. There was a chance Dan was not as bad as he thought he was. His life was destroyed by addiction that was slowly killing him and everyone he loved. Michael looked at him with pity and at the same moment, Phoebe walked out from the hospital room. She froze, seeing him and her brother together, but brushed off this weird feeling and approached them a second later.

“What happened to mom?” she asked, sending Daniel a glare. “What did you do to her?” “It's not my fault, Phoebe,” he fired back. “She overdosed alcohol, not drugs.”

“Nothing's ever your fault, Dan,” she said bitterly. “Why did they bring her here? Wasn’t the medical centre in Sandy Shores closer?”

“She wanted to see you,” Dan explained. “We’ve been in Los Santos for a few days and wanted to pay you a visit, hoping you would eventually talk to us.”

He looked down at his watch and after a short pause, he added: “It’s your day, right? Not the best you could wish for, but...”

"Wait, what day?" Michael asked, looking at them both questioningly.

“Dan, it’s not a good moment...” Phoebe said and before she could explain, Dan added: “Happy 31st birthday, sis.”


“Why didn’t you tell me about your birthday?” Michael questioned when they left the hospital a few minutes later.

“It’s been a rough day, Mike. It must’ve slipped out of my mind," she replied shortly.

“If you told me, I would get you a gift or something,” he marked.

“I’m sorry things turned out this way, okay? I didn’t plan any of them.”

“It’s not your fault,” Michael replied and embraced her. She rested her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around, holding him tight. “The day is not over yet.”

“You’re telling me there’s more of this terrible day?” she laughed humorlessly. “I don’t think I have the strength to face anything more today. I’m tired and hungry,” she added. "The vision of coming back here in the morning to check on my mom and Dan isn't really helping."

Michael freed himself from her embrace and opened the door of his car for her. “I happen to have food and bed at my place too,” he said and before Phoebe could hesitate, he added: "Let me make your day a little bit better."

“I don't have much to say, right?” Phoebe sighed but was not opposing, knowing she would not convince Michael to drive her home. Besides, the thought of spending an evening with him was very appealing.

"You don't."

They had been driving for a couple of minutes before they reached Michael’s mansion and this time, there was no one there except them. Michael parked in front of the garage and then they walked inside, directing their steps straight to the kitchen.

“You’re cooking for me tonight?” Phoebe asked, sitting on the chair next to the kitchen island. “You wish,” Michael laughed and opened up the fridge. “Eva prepared us something to eat. Hope you like quesadillas?”

“Who is Eva?”

“She’s my maid,” he responded. “You don’t have to be jealous...” “Believe me or not, I’m not jealous,” she winked at him.

She watched Michael placing a plate in front of her and then he opened up the wine, pouring some into the glasses. He handed one out to her and when they clicked their glasses, she smiled, taking a sip of sweet liquid. A moment later, they began eating, both of them hungry as it was their first meal since yesterday evening when they were eating together in Hearty Taco. Soon, their plates became empty and so was the bottle of wine, making their moods slightly better.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, feeling his eyes set on her. She looked at him and their eyes met in a gaze.

“You’re beautiful,” he responded after a moment. “I’m sure many guys have told you that before.”

“Not as many as you think,” she told him and put the empty glass away. “Not only for the compliment but also for not letting me be alone tonight.”

“Pleasure is mine,” Michael smirked, “pleasure is all mine.”

She smiled shyly in response, so he decided to ask one more thing: “So, what’s your birthday wish?”

“I don't have any."

"Come on, gorgeous, I'm sure there is something you want."

"A kiss would be nice," she blurted.

“A kiss?” Michael asked and his left hand wandered on her knee.

“Yes, a kiss,” she confirmed and began playing with the collar of his shirt.

"I can do that," he chuckled then leaned down slightly, pressing his lips against hers. She tasted like wine, sweet and bitter at the same time. She returned the kiss, giving in completely. Her hands were wandering on his neck, her fingers were stroking his jawline while he picked her up and, without breaking the kiss, he carried her to the living room. He carefully sat down on the couch with her and that was when she pulled away, leaning her forehead against his and breathing into his mouth.

"I could get used to that," she said.

"Me either," Michael replied and went for another, quick kiss. "Want to... Want to watch a movie or--"

"Movie sounds perfect," Phoebe interrupted, "but I have to warn you, I might fall asleep during watching."

"It's fine," he told her and went to pick a movie from his collection while she curled up on the couch. "You cold?"

"Tired," she replied and reached out for a pillow to rest her head against. "What's your choice?"

"Sunset Boulevard," he responded then walked to grab a blanket from the other side of the couch. He covered Phoebe with it then took a seat beside her. The woman smiled slightly, then placed a pillow and her head on his thighs, making herself comfortable on his couch.

"That's nice."

The movie started, but Micheal could not focus on it. He had seen this movie many times before and loved it, but this time, all his attention was drawn to her. Phoebe. She fell asleep a few minutes later, drained from energy, but he kept caressing her head until, at some point, his eyes closed, too.

Chapter 8: Things We Do For Family

Chapter Text

A few hours later, Phoebe lazily opened up her eyes and quickly realised she was snuggled up against Michael. His right arm was wrapped around her waist as they two fell asleep on his couch the previous evening. From what she could remember they were watching some old movie, but she could not remind herself the title - she was too tired and too occupied by Michael's presence by her side than what was happening on the screen.

The last thing she wanted was to get up, to get rid of the blanket Michael had covered her with and the warmth of his body next to hers, but at the same time, she knew she had to get up. She promised Daniel she would come and check on their mother in the morning, so staying with Michael, no matter how tempting, was not an option.

Phoebe took a moment to free herself out of Michael’s embrace - she gently pushed him on the back and left a small peck on his cheek. A slight smile appeared on man's face and she felt a warm feeling in her heart. She kept watching him sleeping calmly and wished this moment would last forever.

Since her father died she had been feeling empty for most of the time. It was like the piece of her heart was ripped out when he passed away years ago. It was not like she did not try to fill that void, but it never seemed to work. No one was able to make her feel something real, something that could fill the empty space in her heart. Every relation seemed so forced, but with Michael, no matter how weird that sounded, it felt natural. Like it was meant to be.

Phoebe did not believe in destiny, though. She believed every action had a consequence, so people were mostly responsible for things that happened to them. Mostly, because still, there were things she could not explain. One of them was how she and Michael met, but in the end, she did not an explanation for that.

What matter was that she was happy. For the first time in years, she could not stop smiling from ear to ear. She was feeling like a teenage girl who has just begun dating her first, very real boyfriend and everything she experienced with him was purely magical, so she wanted to get the most of every second she got to spend with him.

“Good morning,” he said sleepily when Phoebe moved carefully, trying to get up from the couch. She immediately stopped at the sound of his voice as if she was caught red-handed. “Leaving so early?"

“I told you I promised Dan I would go and check on mom in the morning," she replied. "I wish I could stay with you. I really do."

"So stay with me,” he stated, taking her left hand in his. "I'll give you a ride or you can take my car yourself. Either way, you have more time for me."

“You trust me enough to let me drive your car? Your baby?” Phoebe asked and laid down beside him on her side.

"Baby?" Michael repeated amused. "I admit, I really like my car, but I don't call it my baby," he added.

"Weird," Phoebe replied. "I've always thought it's man thing to call a car baby," she explained and sat back down on the couch.

"Not in my case," he countered. "So, the keys are on the kitchen table, but say a word and I'll give you a ride."

"Noted."

As they were sitting next to each other, Phoebe reached out for Michael's left hand and took a closer look at the inner side, where she had stitched him two days ago.

“It already looks much better,” she stated, seeing his wound was healing well.

"I had the best doctor taking care of me," Michael said, making her smile shyly.

"Well, try not to cut your hand too often," Phoebe replied.

"No promises," he joked. "I like the way your hand fit in mine. It's so tiny and delicate," he added, tangling his fingers with hers.

"Yours is big and rough," she countered, "but I like the way it feels on mine."

Michael smiled gently, bringing her hand to his lips. He began kissing her knuckles, one by one, when out of sudden, a high pitched voice reached their ears.

“Hell—Daddy? What are you—who’s she?”

Phoebe turned around rapidly and saw a young girl dressed in a bright pink dress that way too short for her, with blonde hair and visibly smudged mascara around her eyes. She was looking at her father and Phoebe cautiously, connecting the facts in her head.

“Why...What is she doing here?" The girl kept asking.

“Tracey, please, don’t make a scene right now— Where the hell have you been the whole night, by the way?” Michael moved away from Phoebe and was about to start lecturing his daughter, but interrupted him.

“I’m an adult!” she exclaimed. “I don't have to explain myself to you when I come back home after a party! You’re the one who brings some hooker to our house! If mom...”

“Don’t bring your mother into this!”

“The way I see it, you two need to talk,” Phoebe stated, using the sudden appearance of Michael’s daughter as the opportunity to leave. "I'll take the car, Mike."

"Call me if you need me," he added and then returned to arguing with his daughter.

Who does she think she is? Trace, calm down... Had been the last words that reached Phoebe’s ears before she left, taking the car keys on her way out. She hurried to Michael's Tailgater then got inside, feeling this weird excitement inside. It had been a while since the last time she drove, but she had always loved being a driver. Back in the days, she and her father used to go on long road trips, listening to their favourite songs and enjoying the endless roads ahead of them and even though her father was not there anymore, the love remained the same. So, she turned on the engine and when the car started, she focused on the road.


“Dan, wake up,” Phoebe said then shook her brother’s arm when she arrived at the hospital sometime later.

“What-what’s going on? What time is it?” he blurted and sat up, rubbing his eyes with inner sides of his hands. The man was sleeping on the sofa, in the corner of the hall and did not notice her coming. It was way too early for him to wake up, especially since he fell not so long ago.

“It’s almost 9 in the morning." She sat down beside him. “How is mom feeling?”

“She’s fine. She woke up in the middle of the night, but quickly fell asleep again,” Dan replied then yawn loudly. "How was the birthday celebration? I can feel you had a good night, sis.”

“Oh, shut up,” she told him. “I’m here for mom. I wouldn’t even be talking to you if I didn’t have to.”

“Phoebe...”

“Don’t even start. Nothing annoys me as much as your empty apologies. I’ve already forgiven you, but I’ll never forget what you did to me. To mom. To our family.”

Dan looked down, biting his bottom lip tensely. He had made many mistakes in his life, but hurting his sister the way he did was something much worse. He lost his sister and it was all because of his recklessness. He ruined everything and he also hated himself for what he had done to her.

However, he could not turn back time, no matter how badly he wanted to do that.

“She asked about you. You know, mom,” he said after a while. “I told her you were there to see her and you were doing alright. I also mentioned your new boyfriend to her and she seemed pretty excited about it.”

“It's not my boy--I want to see mom,” Phoebe stated, trying not to get carried away by her emotions. She was there for her mother, so her brother and his remarks could go to hell. “Is she awake?”

“Don't know,” Dan replied and rolled up the sleeves of his black shirt. “Go and check it out yourself.”

Phoebe puffed in response. She got up then passed him by, directing her steps to the hospital room where her mother was. She silently closed the doors then approached the hospital bed, looking at the older woman carefully. She has not changed much since the last time Phoebe saw her. She was still the same woman she remembered. Her mother, Mary Harris. The only thing that changed was that there were more grey hairs among the dark brown ones. She looked exhausted when she slowly opened up her green eyes and looked at Phoebe who had just sat at the edge of the mattress.

“Hi, mom,” she spoke first and felt her mother’s left hand squeezing her right.

“Hi, baby,” the woman said weakly. “Happy birthday and... I'm so sorry--"

“It’s okay," Phoebe cut her off. "How are you feeling?”

“I’m better,” she admitted. “I'm feeling much better now. How about you, sunshine?"

“I’m good,” Phoebe replied. "Let’s skip the small talk, alright? I know you two came here for a reason and I feel it wasn’t my birthday,” she had paused before she continued: “So, what is it?”

“Phoebe...”

“Mom. Please," she insisted.

The woman sighed deeply and bit her bottom lip, searching for the right words. “It’s about Dan,” she started. “He's in trouble, Phoebe.”

“That’s what I figured.”

“Do you remember that man from Sandy Shores? Ron?” Phoebe nodded in response, so her mother continued. “After you had moved out, we were... We were having some financial problems. Dan was dealing again and one day, he bumped into Ron and his, I don’t know, boss? What was his name... Trevor?”

“Trevor... Trevor Philips?” “Yes.”

“Mom...”

“Dan made a deal with him. He agreed to sell the stuff he was providing him with and it was working, Phoebe. It was working, I swear, but about a month ago someone stole the drugs Dan was going to sell... It was some expensive stuff and when Trevor found out, he got mad. He threatened he would kill Dan if he won’t get the money. He owes him 10,000 dollars...”

“Is this some kind of silly joke?" Phoebe could feel her throat run dry and her heart beating faster. “Mom, for fuck’s sake, that's a lot.!

“I know... I know, honey. We were trying to get them, but...”

“You’re fucking addicts! That’s what you are, mom! Where is he?” Phoebe got up rapidly and hurried towards the doors. He found her brother leaning against the wall on the other side. “What have you done, you fool?” she snapped at him then grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him inside the hospital room. “Have you both lost your minds?" She felt her knees weaken, so she leaned against the frame of the hospital bed. “Tell me you two are joking.”

“Do I look as if I was joking?” Dan asked. “Does mom look as if she was joking? Maybe if you didn’t leave back then, we wouldn’t be in trouble right now!”

“We? No, no, don’t drag me into this, Dan and don’t make me feel guilty for it! I’ve told you hundred times, stay away from Trevor fucking Philips, but no! You smelled the money and you ran to him like a dog, because you wouldn’t survive if you stopped taking goddamn drugs! You two are crazy, that’s why I left! You keep blaming everyone, but not yourselves for the things that happen to you. It’s your fault, not mine!”

“Phoebe, calm down... We need your help,” her mother said softly. “It’s not your fault, but we need you. If not for Dan... Do it for me.”

“What should I do? Should I give you 10,000 dollars? Oh, sorry, but I don’t have it!” “No,” Mary shook her head. “You could you talk to Trevor... Dan told me you and him...”

“Talk?” Phoebe repeated in disbelief. “Mom, do you hear yourself? You’re asking me to talk to him after everything he did to us? You should’ve stayed away from him in the first place! If it wasn’t for him, Dan wouldn’t look like this! You wouldn’t have started drinking and maybe dad would still be alive!”

“If you don’t want to talk with Trevor, you could ask your boyfriend for a small loan,” Dan spoke

from the corner of the room. “It’s obvious he’s loaded.”

“I won’t be asking him for anything, understood? It’s not his business and I won’t drag him into this shit,” Phoebe brushed her hair back and closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts. “Are you two really that desperate? Oh, don’t answer it. You are, coming all the way from Sandy Shores here, just to ask me to get you out of that mess! You probably don’t care, but I lost my job yesterday. Literally yesterday, so I won’t be able to give you the money.”

“So talk to Trevor,” her mothers said. “Just talk--”

“Alright,” Phoebe interrupted her, wanting this conversation to end. “I’ll do it for you, but that’s it, mom. No more favours afterwards, " Phoebe added, feeling her throat clench. “Where can I find Trevor?”

“Ron told me he’s the boss at Vanilla Unicorn now,” Daniel replied. “Phoebe, we...”

“Don’t. As I said, there’s no we. We ended the moment you stabbed me with that bottle,” she cut him off.

"Phoebe..." Her mother wanted to intervene, but Phoebe did not want to listen to them anymore. “Take care, mom.” She turned to her mother. “You deserve better than this.”

“Maybe one day...”

“Maybe, mom.”

Phoebe spoke her last words then left the hospital room, hurrying outside, so no one could stop her on the way out. Her head was spinning as she went outside, realising her life was an endless cycle of disasters. Whenever she thought she managed to leave her past behind, it was coming at her again from around the corner. What was worse, this time, she was about to face and remind himself to the person who had begun the cycle years ago.

Trevor fucking Philips.


The loud music was playing loud and a few scantily dressed girls were wandering around Trevor and Michael while they sat down by the table at Vanilla Unicorn later the same day. After a rough argument with his daughter, Michael had to cool off a little and since he knew Phoebe was visiting her mother and brother in the hospital, he decided to talk to the only person who could possibly understand him and his struggles.

“So, you two are still hooking up?” Trevor asked, taking a sip of his drink. “She must be something then."

“She definitely is something,” Michael replied and tapped his finger against the table. "I wish Trace would be more understanding, you know? I had to move on eventually...”

“Maybe she thought you would find yourself, I don’t know, someone your age?” Trevor laughed deeply. “I’m not judging you, though. She must look sweet with your cock in her mouth, so innocent and all,” he taunted and Michael glared at him.

“You’re obscene,” Michael said in almost accusing tone. “And you’re all saint now, huh?” Trevor countered.

“No, but there is more than sex,” Michael explained. “I think... I really like her.”

“You really like her?” Trevor looked at his friend in disbelief. “Come on! Have you told her the truth about what had happened back then?”

“No, but it’s just because I’m protecting her...”

“Protecting her from what? The truth?” Trevor shook his head. "If you’re protecting anyone, it’s you, not her. You can’t protect anyone, but yourself, Mikey.”

“Now you’re gonna lecture me, T?” Michael snorted. “I didn’t ask for your advice on that matter. I don’t even know why you care so much about it.”

"She has the right to know the truth,” Trevor paused for a moment. “You can’t do that to people. You can’t keep lying to them because you think it’s better for them! You don’t know if that's better!” Trevor yelled and smashed his fist against the table, spilling Michael’s drink on it. “You think you changed, but you didn’t. You’re the same old, selfish prick I’ve known for almost my entire life.”

“Some things are better left unsaid,” Michael replied and looked down. "Sometimes they bring more harm than use.”

“Yeah, but you know what's worse than harm? Finding out the truth years later,” Trevor said and his friend could hear the pain in his voice. “Anyway, why do I care? Cheetah!” he shouted to one of the girls and when she approached her, he continued: “Bring me another drink, sweetheart.”

“Trevor, I appreciate your concern...”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Trevor interrupted him. “You’re so full of shit, Mikey. You never learn and you’ll end up alone. Not because you’re insane, but because you’re a liar.”

“You’re wrong,” Michael replied the same moment Cheetah put a drink for Trevor on the table.

“Whatever you say,” Trevor replied and grabbed the blonde girl by the hand. “Sweetheart, what about short dance for this grumpy cat in front of us? He could definitely use some kind of distraction.” He sent Michael a wink.

“No, I'm good,” Michael said when the stripper approached him from behind and placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Why?” she purred when she leaned down to his ear. “I think I could make you feel even better,” she whispered and Michael felt his body shiver at the sound of her seductive voice.

“Don't push me, Cheetah,” he said more firmly.

“Suit yourself.” The girl shrugged then walked away, leaving them in two.

“No more hookers? Acting as if you had morals? That’s... That’s not like you,” Trevor marked after a moment.

“Yeah, that's not like me,” Michael confirmed, “but I really want to do it right this time, T. I want to try--”

“Boss, someone is waiting for you outside,” one of the bodyguards said when he the table they were sitting at. “It seems to be an urgent matter.”

“Can’t you see I’m busy right now? Tell them to come later or not at all.” “But...”

“But what? Wade!” Trevor growled and the man whose name he was shouting ran to him in no time. “Someone is waiting outside. Find out what they want then come back to me.”

“Yes, T-Trevor.”

He and Michael were sitting in silence for a moment only exchanging a few glances in the meantime when suddenly Ron came back with the pieces of information Trevor wanted him to get.

“I think you’ll want to talk to her, Trevor,” he said, catching his breath. “It’s-it’s that girl you told me about a few days ago.”

Trevor did not react at first. His fingers tapped the glass and he raised up his head slowly, looking at Wade with this ominous smile of his. Trevor let out a small chuckle, confusing both Michael and Wade then downed what was left of his drink.

“In that case, I can’t let her wait.”

Chapter 9: Hello, Old Friend

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

I will never run from the past, Phoebe thought while she was walking down the corridor that was leading to Trevor’s office in Vanilla Club. The last thing she wanted to do was meet with him, but at the same time, she felt as if she was still responsible for her brother and if she could help him (even if that included meeting Trevor), she wanted to try. She knew the risk of meeting with him, but she did it anyway. The door of his office opened and she stopped up in front of her old friend (the one she wished she had forgotten) in worn-out grey joggers and the t-shirt that once upon a time was white.

“I knew I'd seen you before, doll," he scoffed when he saw her.

“Trevor,” she spoke his name softly and he smiled at the sound of it. “Remember me?”

“How could I forget you, Phoebe? Though, I have to admit it took me a while to remind myself where I’d seen such pretty face before.” He stood up from the chair then walked around his desk to lean against the front of it. “It was years ago when we saw each other for the last time. I’m quite sure your hair was lighter and you were thicker the last time I saw you,” he marked.

“Should I take it as a compliment?” she puffed.

“Darker hair suits you better, but I liked you thicker. It’s just my personal preference, though,” he responded.

When Phoebe did not reply, he added: “Anyway, how’s Daniel?”

“You tell me,” she replied. “How much did he mess up this time?"

“Pretty much,” Trevor cleared his throat. “No offence, but your brother is such a coward.”

“Hard not to agree,” she faked a smile. "However, I didn’t come to you to talk about who my brother is. It wasn’t the main reason, at least. I came to you because I need a favour.”

“A favour?"

“I don't know what you're planning, but please, don't do him much harm,” she specified. “He’s such a fool, but you should know it by now. It wasn’t the first time you were working with him."

"Your brother asked for this particular job, but he fucked it up. Are you implying I should let him go away with it just like that? You know I’m not that kind of a man, sweetheart,” Trevor replied calmly.

“So, what you’re gonna do about it?”

“I don't know yet,” he answered shortly, “but you can help me make up my mind.”

Phoebe swallowed loudly, feeling well where it was going. She did not know why she was still doing it, but despite all her brother had done to her, she was ready to make a pact with the devil to save his dumb ass. No matter how much she hated him, she was still feeling responsible for him (even if it was a very odd kind of responsibility).

"Can I?” she questioned and made a step towards Trevor. “What do you want, Trevor?” “Let me think,” replied, keeping his eyes locked on her.

 

 

“Trevor?” she hurried him.

"I just thought of the night we got to spend together. I had to admit no one has ever kissed me as you did, even if I don't remember everything precisely," he said eventually. "You know, meth."

"I was going through some shit back then," Phoebe stated, tilting her head to the side. "You knew how wasted I was, but you did nothing to stop it," she added, her tone bitter and pretentious.

“Why would I stop it? You wanted that, Phoebe. I didn’t kiss you, you kissed me," Trevor countered. "I wonder how far we would've gone if we weren't interrupted by your brother."

“I guess we will never know,” she told him, having a feeling what he was going to say next.

“Why?"

“Just because,” she replied. "Helping Daniel isn't worth it."

“If you say so,” Trevor shrugged. “One more kiss and I’ll forget about what your brother did.” He came closer to Phoebe and she backed off instinctively.

She felt her heart pounding when Trevor cupped her chin, brushing her bottom lip with his thumb. She was not able to move even though she could have easily pulled him away if she wanted to. It crossed her mind to give in, to do what this crazy psychopath in front of her wanted and get it over it, forgetting about the whole thing. However, quickly she realised, it was not that simple. She did not want to do it, because it was not right. She did not want to sell her body in the name of helping her dumbass brother who would never do the same thing for her. Daniel would never sacrifice that many things as she had sacrificed for him.

“One kiss, Phoebe. That’s all it takes," Trevor encouraged her, but she was not listening.

She thought of Michael and suddenly, everything was clear and the choice was obvious.

“No,” she said loud and clear. Then, she brushed off Trevor hand off her chin. “Go to hell.”

There was a time when she thought she was willing to do everything for her family, but apparently, this time was over.

Aren't feelings absurd? They made people lose their minds and do things they would never do if they were thinking rationally. Where are feelings, there is no chance of thinking like that and at that moment, Phoebe was not thinking rationally. She was not sure of anything except this one thing: she did not do that to Michael even though he was not there. He would not see anything and probably would never find about it.

“Alright, doll,” Trevor chuckled then backed off, returning behind his desk. "We could've had a very good time together."

“Maybe," Phoebe shrugged. "I'm not that woman, Trevor."

“It would be easier for you if you were. It's not wise to follow your heart, Phoebe."

“What can you know about following your heart?"

“Nothing,” he said then pulled out a cigarette from the pack that was lying on his desk, “but I know the man you're doing it for and trust me... Michael isn't worth it."

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused by his words. "H-How do you know it's about Michael?"

 

 

“Who else would it be? I saw you two together, I ain't blind," he chuckled. "What I want to say is you have no idea who you're sleeping with."

"No offence, but it's not your business."

"Isn't it? I'm giving you a piece of friendly advice, Phoebe! I had no idea you like dating liars, fuckers and cheaters, all in one person." Trevor snorted.

"Even if, why do you care? Jealous?" She folded her arms. "Liars, cheaters, fuckers, they're all still better than you are, Trevor."

“Oh, is that so? Very well.” Trevor stood up rapidly. “Wayne!” he shouted and a few seconds later the man he had called entered the room. “Show Phoebe the way out.”

“There’s no need to. I know the way,” she said as she walked by the man with light brown dreadlocks.

There was nothing I could do. I’m sorry.

Once Phoebe was outside, she texted Daniel.

Then, she turned her phone off and marched towards Michael's car that she had parked in the back of Vanilla Unicorn and sighed heavily, resting her head against the driver's wheel.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted to run, but she did not know where to. The situation she found herself into was bad, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

She wanted to help her brother, but this time, she was not willing to pay the price for it. For years, she had been putting her family in the first place, but she could not do it any longer. It was one of the rare moments in her life when she thought of herself and made a choice based on her happiness. Not Daniel's. Not her mother's.

Hers.

Nothing had ever felt so good and bad for her at the same time.


Phoebe had been cruising around Los Santos for an hour, trying to gather her thoughts and calm down before she returned to Michael's mansion, a little bit calmer, but still, dozens thought were going through her mind. She did not think meeting with Trevor would be that hard and all the memories would come back to her at once. She was not prepared for that.

She was not prepared to feel everything at once. Starting from anger, going through grief and ending on this fuzzy feeling inside her belly every time Michael crossed her mind.

She did not agree on Trevor's proposition, because she would not be able to live, knowing she cheated on someone else she cared for. Cheated... Would it even be cheating if she and Michael were not together? However, whatever they were, Phoebe could not do that. Not after everything Michael had done for her.

"You're back," Michael mused when she left the car. "How was it?"

"Not that bad," she replied, throwing him the keys. "This car is amazing, Mike," she said once she reached him, leaving a peck on his cheek. "Father-daughter drama resolved?"

"You wish. She won't be talking to me for days to come." "It can't be that bad."

"Tracey has always kept her mother's side," he marked. "You can't blame her for that."

"I know," Michael sighed, "but I wish she was more understanding. She's my daughter, I would do anything for her, but... I deserve some happiness, too, right?"

"Give her some time," Phoebe told him, taking a step back and squeezing her phone in her hands. "I'll better get going," she added. "I don't want to piss your daughter off even more."

"It's my house, Phoebe. As long as I want you here, Trace has nothing to say," he said, inviting her inside with a gesture of his hand. "Come in," he added, "she's not home, anyway."

"Um, okay," she replied and walked inside, directing her steps to the living room. She fell onto the couch, sighing deeply while Michael disappeared in the kitchen. "What a day, Mike, I don't even know where--" She began talking when a few seconds later, Michael joined her on the couch with a piece of cake in one hand and a small, red gift box in the other. "What's that?"

"You didn't tell me about your birthday yesterday, so I got you something today," he explained, handing her the plate and the box. "Once again, happy birthday."

"You needn't have to," Phoebe said and placed a plate on her knees. She took a gift box in her hands and opened it carefully, letting out a sigh when she saw a beautiful, silver necklace with a small letter P. on it. She did not know what to say, so she kept staring at the piece of jewellery Michael gifted her with.

"Please, don't tell me you don't like it. I spent an hour picking it." Michael laughed nervously at his joke. "Phoebe?"

"How could I not like it? It's beautiful," she replied and looked up at him. "Thank you. Mind helping me put it on?" She handed him the necklace then turned around, brushing her hair aside. While Michael was working on the necklace clasp, she took a bite of the chocolate cake.

"You're spoiling me," she said once she swallowed. "I can't remember the last time I got a birthday gift, not mentioning a cake."

"That was my intention, to spoil you," he said when she turned her head back to look at him. "Done," he added after a few seconds.

"It's perfect," she told him, correcting the necklace and fully turning towards him. "I had a shitty day, but you just made it a lot better."

"I'm all ears." Michael moved away from her a little, making himself comfortable on the couch.

"You don't want to listen about that. I won't bore you with a family drama."

"You won't bore me," he assured her and when she put down the plate, he pulled her onto his lap. "Talking helps or at least, that's what my therapist says."

"And you agree with him?"

"I think there are better ways to cope," he replied, "but sometimes it's nice to have someone to talk to."

"My brother did something utterly stupid," Phoebe confessed after some time. "He'd asked me to clean his mess, but I refused. I... I didn't feel like helping him, you know? I feel bad I didn't help him, but at the same time... I'm glad I didn't."

"It's not your responsibility to clean up his mess. You shouldn't feel bad about not helping someone who did so many awful things to you."

"But... He's my brother. For years we've been there for each other... I feel as if I was betraying him by denying him my help."

"You're too good, Phoebe." Michael tucked a piece of her hair behind her left ear. "You didn't betray him. You did what was right for you."

"You think so?"

"I do. You're too good to be true," he told her and in response, she initiated the kiss she had been waiting since she saw him on a driveway. She pressed her lips against his, wanting to feel his touch on her. He was not opposing even though he did not expect her to be this eager and needy for him, but he would lie if he said he was not pleased. He was.

He liked the way she was rubbing her against the throbbing bulge in his jeans while remaining glued to his lips. He liked the way her arms were wrapped around his neck when he rolled up her dress to her belly and pulled her skimpy lace panties aside, testing the waters and how far he could go.

Phoebe shifted herself a bit, letting a quiet groan when he slicked his fingers inside. He picked up a pace, adding a thumb to brush her clit and making her lose her mind a moment later. With a spare hand, he helped her to take off her dress then threw it on the floor carelessly. She steadied herself on his shoulders and rested her forehead against his, breathing into his mouth and trying not to moan.

"M-Michael, fuck... Fuck me--"

"Is that what you want?" he mused, sliding his fingers out of her and brushing them against her inner thighs. "With pleasure," he added, pulling his wallet out of his jeans back pocket and reaching for a condom. He ripped the plastic packaging and once his pants were yanked down, he gave himself a few strokes then rolled the rubber on.

He wanted to place her on the back, but she stopped him, keeping him in a place.

"I want to be on top," she told him and a second later after she had positioned his member at her entrance, she slid down on his length, making them both groan from the pleasure.

"F-fuck, baby. Keep going just like that," Michael breathed once she picked a slow, steady rhythm. He watched her going up and down, taking his cock almost completely. "G-god... I didn't... I didn't think we would end up like that."

"And... And what did you expect after spoiling me like a child?" Phoebe tilted back her head and hastened her moves, increasing the pleasure even more.

"For the record, I didn't do...I didn't do any of these things... So you would let me fuck you--ugh," he groaned deeply.

"Oh." Slipped out of Phoebe's mouth. "Then for w-what?"

"Why do you have to ask so many questions?" Michael replied with a question then lifted effortlessly as if she did not weight a pound and placed her on the back before she could protest.

He was in control and he loved it. He set up a quick but uneven pace, pounding in her mercilessly from the right angle, so the only thing she was able to do was moan. Her hands ended up on his back and she dug his fingers into his skin as she came, wriggling beneath his weigh and a few seconds later, he joined her, blowing his load inside of her. It was not the end, though. He did not pull out instantly after he reached his peak. Instead, he leaned for a kiss, a lingering one, and she kissed him back, taken aback by this act of tenderness coming from him. Once he finished, he moved down onto her neck and began sucking the sensitive skin over there and leaving bite marks here and there.

A pain mixed with desire made Phoebe stop thinking rationally again and that was when she blurted: "I-I love you."

And it was something Michael did not expect.

Notes:

Thank you so much for bearing with me... Sticking with me... Reading... It means a world to me. 😊🤍

Chapter 10: The Dark Side Of Fame

Notes:

I want to say that from this chapter on, there will be more 'new' than 'old' things (from the previous version of the story). I don't know about you, but I feel more comfortable with this new version, which is odd. I hope you like it, too (and rewriting it was worth it, hehe). Hope you all are doing good and staying safe. 😊

Chapter Text

“W-what?” Slipped out of Michael’s mouth a second after he had heard Phoebe’s unexpected confession. 

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t—“ Phoebe hurried with an explanation, feeling her cheeks turning dark red, not because of emotions she had just witnessed, but from enormous embarrassment. “I didn’t mean—damn it!” 

“It’s a really poor choice, sweetheart,” he joked, trying to ease this awkward situation between them, but her words, even if said in a heat of the moment were still ringing in his ears. 

I love you.

“I didn’t mean it, Michael,” she told him, knowing it was a lie. Well, not a complete truth, at least. She had feelings for Michael, of course, but she did not love him. It was too early to say she did.

It could not be love. 

“I didn’t mean—Can we forget I said that?”

“Phoebe, I—Give me a second,” he said then pulled away from her. 

“Just forget I said that,” she said and buried her face in her hands, trying to cover her dark red cheeks while Michael hobbled out of the room just to come back a few moments later with his pants back on. “Did I completely ruin the moment we had?”

“No, it’s just… I didn’t expect it,” he told her when he sat back on the couch, “and I still think it’s a poor choice even if it flatters me.” 

Phoebe puffed, ignoring his remark. “Can we just—Out of curiosity, why would that be a bad choice?”

“Let’s say,” Michael started, “I’m not a particularly good person to love. I… I’m not even sure if I deserve to be loved.”

“Why wouldn’t you be?”

“You like digging, don’t you?” 

“Well, yes,” Phoebe agreed then, still in just her underwear, moved closer to him, resting her chin on his shoulder. “So?”

“I... I simply don’t feel worthy of it,” Michael confessed after a long pause. “That’s it.”

“Come on,” she poked his chest. “I’m pretty sure you do,” she stated and quickly realised it could have sounded suggestive, so she added: “I mean, everyone is worthy of love. No exceptions.” 

Michael smiled weakly in response when she looked up at him with her dark, alluring eyes. They were gazing at each other, both in some kind of weird admiration, not knowing what to say, but feeling comfortable in the silence they were in. Her cheeks were no longer red, more like pink, her lips wet as she had licked them a second earlier and Michael could no longer resist temptation when she bit her bottom lip, inviting him for another kiss. 

This one was different from the others they had shared; this one was slow and soppy; they took their time to explore every inch of their lips. 

Phoebe relaxed when he placed a hand on her hips and began stroking it gently; his touch was soothing, calming, so she quickly forgot how embarrassed she had felt a few minutes ago. If it happened with someone else, she would have already left, sneaking out like a coward, but this… This was different.

Her hands wandered to the zipper of his jeans and once they dealt with it, she moved onto the ground and pushed his legs apart. 

“Hey, hey,” Michael reacted quickly, pulling her onto his lap. “Give the old man a break,” he added, but could not hide a smirk that had appeared on his face. 

“Oh, okay, old man,” Phoebe teased, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I won’t tire you anymore tonight,” she said then kissed his cheek lightly. “I’ll call a cab and go home. It’s been a long day.”

“There’s a bed—”

“I know,” she interrupted. “Next time, okay?”

“Alright, I’m ready for round two,” Michael stated just when Phoebe got off him and put her dress back on. 

“Too late, handsome,” she replied then directed her steps towards the front door.

He ran after her and when she managed to open the door, he grabbed her hand, pulling her to him again and she bumped into him.

“I’ll give you a ride,” he offered. 

“Rest, old man,” she fired back. “I’ll be fi—”

Michael smashed his lips against her in another hungry kiss, so she responded, kissing him back and running her fingers in his black hair. They both got lost in a moment and would take things further, again, if it was not for the call that rang in Phoebe’s hand, bringing them both back from cloud nine. 

“It’s Amy,” Phoebe muttered, pulling away from Michael’s lips. “I gotta go. She’s probably worried sick about me—Did you hear that?” She looked around, searching for the sound of weird noise that had reached her ears. 

“I didn't hear anything,” Michael replied briefly then returned to the previous topic. “Tell Amy you’re in good hands and she's got nothing to worry about.” 

“Very funny,” she told him. “Seriously, didn’t you hear it?” she asked him again, wondering if she was that paranoid. 

“I can’t hear anything except your voice, baby.”

“Well, maybe I misheard something. Anyway, I'd better get going,” Phoebe said. “I’ll see you around?” 

“You bet,” Michael responded and waved her goodbye right before she disappeared behind the gate.

He was standing where he stood for a while, even after Phoebe was no longer in his sight, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. He was happy. Simple as that, it was lovely to have someone like her around. She was making him feel like no one else could, giving his miserable life a purpose.

Purpose.

It was something he had been lacking for years. He had a life everyone could dream of, but he was still missing something. He wanted to be valid for someone. He wanted to have someone worth waking up every morning, someone, who was not Tracey or Jimmy. 

He needed someone like Phoebe, even if he had no idea he did until she appeared in his life. She made him feel all the things he had thought he would never feel again.

He felt wanted, and damn, it was something money could not buy.


Sounds of the street were reaching Daniel’s ears as he walked down the lane, late night in Los Santos. Despite the late hours, this city was still full of life. It was never quiet and Daniel was not used to that.

It was not surprising, because the life he had in Sandy Shores was much different. It was calm, slow, predictable - some people would even say it was boring and Daniel shared that opinion. Boredom was one of the reasons he began taking drugs. He was bored. He was unhappy. He did not like his life or even more - he hated it. He used to envy his sister because she had perspectives; she was a smart, hardworking woman and the success was just a matter of time in her case. When she got herself into medical school, their parents were thrilled. She was about to change her whole life and get out of town while he was wasting his youth hanging out with a bunch of fools when he was not helping his dad at work.

At some point, his life began slipping out of his hands. He was slowly losing control, taking more and more drugs and in a blink of an eye, he became an addict, slowly bringing his family down with him.

It started with his mother, Mary, who could not watch her son ruining his life. Then, there was his father's illness that only made the whole situation much worse. They were running out of money because James could not work anymore. The treatment was expensive and that was when Phoebe dropped out of medical school. She came back home, leaving all her dreams behind just to spend the last months of James’ life with him. All her savings were used to make her father’s life a little more bearable; she was buying him medications and everything else he needed back then.

She was his precious daughter till the very last day when he passed away. Phoebe was holding his hand while he breathed out his last breath and Daniel was sure it changed his sister forever.

Phoebe realised what was going on with the rest of her family when it was too late to stop it. Her mother was drinking daily - she spent days downing bottle after bottle. The death of her husband hit her more than she had expected, so she gave completely into her addiction, losing any hope it would ever get better. There was also Daniel, who was not only taking drugs but also selling them and hanging with very dangerous people. All this business was profitable but nasty as hell and Phoebe knew that well. She tried multiple times to pull her brother out of this, especially after their father had died because additional money was no longer needed, but he did not want to listen to her.

He already was too addicted to stop; his life stopped being boring as hell and sometimes, he felt happy. These short moments of happiness kept him going, but at the same time, they were stopping him from having a normal life. He did not care about that, though. He thought that he could stop whenever he wanted to and the fact he was still taking drugs was his choice.

He was so wrong, but he did not know that till the day he did something horrible. He almost killed his sister.

Daniel did not remember much from that day, except for the anger he felt when she told him she was moving out. He did not take it well, knowing his sister and mother was everything he had left.

There was no way he would let her leave and that was when they began arguing. The anger turned into a rage he could not control, so it was easy for him to become brutal. Out of sudden, he saw her all in blood on the kitchen’s floor as he stabbed her with the piece of broken glass.

Phoebe left soon after that, leaving them in two and at the same time, she broke her brother’s heart. He knew he was responsible for it and she had every right to hate him - he was supposed to care for her and mother, but instead, he let his addiction destroy him; he let his addiction destroy what was left of his family. He let his father down, his sister down and probably his mother, but she was too drunk to admit that, anyway.

He wished he could turn back time and never start taking drugs in the first place.

However, it was just wishful thinking. What happened, happened and there was nothing he could do to reverse it, but it did not stop him from wishing that one day he would get his sister back. He desperately wanted to fix his family and be a responsible man his father had always wanted him to be.  It can’t be too late, he kept telling himself and eventually, this thought made him make a pact with the devil himself.

Trevor Philips.

They had been friends... Colleagues for some time in the past. Trevor recruited Daniel into drug dealing and did not mind watching him getting more and more addicted, ruining his life at the same time. Trevor did not care about destroying anyone as long as it was profitable. 

Besides, Daniel did not mind that either, listening to Trevor as if he was a preacher. More, he considered Trevor a friend - he could always count on him in a  need. Trevor pulled him into this business and did his best to keep him in it, making him believe he was good at it. That was also the reason he was the first person who came into Daniel’s head when he needed help.

He decided to ask Trevor a favour. Precisely, he needed his help in bringing Phoebe back home.

Trevor laughed him off at first but then realised how much she mattered to Dan. He would do anything to bring his sister back and Trevor would not miss the opportunity to have some fun. He agreed to help Daniel and found it amusing how far he was willing to go just to fill that empty void in his heart, but he did not share this thought with anyone.

As Trevor assumed, the plan Daniel had did not work out.

“Took you long enough to get here,” Daniel heard Trevor’s voice when he went into one of the dark alleys. “We could deal with it over the phone, you know? There’s no need for such  dramatic  meetings.”

“Isn’t there?” Daniel asked, then looked at the man in worn-out grey joggers and a dirty white t-shirt. “I received a text from my sister and you know what she wrote?  There was nothing I could do,” he quoted. “I asked you for one thing and you couldn’t do that!”

“Fuck you, Dan,” he responded, folding his arms. “It’s not my fault your sister prefers her new guy. Turns out, the bond you two have is not that strong, eh?” Trevor teased.

“What did you just say? What guy?”

“Michael,” Trevor replied. “Never heard of him, did you?”

“The guy she brought to the hospital the other day?”

“I guess? If there was any guy with your sister, it could be him, because they seem to spend a lot of time together. Anyway, I was trying to help you and made her choose. She didn’t even blink when she chose him. It’s obvious he matters more to her than you do and maybe that’s better. You’re a fucking liar,” Trevor pointed his finger at Daniel. “You lied to her. You lied to your mother. You’re lying to everyone, including yourself by thinking you can fix anything!”

Daniel could feel his heart beating faster with every word that was coming out of Trevor’s mouth. His words were painful but true. Daniel did many things wrong, but it did not mean he was a bad man or at least that was what he wanted to believe in. He wanted to believe that despite everything he had done, there was still something good in him; that he was still worth caring for, but he stopped being delusional the moment he realised his sister did not want to help him.

“My job here is done, Daniel,” Trevor said after a moment, dragging him out of his thoughts.

“It’s not done, Trevor,” Daniel hissed and clenched his fists. “You have to help me--” he said, but did not finish as Trevor pushed him against the wall.

“I don’t have to do a thing, so you better watch out how you talk to me!” he snapped. “I’m gonna give you a piece of advice, alright? Make peace with the thought you’re a fucker who ruined his family and let them both go. I know your mother, she’s a good woman...”

“And yet, it didn’t stop you from bringing me into this shit!”

“I didn’t bring you into this. You did,” Trevor fired back.

“Stop whining. Grow up. Be a man or something and get your ass to work, money doesn’t grow on the trees and you still owe me some! Oh, I almost forgot,” he added and without a warning, he punched Daniel in the nose. There had been a crack and a loud whine came out of Dan’s mouth right before his lips got covered up with blood. “Did I break it? Well, at least you’re gonna look convincing if you meet your sister.”

Daniel leaned his back against the wall then slipped onto the ground, holding his nose with a hand and watching Trevor disappearing behind the corner of the building. He moaned when he touched his nose too hard and a few tears fell onto his cheeks. It hurt badly, but he was not sure what caused this pain - was it Trevor’s punch or the thought he did not matter a single thing to Phoebe anymore?

How could she reject him? How could she do that to him?  He had always loved her, he always wanted the best for her, even if he made some mistakes on the way.  It can’t be too late, he repeated in his thoughts and out of sudden, there was only one thought in Daniel’s head, the only one he could focus on: he had to get rid of someone who was no longer convenient.

Michael de Santa.


Phoebe did not sleep well the night after she had returned from Michael's mansion. She spent the whole evening talking on the phone with Amy, telling her about everything that had happened during the last two days and when she finished, she could not find herself a place in her apartment. After an hour of travelling between the bedroom and the kitchen, she ended up lying on the light pink carpet next to her bed.

She was thinking about I love you that had slipped her mouth earlier, about her Daniel, about her mother... Even Trevor crossed her mind, but she quickly drove this thought of him away, coming back to the more pleasant thought of Michael. There was a chance she did not ruin everything between them - at least she hoped she did not scare him away by telling him she loved him, even though she did not mean it. Or did she? No matter what the answer would be, it did not matter. It was too early to say that. It was a mistake. A mistake she could not afford to make twice.

Oh, sometimes she felt like a fool. She felt too much, she cared too deeply and became attached too soon. It was the pattern she loved to repeat, knowing exactly how it would end, but still hoping that this time it would be different. 

But it was always the same.

A tear fell on her cheek and she reached for the blanket from her bed then wrapped herself in it, hoping in the morning she would feel better or at least, less pathetic. 

However, when the morning came, not much changed. Everything was almost the same. Almost, because when Phoebe walked into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee, she received an MMS message from her friend and it would not be something special if it was not a photo of the cover of Stars Talk Weekly... with her and Michael kissing in front of his mansion's door.

ASPIRING MOVIE PRODUCER MICHAEL DE SANTA CAUGHT CHEATING?

Phoebe read the headline and kept staring blankly at the screen of her phone, ignoring the sound of the boiling water in the background.

She could not believe her eyes and the only thing she could think about was that not only she felt like a fool, but also, she was one.

Chapter 11: One Last Favor

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It seemed not to matter at all. 

Everything that happened between Michael and her seemed not to matter at all. She read the headline once again, torturing herself with it and staring at the photo included in the tabloid Amy had sent to her. 

She should have figured it out sooner. She should have known it was a mistake to go into any kind of relationship with a man with a wedding band on his finger. Even if he had claimed his marriage was over. It was so foolish of her to believe this time anything would be different. It was too good to be true. Too good to last longer than it did. 

Phoebe rubbed her eyes, too tired to cry, too tired to do anything except staring blankly at the screen of her phone. 

“Phoebe?” A quiet, but familiar voice reached her ears. “Are you okay?”

“Far from okay, Amy,” she replied, not even turning around to look at her friend and putting down her phone. “How did you—Oh, right. The spare key.” 

“You forgot to lock the doors,” Amy corrected, placing the  Stars Talk Weekly  edition on her kitchen table. “I haven’t used the spare key since I interrupted you and Michael with whatever you two were doing back then. I got a lesson and learned to knock first,” she added then sat down on the chair. 

“Why did you bring me this?” Phoebe asked, pointing her head at the tabloid. “You want me to torture myself even more with an original version of this photo?”

“I thought you may want to read—”

“I don’t. I’ve read the headline and that’s enough.”

“Phoebe, it’s just a picture—”

“No, it’s not just a picture, Amy!” Phoebe blurted a little too angry than she intended. “It’s not just a goddamn picture!” She fell onto the other chair and buried her face in hands. 

Amy had been staring at her friend in silence for a while.

“What happened between you and Michael yesterday?” She was reading Phoebe like an open book and knew something was definitely going on except that picture in the tabloid. “Phoebe?”

“We… We spend an evening together. He bought me a gift, got me a cake and… We had sex.” Phoebe set her eyes on the floor while she spoke. 

“So? What’s the problem?” 

“I don’t do that, Amy! I’ve never  just  slept with anyone before making it  a thing .”

“There’s nothing wrong with that if you both wanted it.”

“We did, but… Damn, it’s so embarrassing,” Phoebe whined. 

“What happened?” Amy asked once more. 

“I… I accidentally told him I loved him and he didn’t say anything back… He was like… He brushed me off, changing the subject as if nothing happened and this morning I saw this,” Phoebe pointed her finger at the tabloid, “and it all made sense. He never wanted this, whatever we both have to be more because he’s… He’s married! He’d lied to me about it…”

“I don’t think he would give you such a gift if he didn’t want  whatever you both have to be more . It must’ve cost a fortune,” Amy leaned over the table and took a closer look at Phoebe’s necklace. “Besides, it’s tabloid—it doesn’t have to be true.”

“I feel like a fool,” Phoebe sighed, propping her elbows on the table. “I feel like a goddamn idiot!”

“I’m so sorry… Even if I don’t like him, I know he… He makes you happy.”

“Not anymore,” Phoebe said firmly. “I’m so done with men trying to make a fool out of me over and over again.”

“I get it, but don’t let this anger you're feeling make you do something stupid—”

“Anger? I’m furious! I want to tell him how much I don’t want to see his lying, but handsome face ever—”

Her phone vibrated on the table, interrupting her before she could finish a sentence. She carefully peeked at the screen, not being very surprised when she saw  Michael  calling her.

Who else could it be?

“Looks like you have the chance to tell him how you feel,” Amy stated, patting her friend’s arm. “Good luck with that,” she added then stood up, ready to leave. “I ain't gonna distracting you.”

Once Amy left, Phoebe took a moment to stare at the screen again, clenching her fingers around her white iFruit and wondering what to do.

Out of sudden, she was not so sure what she wanted to say to him and if she wanted to say anything at all. 

To pick or not to pick, that was the question.


You deserve nothing, but best, honeybun. Remember that. 

James Harris had always been repeating these words to his precious daughter. She was his everything, so he was ready to give her the world if she asked for it. It was the father’s love in the purest form, but he had never hidden the fact his daughter was the most important person in his life. 

He loved both of his kids, but Phoebe was his favourite. He treated her as if she was not only his daughter but also his friend. The father-daughter relationship they had was something special. Something that could not be replaced by anything in the world. 

The worst part of being a father, no matter how great this experience was in general, was that he knew one day, his little girl would grow up. She would fall in love with some other man and leave her old man alone.

There was nothing wrong with that, of course. It was a natural thing for children to grow up, moving out and starting a new life on their own. However, in his case, the biggest fear was who would replace him by his daughter side.

Every guy she ever dated as a teen and a young adult was a fool. A fool, because James could not find another word for guys she was seeing. None of them could raise up to his expectations and prove himself to be worthy of his daughter. 

However, was it not a typical thing to do for a father to be overprotective of his daughter? 

“Where are we heading today?” Phoebe asked, making herself comfortable on the passenger seat in her father’s old, red pickup they always used to take on the road trips.

“We’ll see,” the man replied, his eyes focused on the road. “You always ask me that question, honeybun and the answer is always the same.”

“I’m just making sure there were no last-minute changes,” she told him, turning her head towards him. “I have to be back home before 7 p.m.”

“Why?” he asked, raising his right brow questioningly. "You have a date or something?"

“Maybe. Do you have something against it?” She leaned her right arm against the seat, so she could look at her father while he kept driving. “I promise, he’s a good guy—”

“Don’t get me wrong, baby, but I think not any guy is good enough for you," he interrupted his daughter. "You deserve nothing but the best, remember? You can’t blame me for wanting the best for my precious daughter.” 

“I don’t blame you,” she responded, “but sometimes I feel… I feel as if the only “good enough” option was staying with you forever.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” he chuckled, “but I know one day someone’s gonna steal your heart and it won’t matter what I say or not.”

“It will always matter what you say,” Phoebe countered. “There’s no other man like you in my life, dad. I doubt anyone will be able to take your place.”

“Oh, I’m sure someone will,” James looked at her daughter for a split-second. “You’re gonna make some man very happy one day. I hope he’s gonna take good care of you, but if he won’t, leave him. As I said…”

“I deserve nothing but the best,” Phoebe finished for him. “I remember.” 

“Good girl,” he said. “When I was dating your mother, your grandpa was even more protective of her than I am of you. I had to really prove myself in front of him...”

“You’ve told me this story a hundred times, dad,” Phoebe replied. “In my case, no one will have to prove himself yet. I’m just dating this guy, not planning on marrying him.”

“Thank god,” James chuckled, “you’re way too young for marriage. Twenty-four year old... I wish I could be that young once again.”

"Oh I bet you do", Phoebe thought to herself and smiled gently at him while her father turned on the radio where "Burning down the house" by Talking Heads was being played. With the corner of her eye, she could see her father moving to the rhythm and singing single lines of that song, even though he could not sing at all.

They continued driving without talking for a few minutes, enjoying each other's company, before her father asked, not being able to stop his curiosity:

“So, are you gonna tell your old man something more about this new guy of yours?”

Here he went, again.


Pick up, pick up, pick up.

Michael was repeating in his thoughts as he kept his cellphone right next to his ear, waiting to hear her voice in it. 

Goddamn tabloid

He sighed when she did not pick up at the first try, leaning his back against the sofa and groaning when he realised how big was the mess he was in. 

When he was with her, he let himself forget about this whole  aspiring movie producer  thing. He did not expect any paparazzo to be around. He let his guards down and let himself enjoy this moment with her. Little did he know that would be the price for his recklessness. 

The cover of  Stars Talk Weekly

He called her number again, hoping she would eventually pick up her phone. She had to pick up even if it was just for telling him to fuck off at some point. 

Another failure. 

It was bad. 

It was bad when Solomon then Michael's manager called him this morning to ask what the hell was that supposed to mean. They also asked him whether he was aware of the fact that photo leaks like this one could harm his career badly.

Of course, he was aware. How could he not be? Everyone had been repeating to him how important reputation is in this brand. It was the reason why he did not want to let his divorce go public as long as it was not completely finished. He did not expect this whole  divorce  thing to last so long, though. Amanda did not make it easy for him, especially when she realised there were some complications with marital property. 

She wanted it to split half and half, but Michael was far from agreeing on her proposition. Everything they had was because of him, so he could not let her go with half of it. 

It did not change the fact that in his eyes, this marriage was done. It was just a matter of figuring it out in front of the law. Then, they would never have to bear with each other again. 

Michael wished Phoebe had known all these things the moment she saw the cover of the tabloid. She must have seen it already, considering she was not picking up. 

Fuck.

She had to know he did not lie to her on purpose. He did not tell her the whole truth, because who would tell the story of his life on the first date… First meeting. He would tell her all about it one day, but back then, he had no idea he would like her this much. 

He had no idea things would go this far. 

He tried calling her again, biting on his thumbnail and waiting for her to pick up. 

Pick up, pick up, pick up.

“What do you want?” He heard her voice on the phone and simultaneously let out the sigh of relief. 

“Phoebe, I’ll explain—please, let me explain,” he started, searching for the right words and weighing each one of them.

“What is there to explain, Michael? You want to explain that you’re married? I know that already—”

“No,” he denied. “I’m not married—theoretically I am, but—”

“I don’t want to hear your explanations. Are you married or not?” She asked and from her tone, Michael could not tell a thing. She was speaking firmly, not letting him know whether she was angry or sad. 

“I’m married, but—”

“No  buts .”

Silence. 

Neither of them knew what to say. Michael could not find words, an excuse good enough to tell her, so he decided to go the way he rarely used. He rarely apologised, but this time, it seemed like the only right option to him.

“I’m so sorry, Phoebe. I wish you found out about it from me, not from a fucking tabloid.”

“I guess it doesn’t make much difference now,” she sighed deeply. “I should go, Michael. Goodbye—”

“No, don't go--wait!” he blurted then cursed soundlessly under his breath and clenched his right fist. “Wait a minute…”

“For what? You got another lie to treat me with?” Phoebe’s voice changed to pissed. “I don’t have time for that.”

“No, no. See, I work with Salomon Richards, you know the co-producer of  Meltdown … I know you probably don’t want to see me, but he called me this morning after seeing the cover of  Stars Talk Weekly  and… I’m sure you know how important the reputation is in Vinewood,” Michael paused for a moment then took a deep breath. “We had a rather unpleasant conversation and I need to ask you to do something for me.”

“I don’t have to do anything for you,” she replied. 

“I know you don't, but I thought… Considering I saved your life once… Will you do me a favour and save mine?” It was like a shot in the dark, but he was willing to take this risk. He had not much to lose, anyway.

Silence, disturbed only by a loud sigh after a few seconds. 

“What favour?”

“There’s a premiere of a new Salomon’s movie in two days. Red carpet, media, a lot of famous people. I need you to come there with me.”

“As plus one? Don’t you have a wife to go with?” Michael could sense a dose of irony in Phoebe’s voice. 

“If you let me explain earlier, I would tell you that we… We could not get along with some of the divorce matters. She and I are still married, but only on the paper and not for long now. There’s nothing more between us,” he explained. “My manager says it would help if paparazzi saw us together again… It would be… Less awkward and would certainly stave off unpleasant rumours about us.”

“There’s no us, Michael,” she fired back then paused. “Fine,” she said after a while. “I’ll go with you, but just because I feel as if I owned you this. After it’s done, we’re done, so you can tell your manager to start thinking of better solutions to the problems you create.”

“Great. I will text you the details,” Michael replied. “Phoebe, once again, I’m so—”

She hung up.

“Fuck!” he cursed, tossing his phone aside and burying his face in his hands.

He was in a big mess and there was one to blame but him. 

Notes:

Hi! I know it's not the longest chapter I've ever posted, but at least I posted it... Pretty soon? So, I hope it can make up for the length. Also, I realised I feel better in writing shorter chapters - my time for the longer ones will come, but it's not today. 😉

Anyway, as always, thank you for reading. 💖 (and for bearing with me, lol)

Chapter 12: In The Spotlight

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

I can’t believe I’m doing this,  Phoebe thought to herself once she got out of the shining, black limousine that had stopped in front of Oriental Theatre. She took a deep breath and fixed her hair, tucking the strand of her dark brown, wavy hair behind her right ear. 

Fashionably late  she was, but as it turned out, everyone was. It must have been a thing in this whole Vinewood world - never be on time and always make a great entrance.

Everyone seemed so famous to Phoebe while she walked, searching for her partner for the night in the crowd. Everyone was dressed up so fancy, she was suddenly grateful that Michael had set up a hairdresser and makeup artist for her, even though she had claimed she would be fine on her own. He also took care of both of their outfits, so the only thing she had to do was come and be with him that night.

She had to do so little and so much at the same time.

So much, because for the past two days she had been torn, thinking whether she was making the right choice by agreeing to help him. It was so much because, despite everything, she was hurt. She hated being lied to. She rarely lied, knowing lies would always come to the light and, in the end, they would do more harm than the truth. She preferred the truth - no matter how horrible it would be, it would not be as bad as the most beautiful lie. 

Ironically, she was lying to herself the moment she noticed Michael standing a few feet away from her, dressed to kill in one of the most elegant black suits she had ever seen, laughing at something Salomon told him. She was lying to herself, trying to convince herself she did not feel a single thing, not even a tiny bit of sympathy towards him, but she failed. 

She was never good at pretending.

She was never good at fooling herself, but this time, she had to be tough and instead of following her heart, she followed her mind or at least, she tried.

One last favour.

“You look stunning in this dress,” Michael complimented her once he approached her a few moments later. She looked down, biting her bottom lip and trying to avoid his sight. “Red suits you.”

“Thank you,” she responded automatically. “You took care of every detail, so it’s all your merit. I just had to sit down and let all these stylists do the job,” she paused. “You’ve got a taste… I mean, the dress, they told me you’d picked it, too.”

“You can’t get wrong with a long, satin, red dress.” His lips curled into a smirk. “Shall we?” he asked, then offered her his hand. She hesitated, giving him a questioning look at first. “It’s just for the pictures,” he added. “I know the rules. You made them very clear.”

“Did I?” 

“You’re doing me a favour by being here,” Michael explained. “I already told my manager to start working on better solutions to the endless amount of problems I create.”

“Well, at least you listened to what I said,” Phoebe marked, letting him hold her hand gently as they began walking together on the red carpet, quickly getting blinded by camera flashes.

Phoebe could not see a thing due to the reflectors' light, so she instinctively moved closer to Michael, smiling and pretending she was just fine. She heard their names being shouted by paparazzi, so she turned towards the source of the sound and at the same moment, a female reporter approached them, holding a mic in one of her hands.

“Mister de Santa, can we ask you a few questions our readers are dying to know answers for?” she asked, putting a mic in front of Michael’s face before he could even agree. 

“I, um—” He looked at Phoebe and she looked back at him not really knowing what to do, so she nodded, letting him know to do what he had to. “Sure.”

“We’re aware that it’s a movie premiere, but after the events from the past few days and you getting on the cover of  Stars Talk Weekly  with your beautiful companion,” the interviewer peeked in Phoebe’s direction, “our readers are extremely curious is your wife aware of the relationship you two have?”

“Ex-wife,” Michael corrected her quickly, “and no, she’s not aware, because it’s not my ex-wife’s concern who I am seeing with.”

“Alright. Now a quick question for your companion,” she turned to Phoebe. “Is your  thing  with Michael something more or it’s rather…  Fleeting  relationship?”

Phoebe did not know what to reply. At that moment, surrounded by dozens of reflectors and paparazzi, she could only think about getting out of this situation quickly. She looked at the interviewer questioningly, searching for any response she could have told her when Michael stepped in and, like a knight in shining around, rescued her from explaining her feelings publicly.

“Her relationship with me is what she wants it to be,” he told the reporter. “Now excuse us.” Then, he pulled Phoebe with him and they did not stop until they reached the entrance of the theatre. 

“I’m so sorry for that,” Michael said to Phoebe once held the door for her and she walked inside the Oriental Theatre. 

“It’s okay,” she responded, “you didn’t know she would be this nosy.” She sent him a light smile. “I don’t think I’m a fan of red carpets, anyway. It’s exhausting.”

“It’s not always that bad. Well, it’s way easier when they don’t ask you awkward questions. You just have to walk, smile and pose for pictures.” 

“I bet.”

They were gazing at each other for a moment until Michael realised he was getting too comfortable and looked aside, trying to act natural, but he could not, not when she was around and smiled at him. He had been behaving recklessly since he met her, making mistake after mistake.

“The movie is about to start in a few minutes,” he pointed, escaping her sight and was about to walk away when she held his hand again. 

“Hey, wait a second.” She stopped him from running away from her. “We have to keep up appearances,” she explained and they started walking side by side, holding each other’s hand, “and make them believe we’re here together, right?”

“Right,” he nodded, without arguing with her statement. In fact, a part of him wished she had been here with him not only because he had asked her to and she was simply repaying the favour. 

Phoebe, on the other hand, wished she had been there with him just because of that.


“Phoebe? Can I come in?” James asked, opening the doors of her daughter’s room slightly. “Honeybun, you haven’t eaten anything since you got back home yesterday.”

“I’m not hungry, dad,” she murmured, wrapping herself in the blanket, “and I don’t really want to talk right now—” Her voice cracked and tears streamed down her cheeks. “Go away.”

“Oh, baby, there’s no way I’m gonna leave you like that,” the man said, then took a seat next to her on the bed, wrapping his arm around her.

She sobbed when she hugged her father tightly, burying her face in his chest. The man hugged her back without saying a word - he waited. No matter what had happened, she had to cry it out and he intended to be there for her, no matter what. No matter how bad he felt seeing his daughter crying her eyes out on him. 

“What happened, Phoebe?” 

No reply at first. 

Then, after a minute or two, she asked: “Have you ever had your heart broken?”

“Oh, dear heart…” James stroked the back of her head. “Of course, I have.”

Phoebe pulled back and looked at him with her puffy eyes. The warm smile, big green eyes, the wrinkles on the forehead and strands of dark brown hair on it were significant features of her father’s look. Whenever she was looking at him, she felt safe. 

She felt home. 

“Why are you asking me that?”

“I think I got my heart broken,” she sobbed, “and it’s all my fault. I keep pushing people away till they eventually leave.” She looked down then shook her head slowly. “I grew up thinking I deserve someone amazing, but now... I’m not so sure about it anymore.”

“Phoebe, no one is perfect,” her father chuckled. “Even the best people make mistakes.”

“But… But you’ve always told me that I deserve best...” She seemed confused. 

“Best doesn’t mean flawless, sweetheart. You can’t push people away because they make mistakes,” James responded then, he sighed deeply. “You have to know when to forgive or walk away when people hurt you, but… Don’t push them away in advance.”

“I guess it makes sense,” she laughed through the tears, making it sound miserable. “Oh, god… Will I ever learn? Or will I keep making the same mistakes over and over again?”

“It usually takes some time and a few broken hearts,” James said, “but you will learn.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I just am.”


Phoebe did not remember much from the movie. 

She could not focus, but no matter how badly she tried, Michael’s right hand resting on her left knee for the whole show was too much of a distraction. 

He must have taken this whole  keep up appearances  thing way too seriously, but Phoebe did not dare to brush his hand off her. For a moment, she forgot she was even mad at him. At some point, she even placed her head on his shoulder and indulged in the scent of his cologne and smelling bergamot mixed with lavender.

Then, at the after-party, Michael could not step away from her, holding her hand with his as if they were glued to each other and letting it go off only when he was going to get them something to drink.

“There you go,” he said, handing her another Martini. She mouthed silent  thank you  as she took a glass from him and was ready to listen to the continuation of his story. “So, about the movie—” 

“Michael!” Salomon called him, interrupting him in the middle of the sentence. Then, he approached them both, eyeing Phoebe from the bottom to the top. “Isn’t she too pretty for you, my friend?” he snickered. “You, pretty lady, look like a million dollars.” 

“Thank you, mister Richards,” she replied politely. 

“Oh, call me Salomon,” he told her, sending her a seductive smile that Michael definitely noticed. “I was watching you two from afar and I just could not take my eyes off you, dear. I’m sure Michael shares my opinion that you’re simply stunning.”

Phoebe could feel Michael’s hand tightening on hers while he gave Salomon a pissed look. 

“I can’t believe someone like you is not in the industry, Phoebe. You’ve got the body of a model and one of the prettiest smiles Vinewood had ever witnessed,” Salomon kept complimenting her. “Have you ever tried modelling?”

“No. I’ve never had a chance and—”

“You definitely should,” he interjected. “You would have more opportunities to show up with Michael and a career you could use to make a living. I don’t know where he found you, but you're pure gold and I really think he could use someone like you by his side.”

“It’s extremely kind of you, Salomon, but I’m not really interested in modelling,” Phoebe said, trying to remain as polite as possible. 

“Think about it, okay? My people will contact you in a few days to get an answer.” Salomon winked at her and she could see this angry look on Michael’s face.

“Will do,” she sent him a shy smile. “Excuse me for a moment,” she told both of the men, sliding her hand out of Michael’s. She headed straight to the bar, downing the Martini Michael had brought for her earlier on her way. 

“Hi, can I get another one?” she asked the bartender once she leaned against the counter. 

The bartender did not reply; instead, he took a quick look at her and smirked, then, a few moments later, he placed another Martini in front of her. “Thanks,” she said to him quickly then took a big sip. 

What am I doing , Phoebe thought as she brushed back her hair. She was enjoying this night more than she should have, forgetting about the fact that she was mad at Michael in the first place. She might not have shown it, but Salomon’s words were truly flattering and what was even more satisfying, she saw Michael’s reaction when his boss complimented her. 

She smiled gently at the thought of him being jealous. It meant he cared and she, even if she had been pissed at him for lying to her, she wanted him to care. 

She sighed deeply.

This whole thing was complicated. She spent the last two days thinking whether she had not overreacted at first when she found out about his lie. What if she was too harsh on him, shutting him down before he could even give her a proper explanation? 

She was getting fooled by her emotions, once again and tried to justify other’s actions at all cost. 

You have to know when to forgive or walk away when people hurt you, but… Don’t push them away in advance.

Are you okay?” Michael asked, scaring her when he approached her from behind unexpectedly. 

“Yeah, I… I just needed a break from all of this,” she responded, turning towards him. “How about you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Listen, I… I want to apologise for Salomon. He can be a little bit… Importunate.”

“It’s alright. I was dealing with worse than him,” Phoebe smirked, “but thank you for checking up on me.”

“Sure,” Michael nodded. “So, what do you think about this whole modelling thing?” 

“Actually… I don’t know. I’m not a model, Michael. Never been one,” she smiled, rolling up her eyes. “As I said, I’ll think about it, but… It’s not likely.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

“Okay?” she repeated. “That’s all you have to say?” 

“Yeah. Do what you feel like,” he replied. “Speaking of feelings… Do you feel like dancing with me?” He held out his hand to her. 

“What? Here?” Phoebe could not hide her surprise.

“Yes, here. Look around, some people are dancing, too,” he pointed his head at some couple who was slow dancing in the corner. “May I have this dance?”

“Dancing was not a part of the deal,” Phoebe marked.

“I know,” Michael countered. “I’m just trying my luck.” 

He had a nerve, Phoebe thought and smiled, shaking her slowly. Michael was still holding his hand out to her while the slow, smooth jazz music was playing in the background - how could she turn down such an offer?

After a moment of consideration, realising she had crossed the boundaries she had set for herself a long time ago, she took his hand and Michael pulled her out with him on the dance floor. He spun her around gently, making sure she ended up with her back on against his chest and with her forearms crossed under her ribs as he was now holding both of her hands in his.

He pulled her close enough to let her feel his warm breath on her neck and his chin on her right shoulder when he rested it there a few seconds later. 

“We’re more swinging than dancing,” Phoebe tilted her head back and said to Michael’s ear.

“It’s called slow dancing,” Michael chuckled, tangling his fingers with hers. “Don’t you like it?”

“Well, it’s not really demanding,” she replied, smiling gently. “I thought you want to actually dance like… Tango or something.”

“Do I look like someone who can dance, Phoebe?” 

“Is that a rhetorical question?” She let out a small chuckle.

“Bingo.”

They kept swinging for a while, keeping their bodies close to each other and enjoying this moment when the whole world seemed not to exist at all. Phoebe seemed to forget everything that had happened, letting her heart take over control again. She looked down at her hands covered by Michael’s and quickly noticed something was missing.

“Where’s your wedding band?”

“Oh, I forgot to put in on,” he explained briefly and she puffed in response. “What?”

“Nothing,” she responded. “I thought you took it off for me,” she teased.

“Would you like that?” 

“Maybe,” she continued her teasing. Then, she carefully untangled her fingers from his and turned around, placing her hands on his shoulders. “I think I’ll call it a night, Mike.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty late. I’ll call us a cab,” Michael offered, stopping and pulling his phone out of the pocket of his trousers. 

“Us?” Phoebe repeated, but Michael shushed her with a hand gesture as the taxi operator picked up his call. Once he was done, she repeated her question and in response, she received:

“You didn’t think I would let you go home alone at night?”

She did not argue with him. She was too tired to argue and her legs were hurting badly from the high heels; it has been a while since she spent this long on heels and out of sudden, she felt a sharp pain spreading through her left thigh. 

If it was not for Michael being by her side, she would certainly have collapsed, but instead, she hung onto his shoulder, trying to catch a balance.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned, then wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her to stand. 

“My leg loves to remind me of itself at the worst possible moments,” Phoebe frowned, feeling the throbbing pain all over her thigh. “Heels don’t help, either.”

“Maybe you want to sit down for a bit?” Michael offered, disturbed by the pain painted all over her face. 

“No--I’m fine,” she breathed out, barely standing on her feet. “If you could just help me get to the cab…”

“God, you’re such a bad liar,” he told her, grabbing her under the ribs and helping her walk.

They got through the crowd and once they walked outside, Michael carried her down the stairs, then continued helping her hobbling by his side until they reached the cab. She was stubborn and did not let him convince her it would be easier if he carried her, saying she got this; she was too proud to let him do that, anyway. 

The road to her place was fast and again, she did not remember much of it as she nestled up against Michael on the backseat, trying to think about anything else than the relentless pain. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you climb these stairs,” Michael stated once they stopped in front of the building Phoebe was living in and without a warning he lifted her, not accepting any word of objections coming out of her mouth. 

“You didn’t have to--I would manage to get here on my own,” Phoebe said when they were already upstairs. 

“I’m sure you would,” he laughed. “You would be here, I don’t know, in the morning?”

“Not funny,” she told him, but after a moment, she also laughed. 

Then, there was silence. A silence that could mean nothing good. A silence that made them both wonder what had just happened, so now they were standing and staring at each other as if it was their last meeting.

In fact, it was supposed to be their last meeting.

“So...” Michael started, feeling his throat running dry the second he began speaking. “Thank you for helping me tonight. It means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome,” she said quietly. “I… I had a good time.”

“I’m glad you did,” he fired back. “I-um… I wanted to say I’ll see you around, but considering you clearly said once this night is done we’re--”

“Don't... Stop talking,” she interrupted him. “I don’t know what it is about you, but… I’ll see you around, Michael de Santa.” She smiled under her breath then shook her head after she had spoken the last words, surprising them both with her statement. “I have one condition, though. Don’t ever lie to me again.”

“I won’t,” he told her, feeling a huge weight falling off his shoulders. “I promise.”

And right after he had promised that to her, he realised this promise was already broken.

Notes:

I don't know what to say except that I can't believe I'm posting a chapter with a decent length this soon. 🤭

Chapter 13: Then And Now

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Silence.

Bitter tears were streaming down Phoebe’s cheeks when she was sitting by her father’s side on the hospital bed, holding his left hand tight in hers. The minutes felt like hours and the feeling of hopelessness was getting unbearable. 

There was nothing she could do. 

Nothing she would have done would help his father now. It was too late. 

It was almost done.

She wiped the tears away from her cheeks with the sleeve of her grey sweater, realising crying would not help at all either. She took another look at her father’s peaceful face; he was unconscious, but she was pretty sure he could still hear her, so she whispered:

“I love you so much, dad.”

And the tears fell on her cheeks again.

“Phoebe?” Someone asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

“I need my father to get out of this,” she responded, touching the hand on her shoulder with hers and glancing at the man who had approached her. 

“You know there’s nothing we can do…”

“I know, Murphy,” she interjected, “but you asked me what I need.”

The man did not reply. He kept staring at her painfully for a while; there was nothing right he could say at that moment, nothing that would make her feel better, but he had to say something, not being able to maintain this deadly silence disturbed only by the sounds made by the ECG machine.

“Your father was one of the best doctors I’ve ever known,” he started quietly. “We’ve been working with each other for years and… I wish I could do something to help.” Murphy sighed, brushing back his greyed hair. “I’m sure he’s so proud of you following his steps, you know? You’re gonna be an amazing doctor, just like your father.”

“I don’t know about that,” she sobbed. “What’s the point of all these… If I can’t help him now?”

“Phoebe… It’s not your fault. Pancreatic cancer, it’s...”

“I want to be alone with my dad, Murphy. That’s all I want now.” 

A moment later she was alone in the hospital room, left just with her thoughts. There was no hope left. It was just a matter of time; a matter of days, hours or minutes. She could not precisely say how long it would take, but she knew that it was all coming to an end. All these years of her father’s suffering were about to end. 

Soon, he would be at peace.

Phoebe reached out for her phone and dialled her mother, not really knowing what she expected when the woman did not pick up. She dialled her brother, but again, there was no response. 

She cursed under her breath, realising it should not have looked like this. She should not have been there on her own while the rest of her family was nowhere to be found or reached. 

However, she couldn't care less about them when ECG’s beat slowed down then, after a while, flatlined, filling the whole hospital room with this dreadful sound. 

She froze, letting a single tear fall on her left cheek and a silent cry escaped her mouth. The pain fulfilled her chest and suddenly, she could not breathe, choking with sobs. With a corner of her eye, she noticed Murphy walking to the room again, but he did not dare to approach her this time. 

And then, her phone rang and with a shaking hand she picked it up.

“Y-yes?” she stuttered. “Dan? N-no, stop with your fucking excuses… What h-happened? Are you really asking me that?” She took a breath, trying to calm down enough to say:

“Dad’s dead.”


Michael was lying by the pool, enjoying the warm afternoon sun on his skin and the whiskey that he was holding in his left hand. There was not much going on for the past few days, so he could spend his days like that - doing nothing much, but thinking a lot. 

After the night with Phoebe, he realised how badly he was caught up in his lies. Countless times Amanda called him a liar , Trevor called him a liar , but he did not listen to them, trying to justify his actions any other way than calling it lying. However, he could not justify his actions now.

He felt ashamed of what he had done, but then, he realised that was who he was. A liar . Shame it took him so long to figure it out, hurting so many people on his way. 

He was so caught up in his lies that trying to fix them would cause a disaster. His whole life was built upon lies or at least, the last ten years. He got so used to lying, he forgot that telling the truth could be even more beneficial. On the other hand, it was hard to blame him - the lies were the reason he and his family were alive - at some point, he was forced to lie to keep going; to make his family and him safe.

At some point, he was no longer willing to lie, but he could not stop and when the truth came to the light, everything went down.

Michael was pretty sure that if Phoebe found out about what he had done to her, she would hate him. She would hate him in a blink of an eye, realising their whole relationship was built on a goddamn lie.

He should have told her the truth at the very start. He should have told her the truth when he had a chance and especially when he was not so emotionally involved in whatever they both had.

There was no chance he would tell her about it now, not when she just gave him a second chance and things were going just fine between them.

He fell into the trap he had set. 

There was a possibility Phoebe would never know about his lie. He had managed to live in a lie for 9 years before Trevor found out the truth about what happened in North Yankton. Nine years. For nine years he managed to keep his secrets, including the one about his best friend being dead instead of him. No one knew. No one would have known if it had not been for the stupid coincidence. Bad place, bad time. 

For a second, he was thinking about the influence of coincidence on his life and the fact it was not always the bad influence. 

He accidentally met Phoebe and she, whether she wanted it or not, changed his life. She changed him enough to make him question his choices and the way he had been living until he met her. 

Maybe Trevor was right. Maybe it was high time to do the right thing and tell her the truth. 

But then, he realised that he was simply afraid of losing her. If this sense of guilt was the price he had to pay to be around her, he was willing to pay it. 

He was ready to do anything to avoid Phoebe hating him for the rest of her life. 

Fuck you, Michael! ” 

He heard an angry voice of his ex-wife followed by a splash of water on his face. 

“What the fuck, Amanda?!” He jumped to his feet, wiping his eyes and giving her a pissed look. “Have you lost your mind completely?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She threw at him the Stars Talk Weekly magazine with him and Phoebe on the cover. “Not mentioning your interview on the last premiere at Oriental Theatre,” she continued once he put down the tabloid. “You ruined my career—”

“As if you ever had one!” Michael interrupted her in the middle of the sentence. “What are you even doing here? You came all the way from wherever you were just to splash water on my face, throw a goddamn tabloid on me and tell me I,” he pointed both his pointing fingers on himself, “ruined something that never existed?”

“I came because whether you like it or not, I’m still your fucking wife and I demand some respect from you!” she yelled. “You’ve been sleeping with whores for years, but bringing them to our house? It’s not even about this cover! Your daughter told me everything!”

“It’s not your house since you moved out a few months ago and from that time you’ve been dropping by only to play on my nerves!” Michael could feel his blood boil in his veins as he clenched his fists. “You demand respect, eh? Where was your respect when you were bringing your loverboys to our bed?!” 

“Don’t even start, Michael—”

“Start what? You’re the one coming here and trying to tell me I’m the one guilty of every single thing! Bullshit!” he grumbled. “The person who should have some respect is you! I offered you a good deal and wanted to do this whole divorce thing peacefully, but no! You rejected it and now, you’ve got the nerve to come here, to MY house and whine about me ruining your career when you have no career, Amanda! All your fame is built on you having my surname after your name!”

“Who is this woman?” she asked in a cold, harsh tone, even though her face was furious. “Was it worth ruining everything we had as a family for a goddamn whore?”

“Don't call her that ever again,” Michael hissed. “Why do you even bother? Our family has been ruined for years, Mandy. Our marriage has been ruined for years, so don’t play a victim here and don’t try to make me feel guilty for something that happened a long time ago…”

Amanda huffed, shaking her head slowly. “So, that’s what it’s about,” she said, and he furrowed his brows. “She’s not just a hooker for you.” It was rather a statement than a question followed by a period of silence when she noticed the lack of a wedding band on Michael’s finger. “Who do you think you are, Michael? Let me tell you. You're a mid-aged, pathetic man who thinks he found himself a girl worth the trouble. I hate to break it to you, husband, but the moment she realizes what kind of man you are, she will leave you. You have to be aware of that, right? There’s no sane woman who would want a man like you. Everywhere you go, the chaos follows and it drags others in—”

“So what are you still doing here?” Michael hissed through clenched teeth. “You like being in the centre of chaos?”

“I’ve been in the centre of it for years. That’s why I’m sorry for her,” Amanda taunted. “Poor little girl has no idea what she got herself into.”

It was too much. 

Michael heard enough from her and was not willing to hear a word more. He had never hurt any woman in his life before, but at this very particular moment, he was close to crossing his boundaries. Amanda was playing with him, testing how far she could go before he would lose it all.

“Sign those fucking divorce papers and get out of my life or else…” he muttered, trying his best to stay calm.

“Or else what? You’re gonna get rid of me just like you did with your best friend or anything else that’s inconvenient in your life? You’re gonna get rid of me, the mother of your children?” Amanda teased, balancing at the edge of Michael’s patience. “I won’t sign the papers unless it’s fifty-fifty. I won’t let you fuck me over ever again.”

“You’re walking on thin ice, Amanda. Very thin ice,” Michael murmured, “and you’re gonna regret it.”

“Don’t threaten me, even though it’s so like you. It’s your choice what you’re gonna do now,” she shrugged then turned around. “Goodbye, husband ,” she added in her fake honeyed voice and showed him a middle finger while she was walking away, moving her hips from the left to the right in way too tight yoga pants and a short white top. 

Michael cursed under his breath then, he grabbed the glass he had put down before Amanda came to see him or rather make him lose his temper again. With one, angry move he smashed it against the ground, making it fall into hundreds of tiny pieces. 

He was screwed. 

Amanda would not make it easier for him at all, but at the same time, he knew her days of victory are counted. 

He had someone to fight for now and this time, he did not plan to lose.


For the past few days, Phoebe had been busy. 

She needed some time to process everything that had happened during the past few weeks and how much all these things affected her and her life at the same time. She thought of that in the mornings when she opened up her eyes and once she took her phone in her hand, there was already a good morning message from Michael waiting for her. 

He had been doing his best since he walked her home that night, after the premiere. However, Phoebe knew better not to rush anything this time and gave them both some time to figure things out on their own. 

Besides, she liked the place where they were in at the moment. 

Still, they had a lot to talk about. All in time, though. 

There were more urgent matters Phoebe had to take care of first, such as searching for a new job after she had spectacularly lost her previous one. 

Goddamn Joe.

Phoebe called Amy to tell her about what had happened at the premiere then mentioned the offer she received from Solomon and her friend could not be more excited about this. She was probably more excited than Phoebe herself, trying to convince her friend to go for it. 

“Why won’t you just give it a try? You have no idea how many women would like to be in your place right now!” Amy said over the phone. “I’m pretty sure they pay more for a photo session than in any cafe in this city.”

“I’m not a model,” Phoebe countered. “I have no experience, skills, nothing—”

“It’s because you have never tried it before! Come on! If they wanted someone skilled, they would hire a supermodel. They want someone pretty and that you are.”

And so, after a call Phoebe received from Solomon’s manager, she decided to give it a try, not really knowing what she was getting herself into. 

“Make it look...seductive! Part your lips gently and look at me the way you look at someone you… like,” she was listening to the instructions given by the photographer and followed, her thoughts wandering to the very first person that came to her mind. 

Michael.

She recalled her favourite memory with him when they kissed in her apartment for the first time, letting all these fuzzy feelings fill her up. “Keep it up like that!” A voice of the photographer dragged her out of her thoughts. “Few more shots and we’re done!”

A few more minutes and it would be done , Phoebe thought. I can do that.  

Again, she focused on posing and looking as good as possible in the black, tight, one-piece bodysuit with long sleeves they had dressed her in. She tilted her head and brushed back her hair, setting her eyes on the camera when she heard We got it! being shouted at her by the photographer after a few more seconds. 

“You really did it for the first time?” he asked her once he approached her to show her a few shots he had taken of her. “I don’t know how I’ll pick the best ten. See that?” He pointed at the small screen on his camera. “That’s the first photo I took after I’d told you to go think about someone you like and look at the difference. Good job.”

“Thanks,” Phoebe replied and smiled shyly. 

“Come on, Tony, don’t flatter her so much.” A woman a little bit older than Phoebe, probably another model, approached them from the other side of the studio. “She wouldn’t even be here if she wasn’t Richards’ protégée.”

“It doesn’t mean she can’t look good in photos, Lydia,” the man bit back. “Don’t care about her,” Tony turned to Phoebe. “She’s permanently mean for no reason.”

“Me? Mean?” Lydia snorted. “I’m just telling you all how things are. Oh, next time try to, I don’t know, suck Solomon’s dick better or something and maybe he’s gonna give you a role in his next movie. That’s why you’re here, right?” 

“No, but I’ll take your words to the heart,” Phoebe told her, faking a smile. “You seem experienced and I love to learn from the best.”

Tony let out a chuckle, noticing Lydia had no idea what to reply and her face became red in a few seconds. “At least I’m not the one who sleeps with married men.” She tried to offend Phoebe, but she was far from arguing with her. 

“Neither do I,” she replied calmly. “Maybe you should read something instead of judging its cover, but what do I know?” Phoebe shrugged, turning back to Tony. “Since we’re done here, I’m gonna go and change. See you around, Tony.”

“Bye, dove,” he replied, waving her goodbye then returned to scrolling through the photos on his camera. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Lydia’s high voice reached Phoebe’s ears after she had made a few steps.

“Home,” she replied. 

“But I’m not done—”

“But I am,” Phoebe interjected. “Listen, Lydia, I don’t want to argue. You do you and I’ll do me. If you really want to fight, find someone else, because I’m not here for it. Don’t come in my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”

The woman looked at her as if she had said something in a completely unknown language to her and it took her a moment to process what Phoebe had said.

“I don’t want you to be near Solomon,” she blurted out of sudden.

“Oh.” It all started to make sense for Phoebe. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on being anywhere near him,” she assured. 

“Don’t you?” She looked at Phoebe questioningly. “I’ve seen you at the premiere. He was pretty interested in you.” 

“Maybe he was, but I’m not interested in him at all. I’m grateful for his help and giving me this chance, of course, but… Nothing more. I have my eyes locked on someone else.”

“I see,” Lydia replied and a slight smile appeared on her face. “Well… Don’t let it change.”

“As I said, don’t worry,” Phoebe replied. “Solomon is all yours.”

And with these words she walked away, leaving her newly made friend by herself in the studio.


How was it? 

Not bad, though I don’t think it’s for me, Phoebe replied on the text she had received from Amy right after she changed her clothes, feeling comfortable again in her black, skinny jeans and white, short tank top. She put on her black, short converse sneakers and decided it was high time for her to go home.

By the time she left the photo studio in Downtown Los Santos, it was already late afternoon. She could already feel the hunger after not eating for the whole day, so she kept walking, intending to get something to eat on her way back home when she accidentally bumped into someone. 

“I’m so—Michael?” She could not hide her surprise when a man she had walked into turned out to be him.

“You shouldn’t text and walk at the same time,” he pointed, chuckling when he noticed her shocked face. “Unless you were texting me.” 

“I was texting Amy,” she replied then shook her head. “What are you even doing here? Are you stalking me or something?”

“No,” Michael denied. “I might have access to Solomon’s calendar, though, and he had your photo session put in it. I didn’t expect you to agree on his offer, but when I found out you did, I thought I would surprise you.” 

“You did surprise me, indeed.”

“So, what are you up to now when you’re done with work?” 

“I was planning on going home and grabbing dinner on the way,” she replied. “I’m starving.”

“What do you say about Taco Libre ?” 

“Are you taking me out?” Phoebe asked, tilting her head to the side and smiling at him. 

“Can’t I? I’m already sending you good morning texts, so I figure there’s nothing wrong with taking you out, too. We could go for a walk later…” Michael looked down, feeling he had crossed the line here. “You know what, we don’t have to—”

“You had me at Taco ,” she told him then winked at him teasingly. “Besides, it would be a shame if you stalked me for nothing.”

“I wasn’t—”

“I know. I’m just messing with you.”


An hour later, they sat on the bench with a view on Vespucci Beach, eating tacos and catching up on everything they missed in each other’s lives in the past few days.

She told him all about searching for a job, ending up agreeing to Solomon’s offer, first day as a model and meeting this platinum blonde woman, Lydia, who had more or less assumed she must have slept with Richards to get this job. 

Michael was not surprised by that at all. He was there with Phoebe at the premiere, he saw the way Salomon was looking at her - it was obvious he had something more in mind when he offered her his help or at least, he was hoping for more when he made his offer to her. 

Even though Michael would never admit that it was how Vinewood worked and he knew that well. That was the reason why he was so mad at Solomon - there could be nothing pure in his motives, especially when he was offering his help.

Yet, he did not stop him from making this offer or her from agreeing to it. 

“If Solomon does something inappropriate, let me know,” Michael said once Phoebe finished talking. “I’ll gladly take care of any inconvenience.” 

“I don’t think there will be such a need,” she chuckled. “I have a feeling Lydia won’t let it happen and I ain’t planning on staying in this brand for long, anyway. I do this just for money, I’m not a model and… I just don’t feel this whole model life to be for me.” 

“There are many things I don’t agree on with Solomon, but he was right telling you could make a career in this brand. You’re beautiful and I’m sure many people would share that opinion.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she replied and her face flushed red, “but thank you.”

“You look so sweet when you blush,” Michael marked, “and have these cute wrinkles on your nose whenever I tell you a compliment.”

“Do I?” she laughed, shaking her head slowly. “I had no idea wrinkles can be cute on anyone.”

“They’re cute on you,” he fired back.

“So you say,” she mused. 

They continued small talk until they reached the point when Michael decided to tell Phoebe about the visit Amanda had paid to him. He did not know what caused this outburst of honesty, but something was telling him Phoebe deserved to know he was trying to get rid of his ex-wife for good.

“I’m probably not allowed to say this, but your wife really has a nerve,” Phoebe responded when he told her about the demands Amanda had. “She can’t blackmail you.”

“Well, she technically doesn’t blackmail me,” Michael sighed. “She wants her part from our divorce, but I don’t think we were equal once we were together, so… Her deal is not appealing to me, but at the same time, I need her to sign these goddamn papers as soon as possible.”

“Why?” Phoebe raised her brow questioningly. “What’s so urgent?” 

“Are you really asking me that?”

She nodded in response. 

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with the fact you’re eating tacos with a married man,” he explained. “Well, technically married, a one-sign-away-from-divorce man.”

Phoebe let out a small chuckle. “I didn’t know eating tacos with a married man is not socially acceptable,” she said, tucking the strand of her hair behind her ear. “Though, you made it sound as if it was adultery.”

“Not that we're not guilty of that, too. Um, technically,” Michael marked and fell silent. “For the record, I really liked what we did even if I’ll be damned for it.”

“You did?” Phoebe asked, dropping her eyes. “I thought I made a massive fool out of myself… You know, after what I said.” 

“Hey,” his left hand cupped her right cheek, making her look at him, “you didn’t make a fool out of yourself.”

“Didn’t I? I mean I shouldn’t have said it back then, but I… Whenever I’m around you I don’t really think straight,” she confessed. “But I… I really liked what we did, too.”

Michael did not reply for the first few seconds, staring at her as if she was a work of art. He began wondering whether he would ever get tired of looking at this pretty face, dark eyes and sweet lips. 

And then, he reminded himself of the words Amanda had spoken to him the other day.

There’s no sane woman who would want a man like you.

And out of sudden, he felt a need to find out if these words were true.

“Would you...” he hesitated, unsure what he wanted to ask her. “Would you like to do it again?” He chickened out, realising he was not ready to ask her what he really wanted.

A smirk appeared on her face as she rubbed her cheek against the palm of his hand. 

“With a one-sign-away-from-divorce man?” she questioned when suddenly, her phone started vibrating on the bench. 

She peeked down at the screen curious who dared to disturb this moment she and Michael had. To their surprise, because Michael could not help and look at her phone, too, it was Daniel.

“Pick up,” Michael said when Dan called again after Phoebe had not picked up his first call “It seems urgent.”

Phoebe looked at the phone, then at Michael and the phone again. “Fine,” she stated then picked up, placing her mobile right next to her ear. “What do you want?” she asked, hoping her brother would make it quick. 

However, with every passing second, her face was getting paler as her brother was saying something Michael could not hear over the phone. After about thirty seconds, she hung up and her eyes were automatically filled up with tears. 

“What happened?” Michael asked in a concerned voice. “Phoebe, what happ--”

“My mom… My mom’s dead,” she uttered, “and I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Notes:

One of the longest chapters I've ever written, I swear--

Chapter 14: Déjà vu

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When something horrible happens in one's life, time seems to slow down. 

Phoebe thought the time stopped when two days later she was standing over her mother’s grave in the Vinewood Cemetery. She was wearing a plain, black dress and matching stilettos and the tears were streaming down her cheeks, smudging the mascara she had put on her lashes earlier this afternoon.

After she called back Daniel when she got home two days ago, her brother told her the reason their mother passed was a semi heart attack. He also mentioned something about the doctors saying there was nothing they could do or at least, they claimed they could not.

She was having a déjà vu

It was not the first time Phoebe heard such an explanation. She had heard it before and back then her heart was broken almost as much as it was now. No matter what feelings she had towards her mother, it was still her mother. Before things went down, they had been living a good life as a family. Once she thought about it, she realised she did not appreciate it enough while it lasted.

Shame these days would never go back. 

She sighed deeply, squeezing Michael's hand tighter. She could feel her brother’s glare on her when she leaned her head against Michael's shoulder, letting herself have this moment of weakness in public. 

She did not ask Michael to come with her to the funeral. She did not ask him for anything and yet, he gave her all he had. He did not leave; he did not quit, even though he could have when Phoebe wanted to cut herself off from everyone. 

He stayed. 

He stayed with her and let her cry on his shoulder as long as she needed, making sure she had everything she wanted within the last two days. 

He did it not only because he felt sorry for her, but because he could not even think about leaving her all alone with her thoughts in her apartment. Knowing everything she had been through in her life, he found it to be the perfect opportunity for him to take care of her. 

To make it up for her in a way. 

“We are gathered here today to honour the memory of Mary Harris. It’s only natural that we should be sad today, because, in a practical sense, Mary is no longer a part of our lives…” The priest started, but Phoebe could not focus on what he was saying. She was staring at the coffin blankly, hoping this funeral would be over quickly.

She could not take more pain; standing there and realising she would never see her mother again was too painful.  Maybe one day…  were the last words Mary said to her daughter and while Phoebe was standing over her mother’s grave, these words could not leave her head. 

Maybe one day we’ll meet again, mom,  she thought then shut her eyes when the coffin began disappearing into the ground. She turned her head away, letting her tears turn into a sniffling, which grew into sobs that shook her whole body. 

“Come here,” Michael coaxed, wrapping his arms around her once she buried her face in his chest. “I’m right here, Phoebe,” he whispered to her ear. “I’m here…” With a spare hand, he was caressing her back. “I’m here.”

“I can’t watch this,” Phoebe’s lips were trembling as she spoke, “I can’t—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he replied, pulling her even closer to him. “You’re gonna get through this. You don’t have to look, you know? I’ll tell you once when it’s done.”

“O-okay,” she stuttered, trying to take a deep breath. “Thank you.”

The ceremony had lasted for a few more minutes before it was done, giving her some time to calm down. She wiped off her cheeks and eyes with a tissue and took a moment to watch the coffin being buried, even if her heart was breaking. 

“Phoebe?” She felt a hand on her shoulder and heard a voice that she instantly recognised. 

“Murphy?” she asked, letting go of Michael’s hand and turning to the person who had just spoken to her. “How—What are you doing here?”

“Daniel informed me,” the man replied. “Turns out your brother has a tiny dose of decency in himself after all. Please, accept my sincere condolences.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I have to admit, I didn’t expect to see you here,” she added, hugging him, “though I’m glad you came.”

Murphy was a man in his sixties, but if Phoebe did not know that she would never tell it, basing on the way he looked. He had not changed much since the last time she saw him, a few weeks after her father’s burial. Well, maybe his dark hair and stubble got a little more grey, but he was still smiling the way she remembered.

“So, I’ve already spoken to Daniel,” Murphy said after Phoebe had pulled away, stepping back to Michael, who was carefully watching them both. “Nothing has changed between you two throughout the years, I assume.”

“Yeah… You know well how tough Dan can be,” Phoebe replied, then realised she had forgotten about the fact Michael had no clue who she was talking to. “Oh, I forgot to introduce you,” she turned to Michael. “Mike, this is my father’s best friend and also, my godfather, Murphy. Murphy,” she moved to the other man, “this is Michael, he’s…” She was looking for a word, not really knowing how to introduce him. 

“I’m Phoebe’s friend,” Michael had finished before the silence became uncomfortable. “Pleasure to meet you.” He held out his hand to shake Murphy’s. “Michael de Santa.”

“Murphy Carter,” Murphy responded then shook Michael’s hand. “Likewise.” He sent Phoebe a meaningful look, feeling there was more to it than Michael being just her friend, but held himself back from saying it out loud. 

It was not his business nor did he have the right to comment. 

“Are you planning on staying in Los Santos for long?” Phoebe asked, hoping to avoid answering inconvenient questions about her and Michael and breaking the deafening silence.

“No, I’m here just for a few days and I’m going back to Liberty City,” he responded. “You know, the work is calling.”

“I know,” she nodded. “How is it going, by the way?”

“Great. Transferring there a few years ago was definitely a good choice.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“Yeah… Anyway, I won't take more of your time. I just wanted to check on you, kid, but I see your  friend  is already taking good care of you,” he glanced at Michael. “If you need anything you know who to call, right? My number hasn’t changed in years.”

“I know,” she replied. “I’ll call. I promise.”

“It was nice to see you two,” he told them. “Shame we didn’t meet under different circumstances. Again, I’m truly sorry for your loss, Phoebe and I’ll be waiting for that call.”

He had smiled at them both before he walked away and there were only a few more people left at the cemetery. Most of them were friends of Mary and except Daniel, there were no more relatives. 

When Phoebe’s eyes returned to her brother, who was still glaring at them both, she could not tell whether he was madder at her or Michael, but she did not care, either. She had every right to bring Michael with her, so Daniel could go to hell with all the grievances he had. 

“You know, maybe staying in the car wasn't such a bad idea,” Michael said out of sudden, making Phoebe look at him. “I’m pretty sure your brother isn’t pleased I’m here.”

“I’m pretty sure he isn’t pleased, too, but I don’t give a damn. You’ve been there for me for the last days and you have every right to be here with me,” she replied and her hand reached for his cheek to caress it gently. “I can’t express how grateful I am for having you here with me.” 

“That’s least I could do. To be here with you,” he told her and a weak smile appeared on her face. “Do you want to stay a little longer or to go home?”

Phoebe dared to look once more at her brother’s angry face then, once she realised she did not give a damn about him anymore, she replied:

“I want to go home.”


“When I said I want to go home I meant my place,” Phoebe said when Michael parked in front of his mansion a few minutes later. “Seriously, Michael, I think you need to take a break and rest…”

“I don’t need a break from you,” he responded. “Besides, how could you possibly think I would let you be alone now? No. Not an option. You’re stuck with me.”

“But I’m fine,” she whined. “I… I can call Amy and ask her to come and spend some time with me if that would make you feel calmer.”

“Fine? Phoebe, I’ve been with you for the past days and… I… I’m just calmer when I’m close to you. We don’t have to talk, but I don’t want you to be alone, looking at the walls of your apartment. We can do whatever you want, but… Together, okay? I’ve just got you back and I… I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t lose me. I know the last two days were horrible and it’s going to be hard for me for some time, but… I just need some time to process everything. Last weeks were hectic and now this… I don’t want you to think you’re responsible for me. I’m a big girl.”

“Can you be  a big girl  on my couch?” Michael looked at her the way that made it impossible for her to say  no . “For the sake of my sanity.”

“Okay,” Phoebe replied quietly, then she got out of the car. “Listen, Mike... If you do this to redeem yourself in my eyes or something I just want you to know you don’t have to—” she said once she joined him on the other side of his Tailgater but did not manage to finish. 

“Haven’t it crossed your mind for a second that I simply care about you?” Michael asked, angrier than he intended, “or that I might also have the slightest idea how it is to lose someone important and I just don’t want you to get through this alone?” His tone became bitter and that was when Phoebe knew she should not have said what she did. “I know you’re used to doing everything on your own, but you don’t have to do it on your own anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Michael. It's just... No one has ever done as much for me as you did and I guess it’s something that overwhelms me," she responded, hanging her head.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said while his fingers reached her chin and tilted it up, so she was looking him in the eyes. “Just let me help you or just… Be there for you.” She nodded in response. “Shall we go inside?” Another nod. 

Michael did not push her to talk. 

Once they went inside, he poured her a drink and handed it to her when she made herself comfortable on his white leather couch. Then, he made a drink for himself and downed it quickly before he even joined Phoebe in the living room. 

When he returned to her, she was lying on the side, covered with a red blanket that once used to be Amanda's favourite, but when she moved out, she forgot to take it with her. 

Phoebe had her eyes closed and the glass he had handed her a few minutes earlier was placed next to the couch, empty. She probably was not sleeping, but Michael did not dare to check. He took off his dark jacket and joined her on the couch; he could not resist the urge to brush this strand of hair away from her face and tucked it gently behind her right ear. 

He tried to nap, but he could not. 

He could not sleep when Phoebe was next to him and knew she was not feeling well. 

A lot was going on in his mind at that moment, too. 

Last days were hard for him. Mainly because of what had happened to Phoebe but also because this divorce thing he was dealing with. His attorneys were doing their best to help him finish this divorce thing he had been struggling with for a few months now, but there was a lot of work to do. Truth to be told, it would be much easier for him if she, this charming lady who was napping by his side, did not appear in his life. 

She was here, right next to him and Michael did not want to wait for any second longer for his almost-ex wife to sign those stupid papers. 

The fact he was technically still married caused too many problems already. It made Phoebe take a step back soon after things got  good  between them. 

It almost ruined everything they had. 

However, it was just the tip of an iceberg.

His other lies were still hidden and waiting to be revealed like a skeleton in the closet.


Adrenaline. 

After the last score, Michael promised himself not to get into trouble for some time, but when he picked up a call from Trevor, he knew the trouble was coming at him from around the corner.

He could not decline it. 

He could not help himself and when Trevor mentioned something about an easy job with an even easier profit, he agreed on helping his friend in need. 

Michael was bored. 

This shot of adrenaline he felt whenever he was doing what he was the best at was something he could not refuse. His calm life was comfortable, but he hated stagnation. Sitting by the pool in his expensive mansion was not enough for him, or at least, was not enough to make him feel good. 

He needed more.

Trevor assured him it would be easy. It was to some point, but he should have known better than to believe there would be no complications. There always had to be some complications, right? 

These guys, the ones Trevor wanted to eliminate, somehow knew they were coming, so there was no element of surprise. There was the attack. There was a defence. There was also much brutality, but deep inside, Michael expected nothing less from Trevor. 

Then, the chase began. 

They were rushing through the city, trying to stop these guys from escaping, but it was not easy. To a fire, they responded with fire and had no mercy. So did Trevor. Michael, on the other hand, wanted to let them go, but it was too late for that. 

“It’s all or nothing, Mikey!” Trevor told him over the phone then hung up, leaving the decision to his friend.

He wanted to let go. 

He truly did. 

Just when he was about to press the brake, someone shot his windshield, making it crash into thousands of tiny pieces. He had taken a few shots in the dark before his car turned as one of the tires burst. The car stopped several dozens meters away; it got him a while to get out, pissed and angry at this situation. Then, in the dark, he noticed someone. A woman. She was lying on the pavement all in blood and that was also when he realised it was his fault.

“Fuck,” he cursed loudly and hurried in her direction. 

When he reached her, she was already unconscious. Her light jeans were more red than light at this point and right next to her hand, there was a mobile phone. 

Michael knew two things: he could not help her and that it was bad. 

It was bad and it was his fault. He should not have shot in the dark, assuming there was no one around on the street; he should have stayed in his mansion and poured whiskey in his throat for the rest of his miserable life. 

He should have listened to the people who were telling him to stay away from troubles.

But what he should have done was one thing while the other was what he actually did. 

He reached out for her phone and once he wiped the blood off it, he dialled the emergency number.

“911. What’s your emergency?”

Notes:

Sooooo.... I'm kinda glad I managed to finish this one so soon, that's for sure.

Please, tell me your thoughts, because I don't know--I really enjoy writing it, but the real question is - do you enjoy reading? I'm dying to know, so, don't hesitate to share your thoughts with me. 💖

Yeah... As always, I hope you enjoy this one!

Chapter 15: Crumble And Fall

Notes:

There's one trigger warning for this chapter: bruises. There's no much description, they're mostly mentioned, but I feel this need to warn you.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Michael could not find a place for himself.

After a very short and restless nap, he was even more nervous and haunted by some disturbing thoughts that could not leave his head. He dreamed of the night he met Phoebe and reminded himself about what he had done, which made him feel horrible. It made him feel as if he was the worst man walking on the planet or at least, in Los Santos.

He could not name all the emotions that he was bottling up inside. He had never been good at explaining how he felt and it did not change within the years. He kept staring blankly at the ceiling of his living room and that was when he realised he had no clue about what he was doing. 

He thought he had everything under control, but apparently, he had not. Things were going their own ways and there was nothing he could control anymore. Even this illusion of control was slipping out of his hand, making him feel powerless. 

Maybe Trevor was right when he called him a  soft cunt  the other day. 

Maybe the older he was, the softer he got, but the main problem was he did not want to be soft. He wanted to be tough, powerful, strong - everything a man like him should have been.

He got up from the couch where Phoebe was peacefully sleeping and walked to the kitchen island in the other room, reaching out for a spare glass and a whiskey bottle. Once he poured himself one, he immediately downed it and repeated this action a few times, stopping just when he realised there was half of a bottle gone. He did not care about it for long, though. A moment later, he grabbed what was left of it and went outside, letting the cool evening air fill his lungs before he sat down on one of the loungers by the pool. 

Michael had taken a few sips of whiskey before he put it down on the ground and reached out for the pack of cigarettes that he had left under the lounger the other day. He took one out and lit it, taking a long puff at his cigarette. He had held it into his lungs for a while before he puffed out a cloud of smoke.

While he was sitting over there, staring miserably ahead for a change and thinking about everything that had happened, he realised he could not go on like this forever. He had to do something, anything, to get this sense of control back in his life. He had to do something to feel like he was in charge of his life, not anyone else. 

He had to do something to not be seen as a miserable, old man who had built all his life on lies even if that was exactly who he was.

Michael was sitting over there and contemplating over his life when out of sudden, without any warning, he felt someone’s arms wrapping around his chest. He flinched at this unexpected touch and turned his head back abruptly. 

“It’s me,” Phoebe said softly, resting her chin on his right shoulder. “I hope I didn’t scare you.” 

“You didn’t,” Michael responded, trying not to show her she did, in fact, scare him a little. “I was lost in thought and didn’t hear you coming.”

“What were you thinking about so intensely?” 

“Nothing much,” he tried to trail her off. “The past days were rough and I needed some time to think. How do you feel?”

“Not bad. I’ve been better, but this nap did me good,” she replied, then noticed a bottle of whiskey standing on the ground, next to the lounger. “Oh, I see you also wanted to drown all your sorrows.”

“I kinda did.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“In drowning sorrows?”

“Yeah,” Phoebe nodded then moved in front of him, sitting down on the other lounger. “I also want to apologise for what I said earlier.” She reached out for the bottle and took a sip, indulging in the familiar burning, sweet taste. “I don’t know what got into me. I know you do everything you can to help,” she added once she put the bottle down. 

“Help? Phoebe, I don’t know what I’m doing,” Michael shook his head, and this time, he was the one to reach out for the bottle. “I’ve never felt so powerless in my entire life.”

“Well, not knowing what you’re doing seems to work just right.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he had replied and taken the last puff before he threw what was left of his cigarette away. 

“Just for the record, I think you’re doing your best, and I’m truly grateful for everything you do,” she said once he set his eyes on her, “even if you’re just my  friend .”

“I knew you would bring it up at some point.” Michael rolled up his eyes. “What else did you expect me to say, hmm?”

“I honestly don’t know what I expected,” she responded, letting herself to be straightforward with him. “Would you like that?” she asked after a period of silence.

“What exactly?”

“Being just friends,” she specified, and he sighed deeply.

“No. I feel too good around you,” he confessed, and then a short laugh escaped his mouth. 

“What is in that bottle?” She reached out for the whiskey Michael was holding in his left hand. “Why doesn’t it have the same magic effect on me it has on you?” she coughed after taking a big sip and wiping her lips with the inner side of her right hand. 

“You had too little of it,” Michael told her. “I’m serious, Phoebe. I… Fuck. I like you, okay? I like you so much, I wish I could tell you everything about me.”

She took a moment to process what he had just said. 

“Well, in that case, I would say… Do it,” she said quietly, but loud enough for him to hear every word clearly. “Tell me everything you want to say.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“You would hate  everything .”

“And what makes you think I would?” Phoebe questioned, moving back onto the lounger Michael was sitting on and joined him by his side. 

“It makes me hate myself sometimes. Why would it be different with you?” 

“I’m not you,” she responded when he looked at her questioningly. “I don’t see you the way you see yourself, because I have a completely different perspective.”

Michael did not reply. Instead, he sighed deeply, searching for a response, but he could not find any. There was a war in his mind, and the fact that he had drunk more than he probably should have was not making it easier for him. He was not thinking clearly, letting his feelings take control over his mind. 

“What’s going on this mind of yours?” Phoebe asked, dragging his attention back to her.

“It’s nothing,” he said after a moment, feeling the pressure to reply. “Forget I said anything.”

“Too late. Finish what you started or else—”

“Or else what?” he snapped at her. “Or else what, Phoebe?” he repeated his question, making her instinctively back off. 

No matter how badly Michael wanted to get all these things that were bothering out of his chest, he was blocked, and it only increased the level of his frustration. He got up intending to leave before he would do or say something he would definitely regret later, but Phoebe was far from letting him go like this.

It was not easy for her, too. Not only because of the loss of her mother but also because she had no idea where she was standing. Everything in her life seemed so temporary, nothing was granted and, above all, she was tired of living in this constant unknown. Losing her mother made her also realise she was not able to lose anyone else. She could not afford to lose another person that could possibly care for her.

She got up, too, and followed Michael to the kitchen where he was leaning against the counter with his face buried in his hands.

“I think you should ask yourself one fundamental question, which is what the hell you really want from life, Michael,” she stated, stopping a few meters away from him. 

She saw his body tensing at the sound of her voice as he turned towards her. Then, he looked at her the way he had never looked at her before. “I want--” He stopped, closing his eyes and shaking his head slowly. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“What do you want?” she repeated in a firm tone and Michael made a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them. “For god’s sake, it can’t be that hard--”

“Phoebe, don’t--”

“Please, just answer this goddamn question!” She let the nerves take control over her, and as she rarely shouted, this time, she did. “You’re driving me insane when I ask you something, and you trail me off every damn time!”

“Has it crossed your mind that I might not want to talk about it?!” Michael seemed to lose control over his tone, either. 

“It has, but for the love of God, how hard is telling what  you  want?!” 

“You really want to know? You, Phoebe, I want you!” he blurted. “I want you, but I know you’re gonna leave me! Everyone who knows me leaves! The woman who was my wife for years hates me, my kids hate me, even my psychopath friend hates me, because they all know who I am!”

“So what? You want me to hate you, too, before I even get to know you? That’s also something that you want?” Her dark eyes were shining from tears, and she was at the edge of her patience. 

“No.” His voice got quieter.

“Do you want me to leave?” Phoebe dared to ask, feeling her heart pounding in her chest.

“No.” He could feel the tension growing bigger and bigger between them as he kept staring in her eyes. “I… I want you to get to know the real me and don’t leave,” he said after a moment that felt like forever. “You look at me with your dark eyes and make me… Feel. Not that I’ve never felt anything before, because I have, but… I think through all these years, I got used to not feeling anything...” He sighed and wanted to say something more when she pressed her lips against his, not letting him finish. 

It was not that she did not want to hear what he had to say. She did, but some things seemed to be more urgent at that moment, and one of these things was her need to kiss him, wrap her arms around his neck and pull him close to her trembling body, she could not control any longer. 

As long as  this  had a chance to end up with them both having sex, Michael was not opposing, either. He eagerly kissed her back, tasting her lips on his and feeling her warm breath on his chin once she pulled away for a moment to glance at him. 

“I want you, Phoebe,” Michael whispered. “I want you, I want you, I want you,” he had repeated like a prayer before he leaned for another kiss without waiting for a response from her. He assumed she felt the same about it as he did. 

In fact, she did, even if the part of her knew it was going nowhere.

Instead of doing  this , they should have talked like two mature adults would have, but emotions took control over them, and nothing else seemed as more right than this at that moment. It could not have ended up differently than in his bedroom where Michael carried her, not letting her out of his arms for a second. 

Once she hit the sheets, she knew there was no going back from this point. Nothing except Michael seemed not to matter for her, anyway. After he had thrown her on his bed, he backed off, struggling with the buttons of his black shirt while Phoebe took off her black dress and a seconds later, their clothes fell on the floor. Only then she realised he had not seen her completely naked before, even if they had sex before it was different then. 

Now she was lying on his bed, exposed to him, only in her underwear, which was not covering much. He parted her legs with his left as he hovered over her to kiss her, teasing her delicate skin on her belly with his undone belt.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmured as he moved from her lips to her neck. She felt him kissing and biting the skin under her left ear, leaving a mark over there. Then, he got down to work, pulling her up a little, so he could unhook her bra and throw it aside. After a moment of gazing at her naked breast, he moved to her laced panties and yanked them down, smirking like a boy who just got his dreamed gift.

Just as her panties joined her bra on the floor, he moved up, and once he leaned down, he whispered to her ear: “On all fours, baby.”

And so, she obeyed, feeling this spark of excitement in her lower belly when he pressed her back gently and positioned himself right behind her. His fingers brushed her down there, making him realise there was no need for their foreplay to last any second longer. However, he could not deny himself this pleasure of touching her there.

He had full control over her at that moment, and he loved that. He loved having control and Phoebe was willing to give him what he wanted. 

She pressed her right cheek against the mattress and waited for Michael to make a move. He took his time, stroking her back with one of his hands and with the other, he was brushing her folds, but not moving any further till out of sudden, he slid two fingers inside her. She moaned quietly and tried to lift herself a bit, but Michael’s hand kept her in place. “Don’t move.” His fingers were sliding in and out of her slowly for a while. “You like that?” 

She nodded. 

“Very well.”

He had slid his fingers out and brushed them against her inner thighs before he reached to his nightstand. Then, he grabbed a condom from the drawer. “Let’s have some more fun, hmm?” he hummed, unzipping his pants and yanking them down to his knees along with his boxers. 

He gave himself a few long strokes then rolled the condom on. “Baby, you sure you want this?” he asked just to be sure as, despite all, her consent had a fundamental value for him. 

Phoebe propped herself on her elbows and turned her face towards him. “Yes.”

He moved closer to her and positioned his full-mast member at her entrance then slid it all the way inside, making her moan again. However, this moan was different than the one he had heard earlier. It was a more painful one, so he pushed it gradually a few more times, giving her some time to adjust to his size and this whole new sensation. After that, he pushed her down to the mattress, picking up the pace he preferred.

Fast. 

It was not long before Phoebe was a moaning mess, which was music to Michael’s ears as he kept slamming into her from behind with so much force her body jerked forward with every thrust. He was holding her hips firmly, digging his fingers into her flesh a little too hard, and that was when Phoebe whined and wriggled under him. He was too focused on his own pleasure to notice that something could be wrong, though.

It felt so good for him. 

Phoebe could have said something, but she did not want him to stop. He was rough, maybe too rough at some point, but she was ready to take anything just so he would not stop. 

She wanted him, soft or rough, it did not matter. 

Just so he would not leave her. 

Her heart could not take it.

“Fuckin’a, baby,” Michael groaned behind her and eventually loosened his grip on her hips as he came after a while. He pulled his cock out of her slowly then bent down again and reached to her wetness and applied pressure on her clit, making slow circles on it. “You didn’t think we’re done, did you?” he asked when her body jerked uncontrollably, her hands clenched the sheets, and she pressed her face against the mattress to mute her moans. “Up,” he commanded and pulled her up, so she was again propping on her elbows. “Let me hear that.” 

“Jesus, Michael, fuck—” she whimpered, and her body trembled under her weight as Michael kept circling her clit mercilessly. 

“Come for me, baby,” he coaxed, and that was when she lost it. She whined loudly, helplessly and her body jolted as she reached her peak. “That’s right,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Good girl.” 

She was breathing heavily as her body fell uncontrollably on the mattress, still feeling Michael’s hand where he had held her a moment ago. She was hot, her cheeks were burning red, and it took a while to normalise her breath. Michael used this opportunity to walk out the bedroom and get himself cleaned in the bathroom, leaving Phoebe naked in his sheets. 

Just as her breath stabilised, Michael returned and eagerly joined her back in the bed, quickly realising something was wrong. There were reddish bruises on her hips, and when she turned her head towards him, he noticed the left side of her neck was also in his bite marks.

“Did I do this to you?” he asked with horror in his voice. That was when he also looked at her hips. “Phoebe, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s okay,” she told him, seeing a concentration on his face. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” she repeated, not letting him explain himself. “I’m okay.”

“It doesn’t look  okay,  Phoebe,” he marked, moving closer to her to examine her bruised hips. “I didn’t know—Fuck!”

“Michael, you didn’t do it on purpose,” she told him, instantly covering herself with a quilt, so he stopped looking at them. “Things like that… Happens.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” His voice was quiet. “I would never… I would never hurt you on purpose.”

“I know.” She sat up to reach his face and caressed his right cheek gently. There was a short stubble on it, and she loved this rough feeling under her fingertips as they were brushing his skin. “I know, Mikey,” she repeated once he started kissing the palm of her right hand tenderly.

Phoebe smiled at him gently when he moved to her neck, brushing the places where he had marked her with his lips as if he believed his kisses could erase them from her skin. 

In fact, that was what he wanted to do even though he knew it was impossible.

From the urge of control, he went to the state where he realised it could not necessarily control he truly needed in his life.

It could be something else. 

Something simple. Or maybe, someone.

There was a chance this missing element in his life was someone who would see good in him just when he could not see any good at all.

Michael thought about it as a few minutes later he turned off the bedside lamp and they both laid down nestled up against each other. He thought about it long after Phoebe had fallen asleep in his arms and realised she was this certain someone for him. 

He also realised she made him feel all the things he thought, he would never feel again, but at that moment, he was too tipsy to be scared.

Notes:

Hi, guys! I want to apologise you in advance for all typos I missed in this chapter. Well, I'm definitely stepping out of my comfort zone, writing longer chapters and trying out new things... Hopefully, you will like it (I'm keeping my fingers crossed for it).

As always, I want to thank you so much for reading and I would be extremely grateful if you shared your thoughts with me in comments - it's always a pleasure to read what you, guys, think! 😊🌹

Chapter 16: The Lion's Den

Chapter Text

When Phoebe woke up the next morning, she did not know how she felt. Whether she was happy or sad, she had no clue - all she knew was that the last night happened and it was real. The bruises on her hips could not be more real when she looked under the quilt and examined places where Michael’s hands had been last night. Her hand reached out to the left side of her neck and even though she could not see it, she knew there was a bite mark, right under her ear. 

She did not make this up. It happened, for real.

In one second, she felt overwhelmed by her thoughts, and that was when she realised it had all gone wrong. She should have known sleeping with him would not solve any of the issues she had - or at least - it would not solve them for long. The last night should not have happened, even if part of her wanted that and enjoyed it.

When she slept with Michael for the first time, she had no idea he was still married. When she slept with him last night, she knew, but it did not stop her, either. It was morally wrong, she knew that, but she could not stop her feelings towards him. Maybe it would have been wiser if she ended this relationship when she had a chance after finding out about his wife. 

Maybe. 

Maybe that would have been wiser, but at this point, this chance was long gone.

Then, she also realised she did not know Michael well. Of course, she knew the basic things about him, but that was it. Somehow, they did not have much time to talk about him, focusing all on her, and the other thing was that she did not need much to get attached to someone. 

It was one of the reasons she was often hurt. 

She never learned from her mistakes. She was always willing to give a chance to someone, who usually did not deserve it. She kept giving second chances to people who did not deserve her just because she did not want to get left behind. 

It was hard to swallow, but that was who she became during all these years. The confident girl was replaced by a naive one, who preferred being hurt rather than being abandoned. She desperately wanted someone to stay and to be with her instead of leaving at the first possible occasion.

She reminded herself of her father’s words. He told her that one day she would learn from her mistakes, but he was so wrong. She would never learn. 

“Good morning,” Michael said sleepily, dragging her out of thought. “Is everything alright, baby? How do you feel?”

“Good morning,” she responded feebly. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”

“Don’t worry about you? Nah, not possible.” He smiled gently as she rolled to the side, so she could look at him in a more comfortable position. “I’m so sorry for what happened yesterday, Phoebe. I… It’s my fault.”

“Stop beating yourself up and apologising to me every few seconds,” Phoebe said to him, trying to sound confident. “It’s as your fault as it’s mine. I could’ve said something, but I didn’t. I didn’t say anything, because I enjoyed myself. I was thinking of you as a tender type, but apparently, I got the wrong impression on that matter. Not that I don’t like tenderness, slow dancing, gifts, you taking care of me…”

“I can be tender if you want,” he offered willingly. 

“But this rough and raw side of you, it’s extremely attractive,” she continued, ignoring his offer. 

“This rough and raw side of me got you all bruised,” he countered. “I don’t know what’s attractive about it.” For a few seconds, he turned his sight away, escaping Phoebe’s dark eyes. “I think we both know it shouldn’t have happened. Not like this, at least. I should’ve been there for you yesterday when you needed me.” 

“But you were there for me, Michael. You’ve been there from the very beginning,” she opposed. “The fact you had a bad day doesn’t make you a bad person. The fact you accidentally hurt me doesn’t make you a bad person and I won’t blame you for it.”

“If that’s comforting, you did an excellent job at distracting me, so I wasn’t thinking about anything else that was bothering me,” she added after a moment. “I was so angry at you that at some point it was all I could think about. I wanted to talk while you kept trailing me off and believe me, it was frustrating.”

“I meant it when I said there are things I don’t want to talk about, Phoebe.”

“What could possibly be so hard to talk about that you can’t even talk about it to me ?” 

Michael sighed. He wished he could say it all to her, to confess everything he was hiding from her, but he could not. He did not want to risk it all. He did not want to risk losing her, because, no matter how ridiculous that was, he got attached to her along the way. She was the spark of hope in his life; a proof his life did not have to look the way it did for years. 

He could be happy. With her, happiness seemed so easy to achieve. 

“There are plenty of things to do in bed and you’re choosing to talk?” 

“It’s not what I asked about,” she quickly noticed. 

“I know, but I don’t feel like talking about it right now,” he said quietly and she looked down, pretty much disappointed with the answer she received.

His left hand reached and caressed her right cheek, making her lift the corner of her lips in a half-smile. She could not help herself, his touch was making her weak; and at the end of the day, despite all her mind knew, her heart wanted him.

And then, out of sudden, another thought intruded her mind and made her think of something that had been bothering for a while, even if she did not want it; even if she thought she was completely fine with not knowing the answer for it.

“So, there’s this thing I’ve been thinking about… Last night and the other one we spent together… What did they mean to you?” From the look on his face, it was obvious he did not expect such a question from her. “I mean…” Phoebe added, feeling she should not have asked, but she went further since she already started. “You and I… Is this long term?”

There was no chance he could avoid answering these questions.

“I don’t know, Phoebe… I… I wish it was more than a few nights' stands.” Michael was not really thinking, so he told her the first thing that came to his mind. He told her the truth. “I wish I could declare myself, but you know my situation. It’s not that easy.”

Phoebe did not know what to reply, so she remained silent. She did not know what she had expected, but it definitely was not something she had just heard. Situation? An easy excuse to prevent himself from telling her how he felt about her. 

“I need to go out and get some fresh air… Or a cigarette. I ain’t sure yet.” She searched for an excuse to leave immediately, fearing if she would not leave, she would burst into tears in front of him.

“There’s a pack in my jacket,” Michael replied, rolling onto his back and letting out a loud sigh. “I’ll join you in a moment, okay?”

Phoebe nodded and carefully sat at the edge of the bed, reaching out for her undergarments and the black shirt Michael had thrown on the floor last night. She put it on her arms, covered her back with it, and quickly left the bedroom.

She marched downstairs and reached the doors that were leading to the backyard. She opened them and was about to cross the threshold when she heard an unknown woman’s voice coming from the living room.

She froze as if she was caught red-handed and slowly turned towards the source of the sound.

No way. It could not be...

“I don’t even know to say except my husband has a fucking nerve to bring you here,” the woman said in a stone-cold voice. She was more or less Michael’s age, dressed in a white tennis suit and matching sneakers. Her brown hair was pinned in a ponytail, and her light green eyes were staring right back at Phoebe, who was now standing turned towards her, covering herself with Michael’s shirt.

“I’m Amanda. Amanda de Santa,” she introduced herself, “but you probably figured it out, didn’t you?”

Phoebe felt a gulp in her throat as she replied: “I did.” 

“I wish I could say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but we both know it’s not.”

“Maybe if we met under other circumstances.”

“Maybe,” Amanda faked a smile. “At least now I understand why my husband fancies you. You’re so his type. A little, slender girl he can easily dominate. You don’t ask questions and do what he asks for. I can feel you’ve already had a taste of it,” she pointed, tapping the left side of her neck with his pointing finger and making Phoebe cover the bitemark she had with her hair. “Anyway, where’s he?”

“Upstairs,” Phoebe answered shortly. “Listen,” she added, finding the courage to speak up. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Michael, but from what he told me, you and he are pretty much done.”

“Oh, are we? Michael mentioned something about the divorce, but well, he’s not the only one to decide.” Her words were filled with confidence. “I know my husband .” She was doing her best to make this particular word sound louder than the others. “I know who he is. I know he likes distractions, but trust me... At the end of the day, he always comes back to me. His wife. So, if I were you, I wouldn’t take his words too seriously.” 

Phoebe glared at her, not expecting her words to hurt her this much. It was as if she knew exactly what was bothering Phoebe and had no boundaries holding her back from using it. Little did she know, Amanda was not planning on stopping right there, too. Using the opportunity that just appeared, she continued: “I’m surprised you even want to deal with a man like Michael. This type is hard to handle.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve been handling him quite well so far.” Phoebe could stop herself from biting back. She knew Amanda was telling her all these things to get on her nerves, but at the same time, she could not stop them.

“So, has he already told you that he didn’t get the mansion for being a, as he likes to call himself, aspiring movie producer ?” Amanda asked, and from the look on Phoebe’s face, she knew the other woman had no clue what she was asking her about. “Poor girl, you have no idea who you’re dealing with. Let me tell you something, just between us, girls—”

“Amanda? What the hell are you doing here?” Michael asked once he entered the living room, buttoning a fresh white shirt he had just put on. 

“From what I remember... I live here,” she replied, without even bothering herself to look at him. “So do our kids if you forgot. Keep that in mind the next time you’re going to bring another woman to our bedroom.”

“It hasn’t been our bedroom for some time now,” he marked, stopping closer to Phoebe and folding his arms. He had no idea Amanda was planning to come back home any time soon, so seeing her in the mansion was disturbing to him. The fact Phoebe was there, too, was making it even more difficult to handle. “What do you want? I guess you’re not here just because you want to ruin my morning.” He decided it would be wiser to go straight to the point instead of arguing with Amanda in front of Phoebe.

“You’re right. I dropped by to tell you I’m willing to sign divorce papers, but then, I saw your new girl and I changed my mind,” she turned around and grabbed a few sheets of paper that were lying on the kitchen table. Then, she tore them apart, letting the pieces fall on the floor. “I have a better idea now, and I’m certainly not going to make it easy for you.”

“Then the hard way, it is,” Michael hissed, clenching his fists. “That’s it?”

“Not yet.” Amanda took a step towards Phoebe, who instinctively took a step back. “As I was saying, you must have a thing for former robbers, dear. Maybe it’s time you ask Michael what he was doing till not so long ago instead of being just his... plaything .”

And that was how Amanda dropped a bomb Michael was not ready for. He was so caught off guard, he did not know how to react while she continued speaking: “Don’t act so surprised. You had to wonder where all these good things come from, didn’t you?”

“Stop it,” Michael snapped at his wife, pointing the way out with his right hand. “Get out,” he added, and Amanda smiled in response. “Now!”

“Someone had to tell you, dear,” she said to Phoebe. “What you’re going to do about it, it’s up to you. Oh, and Michael,” she added, turning to him. “This ain’t over.” Amanda waved him goodbye and, without saying another word, she left. 

The sound of slammed doors followed her leaving.

When the silence filled the place, and they were left just in two, Michael turned to Phoebe, who was trying to gather her thoughts after what she had just witnessed. 

“Phoebe…”

“What was she talking about, Michael?” she asked him, feeling her legs tremble under her weight. 

She was scared. She was scared because she felt as if she did not know who was standing right in front of her, even if this face and voice were so familiar to her.

“Let me explain,” he said calmly, taking a step towards her to take her hand, but she withdrew it before he even managed to touch it. “Hey—”

“Don’t touch me,” she told him firmly. “What did she mean, Michael? What is it you’re not telling me?”

“I… Fuck. I wanted… I was waiting for a good moment...” He was searching for words, but somehow, they did not want to come. 

“You had a good moment yesterday. I asked you what was going on with you and you trailed me off… You had your chance, but you let it slip.” She shook her head, putting what Amanda said to her into one piece. “This house… The cars... It must’ve cost a fortune. I should’ve figured it out sooner… God, I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Phoebe, it’s my fault… Hear me out, please.”

“I don’t think I want to hear your explanation right now.” She looked down. “I sometimes… I think I don’t know you at all,” she confessed, feeling as if her worst nightmare was coming true at that moment. “I thought… I thought we had something… I don’t know what to think. I should’ve figured out something was wrong once Trevor stepped across this doorstep. This man always means trouble, doesn’t he?”

“Wait, you know Trevor?” This time it was Michael who got confused. 

“Unfortunately, I do. What surprises me is that Trevor didn’t say a word to you, Michael, especially after I turned him down, because I wanted to be loyal to you,” Phoebe puffed. 

“Wait, I don’t understand…”

“You don’t have to,” she replied and out of sudden, felt an urge to leave. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I want to go home, so I’m just gonna grab my things and leave, Mike. Please, don’t make me stay, I… I can’t do this—I can’t…” She had managed to say before she felt woozy. The world spun around her head, and it seemed as if for a moment, she lost control over her body. She did not know what was going on when she touched her nose and realised it was bleeding, but it made her even more scared.

“Hey, hey, I’m here…” She heard Michael saying once he grabbed her under the ribs. “I got you.” He helped her reach the couch and lay down. “Phoebe?” he asked once he crouched beside the white leathered couch. “Phoebe…”

But the second time he said her name, she could not recall.


I’m pathetic , Daniel thought as he opened another bottle of beer in his studio apartment in the middle of the desert. The air was dry and still, so it was hard to breathe in the heat; he took off his shirt, but it did not help much. His slim torso was all covered in drops of sweat, and there was no chance it would change any time soon. 

I’m all alone now. Daniel did not want to accept this nagging thought that had been keeping him awake for the few past days. He was not a soft type, but the loss of his mother broke him. The fact his sister did not even want to look at him was making him feel even worse. 

In fact, Phoebe did not want to have anything to do with him. After she had picked up his call, she did not talk to him again. Not even a single word. He dealt with all these formalities to their mother’s funeral on his own, and that was it. There was nothing left that was connecting him and Phoebe. 

Damn it. 

It felt as if he did not know the person she was anymore. He saw the advertisement with her in one of these shitty tabloids he used to browse when he was bored and could not believe his eyes. Was she into modelling now? It was so not like her. Not like Phoebe. Even if she looked stunning in this photo, he knew it was not her world. Or was it? Many things had changed, so maybe that was one of them, too. 

The other thing he could not believe in was that Phoebe dared to bring her new guy to their mother’s funeral. He had never liked his sister’s boyfriends but this one... Daniel did not trust him - not that he could have any word on that matter. Maybe he was jealous? Or maybe, it was his brother’s intuition that was telling him this man, his sister was seeing, was no good. 

Or maybe he was just searching for a problem.

Trevor was right about one thing. 

It was a high time for him to grow up. 

His sister moved on, so why wouldn’t he do the same? He could not carry on like this forever, stuck in his apartment, licking wounds that probably would never fully heal. 

Daniel put away the bottle and, from the pocket of his jeans, he pulled out his phone. He scrolled through the contact list till he reached letter T and stopped his thumb at the contact Dan had sworn he would never call again. 

He dialled the number and patiently waited on the line. 

“Daniel,” he heard a familiar voice. “You’re the last person I expected to hear from in my life. What the fuck you want?”

“I need… I need a job. A job I won’t screw this time,” Daniel responded directly, swallowing the rest of his dignity and pride. 

“And what makes you think I have one for you? After the last time, you still owe me.”

“I know, but I…”

“But what?”

“I’ve reached a dead end, Trevor. I have no one else to turn, but you,” Dan told him through the phone. “I want to get back on my feet and stop being…”

“A cunt?” Trevor interjected, and a scornful laugh followed his words. “That’s a goal, Daniel. I might contact you when I have a job for you, but no promises.”

“Thanks, Trevor,” Daniel responded. “You won’t regret that.”

“I guess we’ll see about that,” Trevor said, and for a few seconds none of them spoke a word. “I’ve heard about your mother, by the way. I’m sorry about her. She was a good woman. How is Phoebe—”

“Thanks for your condolences. I don’t want to talk about Phoebe, though,” he cut Trevor off. “We’re not each other’s problems anymore.”

“I can’t quite believe that, but so be it.” Daniel could hear a note of surprise in Trevor’s voice. “We’re in touch, Dan,” he added then hung up. 

Daniel put away the phone on the brown, worn couch and leaned his back against the cushion. He let out a sigh, biting his bottom lip and thinking about what he had done. What was supposed to help him get back on his feet felt like a walk straight in the lion’s den. 

Scary. 

But a man, who had nothing to lose, could only gain.

Chapter 17: The Bitter Truth

Chapter Text

Phoebe opened up her eyes slowly, feeling as if much time passed while it probably was three or four minutes since she lost her consciousness. She opened up her eyes and what she saw first was Michael’s bothered face. He was hovering over her with a paper towel in his right hand and carefully brushing her chin with it. 

“It’s okay, I got you,” he murmured, focused on the task, which was wiping the blood away from her face. She reached to her nose and realised it was still bleeding and a metal taste of blood was already sensible in her mouth. “I have to admit, I’ve never seen such a heavy nosebleed. Does it happen often?”

“No. When it does, though, it’s always h-heavy,” she coughed and tried to propped on her elbows. “I’ve always had a poor blood clotting, so when I bleed, I lose a lot of blood,” she told him, feeling her temples painfully pulsating. “I don’t feel well, Michael…”

“Alright, let me help you up,” he suggested, gently pulling her up to sit. When her head hung down, the bleeding intensified, and a few drops of blood dripped on her thighs and the white leathered couch. 

“Damn,” she hissed while Michael handed her another piece of the paper towel. “Your couch… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her, and she placed the paper under her nose, pressing it hard to it. “It’s just blood. Nothing I can’t wash out later.” She curled up her lips in a weak smile. Her head rested on his right arm when he sat down beside her. They were sitting like this for a while, waiting for the bleeding to stop. 

Michael did not get scared often, but it was one of the situations, in which he could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. Perhaps this whole thing with Amanda was too much for Phoebe, and he did not blame her. He wished that he could erase this, go back and never let Phoebe out of his bed, tell her how beautiful she was and how much she meant to him, but it seemed too late for that. 

It was too late. 

His secrets, the ones he had wanted to keep away from her, were out, and he had to find a way to explain himself. He eventually had to tell her the truth, hoping he would not hate him for it.

“Feeling any better?” he asked when she moved, intending to get up. 

“Not really, but I can’t stay here, Michael. I… I don’t want to stay here, knowing your wife might come back any second with another revelation…” Phoebe replied, trying to get up from the couch on her own, but as soon as she got on her feet, the world spun around again.

“Hey, hey, easy.” He reacted immediately, catching her before she lost her balance. “You’re not going anywhere, not when you can barely stand. I won’t risk you getting hurt.”

She turned her head towards him, and their eyes locked in a gaze. It was different, though. It did not feel the same as when she was looking at him last night, with desire and affection. She was looking at him and her dark brown eyes were now empty, tired. “Then take me home yourself.”

“No,” he opposed. “I would feel much safer if you…”

“You would feel safer,” she interjected. “Not me.”

She was right and he was selfish by trying to change her mind the way he wanted it.

He was thinking about what felt good to him, not her. He was thinking about himself and it was the main reason, he kept postponing telling her the truth for so long. 

He could not do much about that now, could he?

“You’re right. I’ll go grab your things from upstairs and drive you home,” he said in a matter of fact tone, realising he was the only one to blame in this situation. It was not Phoebe’s or even Amanda’s fault. It was his, and if that was the price for his mistakes and reckless decisions, then so be it. “I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, so Michael hurried upstairs, and came back with her shoes and dress after a minute or so. She took off his shirt and put her dress back on, but did not bother herself with walking in heels, so the road to his Tailgater went barefoot. He offered her his help, but she declined it, deciding she would manage, even if it would require crawling to his car.

However, her self confidence ended the moment they reached her place, and there were plenty of stairs to overcome. Weakened and dizzied, it would take ages to reach her flat, so she was not opposing when Michael offered to carry her upstairs. It was not the first time he did that, anyway. 

Once they entered her apartment, Phoebe directed her steps straight to the bathroom to wash the rest of the blood off her face. She looked into the mirror and saw how bad she looked. Her hair was messy, make-up long gone and her chin smeared with blood didn't look well. She did not feel well, either, so it kinda matched. 

She took off her dress, and for a few minutes, she was gaping at her bruised hips. “Fuck,” she whispered, and then it hit her. In one moment, she realised how much it hurt, and it was not because of the bruises, but her heart. She did not want to believe in what Amanda told her, but it would not be the first time Michael lied to her. 

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she did not know what to think. She wanted to believe it was just a silly joke and Michael would explain it to her, but she was aware of the facts that could have been the proof that what Amanda was saying was true. 

She could not do that right now… She could not…

“Phoebe, is everything okay?” Michael asked, concerned. A second later, she walked out of the bedroom with a face as if she had just seen a ghost. “Phoebe?”

“No, nothing is okay, Michael,” she replied weakly. “I hope you'll manage to wash the blood out of your couch. If not, I can pay for the cleaning—”

“Stop it. I don’t care about fucking couch,” he fired back and followed her to the bedroom. “I’m worried about you. Do you need anything?”

“Yes. I need you to leave me alone.” The answer was as simple as that. 

“Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” she cut him off. “That’s what I want.”

It was not easy, but Michael obeyed. He had let himself watch Phoebe lie down on the bed and cover herself with a blanket before he left, closing the door behind his back. He locked it with a key, she used to keep under her doormat and returned to his car.

He hit the drivers wheel angrily, pouring his frustration out on it. It could not end like that. He did not even have a chance to explain himself to her, to clean the mess Amanda had made when she appeared in the mansion. But what was he going to say to Phoebe? Amanda was not lying. She was telling the truth; the truth he had been hiding from Phoebe way too long. 

It was all on him.

And he could only wish she would hear him out.


Maybe asking Michael to leave was a bit radical, but back then, it was the only thing that came to Phoebe's mind and had some sense in it. She did not want to do something stupid, said too much and above all, she needed some rest before she could even force herself to think about what had happened in the morning.

By the time she got out of her bed, it was already dark outside.

She did not want to eat because she felt no hunger. She drank some water only because she did not want to risk getting dehydrated, not because she actually felt thirst. 

She had no energy to get up, and if she could, she would definitely stay in her bed for days to come, but there was no such option.

The good thing was that she no longer felt pain, or at least, it was not physical. The shower she took after she had woken up from a few hours nap washed away the feeling of being pathetic, and there she was, standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom. She examined her body, the bruises, the scars she had on her lower belly and the one that marked her left thigh. 

If bodies could tell stories, hers was definitely telling one. The story of the girl who trusted too easily and set her hopes too high. The girl who wanted to be important to someone. The girl who failed in not becoming everything she did not want to be. 

She dried her hair and made a messy ponytail of it. Then, she put on a fresh set of clothes: black joggers and a cropped, plain, hoodie and that was also when she reminded herself of the necklace from Michael that was still hanging on her neck. For a moment, she wanted to take it off, but she did not.

There was no point in doing so because Michael was on her mind either way. 

Just when she returned to her bedroom, her phone buzzed on the shelf, and a message from him appeared on the screen. Perfect timing, as usual.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. Just woke up.” She replied, hoping he would not bother her with his explanations that night, but as soon as the new message appeared on the screen, she gave up on her hope.

“Can I drop by to talk?” Of course, he wanted to talk. It was always the way he wanted it to be, wasn’t it? However, this time, this conversation was inevitable, and Phoebe knew the sooner they would talk, the quicker she would get answers for the questions that were bothering her.

“If you have to.” She felt this weird feeling in her belly, telling her she was getting nervous. Nothing had ever been as stressing as ‘we have to talk’ situations for her. 

She did not know what to expect and feared she might not get the answers she wanted to hear. What if it was all true? What if something was wrong, but she was too blinded to see it? What if she was fooling herself all this time?

She could not breathe.

She managed to sit down, and calm down a little, scribbling a message to Amy in which she explained why she was not responding to the dozens of texts she had sent to her when a doorbell rang. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been waiting by the doors this whole time,” Phoebe said once she saw Michael at the doorstep. “You texted me…” she peeked at the screen of her phone she was still holding in her hand, “three minutes ago?”

“I was nearby, cruising down the city,” he explained briefly. “Can I come in?” 

“Actually, since you’re here I would like to smoke,” she replied, closing the doors and approaching the metal railing. “Do you still have a pack of cigarettes in your jacket?”

He reached to his left pocket then handed her the pack of cigarettes she had asked for. “The lighter is inside.”

She nodded, pulling out a cigarette along with the lighter and a second later, breathed out a small cloud of white smoke. 

“You look better.” Michael tried to find a way to start a conversation, but Phoebe quickly cut him off.

“Say what you’ve got to say and let’s get it over with.”

“Where do I start?” he puffed, leaning against the railing. 

“At the beginning.”

And so, he began talking. 

He told her how it all started, how he got into the business with his best friends, what had happened in North Yankton years ago and what led him to the point where he was. From having nothing to a big mansion in Rockford Hills, having a wife and two (already) grown-up kids and the life many people could only dream of. He did not miss any detail about what he had to do or what he had to sacrifice to get there.

He told her about Trevor and their friendship that had always been like a bumpy road. He told her about Amanda and their marriage that happened just because she was pregnant with his daughter. He told her about his kids who had never accepted who he was and the obstacles he had to face through the years.

“I’m not proud of what I was doing throughout all these years, but... I couldn’t resign from it. It kept my heart racing. It kept me alive,” Michael was saying, and from his voice, Phoebe could hear that talking about all these things was not easy. “This is… This is something I’m not proud of, but it’s also who I am. I can’t erase my past, what I did…”

“But if you could… Would you?” Phoebe asked, feeling her throat running dry. She did not know how to react to everything Michael had told her. 

It was a lot to process. 

“I don’t know, Phoebe,” he replied after a long while. “I wish I told you the truth soon, but what was I supposed to say? I’m a former robber, generally a bad guy? Would you like to have anything to do with me then? I… I don’t want to be seen as a bad guy. Whenever someone finds out about that, that’s the only thing they can see. Bad.”

Silence. 

Phoebe threw away another cigarette butt, feeling this familiar scratching in her throat; the one she always felt when she smoked too many cigarettes.

“This is fucked up, Michael,” she said, brushing back her hair with both of her hands. “For a moment I was thinking you were telling me a story you made up, but the way you were telling it… I don’t know what to think.” She sighed deeply. 

Michael was not responding.

“Would you… would you tell me about it if it wasn’t for Amanda? Or were you planning on lying to me till you would eventually get bored of me?”

“I… I wanted to tell you, but I… I didn’t want to lose you.” 

“So lying to someone you don’t want to lose is better than telling them the truth? Do you have any idea how I felt when she told me? Like I meant nothing and was your plaything, indeed.”

“It’s not better… I know I screwed up, and Amanda had no right to act the way she did towards you. I’m going to talk to my lawyers and put an end to it.”

“Why? She’s your wife, Michael while I...” she paused. “Who am I for you? You don’t have to reply, because I know you don’t know the answer to that, but... Think about it. Maybe Amanda was right? Maybe I’m your distraction?”

“Don’t say so. You know it’s not true. I care about you, Phoebe.” Michael opposed. “What do you want me to say? How do you want me to call you?”

“It’s not about how I want you to call me or what I want you to say to me!” She could no longer hide the frustration that was growing up inside her. “Is this… Is everything that you said to me… Is that all? No more secrets?” He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. “Michael?”

“There’s one more thing I haven’t told you about yet,” he said eventually, setting his eyes on her, “but I have no idea how to say it to you.” 

“Is there something much worse than figuring out the man you slept with has a wife and is a criminal?” She puffed. “Just say it. I’ll try not to faint or bleed out on you this time.” 

“Phoebe…”

“You tell me everything or we have nothing else to talk about.”

Michael had taken a deep breath and grunted before he asked: “Remember the night you got shot?”

It was a rhetorical question. How could she not?

“I… I wasn’t there by accident. I was… Trevor and I were chasing some guys who had messed with him. The shooting began and… I’m so sorry, Phoebe.”

“Wait… What you’re trying to say…” She did not quite understand what he meant, but after he hung his head, it all started making sense to her. “You didn’t…”

“I did,” he countered. “I was the one who shot you.” 

Phoebe froze.

She was not prepared to hear such a confession coming from him. She thought he could not surprise her much more, but then, he dropped another bomb. The one she was not ready for at all, but this time, she was tough. She did not shed a single tear. Not until she realised this thing she had just heard could change everything she believed in. 

“It was an accident,” Michael continued, seeing her face getting pale. “I swear I would never… I didn’t want that. When I realised what I did I…”

“Was sorry?” she finished for him, her voice weakened when she realised what that meant. “Was that the reason you left the flowers and took me out, too?”

“I was sorry, and yes, I did leave the flowers for you because I wanted to make it up to you somehow… I didn’t expect you to text me, though. When we first met in that cafe… You looked so pretty, your smile was so bright and eyes so alluring…”

“You can’t be serious,” she uttered. “I can’t believe it… I can’t believe the reason you wanted to see me was that you were trying to numb your sense of guilt! You did… I almost bled out on the street because of you and you kept acting as if nothing happened!”

“I wanted to tell you! I wanted to find the right moment and tell you all about what I did. I wanted you to know the truth about me, but I was scared. For the first time in a long time, someone was not judging me and did not look at me… Like this,” he said quietly, nodding at her. “It’s this look I was so scared of.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No,” he replied. “I’m so sorry, Phoebe.”

“I don’t know, Michael,” she wiped the tears out of her cheeks with the outer side of her right hand. “I thought I was confused earlier, but now… I think I need a break from… Whatever we are.”

“Wait… No… Please.” He gave her a pleading look. 

“Michael! Can you hear yourself?” she asked, taking a step back from the railing. “It ain’t gonna work!” She realised what she said when these words escaped her mouth. It was not something she wanted, but it was something she had to do. “I’m sorry, but I can’t,” she whispered and was about to leave when Michael grabbed her left forearm.

“Are you gonna walk away just like that?” His right hand tightened on her flesh. 

“What else did you expect? Should I run into your arms as if nothing happened? You lied to me! You’ve been lying to me since the start, and if it wasn’t for your wife you would probably keep lying to me, waiting for god knows what!” Phoebe snapped at him, feeling the tears running down her cheeks. “I feel… I feel like a goddamn fool, so I’m done playing your games.” She freed her forearm out of his grasp. “Goodbye, Michael,” she said, and that was when Michael stopped thinking clearly.

She managed to make a few steps towards the doors when he got to her, blocking her from walking away from him. She could not do that, not when he had just exposed himself to her, showing her who he truly was. 

Or maybe she could, and that was the right thing for her to do; to walk away and leave his lying ass behind. She deserved better, Michael knew that. He knew everything in theory, but in practice, he could not let her go.

“Let me pass,” she demanded, feeling her heart racing in her chest. She wanted to believe he would do her no harm, but at that moment, she was not sure of a damn thing. “Please…” she muttered, taking a few steps back till her back touched the wall of the building. He placed both of his hands on the wall and she was in the middle with no possibility of escape. “Let me go.” Her voice trembled. “I’m scared of you.”

Scared of you

No words had ever hurt Michael as much as these. He immediately backed off, keeping his hands up in a surrounding gesture. He would never hurt her and yet, he understood why she was scared. He understood even if it felt as if someone punched him right in the face. 

“Phoebe, are you—is everything alright?” They both turned towards the source of a sound and saw Amy standing aside, watching this whole scene. “You texted me back and left me hanging again, so I thought I would come and check on you—”

“Everything is just fine,” Phoebe responded, hoping her voice would not reveal that nothing was fine. “Michael's already leaving, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. “Goodbye, Phoebe. Amy,” he nodded at her once he passed her and a moment later, he was gone. 

“What did just happen?” Amy had a feeling her friend was not completely honest with her; the look on her face was telling a different story. 

Phoebe could not force a word to come out of her mouth. Once she was sure Michael was gone from her sight, she burst into tears. She sobbed when Amy hugged her, not daring to ask another question. 

Besides, her woman’s intuition told her what had just happened.

Chapter 18: Some Things Never Change

Chapter Text

Amanda! ” Michael roared, walking into his mansion. He saw his wife’s house parked on the driveway, so he was almost sure she was somewhere inside. He slammed his car keys and phone on the counter then hurried to the living room where his wife was peacefully watching a movie on the projector.

He had been cruising down the city for over an hour, trying to get his thoughts together. It did not work. He was rancorous. Phoebe’s words, no matter how painful, were true. He screwed up so bad there was no way back from it.

He felt awful. He felt as if he lost her, lost the woman he started to feel something for just because he was reckless and lied to her, even though he knew it was wrong. He could have learned something from the past and be straightforward with her from the very start.

“Back this early?” Amanda reluctantly turned her head to look at her husband. “I mean, I knew it would be bad, because how else could it be, but was it this bad?”

“I’m gonna have divorce papers delivered to you in the morning,” Michael hissed, moving in front of her, “and you’re gonna sign them because I’m done playing your games, Amanda.”

“You’re so angry, I assume there was no makeup sex,” she taunted, letting out a deep chuckle. “So, this poor girl eventually realised who she’s dealing with.”

“Her name is Phoebe, and you don’t know a damn thing about her.”

“You’re right, but I know everything about you, this look on your face included. I guess things didn’t go as planned, and she didn’t want to listen to your apologies?”

“Stop messing with me,” Michael stated firmly. “You’ve done enough, don’t you think?”

“But you’re so fun to mess with.” Amanda put away the glass of wine she was holding in her right hand and folded her arms. “I ain’t gonna sign a damn thing, Michael. Why would I give you divorce? We can still work on our marriage as we always do.”

“No, we can’t work on it! Are you really that blind, Amanda? Our marriage’s been done for years!” The anger took control over him, so he stopped thinking of what was the right thing to say and laid his cards on the table. “I don’t love you anymore.”

“Because you’re in love with her?” she puffed, too proud to show him his words hurt. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

It was a question Michael did not expect to hear, not from his wife, at least.

“It's none of your business,” he muttered eventually, hoping she would not dig.

“I’ve been with you for years! I gave you children and stayed with you, knowing how fucked up you are, and now you dare to tell me you don’t love me anymore just because you’re going through some midlife crisis and simply can’t keep it in your pants?” she snapped at him, getting up on her feet.

“I can’t keep it in my pants, huh? What about you, flawless wife? What about Fabien or other guys who kept you entertained in, as you say, our bedroom?” he fired back, angrier than intended. “Let’s face it, Amanda. If you ever did love me, you stopped doing it a long time ago.”

“So you did.”

“What are we still doing together in that case?” he asked, knowing he would get no answer, especially when she looked down. “Yeah, I don’t know that, either. I was trying my hardest, you were never satisfied, so I think it’s high time we let go of something that doesn’t have sense anymore.”

“You were never trying your hardest,” Amanda countered, raising up her sight after a while. “You were always thinking about you. You, you, you, and what you want. It’s no different this time because you never learn!”

“You’ve never seen good in me, I know. The worst husband ever, eh? Let’s forget about the life I gave you! If it wasn’t for me, you would have nothing, Amanda. No mansion, no money, no tennis court and no toyboys to pick from—” Michael said, and that was when his left cheek met the palm of Amanda’s hand. 

“You have no right to talk to me this way!” she yelled, losing the control over her voice.

“And you have no right to treat me or someone important to me the way you do!” He took a step back, knowing he might not be able to hold himself back if he remained too close. “This ends now, Amanda. I’m done, and I don’t want to see you in this house anymore.”

“You can’t do that—”

“Don’t worry,” Michael continued, “I made sure you’re gonna have enough money to buy yourself a house where you won’t have to look at my face anymore or bear with me. Trace and Jim can pick where they want to live.”

“You’re gonna regret this choice. You…” Her voice cracked and her eyes filled up with tears. “You’re gonna end up alone!”

I regret many choices , Michael thought but did not dare to say out loud. It did not matter, anyway. He reached the point where ending up alone was much better than being with a woman who despised him. 

He walked to the kitchen to pour himself a drink, ignoring Amanda shouting at him in the background. He couldn't care less. No matter what she would do could not hurt him as much as the fact Phoebe was scared of him. 

Let me go. I’m scared of you.

He could not get these words out of his head.


Michael was not the only one hurting, because it was not easy for Phoebe, either. 

She felt betrayed, angry and disappointed about this whole situation. She followed her mind but was not sure whether it was the right choice, because she could not believe it all ended this way. 

It would have been much easier if she was not in love with Michael. If she wasn’t, she could think rationally and move on. But she could not, even if it seemed to be the only thing to do.

It would be foolish of her to make the same mistake twice. She forgave him when he forgot to mention he was married, but somehow, it was much harder to forgive him not telling her who he really was. Was she so not trustworthy? She wished she knew. 

She thought they were close, but maybe not that close. She wanted to believe it was more to him than just a fling, that his actions were real and even though he lied to her, she mattered. 

The more she thought, the less she knew. 

Maybe this break from him would do her good. She would have more time to figure out what she felt, what she wanted and whether she would ever be able to trust him again. However, she missed him and for most of the time, all she could think of was whether to call him or not. 

Michael kept sending her texts saying he was sorry, but she could not force herself to respond to any of them. It felt as if two people were fighting inside her - one of them wanted Michael and the other knew it was wiser to stay away.

The worst was she had no clue who to listen to. 

She did not even know how to explain to Amy what happened, so she briefly told her that Michael and she got into the fight, and they both needed some space. Amy did not comment on that, but Phoebe could feel she was in a way glad it happened. She never liked him, knowing he would hurt Phoebe sooner or later, and what was the worst, she was right. 

The thing Amy did not know, though, was how much Michael meant to her friend. She had no idea how important this relationship with him was to Phoebe, especially after everything that had happened in her life. 

But again, it only proved she had her hopes set too high. 

With a heavy heart, she was trying to move on. Every day felt the same and the void was not getting smaller. The bruises on her body disappeared, but they did not take the pain away. 

If it was so easy to fall in love, why wasn’t it so easy to fall back out of it? 

Phoebe wished she knew that, too.


The days were passing, and Daniel did not waste any time.

After he had called Daniel a few days later, offering him a job, there was no turning back. He had to prove Trevor he was worth his time, worth his attention and money he was paying to him. He had to prove that he eventually manned up, which seemed to be a high time for a thirty-five-year-old man. How could he expect to be treated seriously if he did not act as if he was serious about things he did?

When he was running errands for Trevor, he knew there was no place for mistakes or moments of weakness. There was no place for a failure. 

Besides, it gave him an illusion of control over his life. Even if he was only a minion for Trevor, this whole thing felt like coming back to the past, to the time when Daniel thought he had control over his life for real. When everything was relatively good, a long time before he lost it all.

He groaned, lifting two 22 pounds weights, and the veins showed on his toned forearms and the muscles tense on his bare torso. It had been a while since the last time he exercised, so he had a long way to go before he would get back in the shape he wanted, but he was serious about getting back on track. This whole plan he had, including him getting back the real control, was keeping him motivated and determined. For the first time in years, he felt as if things were about to improve for him.

He stopped thinking about his sister, or at least, he stopped thinking obsessively about her and let her go. It did not mean that he stopped caring, though. He simply realised that he would not move forward with his life if he would not let her live hers without him included.

He had to focus on the task. He had to focus on getting back other things he had lost throughout the years. He had to focus and…

“Back to the roots or was there something wrong with your previous place?” The doors of the garage opened and Trevor walked in.

“You should learn to knock,” Daniel said, still focused on the exercise. “The rent was pretty high since no one lives here, I figured I can move back,” he added. “As far as I know, Phoebe doesn’t want this place, so there’s no problem.”

“What if one day she will want it?” 

“Well, I think she’s more into mansions now,” Daniel puffed. “However, if she changes her mind, I’ll be glad to share the house with her.” 

“Where’s the old Dan? You surely don’t sound or act like him,” Trevor hinted. “Maybe that’s for the better. Keep not being you and working like that,” he reached to the pocket of his worn-out, light jeans and pulled out a few one-hundred dollars bills, “and I think we’ll both gain on it.”

“That’s the plan, Trevor,” Dan breathed out. “To gain a lot and not lose a bit.”

Trevor snickered as he placed the bills on the wooden countertop by the wall. He looked around, examining the small garage Daniel had turned to be his private gym, then walked to the bench to sit down as he asked: “So, what really happened between you and Phoebe?” 

“You can’t let go of it, can you?” The younger man rolled up his eyes. “You know well what happened.”

“I didn’t mean the obvious.”

Daniel sighed, putting the weights on the ground. “I ain’t talking about it. I don’t know why you keep bringing it up, either.”

“So, wouldn’t you like what’s going on with your sister?” Trevor frowned. “You’re cutting yourself off… Just like that?” 

“I guess?” Daniel shrugged after he had leaned against the counter where Trevor put the money a few moments ago. “I’m trying to move on. My sister ain’t that little anymore and apparently, she doesn’t need me around.”

“Yeah, I’m quite sure Michael’s been keeping her  busy-busy  these days,” Trevor joked and in return, he received a glare. “What? Come on! You’re big enough to know they’re not staring into each other’s eyes all the time.”

“Don’t even start,” Daniel warned him. “I can’t stand this guy. My sister deserves better than some rich, but grumpy and sophisticated prick.”

“That’s what you think of him?”

“What else can I think of him? I saw him twice and he didn’t make the best impression on me,” Daniel looked to the side and seemed to get lost in thought. “It doesn’t matter now, right? What I think doesn’t matter, because my words and opinions stopped mattered to Phoebe a long time ago.”

“I think you should get to know him,” Trevor said after a period of silence. “Maybe working with him at some point will be necessary, so you could work on your attitude towards him.”

“What?” Daniel’s eyes returned to Trevor. “What do you mean by working with him?”

“Didn’t I mention about my pal Michael to you?” A scornful laugh escaped Trevor’s mouth. “Oh right, he and I aren’t always on the same side, but fuck me, this guy is a pro. If we want to make some good money, we might need him at some point.”

“So…” Daniel was trying to put it all together. “Is he a version of you, but in an expensive suit?” 

“No one’s like me, sugar,” Trevor fired back. “We’ve been friends and working together for years, so I trust him even if he’s a pain in the ass sometimes.”

“Wait—No fucking way. Does Phoebe know what he really does? My sister… Oh, hell no. I knew he couldn’t be trusted—” 

“He’s just like me and you, don’t panic. He’s nothing Phoebe has not dealt with before,” Trevor pondered. “What is different is that Michael could give her the life she never had. All she will have to do will be lying by the pool in a very skimpy bikini and smile whenever Michael and his ego come right in.” 

“Can you hear yourself, Trevor? Phoebe’s not someone’s pretty doll. She’s clever, self-efficient and she needs no man…”

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” A chuckle escaped Trevor’s mouth. “I’m sure she doesn’t mind some sweet loving from a guy who spoils her like a child.”

“Fuck you, Trevor,” Daniel hissed. “Stop. It.”

“Why? I’m not asking you to love this guy, but to accept the fact you might be working with him sooner than later,” Trevor said. “The job I’m planning will require the best people. Are you one of them, Dan?”

“I’ve done merely a few works for you. Besides, we’re talking about business. I don’t need to know what he does with my sister, for god's sake—”

“If I want you both on the same side, I have to make sure you won’t jump to each other’s throats the second you meet. You don’t need to know what he does with her, but accepting the fact he does it with her can be helpful.”

“Since when you’re a specialist on these matters?” 

“I know my job, and I know that when people work together, the worst thing that can happen is one of them holding grudge against another,” Trevor got up from the bench. “I don’t want the job to be ruined because you two can’t get along.”

“As long as you don’t mention Phoebe, I’ll be fine,” Daniel sent him a fake smile. “Now if you excuse me--”

“God, you’re so tense, Dan! How long’s it been since you had a girl just for yourself, huh? Lucky for you, I have a few girls to pick from at Vanilla.” 

“Trevor--” Daniel wanted to oppose, but he knew there was no point. If there was a plan in Trevor’s head, nothing could change it.

“Come on,  swollen balls ,” he mocked, directing his steps outside. “Your muscles are already pumped enough for the day.”


It was not the first time Daniel visited Vanilla, but he had never been treated this way before. He used to watch the girls from afar, not getting even close to them for a second, and now, he was in the private lounge with a drink in his hand and a pretty girl dancing just for him. 

Trevor let him do, as he said,  whatever the fuck he wanted , but he was far from using this offer. He meant no harm to this girl, who was dancing for him as a part of her job. She was not even that pretty. Not in Daniel’s taste, at least. 

“Are you gonna say something to me, darling?” The woman asked softly. “Any specific requests?”

“Keep dancing.” 

“That’s not what the boss wanted me to do,” she countered. “It wasn’t the only thing, at least.” 

“Sapphire, when you’re with me, I decide. Not Trevor.” Daniel pulled her on his lap, and when she leaned down to kiss him, he stopped her, placing his pointing finger on her lips. “I don’t know what he told you, but I want you to keep dancing for me.”

“As you wish, Dan,” she got off him and filled his request, continuing dancing the way she did before. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

“How much does Trevor pay you for doing whatever he wants you to do?” Daniel asked after some time, still stroking Sapphire’s thigh. 

“He doesn’t,” she replied shortly. “Our clients do, so it’s important they’re satisfied.”

“You could have more if you were… You know, doing it on your own.”

“Who do you think men want to pay more? A stripper in the club or a prostitute on the street?” These questions did not require answers. “See, men like to come here and feel exclusive, even for a while. They usually can’t touch us, which makes them desire us even more, so they pay. In this world, I doubt there’s anything money can’t do.”

“I could name a few things…”

“It’s because you don’t have enough of them,” she returned, turning back to him. “It’s all about perspective.”

“So you say,” Daniel shrugged and reached for the glass. He took a sip of the drink, holding it in his mouth for a moment before he swallowed. “I’m not paying you, though. Why are you doing this then?”

“You’re quite handsome,” she peeked at him over her left shoulder, “and also, it’s my job and I want to keep it. Trevor asked me, so I do what he says.”

“That’s what we have in common,” he muttered. Sapphire sat in his lap again, rubbing her ass against the growing bulge in his jeans. 

“You sure you don’t want to do anything about it?” she asked suggestively. “I can take care of it… If you want to.”

“I’m good,” Daniel replied, brushing the strand of her brown hair off her face. “Maybe next time, okay?” 

“Okay,” Sapphire nodded then left a peck on his rough from stubble cheek. “I’ll stick around,” she added and got off him. Once she adjusted her purple lingerie, she left, waving him goodbye.

Daniel had no intention of leaving the private lounge quickly. As soon as he and Trevor arrived at the strip club, he discovered the real aim of getting there in the first place. 

Michael.

Trevor joined his friend right after Dan had disappeared behind the curtain, which separated the lounge from pry eyes of bodyguards and onlookers. Not that Daniel needed to know what these two were talking about, but he was curious. However, what he did not want was to confront Michael, so he stuck with avoiding him as much as he could.

After a few minutes, he left the lounge, but instead of going to the table where Trevor and Michael were chatting, he went to the bar. If he had to face his sister’s boyfriend, he could at least treat himself with another drink before he could do so. 

He hoped Trevor would not notice him flitting right under his nose, and that was when he bumped into another girl, spilling what was left on his drink on her. 

“I’m so sorry,” he hurried up with an apology.

“You’re lucky I don’t have many clothes on,” the girl giggled, reaching for a napkin from the countertop. “Don’t worry, okay? It happens. You’re not the first and probably not the last guy who spilt his drink on me.”

Daniel did not know what to say as he did not expect such a calm reaction from her. He eyed her, thinking about how he had not noticed her before. She was really pretty; she had long blonde hair, hypnotizing eyes and a smile so pretty, he could watch her giggle all night long.

“I’m Amy,” she introduced herself, holding out her hand to him. 

“Daniel,” he shook her hand gently. 

“You’re the guy Trevor brought with him tonight, right?”

“Right,” Dan confirmed as they both approached the bar. “So, since I spilt my drink on you, what would you say if I bought you one?”

“I’d love to, but I’m working,” Amy responded, leaning against the countertop, “and if Trevor sees that, he won’t be pleased.” She reached for another napkin and rubbed it against her pink lingerie. “You got me good with your drink,” she joked and they both laughed awkwardly. 

“What about after your shift is done?” 

“Are you seriously considering waiting for me almost the whole night?”

“I’m not planning on leaving any sooner, so… Yeah, I’m considering this option,” Dan responded, and Amy’s cheeks reddened a little. “Of course, only if you want to see me. Don’t feel bad about saying no.” 

“Why would I say no?” she countered. “Not every day I have this opportunity to go for a drink with such a gentleman.” Her words definitely boosted Dan’s ego, and he could not hide a small smirk that appeared on his face. “I better get going now, because I don’t want to get in trouble…” 

“From what I’ve seen Trevor’s busy chatting with his friend,” Daniel grabbed her hand, stopping her from leaving. “I guess five extra minutes with me wouldn’t hurt.”

Amy sent him a smile, then looked around, searching for her boss in the room. She could not find him for a while, but when she did, she could not believe who he was chatting with.  Goddamn you, Michael , she thought to herself. Did he really move on so quickly?

“You alright?” Daniel asked, seeing her staring ahead. “Amy?”

“I can’t believe this guy Trevor’s talking to has the nerve to show up here.” She turned back towards him. “He left my friend and now, he’s acting as if nothing happened and… He knows I work here, right? If he had some decency in himself, he shouldn’t come here at all. Oh, men…”

Daniel was confused at her, but then it hit him. It was not that hard to connect what Amy was saying to what he knew, and when he realised what that meant, he had to be sure he did not overthink it. 

“What’s your friend’s name?” he asked, secretly hoping she would say any other name instead of his sister.

“Phoebe,” she responded, and he did not even know how to react to that. “Why are you asking me that?”

Daniel did not reply. His heart began racing, he clenched his fists and let the anger fill his body as he glared in Michael’s direction, holding himself back for a brief moment before he lost it. He was wrestling with his thoughts, wondering whether he should do anything, but then, he realised he could not let it go. 

Not when it was about his sister.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he told Amy, whose face turned pale when she saw what Daniel was about to do, but she did not stop him. There was no chance she would stop him, anyway, because a few seconds later, Daniel reached the table at which Michael was sitting with Trevor, and skipping formalities, he punched Michael right in the face.

From this point, everything happened quickly.

Michael was caught off guard, so it was hard for him to react as quickly as Trevor did when he stepped between his friend and Daniel, preventing the younger man from punching Michael again. 

“Hey, hey, easy!” Trevor pushed Daniel away. “No fighting inside, understood?”

“Fuck!” Michael cursed, feeling the pulsating pain spreading under his left eye, and the second he felt better, he wanted to fight Dan back. He got on his feet and wanted to reach Daniel, but Trevor’s hand pushed him down on the chair. 

“You too,  sugar tits, ” he said and turned back to Daniel. “What the fuck was that Dan? This is what you understand by  cooperation ?”

“Did you know he used and left Phoebe?” Daniel was trying his best to hold back the rage that filled up his body. “Did you know, Trevor?!”

“I didn’t use anyone,” Michael puffed, placing a glass under his left eye. “I don’t know who told you that, but I didn’t use Phoebe. Besides, weren’t you the one to tell me not to judge knowing just one side of the story?”

“It doesn’t matter who told me, and I know just enough to be sure you’re the bastard I always thought you were!” 

“That makes two of us,” Michael fired back. “Big brother Daniel, eh? Now you’re so protective, but where were you when your sister needed her brother? Oh, right, probably doing some stupid shit--”

“I swear, one more word and I’m gonna punch you again,” Daniel hissed, and Michael did not hold back from daring him. 

“Just try,” he said, and Dan was ready to go through Trevor just to prove he was not kidding, but Trevor did not let that happen.

“This ends  now !” Trevor pushed Dan back and turned to Michael. “Not fair, Mike, not fair,” he told him. “We can’t work in this atmosphere. You scare the shit out of my girls, so if you have a problem,  SOLVE IT OUTSIDE !”

Both of the men kept glaring at each other, but none dared to say a word. 

Neither did Amy, who kept watching this whole scene from afar. She realised what she had done seconds after he asked about her friend’s name. It was him. The unfamous Daniel Harris, she only knew from the stories Phoebe told her.

She should have kept her mouth shut, but on the other hand, she did not know… She had never seen Daniel in person before. How could she know…

It did not matter. 

Accidentally or not, she messed up.

Chapter 19: For A Change

Chapter Text

Amy knew she had to fix it.

She quickly grabbed her long jean jacket from the backstage and hurried outside, hoping she would manage to find Daniel somewhere near. She did not have to look far or long as he was standing leaned against Trevor’s truck with his eyes set on his boots. 

The blood was boiling in his veins. He was so pissed, he could not think straight and let his instincts take control over his actions. He could not accept the thought anyone could hurt her sister. He could not accept the fact he was about to work with someone who actually hurt his sister.

He should not have agreed to come with Trevor in the first place, but it was not like he had a choice, anyway.

“Daniel, I’m so sorry,” Amy said when he raised up his sight and saw her standing by him. “I… I guess I should’ve kept my mouth shut… I should’ve figured it out. You and Phoebe are so damn similar,” she started explaining herself, but Daniel did not need any explanation from her. He was not even mad at her, knowing Amy did not do it on purpose. She did not know. She was simply looking after her friend, and he was glad Phoebe had someone like Amy in her life.

“It’s not your fault,” Dan replied, brushing back his short, dark brown hair. “I think… I think I was unconsciously looking for any reason to punch this douche in the face because I’ve wanted to do it for some time now.” That was the truth. The moment Daniel realised the real aim of this whole farce, he knew it would not end well, and what Amy said was a perfect reason to pour his frustration out on Michael.

“If I kept quiet, you wouldn’t have one,” she continued. “I’m so--”

“As I said, it’s not your fault,” he interjected then smiled gently at her. “It’s obvious you care about Phoebe, and I appreciate that a lot. I mean, I don’t know what she told you about me, but…” 

“She wasn’t saying much, to be honest,” Amy interjected, moving to the side and just like Dan, she leaned against Trevor’s truck. “She briefly told me about you and about the fact she’s not in touch with you anymore. The same thing she told me about... your mother. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s okay… I’m okay.”

“Oh, are you?” she questioned. “You don’t look as if you were. I mean, you look just fine, but… I can feel something bigger is bothering you.”

“I just punched my sister’s ex-boyfriend in the face, Amy. Isn’t that a good reason to be bothered?” Dan asked, but Amy tilted her head to the side and looked at him the way he knew she did not believe him at all. “Stop giving me that look, okay?” He sighed. “The thing is… I made some poor choices and now… I want to fix things, but I have no clue how. I… I’m afraid some things can’t be fixed, too.”

“Okay, so first of all, who hasn’t made some poor choices in life? It’s natural to make mistakes. I made dozens of them. Some of them were more serious than the others, but either way, I moved on.”

“I’m pretty sure your mistakes aren’t as bad as mine,” Daniel pointed. 

“It's not a competition,” she returned. “If it was, we would spend the whole night coming up with bigger mistakes we’ve made in our lives.” She stepped in front of him, taking a careful look at his now concerned face. “It’s about your sister, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I… I mean… I understand why she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me, but… She’s my sister, and no matter what happened I still care about her.”

“Just so you know, Phoebe never told me exactly what had happened between you, so I’m gonna know as much as you will tell me.”

“I ain’t gonna tell you much. I don’t want to ruin this night even more,” he said, rolling up the sleeves of his black sweatshirt. “I still owe you a drink, don’t I?”

“We can get it any other day. I don’t want to keep you waiting…”

“I meant it when I said I ain’t going anywhere. I got here with Trevor and I guess, considering what happened, there will be no buses to Sandy Shores till the early morning.”

“Hmm, okay,” she nodded and for a moment, she seemed to get lost in thought. “Since you brought up this drink… How about we go and have one at my place? As your sister’s friend, I feel responsible for you having a place to stay the night. There’s a couch, so you could get some sleep, too. Besides, it seems to be a better place to talk than here.” She did not know why exactly she offered him a place to stay, but it seemed like the right thing to do. Amy wanted to believe Phoebe would do the same thing if she was put in her place. There was also something about Daniel, something she could not explain, that made her want to help him in a need.

“You had me at your place,” Daniel replied and a smirk appeared on his face. 

“Good. I’m gonna go grab my stuff from the backstage and join you in a moment.”

“Wait, Amy,” he said out of sudden, “won’t Trevor be mad at you for leaving?”

“I’m pretty sure he couldn’t care less,” she shrugged. “You want to go with me and make sure he’s fine with that?” 

“I don’t want to face Trevor right now.” 

“I doubt whether it’s about Trevor.” 

“Whatever,” Daniel shook his head and cut off the conversation. Amy walked away, disappearing inside the building and leaving him alone for a few minutes. When she returned, dressed up in grey joggers and a tight, white shirt, she did not look like a girl who had been standing by him a moment ago at all. “You ready?”

“Ready,” she replied. “Let’s go.”

They ordered a taxi, so reaching Amy’s place did not take long. It was late night when she opened the doors of her apartment and with a swift hand’s gesture invited Dan in. When she switched on the lights, he realised her place was rather small. The kitchen was connected with the living room, giving the whole room a little bit more space than it would be if these two rooms were apart, but still, the space was limited.

Amy placed her bag on the floor by the doors as she closed them quietly, then turned to Daniel, who was apparently waiting for her to say something. 

“So, what would you like to drink?” 

“Anything you have,” he replied. “A beer would be perfect, but I’ll have anything else, too.”

“I should have two in the fridge.” Amy marched to the kitchen, pulled two bottles out of the fridge, then placed them on the countertop. She opened them and handed one to Daniel. “Cheers.” 

“Cheers,” the man returned and took a sip of his beer. “What a night,” he stated after a while. “Who would’ve thought it would end up like this?”

“Like this? What do you mean by that?” Amy asked, moving to the green couch that was placed in the centre of the living room, a few meters from the counter. “Want to sit down?” She sat down, and Daniel followed.

“I mean by being here with you. I’m surprised you still want to talk to me after what you saw. Any other woman would probably never want to see me again. Oh, and I was supposed to buy you a drink,” he pointed at the beer, and she smiled gently.

“Well, I think you’ve had enough for the night,” she told him. “Oh, and you can take me out any other day if you want.”

“I’d like that. I promise I’ll behave and won’t punch anyone beforehand,” he joked and she chuckled in response. “So, do you often invite other guys for a drink at your place?” 

“No, I usually don’t invite anyone here, but since I know you’re Phoebe’s brother… I could make an exception,” she winked at him. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“I was surprised to see you with someone like Trevor… I mean… You look so kind and seem… So different from him.” Amy looked at Daniel, at his tired, bloodshot eyes and a weak smile that remained on his face. “So… What are you doing with him?”

“That’s a very good question I can’t answer, because I don’t really know,” he responded then took another sip from the bottle. “Trevor and I… We were friends back in the days.”

“Friends? Oh, I didn’t see that coming.”

“Now he’s kinda helping me to get back on my feet,” Daniel added and Amy’s eyes widened in surprise, “but I guess it ain’t gonna work for long. You know, conflict of interests. He wants me to cooperate with Michael, so I could cooperate with them both at the same time, and I don’t want to cooperate with a man who hurts my sister in any way.” 

“Protective of your sister, aren’t you?” 

“Way too protective,” he admitted. “I couldn’t protect her from Michael, though. Damn, I couldn’t even protect her from myself.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Daniel sighed, gathering his thoughts and thinking whether he even wanted to start talking about such delicate matters that night. “One day... Phoebe and I had a fight and I got carried away. I wasn’t in the best place in my life and… I hurt her. It was out of my control, but I did hurt my sister. She hates me for it and she has every right for it, even though I wish… I wish she didn’t.”

“Someone once told me we hurt people we love the most because we care about them,” Amy said after a period of silence. “You… I don’t know you well, but you seem to care a lot about your sister, even if you messed up some things.”

“I do care a lot,” Dan agreed, looking down to escape Amy’s sight. “After our father passed I knew I was the one to take care of Phoebe and mom, but I failed. I know… I wish I could make things right with Phoebe. It’s too late to make things right with my mom, isn’t it?” he asked, rhetorically. “I sometimes wonder whether it’s not too late to make things right with my sister, too, and to prove to her that I’ve always cared.”

“It’s never too late to try, right?” she questioned, and a reassuring smile appeared on her face. “She might not forgive you at first, but if you try hard enough… There’s still a chance for you to fix everything.”

“You really think so?”

“Yes, Dan. I really think so,” she responded, and then, in order to change the subject or out of pure curiosity, she asked him something he did not expect to be asked about. “What was wrong with Sapphire?”

“Nothing,” he replied instinctively the first thing that came to his mind, “but she wasn’t my type. I mean—”

“I get what you mean,” Amy smiled then downed the bottle with a few sips. “I asked because I’d seen you with her earlier, and I was surprised she left so quickly.”

“I kinda brushed her off. She was nice and all, but… I wasn’t interested.” 

“Are you interested now?” She lost control for a second, and a suggestive question slipped out of her mouth. 

Dan smirked, Amy blushed, and when their eyes met she realised she should not have asked. “I’m very interested now,” he responded, carefully moving closer to her, but that was when a red light appeared in Amy’s head. 

She could not do that. 

She could not do that, not when she was fully aware it was Phoebe’s brother who was sitting by her on the couch. It was not the reason she had invited him to her apartment, too. She moved away as if she was burned, and a blush spread on her face like a wildfire. Her heart beat faster, but she knew it would be a mistake. 

“I’m gonna get you a blanket and a comfortable pillow,” she mumbled, putting away the empty bottle and getting up from the couch in a hurry. Seconds later, she disappeared into her bedroom, that was on the right from the couch, and Daniel could not be more confused. 

Did he do something wrong?

He did not want to think about it. On the contrary, he wanted to think she felt the same way he did the moment their eyes met for a while. It gave him hope someone was still capable of looking at him this way; with understanding and a feeling other than despise. It was too early to say anything else except that he liked her; he liked her the moment he spilt his drink on her and she turned it into a joke. 

Of course, if he had a chance he would kiss her. He would go even further, he would kiss her and…

“There you go.” Her voice brought him back again and she handed him the soft, grey blanket and a matching pillow. “If there’s anything you need, just ask.”

“I assume you staying on this couch with me is not an option?” he asked, not hoping for much. 

“Don’t push your luck even more tonight.” 

“I had to try,” he smiled, putting away the bottle and kicking his brown boots off his feet. He covered himself with a blanket then placed a pillow under his head as he obediently lied down, watching Amy watching him with a small smile on her face. “How can a wonderful girl like you work in such a place as Vanilla?”

“Well, you flatter me,” she responded, “but I guess this is life. Some things went wrong and I ended up dancing for strangers.”

“Do you like what you’re doing?”

“You mean dancing for strangers?”

“Yes.”

“Mostly I do,” she said after consideration. “Phoebe’s always been saying I deserve better, but I… I don’t know if I do.”

“She’s right. You deserve a lot more than that,” Daniel told her. 

“Then I guess we both deserve better,” she countered. “You definitely deserve more than being Trevor’s errand boy.”

“I’m not his errand boy,” he fired back.

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” Amy winked at him, then directed her steps towards the door of her bedroom. “Sleep well.” 

“You too,” Dan replied and watched her walk inside the other room. He got up to turn off the lights and not long after he returned to the couch, he fell asleep. He was not dreaming much, and for the first time in a long time, he rested. 

A bit.

But still, it was a nice change.


“Damn, he got me good,” Michael hissed when Trevor handed him a bottle of brandy from behind the bar. The glass was cold and it soothed the pain from the bruise under his left eye. “I have to say I didn’t see that coming.” 

“To be honest, I didn’t expect that, either,” Trevor told his friend, and shook his head slowly, “but if you left her, I understand why Daniel could get pissed.”

“I didn’t leave her. She left me, considering we’ve ever been together in the first place.”

“Why?” Trevor questioned. “What did you do to her?”

“Wait, are you siding with Daniel now?”

“I just want to know both versions of the same story,” the other man responded, leaning on the counter. “Speak up, sugar tits.” 

Michael sighed, and once he put down the brandy, he began talking: “I told her the truth… I mean, Amanda told her, so I had no other choice than telling her everything. She didn’t take it well, to say at least.” 

“Wait, Amanda told her?” Trevor scoffed. “Why? Caught you two in bed?”

“No. She came by to give me our divorce papers and saw Phoebe downstairs, in my shirt, so I guess she figured out the rest. She got mad, torn up divorce papers in front of us and pretty much hinted all these good things didn’t come from being a good man.” 

Trevor did not know what to say or he did, but telling I told you so did not seem like something a friend would say to cheer up another. “What did Phoebe say? I guess you already talked to her?”

“I did and she… She didn’t even know what to say. No one is prepared to hear something like this, right?” Michael chewed on his bottom lip and his sight wandered down. “The worst thing is that she told me she’s scared of me not because I accidentally shot her, but because she doesn’t know who I am anymore.” 

“And you let her go just like that? So typical of you, Michael! When things get hard, you let go,” Trevor said, shaking his head in disapproval.

“What else could I do? Force her to stay with me?” Michael puffed. “She wanted space and I gave her what she asked for.”

“God, you’re so convenient! Space? For real? You should’ve shown her how much she means to you if she means anything at all instead of letting her go.”

“I didn’t let her go, but I… I have to finish this divorce thing for good. No more playing Amanda’s games. No more living in the same house with her, especially when we both know it’s going nowhere,” Michael cleared his throat. “I’m currently sleeping in a hotel. Amanda is looking for a new place for herself, lawyers are taking care of all the formalities...” 

“So, it’s for real? The divorce?”

“Like hell, it is.”

“And Phoebe?”

“Do you think I would be ending my marriage if I didn’t think of her seriously?”

Trevor had looked at his friend with disbelief before he placed two glasses from the bar on the counter and poured some brandy into them. “I don’t know what I think,” he moved the glass towards Michael, “but now I get why Daniel punched you. Your intentions, even if pure, are so damn hard to believe in.”

“Now you’re doubting me, too? Great,” Michael scoffed then sipped on his drink. “Fuck, maybe you’re right. Maybe I should’ve skipped taunting Daniel, but damn, he got on my nerves…” 

“You should know when to swallow your pride and apologise, Mikey. Sometimes it’s much easier that way.” Trevor rarely said something that clever, Michael did not know how to respond. “Especially since you’re fighting with a man who’s her brother. Hated or not, he will always be her brother, but what do I know?”

Michael could not deny it, even if these words came out from the man who never swallowed his pride or apologised. However, it would be much easier if he simply admitted he had done a wrong thing and stopped acting as if he knew what he was doing.

He did not know. 

He was acting impulsively when he tried to make Amanda move out of the mansion, and in the end, he moved out himself. He was not thinking much when he wanted to stop Phoebe and crossed her safety boundaries, which made her feel even more scared of him. 

He did not know how to act or how to make things right, but if there was one thing he knew was that fighting with Phoebe’s brother would not make anything better. It could only make things worse because Trevor seemed to be right. Again. 

“What do you suggest? Should I apologise to him after he punched me in the face?” Michael asked, tapping on the glass with his fingertips. 

“No. I suggest you make peace with him. You don’t have to like him, but you won’t ever get her back if he and you will be jumping to each other’s throats every damn time,” Trevor replied and then, he laughed. “Not mentioning my plan for us to work together…”

“It ain’t gonna work, T.”

“I know! You two made it crystal clear,” Trevor told him, pouring himself another drink. “I hope you will eventually listen to me, though, because I’m tired of you whining all the time.”

“I’m not whining,” Michael replied.

“Yes, you are,” Trevor countered, and after looking at his friend for a few moments, he added: “You know what your problem is? You’re never honest with the way you feel. Never. You keep lying to yourself and to everyone around, because you’re scared… Of what exactly? It’s not bad to feel. It’s bad to keep lying about it,” he paused for a few seconds. “Does loving her scare you this much?”

Michael did not reply, but he did know the answer to that.


“It’s Murphy Carter, please leave a message.”

Beep.

“Hey, Murphy,” Phoebe said weekly, turning onto her back. It was early morning, and after another sleepless night, she was exhausted. The bright light was falling through the shutters, enlightening her cosy bedroom. “I know you weren’t expecting me to call you this early or even at all, but I want to keep my promise… I know it’s early, so you’re probably working or sleeping and have your phone muted. It’s okay. I just need to talk to someone...” 

She had bitten her bottom lip and let herself think for a few seconds before she continued:

“I hope you’re doing well. I’m not. Not really, actually. I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, and I guess... I’m tired. Are you planning on visiting LS anytime soon? You probably aren’t. It’s also okay because I think I need to get out of this city, too. Just for a while, because I’m still looking out for a new job. I know you would tell me I should go back and get my degree, work as a doctor, but I can’t. I feel this chapter of my life ended when I lost my dad. I couldn’t save someone I loved the most, so what’s the point in all that?” She stopped for a moment, realising she sounded a bit too dramatic. “Anyway, I’m also calling you, because I don’t want you to worry about me. I might be going through a rough time, but I’ll be okay. I think,” she coughed and sneezed unexpectedly, and a shiver came through her whole body, “if I get over this awful cold first.” 

She sat up and looked at the pink suitcase that was placed by the door of the bedroom. “Let me know when you’ll be in Los Santos or call me when you have some spare time. I’m going to be away for a few days, but I’ll always find some time to talk to you, even if I had problems with that when I was younger. Take care, Murphy and I hope we’ll talk or see each other soon.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Phoebe locked her phone and put it inside the pocket of her grey hoodie. She brushed back her hair, wondering what exactly she was doing. 

Tired of being in the same place all the time, she realised she needed a change. Being in a place that constantly reminded her of Michael was not doing her good; wherever she looked, she was thinking about him, thinking what he was doing and whether he was thinking of her as much as she was about him.

Tony, the photographer who had been so nice to her, called her the other day, saying there was another photo session coming and they were looking for a model, but she refused. 

“That’s a shame, Phoebe, but I get it. Just let me know if you change your mind,” he told her and she thanked him for being understanding. She was also aware that he would not have called her if it was not for Solomon and, probably, Michael. 

Everything and everyone in this place reminded her of him. Wherever she looked, whoever she called, wherever she went, her thoughts were wandering back to him.

She could use some time away. 

She needed some time away, so she packed her bag, grabbing only necessary stuff with her, and later in the morning, she left her apartment. She never thought she would be going back to the place she had left with such pain in her heart, but that was exactly what she was doing at that moment.

She was going home, but not only because she needed a change.

Apparently, to start another chapter, she had to finish the one she had left open a long time ago.

Chapter 20: Reckless Behaviour

Chapter Text

When Amy left her bedroom the next morning, Daniel was still asleep. Curled up on her couch and covered with a soft, grey blanket, he looked so peaceful. Amy could not help but stop for a moment to watch him with a gentle smile on her face. She shouldn’t have felt that way towards him, but even if she would never say that out loud, she missed being around someone. She missed waking up and seeing someone by her side or in the other room. For years, it has been just her and the walls around.

She carefully walked to the kitchen, trying her hardest to make breakfast for them without waking up Dan. Her original plan included making eggs and bacon, but after almost dropping the pan on the floor, she changed it to peanut butter jelly sandwiches. Not that she had a choice when there was nothing more in the fridge. She definitely should plan her groceries better, or at least, make them more often than once a week. 

Once she was done with preparing sandwiches, she made them both some coffee and poured it into two white mugs, then carried them to the wooden coffee table by the couch. She placed them down carefully, trying to make as little noise as possible, but Daniel was already awake. 

“When you offered me to stay the night, you didn’t say a thing about staying for breakfast,” he said, his voice raspy and still sleepy. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning,” she responded softly, now placing plates with sandwiches for them. “Think of it as... A bonus. Hope you don’t mind peanut butter jelly?”

“Mind? I love peanut butter jelly.” Daniel sat up and when Amy joined him on the couch, he reached for a sandwich. “I can’t remember the last time someone made me breakfast,” he confessed, looking at the blonde next to him.

“And I can’t remember the last time I had a chance to eat breakfast with someone,” she returned, then sent him a smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“I did. Your couch is pretty comfortable, you know? It’s a shame you didn’t try it out with me,” Daniel teased, and Amy blushed a bit, looking down at her thighs. “I’m just messing with you, okay? Don’t take my words seriously. You’re great and I can’t be more grateful you let me stay here,” he hurried with an explanation, “even if I don’t really understand why you wanted a stranger at your place.”

“I didn’t want you to be alone after what happened or did something stupid out of anger,” Amy said and her eyes returned to him. “It seemed to be the right thing to do.”

She quickly reached for a sandwich and took a bite to stop her from talking too much. Out of a sudden, she felt exposed - being around Daniel was so comfortable for her, she was afraid she would accidentally cross the boundaries she had set and say too much. From her experience, saying too much to someone she just met was never a good choice.

But it seemed to be different now.

She could not explain why; she just felt safe in his presence. Safe enough to trust him and to open in front of him, and it was terrifying for someone who always needed much time to trust. She was willing to let him in just like that. 

It could not be real. 

She was not allowed to feel this way, or at least she did not want to feel this way; vulnerable.

“Thank you for everything,” Daniel said once he finished eating his sandwich. He reached out for the mug and took a sip of black as pitch coffee while Amy watched him with her blue eyes. 

“It’s nothing,” she replied quietly. “I’m glad I could help when you needed it.”

“Your eyes are beautiful,” he pointed after a long while. “I’m aware you probably hear that a lot…”

“You know, most blondes have blue eyes, so it’s not special.” 

“I can think only about one blonde right now,” he blurted, not bothering how cliche it might have sounded. “The one who’s sitting next to me.”

“Mister charming, aren’t you?” Amy chuckled, trying to ignore this fuzzy feeling inside her chest. 

“Can’t I just compliment you? Oh, and you make the best peanut butter jelly sandwiches,” he continued, and Amy blushed. Again. Not that no one had ever complimented her before, but this time, all these compliments sounded so genuine. “Generally, everything tastes better when someone else does it for you.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” she responded. “I’m glad you like them. I’m glad you… It's silly, but I’m truly glad you’re eating them with me. Nice change to have someone to talk to in the morning or just... To drink coffee with.”

“Doesn't my sister drop by often? She’s a terrible cook,” Daniel moved closer to Amy and leaned down as if he wanted to tell her a secret. “The only thing she can cook is spaghetti. Don’t tell her I told you,” he winked at her. Amy shook her head slowly, smiling widely at him.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” 

“You could share one with me, too. I mean, a secret for a secret, or not even a secret,” Daniel chuckled, feeling he complicated what he meant too much. “Just tell me something about you.” 

“What would you like to know?”

“Are you seeing someone?” 

Amy looked at him suspiciously. “Is that really what you want to know?” Daniel nodded as confirmation. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Oh, okay,” he said, and for a few seconds, he had been staring at the sandwich Amy was holding in her hand. “Is that your hair?” 

“Where?” Amy asked, confused. She was taking a closer look at it when Dan swatted the sandwich from the other side, splashing the peanut butter jelly all over her mouth. “Dan!” she squealed and the man burst out laughing. “What the hell?!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he managed to say, choking on his laugh. “I wasn’t planning on splashing it so much. Wait, let me help.” He took a sandwich from her and put it back on the plate. Then, he returned to her and using the moment of her confusion, he gently pressed his lips against hers. 

Amy’s heart skipped a beat, and at first, she wanted to pull away, but she quickly changed her mind. She let herself enjoy this  very  sweet and gentle kiss. It was so easy to lose control because she wanted that kiss so much.

However, after a short, blissful moment, it hit her.

What she was doing was very wrong, and she should not have let that happen.

“I’m so sorry, I—we can’t do that, Dan,” she murmured when she pulled away from him as if she got burnt. 

“Why?” he asked, caught off guard.

“You’re my best friend’s brother, that’s why,” she fired back. “Would you be happy if Phoebe hooked up with your best friend without you knowing a thing?”

“If I knew she was happy and safe with him then yes, I would be happy,” he replied without hesitation. “You’re so easy to like, you know? I barely know you, but you give me... I don’t even know how to describe it. Maybe I… Ah, doesn’t matter.”

“No, tell me. It does matter,” she opposed, curious what he had wanted to say.

“I seriously can’t remember the last time someone looked at me the way you did. You weren’t judging me, blaming me, you just… Talked to me, and made me feel as if I was worth something… But maybe I was delusional. Maybe you did it all, because of Phoebe, but I...”

“No, it’s not that,” she told him. “I… I just want to be fair with your sister. I don’t want things to get awkward…”

“They won’t get awkward,” he told her. “Why would they? I mean… If you want this, why would she bother?”

“And why are you bothered when she’s with Michael?” she replied with a question but did not expect an answer. 

However, Daniel was thinking for a moment, searching for one. “I’m afraid he’s gonna keep hurting her. I know my sister, I know how fragile she is.” 

“Is that the only reason?” Amy got up and walked to the kitchen to grab a piece of paper towel from the kitchen counter. She wiped her face then handed another piece to Dan. “Anyone can hurt her, so I don’t know why you’re so hostile just towards Michael.”

“Well, I… I think I’m generally jealous of her,” he admitted, “not in a bad way, I… I remember times when I was her hero. You know, big brother, best friend and so on. We were really close and now… She can barely look at me and I have to watch her seeking support from other men while I should be the first one to protect her.”

“Dan, she’s not just seeking support or protection,” the woman said, returning to the couch and taking a seat by his side. “She’s seeking more than that, and you can’t give her this  more .” 

“I know… I know, but a part of me can’t accept it,” he sighed. “What do you think of this douche?”

“Michael? I wish I could say I like him. He’s… I wasn’t in favour of this relationship, too. I care about Phoebe, I think she's an amazing person who deserves the world. I tried to tell her he’s no good for her, but she wasn’t listening and… I know how much she likes him, and surprisingly, he seems to like her, too. I thought they were doing fine, you know? And then, I saw her all broken… I guess that’s why I was so pissed when I saw him yesterday. I don’t know what happened, Phoebe didn’t want to tell me, brushing me off every time, but I know, whatever happened, it must hurt them both… Maybe they just fought and needed to cool down? It happens in relationships.”

“But the thing is… When I saw Michael yesterday I didn’t know who I was more pissed at. Him for acting as if nothing happened or Phoebe for not telling me what happened?” she asked rhetorically. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been pissed at any of them. It’s not my business…”

“And maybe I shouldn’t have punched him,” Daniel pointed. “Ah, now that I think of it, I shouldn’t have done many things. Kissing you included.”

“Why?” She sent him a reassuring smile. “I don’t think it was a mistake, but if you think differently...”

“I don’t.”

“I just want to be honest with Phoebe and I want her to know about it. Whatever it was, is or will be, I guess I should tell her and see what she thinks of it.”

Just as she finished speaking and the silence filled up the room, she got a text message. 

“Speaking of the devil,” she stated once she pulled her phone out of the pocket of her sweat pants. Her eyes scanned the screen as she read the message out loud. “ I’m leaving the city for a few days. I’m just letting you know, so you wouldn’t worry. I’ll talk to you when I’m back.

Amy looked up at Daniel, who was still processing the message his sister had sent to her friend. After a minute or so, he asked:

“Where on Earth is she going?”


Home sweet home, Phoebe thought as she arrived in Sandy Shores and was walking inside her family house. She stepped through the threshold, pulling a suitcase behind her and thanking Daniel for not changing the locks throughout the years.

She placed her suitcase by the wall in the hall and took a few steps towards the living room. 

Nothing had changed at all. 

This house looked exactly the same as she remembered. It was a one-floor house with a garage in the back, three bedrooms, a living room connected with a kitchen and a bathroom. The decor of each room was rather modest and there was no main theme, but the sight of it reminded Phoebe of the old days when her parents were alive, she and Dan were much younger and everything was so simple. 

Phoebe stroked the material of the brown, leathered couch as she walked by it, directing her steps towards her bedroom that was in the corner, in between her parents and Daniel’s bedroom. 

She opened the doors gently, quickly realising her room had not changed a bit, too. She doubted anyone moved a thing as everything was in its place. The double bed with pink cushions was placed in front of a big closet and right next to the bed, there was a desk with a PC screen and a few medical books under it. The walls were painted beige and the final touch was grey, fluffy carpet on the light, wooden floor. If there was one thing Phoebe liked about this house, it was this wooden floor that seemed to match every furniture in it. 

Using the last of her strength, she returned for her suitcase and moved it to her bedroom. Then, she fell on the bed, tired and weak as she felt the fever rising. 

She managed to cover herself with a quilt, but it did not help much - even though her forehead was burning hot, she was trembling from a cold that spread through her whole body. 

She did not know how long she had been trembling, but when she eventually felt some warmth, her eyes closed and she fell asleep.


Hours felt like minutes, and when she woke up, she had no clue what time it was. She felt as if she was hit by a train; each muscle in her body hurt and her temples were painfully throbbing. She touched her forehead and it was not as burnt as it had been before, but she knew she could use some more painkillers. 

She got up from the bed, and making unsteady steps, she walked to the living room where all the lights were on. She did not recall turning them on, so immediately, she was alarmed.

“Phoebe.” Of course, she was not the one to turn them on. It was someone else, Daniel, to be precise. Who else could it be? “You’re literally the last person I expected to see here, but I can’t express how happy I am to see you.”

Phoebe tilted his head to the side and once she gathered some strength, she asked: “What are you doing here, Dan?”

“I’m actually living here. I came back home after mom had passed away,” the man explained, putting the glass, he was holding in his hand, down. “Someone has to look after this place, right?” 

“Yeah, right,” she agreed, feeling too weak to argue with him. “I won’t be staying long, don’t worry. I needed a change of scenery…” she coughed, covering her mouth and when she sneezed, a few drops of blood fell on her right hand. “Damn it…”

“You’re very sick,” Daniel pointed, immediately handing Phoebe a tissue. “What’s wrong Phoebe?”

“It’s just a cold.” She did not want to explain how bad she felt to him.

“Your nose is always bleeding when you’re very sick or tired. I’ve known you forever, you can’t fool me,” he returned and wanted to take a step towards her, but she backed off. “Hey, I won’t hurt you… I’m so sorry, Phoebe. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done, but I swear, I won’t do anything bad to you never again.” He raised his hands in surrender. “I know… I know I’m not the perfect brother, but who do we have if not each other? I love you, Phoebe. You’re my little sister, and…”

“Stop it, Dan.” She shook her head. “I’m not your  little  sister anymore. I stopped being your  little  sister years ago, and I don’t want to have this conversation right now… After so long… After everything that happened… I don’t think it’s the best moment for this conversation, I… Just let me stay here for a few days and then, I’ll leave.”

“You can stay here as long as you want, Phoebe,” he told her. “It’s your home.”

“I’m gonna go take some meds and go back to the bed,” Phoebe stated, pretending she did not hear what Dan had said to her. She walked by him and began searching for some painkillers on the kitchen shelf when someone knocked on the doors. “Is there anything that is not expired?” 

“I’ll go and see who’s that,” Daniel said to himself because his sister was not paying attention, anyway. 

It did not go as he planned. Truth to be told, he did not plan it at all, because he did not think Phoebe would return here, to Sandy Shores. From all the places she could pick, it was the least likely choice. 

The last twenty-four hours were hard for Daniel, starting from this unfortunate night at Vanilla and ending at meeting his sister back at their parent’s house. 

One big roller coaster.

“Hey.” He heard as he opened the doors and froze, seeing one and only Michael de Santa at his doorstep. 

“Hey?” Daniel repeated, blinking a few times to make sure he was not delusional. “What the fuck are you doing here? Want to finish what we started yesterday? Who told you… Goddamn Trevor,” he automatically responded to one of the questions he wanted to ask. 

“Bingo. You got the last one correct,” Michael replied casually. “I want to talk to you, douche, not start a fight.”

"What could you possibly want to talk about?”

Michael took a deep breath and used all his inner peace to remain calm. 

“I don’t know what Amy told you, but I truly care about your sister,” he started, feeling embarrassed he had to explain it all to Daniel. “She and I argued, yes, but it didn’t change the way I feel about her and I would never hurt or use her on purpose—What I mean is that I want the best for her, and…”

“Why wouldn’t you disappear from her life then? Don’t you think that would be the best for her?”

“Maybe, but I need to hear it from her, not you.” 

Again, Daniel found it hard to find words to reply. He eyed Michael, wondering what Phoebe saw in him that was so hard to resist. He was good looking, even with a slightly black eye, but he was not the only man who looked good in a suit. What else did he have to offer? Money? He knew Phoebe wouldn’t have fallen for that. Then what was it?

“Let me know when you’re done with checking me out,” Michael said, and Daniel quickly stopped staring. “Is that Phoebe’s phone?” he asked, noticing a phone on the sideboard by the door when the other man moved to the side. He wouldn’t have paid attention if it wasn’t for its screen and this photo, the only one Phoebe had taken of them when they were out on a walk as the wallpaper. 

Daniel looked at the phone, confused, as he had not seen it earlier. “I guess. It has to be hers, god, I wouldn’t set a photo of you two as wallpaper.” 

“Is she here?” Michael saw a spark of hope for him. The fact she had their photo as her phone wallpaper had to mean something. There was a chance it meant she did not hate him as much as he thought she would. 

“She’s here, detective, but I doubt she wants to talk to you.” Daniel stepped into Michael’s way. “You’re not going anywhere. I mean it. She’s feeling bad, okay? I don’t want her to feel worse—”

Bad ? What do you mean by  bad ?” Michael was not planning on leaving any time soon, especially when he knew Phoebe was not feeling well. 

“She's sick,” Daniel replied harshly. “High fever and generally, she’s weak, but as always, she pretends she’s fine.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed she does that.” 

Dan, she’s not just seeking support or protection. She’s seeking more than that, and you can’t give her this more.

Amy’s words rang in Daniel’s head, and at the same time, he began wondering whether it was Michael who was capable of giving his sister this mysterious  more . If he was not important to her, no matter what had happened between them, she would not have their photo set as wallpaper… Or maybe, she simply forgot to change it.  Either way, this goddamn screen could turn off already.

“I just want to talk to her,” Michael said, hoping he would convince Daniel he meant no harm. “Just talk.”

“Try your luck another time,” Daniel responded, and that was when something weird happened. With the corner of his eye, he noticed someone running towards them. This, someone, turned out to be Trevor, and it would not be a surprise, he lived nearby after all, but his concerned face could only mean trouble. “What the—”

“Both of you inside, now,” Trevor hissed, storming inside the house and pulling Michael with him. Using the confusion of both men, Trevor locked the doors then leaned against them, breathing heavily. His right forearm and hand were bleeding, but he did not seem to care about it much. “What? You two didn’t want to help, so I had to take care of things on my own. I admit I got a little bit carried away…”

“A little bit?” Michael spoke up first, clearly disturbed. “You’re bleeding! For god’s sake, Trevor! What did you do?”

“The less you know the better you sleep. The only thing you two might need to know is that we might need to stay here for a few days, just to let things calm down. Three or four days, not too long.”

“And what do we have to do with your business?” Daniel asked, feeling it was his turn to speak. “You have a problem, you’re being chased, not us.”

“You’re right,” Trevor nodded, “but unfortunately, you two are being associated with me and I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Well, us three, at least.” 

Michael and Daniel looked at each other as they thought about the same thing, at the same time. They were not just in two, but Trevor did not know that. He did not know he was risking the lives of not two, but three people and one of them was completely innocent. 

“Don’t make such concerned faces, we’re gonna be fine,” Trevor continued, seeing both of their faces getting pale. “We just gotta lay low for a while and…”

“The problem is we’re not here just in three! Phoebe’s here, too, but you don't care, right?” Michael hissed, could not hide his anger anymore. “You are an idiot, Trevor! A reckless idiot!"

Daniel was surprised to see Michael react this way. He did not expect him to react at all, not mentioning bringing Phoebe up. For his whole life he had been thinking, he was the only one who put his sister before him, but at that particular moment, he realised he could have been wrong. 

And that was also the moment when he looked at Michael from a completely different perspective; the one he had thought he would never look at him from.

Chapter 21: Plain Sight

Chapter Text

“How could I possibly know Phoebe would be here?” Trevor asked then fell on the kitchen chair, not giving a damn about the fact his arm and hand were continuously bleeding on the wooden floor. Neither Daniel nor Michael seemed to care about it, consumed by anger and frustration caused by the fact that they had been put in such an uncomfortable situation. 

“How the fuck could I know that, Michael?” The question was repeated, but the other man did not reply. He was barely holding himself back from punching his friend right in the face for being this reckless, and also because it was not the first time he did something utterly stupid.

“We both told you we didn’t want to cooperate the other night,” Daniel spoke up, taking a seat on the other side of the table. “What part didn't you understand?”

“You didn’t want to cooperate, alright, but—”

“But you didn’t have to make a hideout out of my place! You marched in here as if you owned this place and didn’t give a damn what I think about your  splendid  idea!” Daniel snapped at Trevor, carried away by his emotions. 

“You’re making a bigger deal out of it than it really is,  swollen balls . I thought a night with this cute blonde would loosen you a bit, but no, you’re still stiff as fuck,” Trevor bit back without losing his temper. “Listen, we just gotta lay low for a moment and no one’s gonna get hurt. There’s no need for any of you to panic.”

“God, Trevor! Only you’re capable of doing something like this,” Dan shook his head in disapproval. “By the way, mind explaining what happened to your arm and hand?” He pointed at Trevor’s limb. 

“And what do you think happened?” Trevor was not in the mood to explain himself to Daniel. “A few small cuts, that’s it.”

“Small?” Michael puffed, taking a few steps towards his friend to take a closer look at his wounds. “I’m not a doctor, but this cut on your hand seems to be pretty deep.”

“I’ll live,” he cut Michael off, “but if you’re so worried, you can go and get Phoebe to help me. I’m pretty sure she can handle it.”

“Don’t bring her into this mess,” Daniel opposed immediately.

“No offence, but don’t you think it’s a little late for that?” Trevor asked, and both of the men knew he was right. “Come on, Dan! Do you want me to bleed out on your floor?”

“I honestly couldn’t care less,” Michael murmured, but Trevor ignored his remark. 

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Mike,” he said instead, then turned back to Daniel. “So? Do you really think your sister wouldn’t help me?”

“Maybe she would, but not right now,” the younger man replied after a moment. “I’ll get you some bandages myself and let’s hope you make it to the morning.”

Trevor rolled up his eyes but did not say a word in response. For a second, Michael was walking around the room till he eventually sat down on one of the four chairs around the table and watched Dan going through some medical equipment stuffed in one of the kitchen cabinets. 

“Here,” Dan said, putting a few bandages and hydrogen peroxide on the kitchen table. “Do you need a hand or…” He wanted to help Trevor, but the man was already pouring hydrogen peroxide on his cut. Dan quickly turned his head away because watching the wound foam on its surface looked painful, but Trevor did not feel the pain.

A minute or two later, he was finishing wrapping a bandage around his hand, and with the other one, he cleaned the blood out of his arm. “Thanks,” he murmured once he was almost done, “but I got this under control.”

“Yeah, Daniel! Don’t you know Trevor has everything under fucking control?” Michael asked ironically, taking off his graphite jacket and hanging it on the back of the chair. Dan noticed the gun tucked in his trousers but decided not to make a comment on it. He watched Michael reaching out to the buttons of his shirt and unbuttoning the first two of them, so he had more space under his neck. 

For a while, none of them was saying a word, so Michael used this moment of silence to sit down and to gather his thoughts. It was not the first time he had to lay low with Trevor, but this time, it was completely different. The last few times, there was no one else besides them, and now, there was someone he cared about deeply. 

He felt his throat running dry, so he grunted, bringing the attention of the others to him. 

“Want something to drink?” Daniel asked out of sudden, opening the fridge and waiting for an answer. “Like a beer?”

“Don’t you have something stronger?”

“Unfortunately not,” the man replied, disappointed, then pulled three bottles out of the fridge and once he opened them, he handed them to the others. “So, what’s the plan?” 

“A plan?” Michael sounded surprised. “What’s that?” He glared at his friend who rolled up his eyes in response. “I’m not sure he knows what that means.”

“We make sure all the doors are locked, windows are shut and shaded, and we… Wait,” Trevor said in a matter of a fact tone, not letting Michael’s words provoke him. “Everything should be fine, but let’s keep our eyes open, just in case,” he added then sipped a cold beer. “Stop giving me this pissed look, Mikey. You, among us three, have the best situation here, with your girlfriend sleeping behind the nearest wall.” He sent him a wink.

“You know, I would be way calmer if she wasn’t here. Screw me or Daniel, but her life shouldn’t be put at risk, especially not because you’re a reckless egoist!”

“I’m an egoist?” Trevor puffed and his face immediately turned from neutral to angry. “Look at yourself—”

“Don’t you both think it’s not the best moment to start a fight?” Daniel asked, loud and clear, so the others heard him well. He put his beer down on the table and looked at Michael, then at Trevor, thinking how on earth did he get into this mess. Yet, if there was one thing he knew, the last thing they should do at that moment was to jump to each other's throats. 

He rubbed his face, trying to focus and come up with any sensible solution. “We have to wait it out. What else can we do? I don’t like it either, Michael, but I honestly can’t see any other way than this one without putting us all at bigger risk.”

Michael sighed, then cursed under his breath, but in the end, he realised the younger man was right. Even if he was capable of risking his life, there was no chance he would risk Phoebe’s. Not again. 

“You’re right,” he eventually said to Daniel. “I don’t like this at all, but you’re right,” he added then downed his beer.

“We have it established then,” Trevor stated, moving from the chair onto the couch. “I don’t know about you two, but I think I’m gonna lay down,” he added, reaching out for the remote and turning on the TV. “Hope you two don’t mind?” He asked for courtesy, but he did not really care what the others thought about it.

“Sure, lay down while I’m gonna wipe your goddamn blood out of the floor,” Daniel murmured, and once he stood up, he directed his steps to the kitchen to grab a mop. 

Michael did not announce his plans out loud and for a few minutes, he kept sitting on the chair, trying to distance himself from this whole thing. He had to remain calm because arguing with the people he was stuck with was definitely a bad idea. There was nothing else he could do other than what Trevor had told them. He had to do this, so things would not get worse than they already were.

“How bad is Phoebe feeling?” he asked Daniel once the man returned to the table.

“I honestly don’t know,” Daniel replied, reaching for his beer. “She barely spoke to me, grabbed some meds and went back to her bedroom.”

“That’s not good.”

“Are any of you planning on going to check on her?” Trevor asked from the couch. “I don’t know, get her some tea or ask if she needs anything? Michael, do you volunteer or should I go?”

“No,” Michael and Daniel said simultaneously. 

“I’ll go,” Michael added after a second, “if that’s okay with you, Dan.” 

“Not really, but I already figured you’re stubborn and do whatever you want,” Daniel told him, walking to the kitchen and turning on the electric kettle. “Besides, you’re so desperate to talk to her, you could as well make sure she drinks something warm. She won’t listen to me, that’s for sure.” 

Michael nodded and patiently waited for the tea to be prepared. “Thanks,” he said once Daniel handed him the white mug. “I’ll make sure she drinks it.”

“Can you not close the doors?” Daniel asked, and Michael felt as if he was seventeen years old again. He blinked a few times, processing what he had just heard and wondered whether he had not misheard something by accident. 

“Are you kidding me?” 

“Keep ‘em open, Mikey! Daniel loves to watch,” Trevor mocked then let out a deep laugh.

“Oh, fuck off, Trevor,” Dan barked at him. “The doors—”

“I’m gonna close them right behind my back, yes,” Michael interjected, patting Dan’s left arm. “Sorry, but it’s not negotiable.”

Daniel was hesitant for a while, but when he realised he would not win this fight, he let go. He pointed the direction to his sister’s bedroom with his head and Michael walked past him, disappearing inside a few moments later. 

He quietly closed the doors and saw her lying on the bed in the dim light of her bedside lamp. For a moment he heard Daniel and Trevor talking about something, but their words were blurred and he did not even pay attention to them anymore. Instead, he looked around the room and dared to take a few steps towards the bed, trying not to make much sound. 

“Go away, Dan,” Phoebe whined quietly, having no idea there were more people in her house than just her brother while Michael shuddered, not expecting her to be awake. 

“It’s Michael,” he said in a hushed voice, placing a mug on the nightstand. “Do you want me to go away, too?” 

Phoebe turned towards him abruptly, thinking it all was a dream, but it was not. She saw Michael standing next to her, so it could not be a dream. It could not be a dream, but it did not seem real, either. 

“H—how?” she asked, her voice weak and tired. “Is this even real? Are you really here? I don’t want you to get infected…”

“I’m here,” Michael confirmed, daring to sit at the edge of her bed, “and I don’t give a damn if I get infected.” 

“Maybe you should give a damn,” she coughed, “because what I have is one nasty cold.” 

“I’ve been through worse,” he countered. 

Phoebe had been carefully looking at Michael, and after a while, she asked: “What happened to your eye?”

“Your brother and I had a misunderstanding,” he explained briefly, skipping the details. “I came to talk to him, but I didn’t know you were home.”

“Talk?” Phoebe pondered, not expecting such an answer, but she also did not dwell on it. “That’s unexpected.”

“And Trevor’s here, too,” Michael dropped another surprise at her, but again, she showed no special reaction. 

“I’m not sure whether I want to know why he’s here,” she sighed, turning onto her back, “but I’m pretty sure whatever the reason is, it’s fucked up.” 

“It is,” he agreed then felt his heart sting. 

Phoebe was talking to him, but he knew it would not last long if he did not take any action and would not tell her what he had wanted to say for the past weeks. It could have been the only opportunity to tell her, so he could not let it slip.

“I’m so sorry for everything, Phoebe,” he started, realising he had to do it now or never. “I thought… Actually, I don’t know what I thought. I just… I wish I could turn back time, fix everything...”

“But you can’t turn back time, Michael,” she responded, looking at him with her glistening eyes. “You know what’s the worst? I’m not even angry at you for not wanting to tell me about your past and all, because… That was a lot. I’m disappointed. I’m so goddamn disappointed because it seems to be so easy for you to lie to me. It seems to be so fucking easy for anyone to hurt me and then to expect me to be fine with that...” She coughed as speaking so much was harder for her than she had thought it would be. 

She sat up and reached for the tea, which she eventually drank, but it was visible it cost her much strength. It was tearing him up to see her this weak and angry, and the worst thing was that he knew he was the one responsible for everything bad that had happened between them.

She was not guilty of a thing; she was just at the wrong place and at the wrong time. 

Maybe if she did not meet him, her life would go a different way, or at least, it would spare her some unnecessary pain and disappointment. That was what he always caused, and when he realised it, he felt horrible. He immediately reminded himself of Amanda’s words, the ones she told him when they were arguing by the pool.

Everywhere you go, the chaos follows and it drags others in.

He was not pleased about it, but this woman knew him better than anyone else. She knew every detail, everything he did, and still, she spent over twenty years by his side. But she did not love him, not for long, that was certain. It was also the reason Michael began to wonder whether anyone could love him for real and stay, not because it was convenient.

He was tired of convenience. After years of staying in a marriage that was a marriage in name only, because love ran out dry as fast as it appeared, he craved for something pure and real, something that was not forced or obliged. If it was not for his kids, he was almost certain he would not have married Amanda.

Maybe marrying her just because of that was a huge mistake that made him forget how to love and how it felt to be loved.

The other thing was, he had a tendency to bring chaos into his life because it gave him purpose. However, there was a chance that after all those years, he needed something else, or maybe, someone. Someone who would wake up by his side every morning and fall asleep with him every night. Someone with whom he could share his interests; someone who would care for him as much as he would care for this person.

Someone who would want only him, not someone else.

He was getting old, or maybe, that was everything he had ever wanted, but never dared to dream about it.

“I don’t want your apologies, Michael. I want to believe you didn’t want to hurt me, but it still hurts and I just can’t wrap my head around the fact you were lying to me on purpose,” she said quietly, then noticed Michael was not listening to her, holding back the tears that had just come to his eyes. “I… I think we both don’t need this conversation right now.”

“Yeah, you need to rest,” he returned, acting as if nothing happened. “We can talk later, right? I’m not going anywhere, so… If you need anything, I’m here.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine,” Phoebe told him, but the blank look on his face was something she had never seen before. She had never witnessed Michael being speechless, but she had no energy to find out what was wrong, so she was not opposing when he hurried out of her bedroom.

It definitely was not her greatest day, both physically and mentally.

Daniel and Trevor also noticed something was wrong because they did not dare to ask Michael any question after he had left Phoebe’s bedroom. Instead, they kept watching some stupid tv show, pretending the did not see or hear him shutting the door of the bathroom.

Without even turning the lights on, Michael leaned against the sink. He raised his sight and stared into his reflection for a while, feeling nothing but disgust. He tried to shut down this feeling and all those racing thoughts in his mind, but it did not work.

He wanted to scream, but all that left his mouth was a short, miserable groan, followed by a few bitter tears that fell onto the sink.


The night had been horrible, but the morning was not much better.

Exhausted by the fever, Phoebe had almost no energy when she got up from her bed and directed her unsteady steps outside her bedroom. Michael had mentioned Trevor being in her house, but she still was confused when she saw him napping on the couch in the living room. When he heard her steps, he immediately opened up his eyes and looked around the room anxiously. 

“Relax, it’s just me,” Phoebe murmured, walking past him, paying almost no attention to the fact he was in her house. Instead, she walked to the kitchen and turned on the electric kettle. She did not have any other drink than the tea Michael had brought her last night, so these few seconds that she had to wait for the water to boil seemed like an eternity. 

“Morning, Phoebe,” Trevor said sleepily as he joined her in the kitchen. “I don’t know whether this morning’s  good , though,   considering Michael left your bedroom as soon as he walked in,” he stated, but seeing Phoebe’s facial expression, that clearly showed annoyance, he knew he was stepping on thin ice. 

“What are you doing here, Trevor?” she asked, ignoring what she had just heard and deciding to complete the information she did not obtain from Michael. 

“Didn’t Michael tell you?” 

“He told me you’re here, but didn’t tell me the reason why,” Phoebe replied then gave Trevor a significant look. The electric kettle turned off automatically, and she poured some water into the cup, in which she already put a teabag. “No offence, but your presence here is really disturbing.”

“I needed a place to lay low for a few days and since your brother and I work together again, I figured he would not mind if I dropped by,” he explained. “What I didn’t know was that he has a visitor.”

“If I’m honest, I don’t think this information would change anything, but okay,” she shrugged, feeling too weak to argue. “Also, I’m not a visitor. It’s Daniel’s house but it’s also mine, so get lost.”

“Hey, no need to be this pissed, Phoebe,” Trevor countered. “I’m aware this isn’t the most comfortable situation, but trust me, we’ll manage.”

“We’ll manage?” Phoebe repeated in disbelief, and Trevor’s words seemed to be a trigger that released all the emotions she was bottling up inside the whole night. “Trevor, I’m not as pissed as I’m sick! I feel like garbage and three adult men who happen to act like children march into my house and pretend it’s okay to make a hideout out of this place! For fuck’s sake, I--” She did not manage to finish as she gesticulated with her hand too rapidly and threw the cup from the counter. The glass shattered on the floor, and the hot tea spilt all over the place, both of her calves included. “Goddamn it!” she hissed while her hands immediately reached the top of her black leggings, but stopped once she realised Trevor was still watching her. 

He instinctively turned around, but let out a chuckle once he did so. “You know I’ve seen women in underwear before, right? You need a hand or--”

“No, I got this,” she told him, sliding the leggings off with one move. The skin on her calves already got red and it stung painfully, but there were no blisters on it yet. She cursed once again when the doors of one of the bedrooms opened and Daniel stepped out of it, alarmed by the sound of shattering glass. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, and in a flash, he was standing next to them both while Phoebe crouched and started collecting the bigger pieces of the glass as if she forgot her she had just gotten her calves burnt. 

“Accident at work,” Trevor said, still standing with his back turned to Phoebe and Daniel. “Are you alright,  princess ? When I offered you a hand I meant cleaning up this mess, not taking your pants off.”

“I said I got this!” she snapped, but then, a muffled cry escaped her mouth. 

The truth was she did not have it under her control at all. She was so tired, so angry and so pissed at the same time, she almost forgot about the pain in her muscles and on the skin on her legs. She felt so powerless and frustrated because everything was going wrong and so out of her control.

“Leave it, Phoebe. Let me help,” Daniel stated and crouched by her side, helping her to pick up all the pieces. In the meantime, he peeked at her calves that did not look good at all. “Lay on the couch, okay? I’ll bring you some frozen beans to put on it in a sec,” he told her, and when he looked at him angrily, he added: “It’s for your good… You know I’m right.”

She nodded reluctantly and tried to get up, but out of a sudden, all she could feel was her burning calves. The grimace appeared on her face after she had taken a few steps towards the couch and someone grabbed her under the waist. In all that mess, she did not notice that Michael had joined them, so she was surprised when she felt his hands on her. 

“Don’t touch me!” She brushed his hand off her ribs and somehow managed to get to the couch on her own, but this whole show did not go unnoticed by the other two men. 

“I wanted to help, Phoebe,” Michael hurried with an excuse, but took a step back, just in case.

“Yeah, you always want to help, don’t you? You, a knight in a goddamn shining armour, are always ready to help!” With a corner of her eye, Phoebe saw a confused face of her brother and Trevor, who was peeking at them with one of his brows raised questioningly. “What are you two looking at?” she snapped at them. “Get out of my house, now! All of you, because I swear, I’m gonna go crazy if you all stay around me!”

“And you,” she turned back to Michael, “you have such a nerve! I can understand why these two morons are here, but you? What could you possibly want from Daniel?! What could you possibly want from me at this point?!”

“Phoebe, stop—” Daniel wanted to intervene, but Phoebe was not done yet.

“Why? Why should I stop?” she scoffed. “You all think you can do everything you want! You, Michael, thought you could lie to me without any consequences! Do you have the slightest idea how it feels to live in a lie? To think you’re important to someone, but the truth is far from it? I’m hurt, Michael and some things can’t be fixed by saying that you’re  sorry !”

There was a moment of silence when no one knew what to say, so they were looking at each other, and Phoebe could swear it could not get much worse. 

“I wish we could leave, Phoebe, but it’s not possible at the moment, so lay down and try to calm down,” Daniel said, then approached her and handed her the frozen beans. “We have to stay here—”

“Why is it not possible?” she asked, putting the beans on her calves and feeling a bit of ease. “Oh, God…”

“Because we don’t want to risk getting into even bigger trouble. The people Trevor messed up with can still be watching the area,” Michael responded, folding his arms, and that was the first time, he looked at Phoebe with regret in his eyes. “You may call me a knight in shining armour, you may not believe me, but I’m here because I care about you!”

Phoebe knew she was crossing the line and might have already spoken a word too many, but she was so frustrated, she was not minding her words. 

“If you cared about me, you wouldn’t have lied to me!” 

“I lied to you, yes, but you have no idea how much I regret that and how much I care!”

“Okay, enough of that,  lovebirds ,” Trevor interfered, irritated by the behaviour of them. “You both need a moment, so take a deep breath and try not to say something for a minute. My ears hurt from your yelling, and we all know that whatever you two are doing, it’s going nowhere!” He slammed the countertop with his fist. “The facts are we can’t go out and for now, we’re stuck in this house together. It would be great if we all stopped yelling at each other because it won’t change a damn thing! You two start talking and make a compromise or stop talking to each other at all because it’s not possible to be in the same room where you are!”

After these words, Trevor marched out of the kitchen and from the sound of his footsteps, Phoebe could tell he went to the garage. A moment later, Michael left, joining his friend and slamming the doors behind his back, so it was clear he was pissed about how it all turned out.

Phoebe kept looking at Daniel for a while, and he kept looking back at her, realising the upcoming days would be harder than he had thought. 

“Goddamn it,” Phoebe murmured, then let her head fall on the pillow.

“It’s gonna be fine,” Daniel told her, but he did not sound as if he was convinced. “Just keep the beans on your calves for some more time.”

“You know it’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but I don’t know what I could say to make you feel better. It was intense and I don’t even know what it was about exactly.”

“Then why did you try to stop me?”

He took a moment to think of an answer, and then realised he had no particular reason. 

“I didn’t want you to say too much,” he responded after a while, “because sometimes saying too much is worse than not saying anything at all, especially when you’re angry at someone.”

“I’m glad you know that I’m still angry at you,” she stated.  

“Oh, I know,” Daniel chuckled, leaning his against the back of the couch, “but you’re still talking to me, after everything we’ve been through.”

“I’m talking to Michael, too,” Phoebe marked.

“Come on, you’re not angry at him,” he pointed, and that was something that caught his sister off guard. “I mean, if you were really angry at him, you wouldn’t keep your photo with him as your wallpaper. You wouldn’t be wearing this beautiful necklace that - I ain’t gonna lie - you would never afford, on your neck. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, Phoebe, but pushing him away is not a solution. I know you’re hurt and honestly, this fact was enough for me to punch Michael. I don’t like him,” he sighed, “but you, for some unknown reasons, seem to like him a lot. By the way, I didn’t like any guy you ever dated, so don’t think he’s special.”

“I don’t think so,” she returned, “but I wonder since when you’re an expert in recognising how I feel about other people?”

“I’m not an expert, but I know you,” Daniel looked up then hummed. “Also, there’s something in the way you look at him that makes it so easy to notice.”

“Is that so? Tell me, what does this look on my face mean now?” 

“Even without looking I would know you want me to shut up,” he stated, “so I’m gonna stop telling you things you clearly don’t want to hear, but in return, you have to listen to what your older brother says and rest.”

“Daniel, I got this—”

“We all know you do, but sometimes you need to let someone else take care of you,” Daniel smiled gently, not hoping she would return it, but she did. 

She not only smiled but also listened to him. 

Not because she suddenly changed her attitude towards him. She smiled because she had heard these words years ago from their father. The fact Daniel remembered them touched her deeply, maybe deeper than they should have, but she did not show it. 

Out of a sudden, she did not want to prove her point anymore. She tucked herself on the couch, and even let Daniel cover her with a blanket. Then, he replaced the frozen beans on her calves with something as cold, but she did not remember that well.

She let him stand up to the challenge to be this  big brother  again, and this time, for once, she did not question it. 

Chapter 22: To Risk It All

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Daaaaan!” A little girl cried out, trying to get up from the ground. Her knees were scraped and trickles of blood were running down her skinny calves as she raised her tiny hand to wipe the tears out of her dirty cheeks. 

A few seconds later, her brother got to her and with great care helped her up. “What happened? Are you alright?” he questioned, trying to get an answer from her. “Phoebe, say something!”

She looked at the boy with her glistening, dark eyes then down at her knees, at her ripped pink tights and dirty from the ground dress, and her sobs got even louder. 

“You tripped?” Daniel made a guess, and she nodded as confirmation. “Don’t cry, it’s okay,” he tried to comfort her. “Come here.” 

The boy lifted her from the ground with almost no effort as if she was as light as a feather. She wrapped her legs around him and rested her head against his right shoulder, letting him carry her inside the house in front which she was playing. 

The boy walked to the bathroom, sat his sister down on the edge of the bath and ordered her to wait for him. She obeyed, watching her big brother look for something inside the bathroom’s cabinet. “Remember the time I skinned my knee? Dad told me to gently wash my knees and wrap them with a bandage.” 

“I remember, but… Can’t we wait for dad to return? Or m-mom?” she asked and her voice trembled as she noticed Daniel had pulled out scissors along with some bandages.

“You sure you want them to worry? We got this, Phoebe,” he told her, his voice as firm as it could be for a thirteen-year-old boy. “Um, so first, I’ll cut your tights right above your knees—”

“Nooo!!!” she cried and tears streamed down her face again. “These are my favourite—” She wanted to protest, but at the same time Daniel made the first cut above her right knee. “Nooo!!!!”

“Phoebe! Calm down! We have to clean your knees and you have plenty of other pink tights!”

“But these… These were my favourite…” she sobbed quietly as Daniel finished cutting off the material on her left knee. “Ouch, Dan!” 

“I’m sorry, but I promise it won’t hurt long,” he told her, removing small pieces of fabric from her knees. “See? We’re almost done. Now we have to clean them with water and then, I’ll wrap some bandages around your knees.”

He did as he had said, and a few minutes later, Phoebe was sitting on the edge of the bath with her knees wrapped in bandages and a light smile on her face. “Piggyback ride to the living room?” Daniel offered once he cleaned up the mess they both made. The girl nodded willingly, then climbed onto his back. “Hold tightly.”

He carried her out of the bathroom and a few steps later, he put her down on the couch. “You were very brave,” he told her when he crouched beside her and tapped the tip of her nose with his pointing finger. 

“But I cried,” she responded, rubbing her left eye with a fist.

“Well, I’m sure this fall hurt,” Daniel returned, “and it’s okay to cry sometimes. Especially when you get hurt.”

“Okay,” Phoebe smiled widely at her brother. "Thanks, Dan."

“It’s nothing,” he stated, taking a seat next to her and reaching for a remote to play some cartoons on the TV. “You’re my little sister, Pheebs, and I’ll always look out for you--"

“I’m not little!” she protested immediately, offended by her brother’s words. “You know I hate when you call me little!” The smile disappeared from her face in a second and got replaced by a grimace. "You're so annoying!"

“Oh, I know,” Dan chuckled, "but isn't that what brothers are made for?"


When Daniel was sure his sister was asleep, he carefully wrapped two bandages around her calves to protect the burns she had on them from irritation that could be possibly caused by other materials they were brushing against. He brushed the strand of dark brown hair out of her face, and having nothing better to do, he grabbed two of the photo albums from the wooden TV stand. A moment later, he joined two other men in the garage, but the atmosphere was so tense, he did not even try to talk to any of them. 

He just sat down on the bench he used to work out on and began viewing the albums. He did not even know why he had decided to go through the old photos of him, Phoebe and their parents, but with each photo, he felt his stomach clenching and heart stinging more and more. That was also when he realised these times would never come back. The old, good times he did not appreciate enough back then, and out of sudden, he felt truly nostalgic.

He kept turning pages of the albums and found a photo of Phoebe in her favourite pink tights, light grey dress and two adorable ponytails. She was grinning widely at the camera, completely ignoring the fact she did not have two front teeth. On the second one, she was posing with their dad, and on the third one, she was reading some medical books in her bedroom. There was even one with him and Phoebe lying on the couch in matching PJs. 

Daniel bit his bottom lip hard when he found one of the few photos with the four of them, being a one, happy family. A family that was ruined, it seemed, in a flash. 

“What are you looking at?” Trevor asked out of sudden once he got tired of lying on the other bench and staring at the ceiling. His voice also dragged Michael out of thought as the man also turned his head towards Daniel.

“Just going through some old photos,” Daniel replied. “It feels nice to recall all these moments from years ago. Look at this,” he turned the album around and showed them the photo of smiling, little Phoebe, the one with remarkable pink tights.

Michael smiled uncontrollably and even took a few steps forward to take a closer look at the photo. “Years passed, but her smile hasn’t changed.”

“Well, I think it has. She’s got all her teeth now,” Trevor marked, turning a few pages in a photo album. “Oh man, I don’t know if you noticed, but every second photo in this album is with Phoebe in it.”

“Yeah, she definitely was his favourite kid, so he used every opportunity to take pictures of her,” Daniel stated, peeking at the photos Trevor and Michael were currently looking at. “Actually, I sometimes think he wanted a daughter more than he’d ever wanted a son.”

“It doesn’t necessarily have to mean that,” Michael returned. “It’s just different with a daughter.” 

“How can you know that?”

“Hmm, let me think…” Michael hummed, pretending he was lost in thought. “I have a son and a daughter, so I might know something about being a parent.”

“Yeah, Michael is a real  daddy , Dan,” Trevor winked at Michael, who showed him a middle finger in response.

Daniel, on the other hand, pretended he had not heard a thing that came out of Trevor’s mouth. “I had no idea,” he turned to Michael. 

“It’s fine. I don’t usually brag about it.” 

“So, how is it different from having a son?” Daniel asked after a while, guided by pure curiosity. 

Michael never wondered how it was different, so he did not reply at first, this time really pondering about the answer.

“I guess having a daughter is harder for a father in many ways than having a son,” he stated after a minute of consideration. “She’s the girl you love the most because she’s  literally  yours. She sits on your lap, gives you the sweetest kisses ever, wants to hug you all the time, tells you she loves you and you know she means it because when she’s little she can’t lie. Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever loved any girl as much as I love my daughter, but it also seems like a completely different kind of love.” He let himself make a small digression. “As your daughter grows up, you have to start watching the whole neighbourhood, protecting her from every dick with wrong intentions, which is practically every guy that comes near her. On the other hand, you also know you can’t fully protect her. What’s the worst, one day she will probably fall in love with another man and he’ll be the one to take your duty. That’s why you have to cherish every moment with her while you can because you know that one day, she won’t be yours anymore.” 

“How so? She will always be your daughter…”

“You know, I thought the same as you when I wasn’t a father myself, but it turned out not to be that simple. At some point, you have to step back and let her make her own choices, even if these choices don’t include you anymore. It doesn’t mean you stop caring, though, because it never ends,” Michael smiled gently. “When my son was born, I knew he would manage. He was a man,  my  son… I wanted to protect him, of course, but I knew he did not need as much protection as my daughter. Besides, the relationship he and I had is different. I would never talk about some things to Tracey, but I wouldn’t mind talking about them to Jim.” 

“Like how to  bang  girls?” Trevor teased, interrupting Michael’s monologue. 

“I like to think he doesn’t need this kind of conversation,” Michael tried to cut off the topic, but his friend decided to go on. 

“Good for him,” he stated, “but I know someone who could use tutoring on this matter.” 

“Get off me, Trevor.” Daniel quickly realised the other man was referring to him. “I know you probably don’t know, but sex is not everything when it comes to male-female relationships.”

“Maybe, but show me a woman who doesn’t like good sex,” Trevor returned. “Did you even kiss her? Or were you two sitting in her apartment, barely holding hands?”

“It’s not your business what we were doing,” Dan bit back. 

“Give him a break, T,” Michael intervened, folding his arms. “You’ve crossed the line of being a decent person a long time ago, but sometimes you can outdo yourself in being a massive dick.” 

“Wow. I don’t recall any woman calling me massive  before, so I’m flattered you think so, Mikey,”’ Trevor returned, and Michael rolled his eyes. “What?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

An awkward silence followed their discussion, and it made Trevor leave after a while as he could not stand it. “Well, you two feel free to continue this sloppy conversation while I have to take a piss.”

“Have fun,” Michael told him while Daniel continued going through the photos in the second album. He was almost in the middle when Michael sat beside him and offered him a cigarette. 

“Thanks, but I’m good,” he told him. “Why did you stand up for me?” he asked just as Michael put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it.  

“I got tired of him mocking you whenever he could,” Michael responded after taking a drag. “He’s a dick and gets on my nerves a lot.” 

“Still, he seems to be a good friend of yours,” Daniel marked. 

“Well, we have a history together. It’s hard to forget about that,” Michael explained. “What’s more interesting is what you’re doing with him, because I thought he had enough errand boys to run.” 

“I’m not—Well, maybe I’m his errand boy now, but it hasn’t always been like this. Back in the days, we were good buddies,” Dan confessed. “Then the problems began and… Here we are.”

“Could’ve been worse. He could’ve, like, shot you without even blinking. Yet, you’re still here, talking to me, so I guess you’re not Trevor’s enemy.” 

“I ain’t his ally, either… I guess all that’s between us is work now. I have to earn and give him back the money I owe him. I’m so done with this shit already, but I have to keep my promise.” 

“How much do you owe him?” Michael asked unexpectedly, staring at the smoke that was coming from a cigarette. 

“A lot.”

“How much, exactly?”

“This much that I’ll probably have to hang out with Trevor for some more time,” Daniel specified, closing the photo album rapidly. “Why do you even care?”

“I don’t. I was just curious,” Michael tried to sound neutral. “You know, I like your sister. I like her a lot and she seems to still care about your stupid ass, so I figured—”

“Figured what? That you can somehow make me change the way I see you by giving me some money? Fuck you and your money, Michael. Some things can’t be bought,” Daniel huffed and shook his head contemptuously. 

“I figured I might help you somehow. I know I ain't a saint. Never been one, but it doesn’t mean I can’t have good intentions,” Michael explained, carefully watching Daniel’s face slowly changing back to neutral. “It might not look like it, but I swear I mean no harm to Phoebe. What happened between us is just… Complicated.”

“Yeah, sure.” Daniel sighed, gathering his thoughts. “Let me ask you something, okay?"

Michael nodded.

"Would you let your daughter be with someone like you?”

“Are you for real, Daniel?” he scoffed. “It’s something completely different… ”

“No, it’s not,” Daniel opposed, then got up from the bench. “Can’t you see what you’re doing to Phoebe? You’re hurting her and that’s something I won’t accept. When our father died… I knew he wanted me to take care of her, you know? He was trusting I would take good care of her, but I failed… I'm not planning on letting her get hurt ever again.”

“You’re not her father. Besides, I’m pretty sure even your father wasn’t able to protect her from everything and everyone bad in this world even if he tried to,” Michael said, looking up at Daniel. “The other thing is that she can take care of herself. She’s not a little girl from the photos anymore.”

“You don’t know her as I do,” Daniel returned, annoyed. “The fact you slept with her doesn’t mean you know her or have the slightest idea about what she needs.”

“I don’t recall mentioning that I slept with your sister.”

“You just did.”

Smiling sardonically, Michael noticed there was almost nothing left of the cigarette, so he threw it on the ground and smashed it with his shoe. “Impressive skills, detective,” he murmured just when a weak Phoebe's voice reached their ears and alarmed them both, so Daniel did not have an opportunity to reply to that.

“D-Dan?” she called and Daniel hurried out of the garage in a blink of an eye.

A few seconds later, he was in the living room, crouching by the couch as Phoebe could not stop coughing. It was an awful, deep cough, and when he touched her forehead, he realised it was burnt. “Don’t you… Don’t you have any painkillers, do you?” she asked once the cough stopped, but from the look on his face, she immediately knew the answer. “Damn… Can you… Can you get me some? I don’t feel good…”

“I don't know Phoebe,” he told her, caressing her head gently. “Just... Just try to rest while I’ll figure something out, okay?” 

"Okay," she replied feebly, closing her eyes and trying to do what he had told her.

Daniel sighed once he realised how powerless he was at that moment. He stood up and returned to the garage, where Trevor had managed to come back to while he was talking to Phoebe.

“What’s wrong?” Michael asked first, noticing Daniel's face was pale.

“She has a fever,” he responded, walking nervously around the room. “I don’t think she can wait for a miracle at this point and needs painkillers that are not expired!”

“Relax, Daniel. She’s gonna be fine,” Trevor said in a toneless voice. “She has to sleep it off. Nothing’s better medicine than some sleep.”

“Yeah, but you’re forgetting that not everyone is stuffed with drugs like you, Trevor! She needs to take something to bring down the fever, but we don’t have anything like this here!” Daniel could not hold back the anger anymore, so he couldn't care less about the tone of his voice. “She’s been sleeping it off for over twenty hours now and it’s not helping at all! I think--”

“Don’t even think of getting out of this house, Dan!” Trevor threatened him and put his pointing finger in front of Dan’s face. “I swear if you do that…”

"Then what?!" Daniel snapped at Trevor, who clearly did not like his attitude.

“Then I’ll go and get her whatever she needs,” Michael stated out of sudden, not thinking much about what he was about to do and ignoring the angry look on his friend’s face. “For me, it’s like, you know,  easy peasy .” 

“What?” Slipped out of Daniel’s mouth as he did not expect such a reaction from Michael. 

“You also lost your fucking mind, don’t you?” Trevor could also not believe what had just happened. “If any of you leave, they might spot you and that’ll make the whole damn situation much worse!”

“They  might  spot me,” Michael repeated slowly, “but we don’t even know if they’re even watching us! We’re sitting here just as a precaution while they might be basically anywhere! Phoebe needs these meds now and that’s certain.” He got up from the bench and approached the doors. “I won’t risk something bad happening to her, because you want us to sit and wait. Oh, sorry. You want Daniel to sit and wait,” he corrected himself. “You didn’t mention me in your threat.”

“You’re risking her life by walking out of this place! You’re not thinking straight,  sugar tits ,” Trevor fired back. A blink of an eye later, he pulled out a gun from behind his dirty, grey sweatpants and pointed it at Michael. 

The other man did not hesitate and immediately pulled out his gun, too. 

They were standing and pointing their guns at each other while Daniel almost felt bad for not having two guns to point at them both. “If you shoot me, I’ll shoot you, too,” Michael hissed through gritted teeth, “and then we’re gonna have a serious problem.” 

“Why are you even doing this? For a woman who can barely look at you?” Trevor mocked, not quite believing Michael was ready to pull the trigger. “I beg you, don’t make a bigger fool out of yourself.”

“Lower your goddamn gun and let me pass,” Michael said in a tone that would not accept the objection. “I don’t have time for arguing with you now!”

Trevor shook his head, disappointed and angry, but did as he was told. He slowly lowered his gun and let Michael pass, cursing under his breath as the other man walked out of the garage.

He quickly checked whether his gun was loaded and his keys were still in the pocket of his suit trousers. For a moment, he heard the sounds of a quarrel coming from behind him, but neither Trevor nor Daniel tried to get in his way. 

He was not planning on backing off, either. 

This was his chance to prove he was indeed tired of convenience and ready like never before, to risk it all. To show he was ready to do what it takes. 

All of it for a woman who was like a raging fire, but he was not afraid to get burned for her.

Notes:

I haven't left any chapter note in a while, but with this chapter I felt a need to thank you all so much for reading and leaving comments. It really means a lot. 🤗

Chapter 23: Exposed

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

If there was something Michael was excellent at, it was making sure the job was done. Throughout the years, he had many occasions to test himself in various situations and he never left them unfinished, no matter what was the price he had to pay to handle some things, all that mattered was the result.

Trevor told him these people he had messed up with could be watching the house, but he did not spot anything unusual or disturbing after he had left. However, his hand remained tightened on his gun and he was ready for any possibility.

It was not just about him this time, so he had to be extra careful. It was not the first time he was doing such a thing, but he was feeling nervous. He rarely was nervous, but these few times in his life when he was really stressed always included someone close to him. His children. Amanda. 

Phoebe.

He could not let himself get distracted, even if the situation was relatively calm, because, not knowing why, he felt someone’s eyes on him. He did not know whose eyes were watching him, but he remained cautious. 

He tried to stay focused, but his thoughts were returning to Phoebe. It did not matter how hard he tried not to think about her, he always ended up doing it. She was everything he could think of at that moment; she probably did not know, but the more she was pushing Michael away, the more he wanted her. The more he was realising how badly he had messed up by not telling her the truth and knowing he was willing to do anything to fix what he had destroyed.

It was his chance to prove he truly cared about her. Probably the last he had, so he would be an even bigger fool if he ruined it. 

He reached his car, turned on the engine and rode away, realising he had just become an easy target.

But if anyone thought Trevor was unpredictable at times, they surely did not know Michael well enough. Whoever was observing him had no idea who they’d messed up with.


Hours were passing and Michael was not coming back.

“How long can going to a damn drugstore take?” Daniel said to himself as he kept pacing back and forth through the living room. He was getting nervous as intrusive thoughts came to his mind, making him regret he did not stop Michael from going out there to get these meds.

What if Trevor was right and these guys were watching their house? He did not like Michael, but he did not want him to get hurt, either. Especially since Michael was doing it for his sister.

Daniel was not a complete idiot. Michael would probably never leave this place if it was not for Phoebe. He was a douche, but apparently, not as big as he had seemed to be or maybe, it was just a trick. Maybe Michael wanted Daniel to believe he truly cared about his sister… 

Daniel shook his head, realising he was making things up. Besides, it did not matter at that moment. It did not matter what Michael’s motives were.

What or rather who mattered was Phoebe and as soon as Michael would come back with the medicine, Daniel would not question his motivation. However, the minutes were passing and he was still gone. 

“Hey, you.” The hoarse voice of Phoebe dragged him out of thought. “Can you get me a glass of water?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Daniel replied, walked to the kitchen, poured some water from the sink to the glass and returned to her. He handed her the glass, and she thanked him. “How do you feel?” 

“I’ve been better.” The answer was short. “I feel like my throat was a goddamn desert,” she added after she drained the glass and put it on the ground, by the couch. “I want to sleep… I want to sleep so badly, but my head is pounding…”

“Try to rest, Phoebe,” he returned and sat down on the couch, beside Phoebe’s legs. “I got you. I’m here and I ain’t going anywhere. 

He wondered whether it would be wise to tell her about Michael going outside to get her medicine, but he did not want to make her even more worried. On the other hand, she had a right to know what was going on. She had a right to know that there was a chance she would feel better relatively soon. 

“Michael went to get you some meds,” Daniel said after a while. “You’re gonna feel better soon, I promise--” 

“He did what?” Her eyes widened in surprise. “Has he gone mad? I don’t… I’ll feel better, I just…” She could not find words, so eventually, she let out a deep sigh. “He needn’t have to do this for me.” 

“Well, it looks like you’re important to him,” Daniel responded, shifting into a more comfortable position. “He should be back soon. Don’t worry,” he added, trying to believe in the words he had just said. “I’m pretty sure he would like to see you resting once he returns.” 

“I have to try to rest, anyway,” Phoebe said, hoping Daniel would not see through her and would not notice how the thought of Michael caring for her made her feel. Her heart stung and she began wishing she could hug him. 

Something crazy must have happened to her.

She went from being angry to being sensitive within seconds, blaming it on a fever, even if it was not necessarily true. It was irrational, but she could not fool herself any longer. Michael’s arms were the only place she felt completely safe. The truth about him infuriated her, made her bitter and disappointed, but it did not change the way she had felt when he was around.

Out of a sudden, she craved to feel this way again. To feel the warmth of his body, the smell of his cologne, the taste of his lips on hers and all the other things she should not have missed, but she did miss them. Her heart started a war and did not want to give up, no matter how hard her mind was trying to fight it.

“Phoebe? Are you okay?” Daniel asked, seeing her sister stared ahead blankly. She shuddered at the sound of her voice, moving her attention back on him. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she returned. “Got lost in a thought, that’s it.” 

“Try to sleep. I mean it,” he told her and she sat up, shifting towards him and placing her head on his right thigh. 

“Would you caress my head, please? You know it makes me calmer,” Phoebe said and Daniel could not refuse. Her head felt like a small heater against his thigh, but he did not mind. He slowly began caressing the back of her head the way she liked it the most when they were younger. The memories of the nights he spent caressing her like this were still vivid, so he knew exactly how to do that. 

“Thanks, Dan,” she murmured, closing her eyes. Daniel did not smell like Michael, his touch was nothing like Michael’s, but somehow, the way he stroked her head quickly calmed her, giving her an illusion of safety big enough to let her fall asleep again.

Phoebe could not recall the moment Michael returned, but after some time, her brother woke her up to give her the painkillers she needed. Half sleeping, half-awakened, without asking questions, she took them. She did not need much time to fall asleep again and when she did, she felt at ease.


“911. What’s your emergency?”

Michael was lacking words. His heart was pounding in his chest as the bloodstain on this girl’s jeans was getting bigger and bigger. 

“Halo?”

His throat was dry, but he somehow forced himself to speak. “A woman… She was shot… She’s heavily bleeding…” He was uttering pieces of information that came to his mind. 

The operator asked for the rest of the details because Michael seemed to forget how to speak and barely replied to the questions the woman on the other side of the phone asked him. 

“Stay where you are and keep pressing the wound,” she told him at the end of their conversation. “An ambulance is going to be there soon.”

She hung up. 

He knew it was on him now. If this girl would live or die, it would be on him. The life of an innocent person was put at risk because of his recklessness. 

The minutes before the ambulance arrived felt like an eternity to him. He was battling with his thoughts, blaming himself for all of it and hoping she would make it. He was close to praying, looking at her unconscious face with horror when he heard the signal and the red-blue light of the emergency vehicle, he left.


He could have left again, but this time, he decided to stay. 

After he returned and washed the blood from his hands, he joined Daniel in Phoebe’s bedroom where he had carried her to a few minutes earlier. They exchanged meaningful looks, but it was Daniel who decided to speak up first. 

“Thanks for…” he sighed, not being able to spit it out. “You know.” He patted Michael’s arm once the man sat on the edge of his sister’s bed. 

“I know,” Michael responded. “Can I—”

“Sure. I’ll leave you with her,” Daniel cut in, knowing well Michael earned what he was about to ask for. He returned with everything his sister needed, with blood on his hands and sleeves, but neither Trevor nor Daniel asked him for the details. They knew well what could possibly happen out there. “You got this?”

Michael nodded, and Daniel walked out of the bedroom, closing the doors behind him. 

For a while, Michael was staring at Phoebe, at her now calm and peaceful face. If everything he had to do meant she would be safe, it was definitely worth it. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt, so the bloodstains would not be visible and carefully laid down beside her. 

He let his eyes close for a moment that turned out to be longer than expected and when he opened them, it was dark around him. Phoebe’s right hand was gently caressing his chest as she was lying on the side, watching it going up and down with each breath he took. 

“Hey, Michael,” she whispered. “Nobody smells alike, so I figured it was you. Oh, and the shirt was another clue.”

“How—how do you feel?” he asked, confused after this unexpected nap he had taken. What if he was still dreaming? Was she really caressing his chest?

“Better. Thanks to you or so I’ve heard,” she returned, reaching to turn on the bedside lamp. Once it got brighter in the room, she eyed him, quickly noticing the stains he tried to hide. “You really… You needn’t have to…”

“I had to,” he interjected. “You needed these meds, so the least I could do was to go and get them for you.”

“Your sleeves… Is this…”

“It’s not mine,” he assured her. “Don’t bother your pretty head with it, okay? Rest… Just rest. It’s been a long day.”

She turned on her back and sighed. “What did you do?”

“What I had to do. Don’t make me talk about this, okay? I just… You're safe now. You’re feeling better. That’s what matters to me,” he said, turning from his back to the side, so he could see her face. “I’m so sorry I put you in that position in the first place.”

Phoebe turned her head towards him and her dark eyes were glistening in the weak light of the bedside lamp. “Oh, Michael…” 

“Hey, what’s going on?” He shifted, propping on his elbow. She tried to look away, but his left hand stopped her from turning her head from him. “Talk to me, Phoebe.”

“I’m so mad at you for being this reckless and risking your life for me! You shouldn’t have done that. I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you because of me,” she told him. 

“And I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you. I almost lost you back there... I wouldn’t risk losing you again,” he confessed. “I’m a liar, I cheat. I generally am no good, but I…”

He eventually had to spit it out. He could not run from admitting it forever, so he took a deep breath, leaned down to her ear and whispered: “I love you.”

Her heart skipped a beat or two. A shiver ran through her body and for a second, she thought her fever was rising again and it was something her mind made up, but no. 

He really said that.

She moved away from a little just so her lips could meet his in a gentle kiss. He eagerly returned it, slipping his tongue into her mouth and brushing it against hers. He let himself forget she was still weakened by the fever, but once he reminded himself of that fact, he stopped, pulling away slowly. 

“You should rest…”

“I don’t want to rest, Michael,” she blurted, frustrated by the fact he stopped. “I… I mean…” 

“I think I know what you mean,” he said. “It would be a lie if I said I don’t want the same, but we can’t… Oh fuck it,” he stated once he realised he was not capable of holding himself back and returned to her lips. 

He did not know how long they were kissing, but no matter how long it was, he did not have enough. If it was up to him, he would never let her out of his arms again. 

She kicked the quilt of her and tried to climb onto him, but her efforts were pointless. He held her down, pinning both of her hands on both sides of her head. “You’re staying down, baby, surrounded by pillows, so you wouldn’t get hurt,” he laughed quietly at his own joke. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you, either,” he added, his tone more serious. 

“You have to be more gentle then.”

“You have to be more careful, too,” he pointed his head at her calves. “Do they hurt much?”

“Thanks to the painkillers you brought me, everything is bearable,” she replied. 

“Remind me, why am I agreeing on this?” he chuckled, letting go of her hands and getting rid of her top, so she remained only in her underwear. 

“Because you love me,” she reminded him. “That’s what you said a moment ago.”

“Oh, right,” he marked, unbuttoning his shirt and once he took it off, he threw it aside. “I sometimes forget what I say. You know, that’s what old age does to you.”

“You’re not old, silly,” she countered. “By the way, can you say that again?” 

“I love you,” he repeated, pulling down her panties and making sure they did not touch the bandages on her calves. When she was completely naked from the waist down, he laid down beside her and reached to brush her folds, sliding his fingers inside. “These three words do that to you?” he smirked, finding her clit and rubbing it gently. 

“You do that to me,” she panted as Michael started to kiss her collarbones and neck, two most sensitive spots except the obvious one, which he was also handling pretty well. “You’ve been making me lose my mind since the day you showed up in front of Café… Redemption. I…” Michael nipped on her soft skin and she gasped. “I meant it when I told you I love you back then.”

“I still think it’s a very poor choice,” he pulled away to look her in the eyes. “Do you still feel it? Or are you like, um, over me by this point?” 

“Over you? Impossible,” she smiled gently. “I love you. It might be a poor choice, but it’s mine,” she added. His fingers were still working her up slowly as if he was afraid he could hurt her if he used any force. “I’m not a porcelain doll, Michael. I won’t break if you touch me…” He shushed her with a kiss, not wanting to argue with her at the moment. He felt her smile when his lips covered hers, and she stopped talking, so he could act.

He kept touching her while his lips were wandering down her cheeks, neck, cleavage, breasts until he reached the bottom of her abdomen, the places where her scars were. He kissed the sensitive skin over there, piece by piece, his fingers rhythmically sliding in and out of her. He also kissed the scar on her left thigh, and slowly, returned to her lower belly.

He carefully moved between her legs, facing a small resistance when he leaned down and brushed the inner side of her right thigh with his cheek. “Relax, baby,” he murmured between kisses and a second later, he sucked on her clit, getting a very quiet moan in response. She rocked her hips, trying to get more friction from his fingers and tilted her head back when Michael’s moves became firmer. 

She moaned his name, and Michael could swear this was one of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard. He was not rushing, his fingers moving at a steady pace and so was his tongue that was brushing her folds alternating with her  really  sensitive spot. 

He could go on like this, his head between her legs, his fingers inside and his left hand resting on her thigh, but she was getting impatient. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, withdrawing his hand and pulling away from her, so he could hover over her, propping on his hands placed on both sides of her head. She looked at him with these big, dark eyes, and immediately figured what she wanted. “Phoebe, I don’t think it’s a good idea. You’re weak, hurt, I really don’t know…”

“We can go slow,” she returned. “I need you. I want to feel you all over me, skin to skin…” 

He sighed. How could he even consider resisting such a request?

“Fine, just let me get a---”

“I’m on a pill,” she cut in. “You don’t have to get anything.”

Michael looked at Phoebe, his eyes glistening. His hand reached out to unbuckle the belt of his trousers then unzipped them, pulling them down to his knees with one smooth move. He gave himself a few strokes and lowered down to tease her, rubbing her entrance with the tip of his member. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked, brushing her burned cheeks with his. She was blushing as she nodded and he tried to be as gentle as it was possible when he slid inside her. She bit her bottom lip, trying to mute the sounds she wanted to let out while he started thrusting slowly, making sure she felt all his length. 

“God,” she gasped when after a moment of this slow pace, he sped up a bit. He buried his face in her neck, focusing on not causing her any harm and fighting the need of taking her so roughly, she would be nothing but a moaning mess. “Look at me, Michael,” she said out of sudden, and he lifted his head, doing exactly what she told him. She parted her lips, her eyes focused on him as he kept thrusting in her and her hands wrapped around his neck. “I’m yours.”

“Then be a good girl and touch yourself down there for me,” he panted, feeling he was getting close and wanting the same for her. The sweet finale. 

Michael did not know whether it was the effect of her words or the way she tightened around him once her fingers began working on her clit, but a few thrusts later, he came and a deep groan escaped his mouth. Mixed with the moan Phoebe let out, the sound they made was pretty loud, and Michael could only hope Daniel had enough decency in him to walk away from the doors once he had closed them.

His tired body fell down next to hers, and they both took a minute to process what had just happened between them. Phoebe’s heart was still pounding in her chest and this blissful feeling was still present in her body as she smiled lazily, and turned on her side to look at Michael. 

“I’m going to get myself cleaned and be right back,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. She carefully stood up, searching for her panties and once she pulled them on, she approached the doors. 

“Be careful not to hit your brother with the doors,” Michael joked, but a part of him would not be surprised if Daniel sat by them. 

“You’re not funny,” Phoebe replied, but opened the doors slowly, just in case. 

She left the bedroom and once Michael was alone with his thoughts, he realised what he had done. It was not about sex, but something much more intimate. He told her he loved her. 

He, the man who had thought he would never fall in love again, was in love. For the first time in a very long time, he let himself be vulnerable and this feeling was something he was not used to. 

To love and to be loved.

He forgot how it felt.

Notes:

I know.... I'm so soft and so is Michael in this one, but I feel like there was no point in denying it anymore... I don't know... Phoebe deserves some happiness, right? I think she does, but the real question is - what do you think?

Chapter 24: Strange Normality

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Michael was awakened by the noise coming from the other part of the room. He opened up his blue eyes lazily, his hand searching for Phoebe, but she was no longer in bed. He turned to the side, preparing himself to get up, but he wished he could stay in bed for a few more minutes. 

Last night was special. He and Phoebe talked a lot after she had returned to bed and snuggled up against him, holding him tightly as if she feared he might run away. He was not planning on that. If it was up to him, he would stay with her in this bed for a very long time, doing very inappropriate, but pleasant things. 

As they were talking, he told her once again about his past and this time, she carefully listened to what he was saying. She was not blinded by anger, but willing to learn as much as she could about him. She wanted to know because it was the only way that would help her understand and accept what kind of a man Michael was. 

He was not that saint as she had thought he was. He did bad things in his life. Things he regretted, things he would never do again if he had a choice, but he did not have one. He had done all those things and had to learn to live with them. He had to accept them and move forward. 

As Phoebe was listening to Michael confessing to her his past, she realised he was not the only one who regretted things he had done. She could also name a few things she would gladly erase from her biography. Daniel could name some. Not mentioning Trevor who had probably done things way much worse than Michael... Or maybe, they both were alike. It was not for her to judge, anyway. 

Judging anyone was the last thing she wanted to do that night. Not when he exposed himself, telling her how he felt and opened up again, not hiding anything from her anymore.

Michael blinked a few times, the morning light still too bright for him. He reluctantly sat up and reached for the shirt he had thrown on the floor last night and put it on, his fingers quickly buttoning it as he got up from the bed. He put on his shoes, adjusted his shirt once it was on and left Phoebe’s bedroom, following the sounds that were coming from the kitchen. 

An idyllic scene appeared in front of him. Daniel was wandering around the kitchen, looking for something on the shelves, Trevor was leaning against the counter and finishing his coffee while Phoebe... Michael smiled brightly at the sight of her sitting on the couch, changing the bandages on her left calf. He approached her from behind and she tilted her head back to look at him. “Good morning,” she said softly and it felt like there was no one else except them in the room, so he leaned down to kiss her gently. The fact Daniel and Trevor could be watching did not matter to him at all. 

“Good morning,” he returned, pulling away, smile still on his face. “How do you feel?”

“How can she feel after a night with you, Mikey?” Trevor teased, peeking at them both. “It must’ve been steamy, because the sounds—” 

“Oh, no, no, no, shut the fuck up, Trevor. Don’t ruin my morning with a detailed description of what they were doing last night,” Daniel cut him off, pulling a plate out of one of the shelves above the countertop. 

“But you heard—“

“I like to pretend I didn’t,” Daniel had cut Trevor off before he could continue. “Hey, Michael. Want an omelette? I just made one,” he offered, pointing his head at the pan on the stove and that was when Michael realised how hungry he was as he could not recall the last time he ate. 

“I think he wants one,” Phoebe said after a moment of Michael’s silence. “Oh, and I feel much better. Still on painkillers, but—” she coughed, “I’m fine.” 

“Your cough still sounds horrible, Phoebe,” Daniel marked, walking to the coffee table and putting a plate with an omelette on it. “Bon appetite... I guess.”

“Thanks,” Michael replied, realising Daniel was not even mad about the fact... There was no need to dwell on that. Not when there was a deliciously looking omelette waiting in front of him. 

“No one said recovering is a quick process,” she returned, watching Michael sitting down beside her and reaching for a fork. “I don’t think I’m gonna have scars from these burns, too, but the skin over there is really sensitive and probably will be like this for some time.”

“You’re gonna be fine,” Daniel said, grabbing two cups of coffee and placing them on the table, one for him and the second one for Michael. “I didn’t ask, because I figured you could use one.”

Michael raised his sight from the plate, looking at Daniel questioningly, but did not ask about his reasons. “Thanks,” he said and continued eating an omelette, which tasted even better than it looked. 

From the other side of the room, Trevor was watching Daniel sitting on the armchair by the sofa and saying something to Phoebe, completely ignoring the fact Michael was there, too. “Alright, I see we all pretending nothing happened between these two,” he stated, shaking his head in disbelief when Michael sneezed. “See? That’s what happens when you sleep with someone who’s sick. You get sick, too,” Trevor pointed, receiving a glare from each one of them. “What? Tell me you two didn’t fuck—”

“What’s your deal, T? You’re jealous or what?”  Michael asked once he swallowed the bite he had in his mouth. 

“Jealous?” The other man puffed. “Why would I be?”

“You can’t shut up about it, so it must be bothering you,” Michael replied, keeping his voice low. “Daniel told you to let it go, so let the fuck go.” 

“Oh, now you two are making a coalition?” Trevor pointed his finger at his friend then moved it to Daniel. “That’s so fucking interesting. You two couldn’t stand each other a few days ago. Is being trapped in the same room all it takes to go from enemies to friends?”

“We’re not friends,” Daniel opposed immediately. “No offence,” he turned to Michael, who did not seem to care much about this statement. Then, he turned back to Trevor. “What do you want me to do? Stab him with a fork?”

Michael could not hold back a chuckle. “I want to see that.”

“Fuck, no,” Trevor replied, irritated by the fact his friend was amused by Daniel’s words. “You could stop acting as if you want to suck him off, though.”

“I’m trying to be friendly.” 

“But you’re acting fucking weird,” Trevor fired back, rolling his eyes. “I think I’m gonna get going before I’ll get sick from watching this. I have things to do at Vanilla, anyway.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Daniel said, putting down an empty cup. “I also have something to do in Los Santos.”

“Something or someone?” Trevor winked at the younger man discreetly and he looked at him angrily. “Fine, fine. You do you and I’ll take care of my business.”

Phoebe’s attention was drawn to her brother and his reaction to Trevor’s words. She noticed a sudden change in his behaviour but did not know where it came from. She did not suspect him to be intimidated, because he was not the type. What was going on with him in that case? She did not dwell while Daniel did not waste time. A minute later, already in a new set of clothes - grey jeans and a white t-shirt - he was ready to leave with Trevor.

“When will you be back?” she asked, watching him putting on his jean jacket. 

“Don’t know,” Daniel replied shortly, not wanting to get into details. “Depends on how much work I have in LS.”

“I’d like to say it was a pleasure, but we all know being stuck in one place together was no pleasure, so I’m gonna spare us all another lie,” Trevor said, searching for something in the pocket of his trousers. “You coming, Dan?” 

The other man nodded and they left together in a hurry right after they said their goodbyes. Neither Michael nor Phoebe tried to stop them, both of them more than happy to get some alone time. “You want more?” She pointed her head at the empty plate. 

“No, I’m good,” Michael responded. “I think I could use a shower and a new set of clothes. Don’t you have any shirt of my size by any chance?”

“I think I can come up with something,” Phoebe told him and at the same moment, she heard a buzz of a phone. She looked around and found the source of the sound on the kitchen countertop. “Is that yours?”

“I’ve got mine in my jacket.”

“It’s not mine, either.” She got up and walked to the counter, quickly realising the phone belonged to Daniel. It buzzed again, the screen turned on and that was when she saw the photo of her half-naked best friend set as wallpaper. Then, her eyes instinctively wandered to the messages that kept coming on Dan’s phone.

Amy 00:28
Sent you a pic. Like what you see?

Amy 02:32
I can’t sleep. I wish you were here.

Amy 09:34
Good morning.

Amy 09:44
Come over. I miss you.

The sound of rapidly opened doors made her turn the screen off at once and Daniel hurried inside. “Hey, have you seen my phone—“ He stopped, seeing Phoebe holding it in her right hand. 

“Yeah, you left it on the countertop,” she handed it to him, not wanting the situation to get awkward. “Take care, Dan,” she added when she decided she would not say a word about what she had just seen. Truth to be told, she was not even mad at him. She was confused and did not know what to think about it, how it happened, how she did not notice it earlier, but eventually, she concluded none of it mattered. Daniel decided to step out of controlling her, so it seemed fair for her to do the same.

“You too, Pheebs,” he said as he took the phone from her. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I think I won’t need anything, but okay.”

He left right after she’d spoken these words, the sound of the doors closed in a rush followed. Phoebe was standing and thinking about everything and nothing at once until Michael wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. “What was that supposed to mean?”

“I just... I guess you were not the only person I didn’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she cut off this topic, knowing that it was better to leave some things as they were. Hidden. Buried deep down. “It’s nothing serious. I’m a bit surprised Daniel’s seeing someone, that’s it.”

“What’s so surprising about it? He’s a grown-up man. Maybe he wants to start to act like one?”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Phoebe returned. 

“Have some faith. You seemed to see some potential in me, so why can’t you see some in your brother? The way he behaved this morning was... He was trying, I think.”

“I don’t know what I think about all this. I’m glad you two didn’t jump to each other’s throats.”

“Yeah, considering he actually heard what we were doing last night...” 

“We weren’t that loud.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, baby,” Michael pecked her on the neck. “You’re louder than you think you are—“

“Don’t you have work to go to?” Phoebe asked, trying to sound offended but instead, she laughed when he tickled her neck with his kisses. 

“I’m exactly where I supposed to be,” he responded when she freed herself from his grasp and turned around to look at him, a strand of her dark brown hair falling on her face.

“And where’s that exactly?”

“By your side.”


“Ah, man, Phoebe’s gonna be so pissed at me,” Daniel sighed, his eyes set at the screen of his phone. He did not want to admit it in front of his sister, but a part of him was sure she had seen the messages from Amy. “I'm such an idiot."

“So is this thing with Amy serious?” Trevor asked, still looking on the road. “Among all the girls you had to pick the one who’s your sister’s best friend. Of course, Phoebe’s gonna be fucking pissed, because you didn’t even dare to tell her that something happened between you and Amy.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what this thing with Amy is, but we kept texting each other and...”

“Spare me this sloppy story,” Trevor waved his right hand dismissively. “You know what’s your problem is? It’s also Michael’s problem, so that’s funny. You both think if you keep quiet about something, things somehow will get better. I tell you, they won’t. Sometimes you have to tell the fucking truth, no matter how painful it might be... Your sister deserves the truth, but what she gets are two men who have no clue how to be honest. Oh, and a shitty friend, because it’s also on Amy.”

“It’s not her fault.”

“She could as well told Phoebe she was planning to get in your pants.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Daniel returned, feeling somewhat embarrassed he was talking about his romantic life with Trevor. “Forget I even started—”

“That’s why you were acting so weird back there? Oh, not mentioning you literally ignored the fact Michael banged your sister under your nose.”

“You should’ve seen Michael’s face yesterday when he came to see Phoebe... He was... The way he looked at her was telling more than any amount of words could,” Daniel explained. “I honestly don’t care what they do when they’re alone. I just want my sister to be with someone who cares and he... He seems to care. The other thing is that I was hoping for Phoebe to be more understanding once she finds out about... You know. I guess it doesn’t matter now since she already knows.”

“Maybe that’s better,” Trevor’s statement caught Daniel off guard. “I mean, she’ll have more time to process it.”

“Maybe,” the other man repeated. “There’s nothing I can do about that now, huh?”

Trevor smirked, but this time, he decided to skip responding to Daniel’s question. He focused on the road and kept driving on the highway while Daniel turned on the screen of his phone. An instinctive smile appeared on his face, this weird, fuzzy feeling filling his body once he looked at the photo of Amy. 

“By the way, it’s stupid to set a photo of an undressed girl on the wallpaper. It’s like you tried to avoid being guilty, but wear a plate with “I’m guilty as fuck” written on it,” Trevor said casually. 

Daniel shrugged, letting his companion’s remark slip. He typed a message and hit sent right after it was done. 

You 10:34
Can’t wait to see you.


“I didn’t think you would pick up,” a man’s voice said over the phone when Phoebe put it next to her ear. “You declined all my previous calls. Is old Phoebe back?”

“Has she ever left?” Phoebe returned, sitting at the edge of her bed. “Good to hear you, Murphy. I’m sorry I wasn’t picking up, I was... Busy. Things have been hectic lately.”

“What have you been up to? It’s been over a month since you left me a voicemail. Well, I knew you tried to call me back, but...”

“Can we stop doing that? We had our reasons. The most important thing is that we eventually found some time to talk,” she interjected. “I’ve been... I’m seeing someone. I think it might be something serious,” she smiled under her breath at the thought of Michael. 

“Is this the same man you were with at your mother’s funeral?”

“Yes.”

“Is he... Is he good for you? 

Phoebe took a moment to think of an answer. “Yes,” she said firmly. “I’m happy. You know, I didn’t think I would ever be truly happy again after dad passed, but I... I’m happy now and I mean it. Also, I’ve been searching for a job. I know I didn’t get a degree, but... I was also thinking about going back and get it.”

“Woah, slow down with all the news,” a man laughed on the other side. “Back to med school?” 

“I guess. I mean, I don’t know if that’s even possible, but I’m considering doing it,” Phoebe responded. “I think dad would like that.”

“He definitely would,” Murphy confirmed. “If you need my help at anything, just let me know. I know people...”

“I know, but I haven't make that decision just yet.” 

“Alright, I won’t push you. How’s Daniel?”

“Good. Probably,” she replied then bit her bottom lip. “He’s also been busy, but he checks on me from time to time, being this protective older brother he has always wanted to be, which is weird, because... We weren’t like this. I couldn’t stand looking at him for so long and now... It’s as if I realised I have no family left except for him and that makes me... I don’t know, Murphy. I’m so confused about it.”

“Rebuilding what you two had as siblings can take a while. Don’t force yourself to do that, okay? He’s your brother, but your feelings about him don’t have to be positive, even if he’s the only one family member you got left.”

“Well, now that I think of it, you’re also my family.”

“Yeah, but I think your brother has a different role in your life than I do,” Murphy returned, his voice kind and understanding. “I know you’ve been through a lot, Phoebe. Give yourself time. There’s no rush... Speaking of which, I’ve got to go,” he added, another slurred voice coming from behind him. “We’ll be in touch. I plan on visiting LS soon and I really hope you find some time, so I could take my goddaughter for dinner?”

“I’d love that,” Phoebe replied and at the same time, she heard someone knocking at the doors. “Take care, Murphy.”

“You too, Pheebs.”

She hung up, throwing her phone on the bed and hurried out of her bedroom. Through a viewfinder, she saw Amy standing on the other side of her doors, waiting for her to open up.

“Hey, stranger,” Amy said when Phoebe opened the doors. “It’s been way too long since the last time we saw each other and I thought... I brought wine and your favourite crisps.” She lifted the plastic bag filled with food and mentioned the bottle. “Come on, don’t make me ask you twice.”

“Come in,” Phoebe smiled, moving aside so Amy could walk through the doors. “I don’t know about wine, but I certainly want the crisps.”

“Suit yourself,” Amy shrugged. They walked to the kitchen and knowing where Phoebe kept everything, she prepared the bowl full of crisps and placed two wine glasses on the table. “In case you changed your mind,” she stated and sat down on the parallel side of the square table. “So... How are you?”

“Okay, I think. I’ve been doing stuff, seeing Michael and generally... It’s okay,” Phoebe replied. “I know I haven’t been around lately and I’m sorry for it.”

“No, it's not your fault. I mean, it’s your fault, but it's also mine. You checked on me after you returned from Sandy Shores. I messed up, I guess. I’ve been a bit busy lately.”

“I get that.”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t care, okay? You’re my bestie. It’s just...” Amy was searching for words, but Phoebe did not need an explanation. 

“That’s how life works, Amy. I get that you’re busy doing other things. I don’t take it personally.” 

“Oh... Okay,” Amy seemed to be surprised with such a reaction coming from her friend. “How are things with Michael? I saw him leaving your place a few times this week.”

“We’re good. I’m happy, Amy. Whatever it is, it might not be ideal, but... He makes me really happy,” Phoebe replied, watching Amy pouring herself some wine. 

“So, can he keep up with you?” What was supposed to be a joke, a friendly joke, was something that made Phoebe irritated. 

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she responded. “Can my brother keep up with you?” Slipped out of her mouth and made Amy speechless. 

Amy knew that at some point the truth would come to the light, but it was easier for her while it was still in the dark. She did not deny it, though. She was looking at Phoebe as she swallowed loudly, not really knowing what to say. “I... It’s... It just... I can explain.”

“What do you want to explain? It’s obvious what you two are doing. I’m not even mad, you know, more like... Sad?”

“Phoebe...”

“Were you planning on telling me about it at some point?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter since Daniel already told you...”

“He didn’t tell me.” Phoebe laughed in disbelief. “He had your photo set as a wallpaper. Oh, and I saw your texts.”

“I’m sorry,” Amy said after a moment of silence. “I’m so sorry, Phoebe...”

“For what? For hooking up with my brother or not telling me about it?” Phoebe reached for the wine bottle and poured herself some, too. “I need a drink.”

“For both, I think,” Amy returned. “It just happened, I... I met your brother at Vanilla and... I don’t know what got into me and...”

“I’m not mad about the fact you somehow got together, but neither of you decided to tell me about it,” Phoebe told her, then took a sip of wine. She coughed, grimacing a bit at the taste of the red liquid. “God, what’s that?” 

“It’s the same wine we always drink. Your favourite,” Amy explained, then took a drink herself. “It tastes... Okay? I don’t know. Right now I would drink anything that has alcohol in it.”

“Yeah, I guess I’ll really skip on wine this time.”

“I wanted to tell you, okay? I told Daniel how important it is for me for you to know, but... I was scared this fact will mess up our friendship,” Amy continued once Phoebe put down her glass. 

“You know what messes up friendships? Lies. If I’m mad, it’s only because you decided to lie to me. When it comes to you and Daniel... I’m more concerned he won’t be good for you, but I... I don’t mind,” Phoebe stated, sending Amy a warm smile. “Though I have to admit that’s a bit uncomfortable, but... If you two are happy and won’t bring me into this... I can live with that.”

“I’m so sorry.” Embarrassment was all over Amy’s face and she sounded as if she really meant it. “I care about our friendship, okay? If you want me to stop seeing Dan...”

“No,” Phoebe shook her head. “We’re friends, Aims and we’re not twelve anymore. Just don’t be another person who lies to me. Can you do that?”

“Totally. From now I’m gonna tell you about everything,” Amy’s face lightened up and embarrassment was replaced by relief. 

“If you want to,” Phoebe said calmly, shifting on the chair and reaching for some crips.

"Just don’t tell me too many details," she added, smiling the way only she could.

Notes:

I know it took me a while and I'm not sure whether I'm completely happy with the result, but I'm kinda glad it's done (finally...). 😉 Still, I hope you're gonna enjoy this one! Thank you so much for reading!

Chapter 25: Two Lines

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

A few days later, Phoebe found herself lying on the lounger by the pool, her arms and legs sore as Michael had been trying to teach her how to play tennis for two hours straight. The sun was shining hard on her tired face and she was happy it was over. She was not a fan of any sport. She only used to run for a short time in her life as she was in her early twenties and then stopped, realizing sport was not her thing. 

However, Michael really wanted to play with her It could be because he wanted to see her in this short tennis skirt, but he explained himself by saying he had promised to teach her one day. Phoebe could not recall that, probably denied it, but did not argue with him and agreed just to see this proud smirk on his face. He was happy to teach her, happy to show her everything, step by step and extremely happy to play with her even if he had to give her a head start. Still, it was exhausting and both of them could not wait to get rid of the sweaty sports clothes and change into swimsuits. 

Phoebe did change while Michael had to leave for a moment as they called him from work. She did not mind it, though. She was perfectly aware he should have technically been at work and the only reason he was not was because he wanted to spend this day with her. 

She put on a black, one-piece bathing suit with a deep v neckline, redid her low ponytail and borrowed Michael’s aviators from the kitchen table where he had placed them after they returned from the tennis court. 

Michael told her there was no need for her to hide her scars and she could wear a two-piece bikini as well, so he could see her, in his opinion, flawless body, but she was hesitant. It was not because she did not believe he could think of her body this way, but she did not feel comfortable knowing her scars are exposed to the daylight and anyone else could see them. 

There was also this scar on her left thigh, but she felt no need to hide it. 

She was lying on the lounger, her eyes closed and the air getting warmer with every minute as it was almost noon when she heard Michael’s voice coming from a distance. “You little thief,” he chuckled, noticing the glasses he was searching for on Phoebe’s nose. “I started thinking I lost them.”

“You stayed inside, so I figured you didn’t need them at the moment,” she responded, sitting up and sending him a smile. “I can give them back to you if you ask nicely.” 

Michael hummed, tilting his head to the side and taking a careful look at her. “I actually think you can keep them, pretty, little thief.”

“I learn from the best.” She sent him a wink and he puffed in response, putting the glass of whiskey down by the lounger and taking a seat next to her. He swung his left leg over the lounger, pulling Phoebe closer to him.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” he replied and she shifted to lean her back against his bare chest. “Though, I have to admit I’m flattered you think I’m the best one.” 

„How’s work? I hope everything’s alright and they don’t need you to come to the studio,” she changed the topic, letting Michael’s remark slip. She knew well how compliments worked on him, but that day, she decided to quit feeding his ego. 

“No, they just wanted to bore me with things I don’t give a damn about. Nothing for you to worry about.” 

“I’m not worrying. It’s just... Sitting by the pool and sunbathing all alone? How horrible that would be?” Phoebe could not help a bit of irony. “I’m glad you’re staying with me, Mikey.” 

“You weren’t so glad when we were playing,” Michael returned, leaving a kiss on her neck. He did that often, whenever she was close because he simply could not resist the sweet, vanilla smell and the softness of her skin over there. “I thought you would curse my name at some point.” 

“Frankly, I was close to doing so. I’m not used to working out. Sorry.” 

“I will make you a tennis player. You’ll see.”

“I’m not sure if I want to become one.” She turned back to look at him. “I’m not an athlete material.” 

“Well, you look like one to me.”

“Oh, please. You saw my brother. We’re genetically skinny,” she said, returning to the previous position. “I never worked out. Never really played any sport.”

“You eat like a tiny bird, too,” Michael pointed, reaching out for the glass of whiskey. 

“That’s not true. I eat small portions, but pretty often,” Phoebe said in her defence but the truth was that she sometimes forgot about her meals. It was not on purpose, she simply did not feel hungry. 

“I’m gonna keep my eye on you, miss. You have to eat regularly, which I know you have a problem with,” he told her then took a sip of his drink. “You sure you don’t want anything to drink?”

“I have a rule, which is I don’t drink alcohol until 5pm. Besides, I drank a bottle of water while we played, so I’m not thirsty at all.” 

“Okay. Suit yourself, baby.” 

He put down the glass and wrapped his arms around her, making himself comfortable and she did the same. Having Phoebe close was important to Michael, feeling her skin against his was making him calm, relaxed. There was nothing that could disturb his inner peace when she was with him. The whole world seemed to disappear and there was only she.  

“You know if we fall asleep like this, we will be unevenly tanned?” Phoebe asked quietly, her body relaxing against his. 

“Do I look like someone who gives a damn about a tan?” Michael replied with a question, and she giggled in response.

“No, you don’t.”

“That’s right,” he said in a hushed voice then, after a while, he carefully took the glasses off Phoebe’s face. Her eyes were closed, her dark eyelashes long even when she did not have them painted. She looked so peaceful, Michael wished he had his phone nearby to take a picture to capture this moment and to keep it forever. 

He just could not get enough of her. Her presence and all the feelings connected were addictive, but Michael did not mind. His life with her in it was different and holding her in his arms was everything he needed to feel calm. 

They remained in that position for only a few minutes, because their peace was disturbed by the high pitched voice of Michael’s daughter coming from the mansion. “I hate you, Jimmy!!!”

Phoebe shuddered, wanting to move away from Michael at once, so they would not be seen together like this, but he stopped her, mouthing "it’s fine" when she looked at him questioningly. 

“What’s up, Trace? What did your brother do this time?” he asked once the young girl approached them by the pool. She had her blonde hair tied in a ponytail, sunglasses on her nose, pink bikini top and jean shorts on her lightly tanned body, but her face was far from content. 

“He came back from a party last night, drunk like some pig, puked on my carpet and now he’s saying it wasn’t him!” she explained briefly, shaking from anger. “Tell him to clean it up, because he’s not listening to me and I ain’t gonna clean this myself!”

“Alright, calm down. I’ll tell Jimmy to pull himself together and clean your room, okay? You don’t have to yell and give your old man a heart attack,” Michael told her, trying to treat her problem seriously. “By the way, when did you come home last night?”

“Does it even matter? Not that you care about it much.” Tracey’s eyes moved to Phoebe and it was obvious she was referring to her. 

“I care about it much more than you can imagine. You’re the most important woman in my life and—”

“Dad, stop it! I... Just tell Jimmy to clean my room.” She shook her head and walked away, biting his bottom lip, so she would not make another scene. It was not easy to see her father with another woman than her mother, but she was too proud to admit it. She was too proud to admit something was bothering her and saying how she felt.

“Why did you do that? It must feel pretty uncomfortable for her to see me with you,” Phoebe stated, looking back at Michael. 

“The other day, she came to me and wanted to talk,” he replied after letting out a deep sigh. “She told me she feels a bit uncomfortable seeing you in the mansion, but she knows it’s my choice. So, if that’s my choice, I want her to get used to the look of us together, Phoebe.”

“But I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable because of me. I... Why didn’t you tell me about it earlier?”

“Because I knew you would react like this. Freak out,” he responded, shifting to a more comfortable position and placing his right hand on hers when she turned around, sitting with her legs on both sides of the lounger, and faced him. “I’ve been doing things for my family my whole life and now I want to do something for me. I’m not hurting my kids. I’m not asking them to like you, but they have to respect you, considering... I signed divorce papers and now, I’m waiting for Amanda to do the same.”

“Do Tracey and Jimmy know about it... I mean, about divorce?” 

“I told them a few days ago,” Michael smiled lightly. “I think they felt it coming for years now, so they were not really surprised.”

“I... I don’t know what to say.” Phoebe looked down, letting a weird sense of guilt hit her. She could not explain it, but she somehow felt guilty for the way things were. “Do you think you would ever get divorced if it wasn’t for me?”

“Perhaps. I told you my marriage ended years ago and I guess we stayed together for the kids and because we... We were familiar with each other, but we both knew it would not work, even if we did try a few times to fix it.” Michael pulled her legs up, placed them on his thighs and started rubbing her calves with great care. “The fact you appeared in my life only made this choice easier. I... You remind me how good it feels to be loved by someone and to love them back.”

“You’re sweet, but it doesn’t make me less concerned about your kids,” she returned. “I don’t want them to feel I somehow take you away from them.”

“Please… My kids are adults,” Michael managed to say when terrific shouts reached the ears of them both. 

“Can you stop shouting? My head is gonna explode if you don’t!” 

“You could’ve drunk more, you idiot! Then your head wouldn’t hurt at all!” Tracey snapped and it sounded as if she and her brother were fighting in the kitchen. 

“Ah, just shut up!” Jimmy snapped.

“Clean my room from your vomit and I’ll gladly shut up!” The girl shouted back at him. “I want to use my bedroom and I can’t because you probably mistook it for a bathroom in the morning!”

“You came drunk, too!”

“Not as drunk as you!”

“Do you think I should go there and intervene?” Michael asked and Phoebe got her legs off him, making it easier for him to stand up. “They might burn this mansion down if I don’t.” 

“Yeah, it doesn’t sound well,” she agreed. “Good luck with solving this conflict.”

“That’s gonna be tough,” he laughed, getting up from the lounger. “Once I’m back, I’m gonna get you into the pool.”

“Hmm, good luck with that, too.” 

“It doesn’t seem like a challenge,” he returned, directing his steps towards the mansion. 

Phoebe was waiting for him, listening to the way he was trying to solve the crisis between two of his kids when she remembered how it was to argue with her brother back in the days. It was the time when everything was different. She had a family. She had her father and mother and now she felt like an orphan, who she, in fact, was. No parents or home she could always return to.

However, there was Michael and for the first time since she met him, it crossed her mind that they could have a future together. That it was not just a fling and he meant every word he had said to her about the feelings he had. That their story, among many others, could actually have a happy ending. 

She was lost in thought as he returned to her and pressed his lips against hers in a quick kiss. He leaned down to lift her up from the lounger, meeting resistance from her at first, but she quickly gave up. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around his hips for steadiness and let him carry her to the pool as he had said he would have.


The rest of the day was peaceful. After solving the crisis between his kids, Michael could focus back on Phoebe and spent the whole afternoon not stepping away from her. They had some fun in the pool, ate dinner together and once their bellies were full, Michael pulled her on the couch with him to watch a movie he had picked. 

She did not oppose, because more than actually watching a movie, she liked the way he wrapped his arm around her and caressed her left thigh the whole time. Her head was resting on his shoulder and she did not need more than the awareness he was there, right next to her. 

“I think I’m gonna get going,” Phoebe said when the closing credits appeared on the screen. “I’ve got some things to take care of and you look as if you need a nap.” 

“Can’t you take a nap with me?” he returned when she gently brushed his arm off her.

“Not this time,” she kissed the tip of his nose and a few seconds later, she was up, tucking her white t-shirt into her jean skirt. “Do you want me to cover you with a blanket?”

“There’s no need. I’m gonna drive you home,” Michael offered, but could not help a yawn. 

“Seriously, get some sleep. You know you want it,” she sent him a meaningful look, reaching down and zipping her bag that was placed by the couch. “It’s not far and I’m in a mood for a walk.” 

“If you don’t want me to drive you home then take my car.” Michael did not want to let go. “I mean it.”

“Michael, it’s like... 6pm. It’s still bright outside and I’m a big girl. You don’t have to worry about me whenever I’m going for a walk without you, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed eventually, but he certainly was not happy about it. “Just call me when you’re home.”

“I’ll send you a text so I won’t wake you from your nap,” she returned and leaned for a kiss. “Love you, mister grumpy face,” she added, grabbing her bag from the ground and slowly heading towards the door. 

“Grumpy face? What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You do this funny face when things don’t go your way.” She mimicked his facial expression the best way she could and received an objection from him. 

“I don’t look like this.” 

“So you say.”

Phoebe had wished him a good nap before she left the mansion, a bag on her shoulder and she searched for her earphones in one of the pockets. She put one into her ear as she walked down the street and played some music. 

She quickly got lost in thought again, because she knew this route from Michael’s house to her place well. It took her about twenty minutes of an energetic walk to reach the area where she lived, a twenty minutes of thinking about this new reality she found herself in. 

Would it always look like this? Would they continue hanging out together, acting as if nothing else mattered except them? Would this could nine last forever? 

She knew well it would not. At some point, Michael would no longer be able to spend all days with her due to work and she would start a new chapter in her life, a chapter about which Michael had no clue about yet. 

She had not told him about her idea, the one about coming back to med school. Part of her wanted to do that, wanted to share her enthusiasm with him, but the other part was scared it would complicate things between them. Coming back to med school would mean less time for him for a while and it seemed as if Michael wanted to have her all for himself and would not settle for a part-time.

She did not mind that and would lie if she said that she did not want to have him all for herself, but she was too smart to believe they would live their whole lives basing only on their feelings. 

She wanted him, but she did not want to lose herself, either. She was over the heels in love with him, but her life did not end the day she met him. On the contrary, it began again, so she wanted to get the most of it. 

“Shit,” Phoebe murmured when her hand wandered down to the back pocket of her skirt and did not find the keys to her apartment in it. They must have slipped out of it when she sat on Michael’s couch or at least, that was her first guess. 

She sighed and turned back, cursing under her breath and hoping she had not lost them somewhere on the way. 

“Hey, Michael,” she said breathlessly as she entered the mansion almost half of an hour later. “Please, tell me you somehow found my keys...” 

Her voice went from loud to quiet in a flash when she saw Amanda casually walking out of the kitchen, dressed in a red silk negligee. All she did when she saw Phoebe was smile, cocky and proud, leaving her alone with the assumptions about what she was doing in the mansion dressed like this. 

“Where’s Michael?” Phoebe uttered, her mind filling up with all possible scenarios of what could have happened.

“I suggest checking our bedroom,” Amanda replied, but when she noticed Phoebe got pale, she added: “I’m just joking, sweetie. Or am I not?”

“I’m not in a mood for joking.”

“Hey, Phoebe,” Michael appeared in a hallway, clearly confused by seeing her back. “What's going on here?”

“I guess I’ll leave you to it,” Amanda stated, knowing the situation was already bad for Michael and walked upstairs, winking at Phoebe as she passed by her. “Bye.”

If it was not for the fact Michael was fully clothed, Phoebe would slap him the second he approached her, the guilt written all over his face as he knew well how ambiguous this could seem. “What’s she doing here?” she snapped at him, not even trying to hold back her anger. “What’s she doing here dressed like this?”

“I know it doesn’t look good, but I swear it’s not what it looks like.”

“Then what is it?” Phoebe folded her arms, taking a step back. 

“Amanda didn’t want to stay in the hotel all the time, so Tracey convinced me to let her stay here sometimes. When she’s here we barely talk. She’s upstairs while I stay down and sleep on the couch. Phoebe, please...”

“Do you think an excuse for everything? How fucking convenient, having your wife around when I’m not,” she fired back, not understanding Michael’s logic at all. “You’re unbelievable. You know she’s doing it on purpose, right? Walking around the house dressed like this and teasing you? Testing how faithful you’re to me?”

“She could be walking around naked and I wouldn’t give a damn!” Michael raised his voice, trying to sound more convincing, but Phoebe did not believe him. She shook her head as walked past him, searching for her keys in the living room and finding them, as she supposed, on the couch. “Phoebe, please, say something...”

“What do you want me to say? I... I don’t know what to say! How should I feel knowing your wife is here when I’m not here with you? Didn’t it cross your mind to tell me about that?” She looked down, biting her bottom lip. “Whenever I think we’re good, you come up with another revelation!”

“Baby, please... I know it’s... It’s uncomfortable for you, but her presence doesn’t mean a thing. Tracey wanted her mother to be with her from time to time…”

“No offence, but she can as well visit her in the hotel,” Phoebe interjected, raising her sight and setting her eyes back on Michael. “I want her gone. Now.”

“Phoebe...”

“I want her out of this goddamn house!” she snapped again, letting the emotions took control over what she was saying. “You can’t have us both, Michael! It’s her or me, not her and me. I’m sorry, but I won’t fucking share you with anyone!”

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit?” he asked one of the worst questions he possibly could. “I’m trying to explain to you that she doesn’t mean a thing for me. You’re the only woman...”

“She doesn’t mean a thing for you? A woman you spent over twenty years with doesn’t mean a thing for you?” Phoebe looked at him with disbelief. “Fine. Ask her to leave then.”

“I won’t do that. My daughter’s upstairs, so is my son and you want me to kick their mother out of their house? Seriously, you’re making a bigger deal out of it than it really is,” Michael went on, not knowing that with every word, he was making his situation worse. “Is your period around the corner that you’re acting like this and making a scene about nothing?”

Phoebe puffed because that was the only thing she was able to do. Michael’s words, spoken in anger, were so offensive to her, she did not know how to react. What she knew was that she had to leave. She had to leave before she would say something she would quickly regret. 

“Make your damn mind, Michael,” she stated when she somehow managed to gather the words into sentences, “because I don’t want to be your second option and I don’t have to tolerate your reckless actions.”

“You’re not a second option, Phoebe. Wait… I’ll drive you home so we can talk…” He felt he crossed the line, but there was nothing he could do about it now. 

“Thanks, but I don’t want to talk and I’m gonna call a cab,” she threw and the sound of shutting doors followed her voice.


Time seemed to slow down as Phoebe was sitting on the toilet, counting days from her last period for the fifth time in a row and peeking at the pregnancy test she had placed on the edge of the sink.

She knew Michael was not thinking what he was saying, blinded by the anger and irritation caused by her behaviour, but the last question he asked made her think about something that had completely slipped out of her mind.

She counted the days for the sixth time and the result was still the same: almost two weeks late. 

It could be because she had been under so much stress lately and it could cause her period to be late. Maybe it was also because she had been sick. There was a chance an illness affected her period in some way, but she was not this naive to believe period being almost two weeks late could mean anything but a pregnancy, especially when she realized she had missed two birth control pills then had one unprotected sex with Michael, completely forgetting about it. 

There was also her favourite wine, which did not taste like it used to and an aversion to alcohol in general. 

Her trembling hands carefully took the test and moved it in front of her, so she could have a look at the result. As it turned out, forcing herself to do that was not as easy as she had thought it would be. On the contrary, she doubted if she had ever been this scared before.

She blinked a few times, turned it around, shook it, not knowing what else to do with it, but no matter what she was doing, it was still showing the same two parallel lines. 

The result? Definitely positive.

Notes:

I hope the title of this chapter wasn't too suggestive, but if anyone guessed what it's referring to before reading - 👏🏻.

As always, thank you so much for reading! I appreciate it SO much! If you feel like it, please share your thoughts with me - I would really like to know what you guys think about this story! Let me know! 🤗

Chapter 26: I Am Scared

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Bitter, ugly tears. 

The thought it was all her fault was overwhelming for Phoebe. She wished she could forget about it, throw away the pregnancy test and deny all of it, but it was not an option. She should have been more careful and think about the consequences of her reckless action first. Now that it was done, there was nothing else to do than to accept it. 

How could she accept the fact she had messed up not only her life but also Michael’s? If this test was not somehow broken and it was showing the truth... She did not even want to think about it at that moment. All her plans could be ruined and her life would get turned upside down again. 

After over an hour, she did another test, which the result was the same as the first one. No doubt, it was correct. 

Instinctively, she looked at her belly, still flat and slim, and the tears fell on the fabric on her white tank top. Was she really supposed to become a mother in a few months? It was so surreal. She, who never thought of becoming a mother and did not even know if she ever wanted to become one, had the faith to decide about it for her. Her hand moved onto her belly, rubbing it with great care. 

“Hey, bean,” Phoebe had whispered right before she burst into tears again. She should have been thrilled or at least, she thought so. So many women were dreaming of seeing magical two lines on their pregnancy tests and she was lucky enough to see them herself.

Some could even say she was blessed, but she was not sure about it at that moment. She was not sure about anything, her body trembling from emotions that had to run out of her somehow. 

Wiping her eyes, she stood up from the toilet and washed her face with cold water, hoping it would help erase the puffiness from around her eyes a bit. She was about to walk to her bedroom, tuck herself in the quilt and get some sleep somehow when the sound of knocking reached her ears and the very familiar voice followed. 

“Open up, Phoebe!” It was muted, but it unquestionably belonged to Michael. “Baby, please...” he added when he did not receive an immediate reply. 

She slowly approached the doors, taking each step carefully as if there was some burglar on the other side of it. “No. Go away, Michael,” she said loudly, hoping he would not notice her voice was shaking. 

“Please, let me in,” he repeated his request. “I won’t go away. I’ll sleep on your doorstep if I have to.” 

“In that case, have a good night,” she told him and walked away from the doors when she heard something moving in the lock. “You’re a perfect burglar material, indeed,” she stated as Michael opened the doors then closed them behind his back. 

“You gave me the spare key, remember?” He lifted his right hand with a silver key in it. “I don’t need to use my skills when I have this.”

“Whatever,” Phoebe responded, turning her head to the side, trying to hide the fact she had been crying from him. “Listen, I’m not really in the mood for talking...”

“You been crying?” Michael asked, but it sounded more like a statement than a question. “Hey... Is this because of the situation with Amanda? I didn’t want to say all these words...”

“But you did, Michael,” she returned. “Is that how you show love? Bringing your ex-wife back home? Oh well, she’s technically still your wife. You can still change your mind and go back to her as if nothing happened!”

“Woah, do you really think of me this way?” He frowned and his face got concerned. “Do you really think I’m this kind of a man?”

“I think you clearly don’t know what you want. It’s like you want to eat a cookie and still have one.”

“That’s not true.”

“Give me a reason why you let her stay then. It’s not that you don’t have enough money so she couldn’t stay at the hotel, right? I also don’t think your kids need to see their  momma  dressed like an expensive whore when she visits them.” 

“Don’t be mean, Phoebe.” 

“I’m not mean,” she fired back. “She’s crossing the line and I won’t be standing here and watching as she gets into your bed again...” Phoebe was saying, but before she could finish, Michael approached her and pressed his lips against hers, tired of listening to her. 

She was trying to pull away, to show some resistance, but his hands held her waist in place, not letting her move away from him for an inch. There was no point in fighting it, especially since a part of her wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel safe and secure in his arms and to tell him everything she was hiding from him at that moment. His tongue was brushing hers the way she favoured as Michael knew exactly how to kiss her to get a quiet and shy oh from her once he slowly pulled away, teasingly biting her bottom lip. 

“She won’t get into my bed,” he whispered as if he was telling her a secret even though there was no one else except them in Phoebe’s flat. “She’s my past. You’re my present and hopefully, the future.”

“Hopefully?”

“I don’t know if you won’t change the locks and the next time I come to visit you, the doors won’t be permanently locked.”

“You’re a skilled burglar. There are no doors you can’t open.” 

“But I don’t want to open the doors to the place where I’m not welcome by you.”

She gazed at him, her eyes gleaming like diamonds in the warm light of a lightbulb, but just as she opened up her mouth to reply, tears ran down her reddish cheeks. 

For a second, Phoebe wanted to tell him everything; she wanted to tell him about the pregnancy, but she was scared he would run away. Scared that soon there will be nothing left but a memory of the touch of his hands on her, his lips on hers and this warmth of his body whenever he was close to her. 

She hid her face in his chest and sobbed, trembling as she could barely breathe. Then, she felt his fingertips on her temples as he cupped her face as he moved back a bit. His thumbs wiped away the tears from her cheeks as he said: “Please, don’t cry.” 

“I’m... I’m scared, Michael,” she uttered as tears continued falling uncontrollably. “I’m scared that one day you’ll disappear from my life as quick as you appeared in it.”

He did not reply, because his head seemed to be empty at that moment. He wanted to dry all her tears and promise her something like this would never happen, but he was afraid of making such promises. All his life always and forever had seemed too idealistic and surreal to him, even if a part of him wanted to believe something like this existed. 

“Don’t be scared, baby,” he said quietly, but too loud to be whispering. “I’m here,” he added and instead of making promises, he decided to tell her something he was pretty sure of, “and I love you.”

She kissed him gently then as she took his hand, she led him to the bedroom, turning off the lights and leaving only her bedside lamp on. She let him undress her and she undressed him, so they both were just in their underwear as Michael placed her on the bed and intuitively hovered over her, her hand moving down as it always did, but this time, her hand stopped his. “Not tonight, okay?” she asked feebly. 

“Okay,” Michael replied, withdrawing his hand obediently. “Whatever you want,” he said as he laid down next to her, pulling out the quilt from below and covering them with it. She turned to the side and he did the same, wrapping his arm around her then pulling her close to him. 

“Thank you,” she told him. “I guess I’m just tired. Not in a mood at all,” she explained, more for herself than for him, because he did not require that from her. 

“I noticed. I simply wanted to cheer you up a bit and clear the atmosphere, but if you don’t want it, that’s okay. I just want to be with you.” He placed his head next to her neck, so she could feel his breath on her skin. “Not with anyone else.”

They were lying for a while in complete silence and when Phoebe started to slowly drift away, she felt Michael’s hand gently rubbing her belly. There was no chance he knew or did it on purpose, but a shiver came through her body and she shuddered, somehow feeling odd with the way it felt on her skin. “You cold?” he asked, concerned she was not feeling well. 

“No,” she whispered, hoping her voice would not crack. “It’s nothing. Just a shiver.”

His hand continued moving on her belly, his fingertips brushing her skin, barely touching it. “I like how sensitive to touch you are.”

“Your touch,” she specified after a while as she got used to the presence of his hand down there. “It’s never been quite like it with anyone else as it is with you. I mean it... I was in a few relationships in my life, but I never felt as good around someone as I feel when I’m with you.”

“In that case, I guess you’re more experienced when it comes to relationships than me,” he returned. “My only serious relationship was my marriage and when you look at it, it’s obvious I haven’t been a model husband, because... I don’t know. Amanda never seemed to fully get me and we both wanted different things...”

“If she told you she wants you back, would you go back to her and could act normally after... You know, knowing she was not a saint?” Phoebe asked, not really knowing why. She was simply curious.

“No. Not this time,” he replied shortly. “I was always willing to forgive her everything she did and I held no grudge against her, knowing we all get lost sometimes and do stupid things. I wasn’t a faithful husband, either, but even if I were... If she just regretted what she did, I think I would forgive her.”

“I guess there’s no person who doesn’t regret a thing or two in their life...”

“That’s what I’m saying,” he confirmed then continued: “We tried countless times and failed. Now I want to move on with my life. I want to be with you. So no, if she wanted me back I wouldn’t come back to her, but not because of what she did, but because you have my heart now.”

“I have your heart, but she gets to do whatever she wants?” She did not plan on asking him that, but somehow, it slipped out of her mouth. 

“Of course not, but I can’t banish her from the mansion forever. As long as Tracey and Jimmy live there, she can come and see them. Kids always complicate things, you know? I love them with all my heart, but it would’ve been much easier if Amanda and I didn’t have kids,” Michael said, his voice remaining neutral, “but we do and we have to figure it out somehow, the same way we did when she told me she was pregnant.” 

Phoebe swallowed loudly, conclusions already forming in her head as he spoke. How was she supposed to tell him about it now, knowing his view on it? It would definitely complicate more than one thing if she told him. If he accepted it, it could be because he felt obliged to do so. If he did not, he could be gone in a blink of an eye. 

There was no right way out of it and she felt more and more insecure about this whole thing with every passing moment.

On the one hand, he deserved to know. It was his right to know she was pregnant with his baby. 

On the other hand, she could not lose him. Not because of that. Not because she had been reckless enough to forget about pills then ensured him it was okay to do it without protection. She did not want him to think she was another woman trying to make him stick around because of the baby. Wasn’t that similar to what Amanda did? She told him she was pregnant and he took the responsibility as any decent man would have. 

“When she told you about her pregnancy... Were you happy?” she asked quietly, almost whispering. 

“I was in my mid-twenties, so I was more like... Scared. I wasn’t ready to be a dad, but I was aware it could possibly happen,” Michael replied after a moment, sounding as if Phoebe accidentally woke him up. “Amanda was scared, too. We were both young. We had no money, no place to live... It was hard and I wasn’t pleased at first. I wasn’t happy until I held my daughter in my arms.”

Phoebe smiled lightly, comforted by his words, but not enough to tell him the truth. She turned around and nestled up against him, deciding to wait a few days to get used to this thought herself and to figure out how to do tell him about it. 

Little did she knew the longer she waited, the harder it would get.


Phoebe was doing her best to avoid Michael, feeling guilty each time he was around without knowing the truth about what was going on with her. She could not find the way to tell him, because no way felt right, especially after she had gone to the doctor on her own, just to make sure this pregnancy was not her imagination. Soon, it was clear that she was five weeks pregnant and scared as hell. 

However, when she saw this little bean as the doctor pointed it on the screen of the ultrasound machine, she felt a sting in her heart. The thought of becoming a mother was more real than ever and among fear, she was moved. In more or less 8 months she was about to give birth to a little girl or boy; her daughter or son. 

Phoebe wished Michael was there with her, but it was her choice to go there alone. 

The doctor handed her the copy of a sonogram and at that moment, she knew she had no other option but to tell him, but she still had to figure out  how  was she going to it and  when .


I’m gonna pick you up at 7.

Phoebe had read a message from Michael five minutes before he was supposed to arrive. She felt a gulp in her throat and her heart was pounding as she fixed her hair in front of the mirror and smoothed her white, tight dress with bare arms. 

He wanted to take her out and she found it a perfect opportunity to tell him. The last few days she was doing her best at avoiding Michael, thinking what her options were, but the only one were the right one. If she demanded the truth from Michael, she could not be afraid of it herself. 

She left her flat, walked down the stairs in her black high heels and there he was, dressed as usual in a navy blue suit, an impeccably white shirt and a tie that matched his whole outfit. 

Of course, he took her to one of the fanciest restaurants in the city, but she was too nervous to pay much attention to it. All she could think of was the sonogram picture locked in her purse. It was like she was doing all the things automatically while her thoughts were far away from the place she was in. 

“What’s on your mind, baby?” 

“Hmm?” she hummed, dragged out of thought by Michael’s voice. He was sitting in front of her by the table, his eyes focused on her and it was obvious he knew something was wrong. “I was thinking how lucky I am to be here with you. This restaurant is so fancy, I don’t know if I ever ate food this expensive.” 

“Was this really what you were thinking about?” 

“No,” she admitted, knowing there was no point in lying to him. “I... I have something to tell you, but I don’t know how to do that.”

“Well... Just say it," Michael replied then smiled at her encouragingly. “I’m not blind, Phoebe. I see when something is off.”

She sighed.

There were many people in this fancy decorated room, waitresses wandering between the tables dressed elegantly as the rest of the quests. No one was paying attention to them, but Phoebe could not shake off the feeling that she was observed. 

Her right hand reached to the purse that was placed next to her on the table and her fingertips brushed the small, square envelope. 

She was not ready, but it was now or never.

“I have something for you...” Phoebe pulled the envelope out of the purse and placed it on the table. Then, she moved it towards Michael, watching him watching her hand and the envelope under it with great interest. 

“What’s that?” he asked, looking up at her. 

“It’s...” Phoebe wanted to spill these words out of her, to tell him she was carrying his baby, but just as she started speaking, the waitress approached their table. 

There would be nothing unusual about it if it was not a young, attractive woman with blonde hair, dressed in an elegant uniform, short black skirt and white shirt. She placed their beverages on the table while Michael’s sight wandered to her, eyeing her from the bottom to the top. It was something out of his control, a part of his predator nature - he noticed an attractive woman, so he looked. There was no deeper meaning hidden behind his glance, not when Phoebe was sitting in front of him, but she did not know that. She was now watching him watching this good-looking waitress and misinterpreting this whole situation. 

“Excuse me,” she said hastily, grabbing the envelope from the table and leaving before he could stop her. 

She hurried inside the restroom and put the envelope back inside her purse, cursing at herself for being this naive. 

The moment she saw Michael looking at this waitress the way he did, she understood that he could have any woman or at least, that was what she thought. He was handsome, rich, mature, so he attracted other women without much effort. In that case, why would he pick a pregnant woman when he could have any other and avoid having the problem?

Phoebe knew she should not have thought this way. It was as her baby as it was his, so the responsibility was on them both, but at the same time, she knew how things could go from there. She was younger than him, but she was not stupid. 

Oh, how much she did not want him to leave her.

After spending another fifteen minutes in the restroom during which she fixed her bit smudged makeup and did her best to hide the fact she had been crying, she returned to the table, where the food was already waiting for her. 

“I was getting worried about you,” Michael said when she sat down on the chair. “I ordered us pastas. Figured you might like it.”

“It looks delicious,” Phoebe replied, glancing at the plate. She reached for the cutlery and was about to take the first bite when he asked:

“So, what was in that envelope?”

She had glanced at him before her eyes returned back down, praying her voice would not crack the second she would open her mouth to reply. 

“Nothing. Just forget about it.”

Notes:

I'm extremely curious what you think of this chapter! I wasn't sure, but decided to dwell on Phoebe's feelings about the situation she was in... Hope it turned out okay. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💝

Chapter 27: Your Friend Knows Best

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Phoebe could not get around to tell Michael about the pregnancy for the next two weeks. She hoped that once she would get used to the thought of being pregnant herself, it would also get easier to tell him about it, but of course, it did not. She should have known it would not get easier and told him right after she had found out about it, sparing herself the inevitable remorse caused by hiding the truth from him. 

Who would have thought these three words:  I am pregnant  and then possibly adding  it’s your baby  would be so hard to spit out? 

She knew there was no need for her to underline that Michael was the father of her baby. She had no doubts and hoped he would not have any, either. He was the only man she had been with since she met him, not mentioning no one else had crossed her mind, but him. 

She wanted Michael. She needed Michael. She loved Michael and god be her witness, she wanted to tell him that he was about to become a father, but she could not force herself to do so. Not when it could ruin everything between them and make him not look at her the way he did ever again. Not when the price she could possibly pay was losing him. Not when she had no clue how he would react once he finds out the truth. 

Michael, on the other hand, did not know what was going on with Phoebe. Slowly, he was getting sick of hearing she was tired or had a headache every time he wanted to touch her anywhere below the waist, but somehow she could not force herself to have sex with him as she knew she was lying him in the face. He did not deserve to be lied to, but her fear was bigger than what was left of her rational thinking. 

She knew she was not doing the right thing, but at this point, she did not really know what was right and what was wrong. All she knew was that she had to somehow give Michael what he wanted because the sad puppy face he was gifting her with every time she turned him down was heartbreaking and only increased all of her insecurities. 

After pulling herself together, which was a challenge, she decided to surprise him one evening just as they finished watching a movie together. Without explaining herself, she disappeared into the bathroom to change in the beautiful, silk nightdress she had bought herself the other day. It was not leaving much to the imagination as the dark red fabric was barely reaching one-third of her thighs, but she did not mind, knowing Michael would not complain, neither. 

She gazed at her reflection in the mirror to make sure she was looking good, but her sight wandered to her belly instead of the nightdress she had spent so much money on. It got rounder but still did not look as if she was pregnant just yet. It was more like bloated, so even if Michael noticed it somehow, she could still explain herself by saying she had eaten too much. 

She had brushed her dark hair, washed her face with cold as ice water and left the bathroom, directing her steps straight to the bedroom where Michael was already lying on the bed in his light blue boxer shorts. 

He had his eyes closed, but Phoebe was sure he was not asleep. Just as he felt her presence beside him, he instinctively moved closer, wrapping his right arm around her waist and feeling the touch of the silky material on his skin. 

She felt his warm breath on the back of her neck while his hand slid under the fabric of the nightdress, slowly uncovering her bottom. She did not stop his hand, not this time, letting it move further until it reached her breasts. He cupped the right one and rubbed the nipple teasingly with his thumb, enjoying the way it hardened under his touch. 

“I didn’t know that was part of a plan for tonight,” he whispered to her right ear after she had moaned softly, responding to his caressing touch towards her sore breasts. “I love you,” he added when she arched her back, instinctively pressing her ass against the growing bulge in his boxers. 

There was something addictive about Michael’s touch and Phoebe realised it the moment she discovered how much she had also missed it. She felt like an addict in the rehab, wanting to get a taste of her favourite drug who, in her case, happened to be him. 

She carefully turned towards him just to push him on the back and she climbed onto him to straddle his lap seconds later. “Well, it wasn’t the part of a plan. Not officially, at least. I love you, too,” she had told him before he sat up and pulled her into a kiss. 

He did not ask unnecessary questions, pressing his lips against hers and deepening the kiss when he felt she wanted it as much as he did. 

It was blissful to feel his lips on hers, on her neck, collarbones, cleavage, everywhere. To feel him close was making her feel secure, certain that he was only hers, not anyone else’s. It was odd as she had never thought of herself as possessive, but with him, she would not even try to deny it. She was possessive just like he was. 

Michael’s hands were travelling on her body, under the nightdress, exploring it inch by inch as it was the first time he ever touched her, not wanting to miss a piece. However, just as he touched her belly, a shiver came through her body, making her tremble in his embrace. “What’s wrong?” Michael asked, confused and concerned at the same time. She was still close to him, but her hands flew from his neck to her belly, trying to protect it from harm, even if she knew he meant none. 

“N-nothing,” she blurted, feeling a bit odd about the way she instinctively reacted. “Everything’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“It’s nothing,” she repeated, trying to sound firm while pulling herself together again and pushing every doubt she had aside. “It’s just... It’s been a while since we had a moment for ourselves,” she shifted, guiding Michael’s hand in between her thighs to cup her sex. “I might be a bit nervous.”

“You don’t have to be nervous with me,” he responded, a habitual smirk appearing on his face. He shifted, too, shoving down his boxers. His hand had stroked him a few times before Phoebe took the initiative. She held him in her hand, so hard and ready, and positioned him at her entrance. “That’s it, baby,” Michael hissed, taking a second to adjust to the way she tightened around his member once she sank down on it. 

Slowly and steady, she started moving up and down on him while his hands rested on her hips, helping her to set up a bit quicker pace. She wrapped her arms around his neck when their eyes met in a gaze, making this moment even more intimate. 

After a while of watching her bouncing on him, he moved his right hand from her hip to his mouth. Once he got some saliva on his right thumb, he directed it straight down to her now oversensitive bud, putting some pressure on it and massaging it in slow, full circles. “Relax, baby. I can feel you’re tense.”

Phoebe obeyed and soon, she felt her legs trembling under her weight as Michael stilled her movements and rubbed her most sensitive spot with great care. It took her a moment to relax, to give herself to him, but when she eventually did, the vision of the sweetest climax was closer than ever. 

Just as he felt her clench around him, almost there to reach her peak, he withdrew his thumb from her clit, causing a small whine to escape her mouth. So close yet so far, and Michael picked the best, and at the same time, the worst moment to stop. 

“I’m gonna keep doing so until you tell me what’s going on with you, Phoebe,” he told her, leaving a gentle kiss on her jaw. “I can see something’s wrong."

“So, was that a trap?” she asked, trying to put her thoughts together, but it was hard as all she could think of was how badly she wanted him to continue what he had started. 

“Think of it as some kind of encouragement,” Michael returned, letting out a chuckle when he saw her frustrated face. “You won’t shut me down with sex. I’m too old for that.”

“Talk to me, because I can assure you the second time will be even more disappointing than the first,” he added, starting to rub her clit over again, not to hurt her in any way, but to slowly build the whole tension over again and to show her he was not joking. 

He was unbelievable or at least that was what Phoebe thought, trying to focus on coming up with any decent answer. Anything to make him satisfied enough to not stop touching her before she got what she wanted so desperately. 

“Remember this woman… This waitress from the restaurant… I saw the way you looked at her back then,” Phoebe was trying to make coherent sentences while Michael slowly worked her up. “You were looking at her as if you wanted... You know.”

“All the fuss about some waitress? I don’t even remember how she looked like, baby,” he replied. “I’m all about you,” he told her when he felt her eyes were focused on him again. “Look at yourself. You’re a goddess,” Michael added and when he lowered his sight, he noticed her breasts were uncovered as the shoulders straps slid down her arms while she had bounced on him earlier, “and I’m all yours.” 

He was not holding her still or down anymore, so she started moving again, slowly building up another orgasm for them both. The heart was pounding in her chest, her breath becoming sharp and uneven when Michael’s lips moved down to her cleavage then breast. She moaned when he sucked her right nipple bit too hard, but he shushed her with another deep kiss. 

She was feeling too much at once. The physical pleasure that was almost overwhelming, so it had not been long, she squirmed on him, getting her sweet release and letting the world get blurred for a few seconds. Michael was the second to come and after a few, slightly painful for overly sensitive Phoebe, thrusts, he did come, spilling his seed inside of her. 

That was when she felt awful. 

In a blink of an eye, she reminded herself why she had been so hesitant when it came to having sex with him for the past weeks. All of a sudden, all she could feel was disgust with herself, and all the thoughts she had pushed aside returned with double force. 

She got off him, telling him she wanted to get herself clean as she usually did and rushed straight to the bathroom. She locked to doors and turned on the shower, hoping the sound of water would mute her sobs. 

It should not have felt this bad when it was also so good. It would not have been this way if she told him the truth. It was her fault. Everything was her damn fault, but she could not see the way out of a mess she found herself in. 

She returned to the bedroom after a few minutes and laid down beside him, smiling as if nothing had ever happened, but her heart was aching. She hugged him, resting her head on his chest and prayed it would somehow get easier for her because this spiral of lies had to end.


The next day was a special day for a very particular reason, which was Daniel’s birthday. He - just like his sister - did not like this day, treating it as any other, but this time it was different. The fact he was not celebrating his birthday did not seem to matter to Amy, who, as soon as she found out about it, decided to throw a little surprise party for him. 

She asked Phoebe for help, assuming no one else knew Daniel as well as she did, then decorated her whole apartment in balloons and a big, bright blue sign on which she wrote: “Happy Bday Dan!”.

“So, it’s official?” Phoebe asked, placing plates on the light wooden table as she had come earlier to help Amy with the preparations. “You and my brother?”

“I think so,” Amy replied, placing glasses next to the plates her friend had put down. “Last weeks have been... Wonderful,” she smiled uncontrollably, a blush appearing on her cheeks. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before.”

“I’m so glad, Aims. I was afraid he would do something utterly stupid or... You know, just hurt you,” Phoebe stated, looking at her friend with care, “but apparently, I was wrong.” 

“I would tell you if Daniel did something wrong, but he... He’s trying so hard to be a good boyfriend.” 

“Did you two...” 

“Oh no, I ain’t gonna talk with you about this,” Amy cut her friend off. “Unless you want to tell me about your sexual life with M,” she teased. 

“No need for cryptonyms, because no, I don’t want to tell you about it,” Phoebe returned, sending her a wink. “Good you and Daniel took it to another level, though...”

“I didn’t say we did...”

“You didn’t deny it, either,” Phoebe laughed as the embarrassed face Amy was adorable. “No hard feelings. Daniel’s an adult, you’re an adult. Do whatever you feel like, okay? I’m just teasing. Sorry for being this annoying future sister-in-law,” she added. 

“Well, there’s a long way to sister-in-law, but I appreciate it, Phoebe. I really do,” Amy responded, tucking the strand of blonde hair behind her left ear. “So, I think we have finished. There’s a place for everyone... Daniel, you, Michael, me, optionally Trevor with his plus one...”

“You invited Trevor?” 

“No. He found out because I told Cheetah and I guess she told him,” Amy rolled up her eyes. “I couldn’t say no, right? He’s... I don’t know, a friend of Dan. Can we just not talk about this? When is Michael planning to come over?”

“He texted me he’s gonna be here soon.” Just as Phoebe replied, someone knocked on the doors. “Speaking of the devil,” she added and hurried to open up the doors. 

She returned holding Michael’s hand in hers and a wide smile on her face, which made Amy smiled gently at the sight of them both. 

“I see you two have everything prepared already,” he stated, handing a small, grey gift box to Phoebe. “Collected it on my way as you asked.” 

“Thank you,” she responded, kissing him on the cheek. “I hope Daniel’s gonna like it.”

“No matter what’s inside, I’m pretty sure he will,” Amy stated. “I know you two had issues, but he talks about you nonstop. Phoebe this, Phoebe that...”

Phoebe shook her head, not really knowing what to say. She did not really have an opportunity to talk with Daniel about everything that had happened, but after her latest visit at home, their relationship improved on its own somehow. Maybe they both knew they had no one else except each other; in the end, they were family and whether they liked it or not, nothing could change that. 

“That sounds just like my brother,” she said eventually, putting the box down on the table. “I’m gonna go and light up the candles,” she added, hoping it would be enough to change the subject of their conversation. “We don’t have much time before Daniel comes here.”

In fact, Daniel appeared a few minutes later, clueless about what was waiting for him after stepping over Amy’s doorstep. After making a wish, blowing thirty-six candles on his birthday cake, hugging his sister, girlfriend and well, shaking hands with Michael, they all sat by the table. It was awkward at first, but Amy had seen it coming and prepared them drinks, which helped them loosen up a bit.

“You sure you don’t want a drink?” Amy asked Phoebe as she sat down beside her, in front of Michael and Daniel. 

“I’d like one, but I had a headache this morning and took some painkillers,” she replied, sending her friend a genuine smile, “and I’d rather not mix them with alcohol.”

“Oh, okay. I guess someone will have to drive Michael back home.”

“Hey, I haven’t drunk that much,” Michael returned, hearing her words despite talking with Daniel about something else. 

“Yet,” Amy managed to say when the front doors opened and Trevor walked inside the room, holding some blonde girl by the hand.

“Happy fucking birthday, Dan,” he exclaimed and approached Daniel to pat his back. “I guess I should apologise for being late, but we all know there’s no party without me,” he placed a bottle of whiskey in front of the birthday boy. “I’d get you something better, but I figured your girl would slap me if I did. Our angel Amy doesn’t like any nasty stuff and as long as she’s on the watch, we won’t play dirty.”

Amy ignored his remark and introduced Cheetah to Phoebe then poured the first one a drink. “I had a feeling Trevor would get you into this,” she stated, handing Cheetah a glass. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. He’s paying me for it,” Cheetah responded, smiling in a very fake way at both Amy and Phoebe. “You have a very lovely dress. Isn’t it too big for you, though?” She pointed her chin at Phoebe’s short, but loose, red dress with V-neck cleavage. 

“It’s oversize, so I guess it’s supposed to be loose,” Phoebe replied calmly while Cheetah fixed her blonde platinum hair that contrasted with her tan. 

“Doesn’t Michael like tight dresses?” Cheetah asked, completely unnecessary, without even thinking about what she was saying. “He always preferred girls who…”

“Who cares what Michael prefers, Cheetah,” Amy cut in, seeing Phoebe’s face getting confused. “Why won’t you get a taste of a drink I made for you? A piece of cake? Anything?”

Cheetah turned her head towards Amy and rolled up her eyes, but she did not continue. Instead, she took a sip of the drink and focused on fixing her very short white top and even shorter brown skirt. 

Phoebe pretended she did not care about what Cheetah had said about Michael, trying her best to smile and play it cool, even if her heart stung at the thought of Cheetah knowing what Michael  preferred . She was aware of his past, the way he had been living before, but still, she could not help a bit of jealousy. 

However, she was here for Daniel and it was his day, not hers. “Dan, have you already seen the gift from us?” she asked her brother from across the table. 

“Not yet,” he replied once he finished listening to Trevor saying something to him. “Do you want me to open it now?” 

Phoebe stood up to move the box from the corner of the table towards Daniel. He had taken it in his hands, watching it carefully before he opened it. “No fucking way,” was his first reaction. He pulled out a classic watch with a brown, leather strap and his eyes glistened at the sight of it. 

“I broke your watch years ago, remember? Saw this one and just couldn’t resist,” Phoebe responded, looking at her brother anxiously. “Do you like it?”

“Of course I remember. It looks exactly like my old one,” Daniel got up from the chair and walked around the table to give his sister a hug. “You needn’t have to, you know?” he whispered to her ear as he hugged her tightly. 

“Come on, it wasn’t just me. Michael helped,” she said once Daniel let go of her and pointed her head at Michael, who smiled at them both. “I won’t feel guilty for destroying your old watch anymore.”

“Thank you. Both of you,” Daniel told her, already putting the watch on his left wrist. 

“What did Amy get you, Dan?” Trevor spoke up, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “This watch’s gonna be hard to beat,” he teased, watching Amy’s reaction closely.

“He has to wait until very late hours to get it,” Amy told Trevor, not letting him intimidate her. Daniel smirked, proud she did not let Trevor get under her skin and from his sister, he walked to his girlfriend, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. 

“This whole evening is the best gift you could get me,” he said, making Amy blush a bit. 

Phoebe sat down and looked at this scene, at her brother and best friend being happy together and felt this warm feeling in her heart. She had been afraid Daniel would hurt Amy, that they were not good for each other, but it turned out to be the exact opposite. They seemed to be happy together and she could not want more than this.

She engaged herself in talking with Cheetah and Amy while Daniel returned to Trevor and Michael for another drink. The party kept going and it was safe to say everyone was having fun when out of a sudden, Phoebe felt nauseous and hot. She got up from the chair and without bothering anyone, she went outside to get some fresh air. 

The evening air was cooler and once she took a few deep breaths, she calmed down, the need of vomiting everything she had eaten that day seemed to be more bearable than it had been inside the stuffy room. 

“What’s wrong, Pheebs?” She heard the voice of Amy behind her and a second later, her friend stopped beside her next to the railing. 

“Nothing, I… I just need a moment.”

“Is something wrong between you and Michael?” Amy asked again, her intuition telling her Phoebe was hiding something from her. 

“No, why? Everything’s fine,” Phoebe responded, her tone firm as if she really believed in what she was saying. “I guess I just needed some fresh air. Don’t worry.”

“How can I not worry? You’re my friend, I see something’s wrong even if you claim there’s nothing wrong. Friends just… Feel things like this. One look at your face and I know that something is bothering you.”

Phoebe did not reply. Her sight was pointed in the direction of her apartment that was just across the street while she remained silent, not knowing what to tell Amy. 

She was really trying to make this evening pleasant to everyone involved, pushing her problems and how she felt aside again, but no matter how hard she tried, she could not shut down her mind. She was acting fine, but she was far from it. 

“Let’s go back, okay? I’m gonna make you a drink—” Amy suggested once she realised she would not make Phoebe talk, but instead, she got cut off by her. 

“I can’t have a drink,” Phoebe said, then took a deep breath, eventually daring herself to tell someone about her secret. “I’m pregnant.” 

“What?” Amy took a second to process what her friend had told her, her eyes widening in surprise. “Does Michael…”

“He doesn’t,” Phoebe replied, figuring out what she wanted to ask her. “I don’t know how to tell him, I… I’m scared to tell him.” She swallowed loudly, trying her best not to cry. 

“Oh, Phoebe... Hey, we’ll figure this out together, okay? Don’t cry, it’s alright,” Amy said, her voice calm and soft as she hugged Phoebe tightly. “Listen to me, it’s all okay. You’re scared and that’s okay, too, but you don’t have to be. You’ve got me,” she told Phoebe once she pulled away and looked at her comfortingly. “You’ve got Daniel and soon, the baby daddy.”

A smile appeared on Phoebe’s face and for the first time in days, she felt that she was not alone. Amy’s presence and her reaction when she found out about her friend’s pregnancy surprised Phoebe but in a very positive way. Amy was not judging her or blaming her for it. On the contrary, once she noticed Phoebe was smiling, she decided to express her joy. 

“I’m gonna be an aunt,” she squealed, but still tried to keep her voice quiet, “and Dan’s gonna be an uncle! Phoebe, this is such a piece of good news!”

“Amy… I don’t think there’s anything to be excited about…” She started when the sound of the creaking doors reached her ears. 

Both she and Amy turned towards the source of the sound just to see Trevor walking out of Amy’s apartment with a cigarette in between his lips. “Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said casually as he approached the railing. “Just wanted to have a smoke, but Daniel chased me outside. Douche.”

“Well, I surely don’t like when everything smells like an ashtray,” Amy returned. “Enjoy your cigarette. We were leaving, anyway.” She looked at Phoebe, who nodded in response. 

“I hope it’s not because of me.” 

“No, we just finished talking.” This time it was Phoebe who spoke up and a moment later, she disappeared inside. 

When they two returned to the table, Daniel was talking to Cheetah while Michael was scrolling his phone. He looked up at Phoebe when she sat down on the chair in front of him and smiled at her. “I was getting worried,” he said, putting his phone back in the pocket of his jacket. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Phoebe responded, returning the smile. “I needed some fresh air. It’s pretty stuffy in here.”

“I just opened the window,” Amy said, placing a glass of water in front of Phoebe. “It should get cooler soon.” 

In fact, it did get cooler. The party went on and Phoebe could finally breathe again, not only because the room filled up with the fresh air, but also because she was not carrying her burden on her own anymore. She started to loosen up a bit when Trevor returned to the table, a smirk on his face as he glanced at Phoebe. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He turned to Michael and nudged him with his elbow as he sat down beside him. His friend did not have the slightest idea about what Trevor was talking about, so he just looked at him questioningly. “I know we’re here for our Dan boy, but hey, the fact you’re gonna be a daddy again and he,” he pointed his thumb at Daniel, “is gonna be a fucking uncle is pretty exciting and worth sharing, don’t you think?”

Phoebe almost choked on the sip of water she had just taken while everyone else got quiet. Michael and Daniel had exchanged confused looks before they almost simultaneously asked: “What?”

“Whoops,” slipped out Trevor’s mouth. “You didn’t know, eh?”

It can’t be real. He didn’t say that. He didn’t say that not in front of everyone, not in front of…  Phoebe had felt her heart stops for a second before Michael turned his head towards her, looking at her with some sort of disapproval. “What is he talking about?” he asked with a dose of disbelief in his voice. 

She lowered her sight, setting it on her hands that she had squeezed tightly. “What is he talking about?” Michael repeated his question, this time in a more demanding way. “Phoebe?”

“I…” She could not find the words to say. Her mind seemed to go blank, nothing left except the desperate need of leaving Amy’s place and disappearing. Unfortunately for her, that was not an option as Michael, disturbed by Trevor’s words and Phoebe’s reaction, was not planning on letting it slip. 

“Answer me,” Michael’s voice was now commanding and his face turned from neutral to upset when she did not answer his previous questions. “Are you…”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted, feeling this whole situation could not get any worse than it already was. “Can we please talk about it in private…”

“Now you want to talk?” Michael asked after a while, standing up and hitting the top of the table with his right fist, making her shudder at the sound of jumping glasses. “Is it some kind of silly joke?"

“Michael, please…”

“Please what? Not only you didn’t tell me that you’re pregnant yourself, but I also had to find out about it from him! Apparently, he knew sooner than me and I’m the one directly involved!” Michael was not thinking clearly as he raised his voice at her. He had never done it before and he did not want that, but at this moment, guided by the mix of contradictory emotions, he could not care less. “How long have you known about it?”

Phoebe raised her sight from her hands and looked at him with her teary, dark eyes. “Michael, please…”

“Answer the damn question!” 

“More or less three weeks,” she replied obediently. “I wanted to tell you, but I… I didn’t know how and… Can we please not do this here?” Her eyes wandered to Daniel, who was looking at her with a shock written all over his face. 

“Un-fucking-believable,” Michael puffed. “Not that you didn’t have any other opportunity to tell me,” he added, shaking his head slowly. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Michael, wait—” Phoebe got up from the chair once he walked away from the table and wanted to chase him, but just as she reached the doors, they shut in front of her face. 

She could swear she felt nothing for a moment as if she was somewhat numb. No one else dared to say a word during this whole scene, either because they did not know what to say or they were processing the unexpected news Trevor had surprised them with. 

“That was a bit dramatic,” Trevor stated, breaking the deadly silence. “He had to find one way or another, Phoebe. I heard your conversation with angel A—”

“For god’s sake, shut the fuck up,” Daniel cut him off, standing up from his chair. “I know you’re an idiot, but what was that supposed to mean? You just outdid yourself in being a reckless prick!”

“Okay, that was also a bit dramatic, Daniel,” Trevor fired back. “The way I see it Michael needs to think his behaviour over and I’m gonna make sure he does it right.” He got up and approached Phoebe who was still standing by the doors, but now her eyes were all wet from tears that had fallen on her cheeks. “I actually did you a favour, you know?”

“Get out,” Phoebe hissed, not even bothering to look at him. “I don’t want to see you ever again. I… You always ruin everything, Trevor,” she told him, her voice embittered and sad, “and that’s not what doing favours is about.”

“You didn’t know how to tell him, right? Now he knows,” he responded. “If you excuse me, I have to go and to talk some sense to him now.” Trevor passed her by and left while Phoebe returned to the table where Amy, Cheetah and Daniel were still sitting by. 

“Well, I guess Trevor has to pay me some extra cash. That was a hell of a party, but like literally hell,” Cheetah stated and after finishing her drink with one sip, she left, too.

Notes:

It's been a while, but writing this chapter was... pretty hard. I'm still not completely sure about it, but I'm the closest to 'sure' than I've ever been, so... I think that's a good sign. (I truly hope it makes some sense for you, guys.)

I want to thank everyone for reading. It means so much to me! Thank you, thank you, thank you! 💞

PS I'm also so sorry for all the typos and mistakes (I didn't want to keep you waiting and just posted it, but there's a chance I missed something...)

Chapter 28: The Weird Sense Of Familiarity

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Michael’s first reaction after leaving Daniel’s birthday party was denial. 

She can’t be pregnant , kept ringing in his head as he got into his car and rode off. He was cruising down the streets without a purpose, gathering his thoughts and trying to put it all in place.  Pregnant? With me?  There was no other option.

He cursed under his breath, turning on the volume of the radio and letting the thoughts run through his mind. A bit tipsy, he should not have driven, but he had to get his mind off a thing he still could not believe in.

I’m gonna be a father. Again.

Michael did not expect that, especially not after Phoebe told him she was on a pill. He thought they could have sex without having to worry about the possible pregnancy... Despite any protection, it was still possible. Why was he surprised then? He should have known it could end up like this and as he thought of it he realised he was aware but did not think about that at all.

Maybe he should have. 

What if she was lying? What if Trevor was making fun out of him and Daniel? No, Trevor would not joke about it. Unless…  Unless he wanted to piss Michael off and ruin his relationship with Phoebe, but then, she was not even protesting… She confirmed what Trevor had said almost immediately, not even trying to say anything in her defence. 

His phone kept vibrating on the passenger seat as Phoebe had been calling him for the last thirty minutes, but he did not want to talk with her. She had various occasions to tell him about the pregnancy during the past three weeks, but she chose not to, just like he chose not to pick up the phone at that moment. 

What was she even wanted to tell me? What was there to explain?  Everything was crystal clear to Michael. She was pregnant, what else was there left to say?  Did she expect me to be thrilled? Not likely.

A part of him was scared.

Among anger and disappointment, there was also fear, which someone could say was irrational, considering he already had two kids. Being a father was nothing new to him, he had years of experience in being one, but… He never considered himself to be a good father. Not a role model one, that was certain, and even if he definitely was not the same person he had been over twenty years ago, his feelings about being a father remained unchanged. Why would this time be any different?  He remembered how scared he had been when Amanda told him about her pregnancy. Scared that he would not be a good father, feeling completely unprepared for this role and ironically, these feelings were still there, but the difference was that he had thought he would never feel them again.

There was also so much anger inside him. So much it could easily turn into fury, and the only way of preventing it was leaving Amy’s place at once. He clenched his hands on the driver’s wheel, focusing on the road while emotions were raging inside of him. He did not know what to do, how to escape the way he was feeling, so confused and disappointed while he should have been there with Phoebe… He should have been with her, but it was the last thing he wanted to do that night. 

He needed space. He needed a damn way out of this situation or at least, something to soothe his anger. To make him stop thinking about everything at once because he could have sworn his head was about to explode from this one piece of information that felt as if someone punched him in the face. 

Someone honked at him and a familiar red truck crossed his way, halting him at once. The tires screeched and Michael cursed loudly seeing Trevor getting out of his car and rushing towards him, his face foreshadowing nothing, but trouble.

“The hell is wrong with you?!” Michael yelled as soon as he got out of his tailgater. He was not expecting to see Trevor after he had left the party and the fact Trevor bothered to follow him was unexpected.

“The hell is wrong with you!” Trevor fired back, hurrying in his direction. “What was that supposed to mean, eh? How old are you, because you act like a fucking teenage boy!” 

“I think you’re the last person who can judge me, Trevor, because you’re no better than I am!” Michael returned when they both met in front of the hood of his car. 

“I didn’t leave my pregnant girlfriend after finding out she’s carrying my baby!” Trevor told him, poking Michael's left arm. 

“Because it never happened to you! You don’t know how you would’ve reacted if that happened to you!” The other man returned, brushing Trevor's hand off him.

“I would’ve pulled my shit together instead of running away! Come on, it’s your fault as it’s hers. I bet it was nice to fuck her, but now it’s time to be responsible for it!”

“Oh, come on! Why do you even bother, T? You came all that way to lecture me? You didn’t seem to care when you announced it to the world while Phoebe kept quiet about it for weeks—”

“And has it crossed why she didn’t tell you about it herself? That’s something worth a damn minute of thought!” Trevor pointed, his annoyance growing bigger with every excuse Michael was coming up with.

“Stay outta this,” Michael lowered his voice when someone drove past them. “It’s not your business and you’ve done enough… How did you even find me?”

“Lester tracked your phone, that’s how,” Trevor replied shortly. “Besides, I can smell a coward with a bruised ego from a mile.”

“I’m not a coward.”

“Aren’t you? Then why did you run away? Was the thought of becoming a dad that scary? Come on, it’s not that you don’t have experience with kids…”

“On the contrary, I do have experience, but as you probably know, I’m a pretty shitty father.”

“Oh, okay, that explains a lot…” Trevor stated, looking at Michael and tilting his head to the side. 

“Does it?” 

“Fuck no, Michael! It doesn’t explain a damn thing! You’re not in your twenties anymore! You were caught of fucking guard and I get that, but running away? How do you think she feels?”

“Please, don’t tell me you care about how Phoebe feels now,” Michael puffed, shaking his head slowly and trying to keep it cool, but the blood was boiling in his veins. 

“You should’ve seen her face after you’d left,” Trevor responded. “You’re a dick, Michael! A selfish dick while it’s also on you! If you kept it in your pants or at least, a condom—” He could not finish as Michael’s right fist met his left cheek in a punch. Trevor took a step back, the rage in his eyes grew quickly and he had no qualms about punching his friend back. 

It was a ridiculous scene, two men fighting in the middle of the street, both of them too proud to let go. Trevor was a bit stronger, though, or more determined to win and after more or less a minute of a pointless struggle, he held Michael down against the hood of his car. “Truth hurts, doesn’t it? I have to admit I don’t really care how she feels, but I have this tiny bit of decency in myself that prevents me from acting like a dick towards the pregnant woman. Your pregnant woman!” Trevor yelled, but at the same time, he let go of his friend and watched him collapsing on the ground.

“I can’t believe you said it. You, the man, who’s not really familiar with any virtue, want to teach me how I should behave?” Michael scoffed, standing up and wiping the little blood from under his nose. “As I said, just stay out of this, Trevor. I don’t need your expertise nor you to lecture me. It’s not your problem. Never was.”

Trevor looked at his friend, a bit offended after hearing such words from him. He gathered his thoughts just so he could tell him what he was really thinking. “You don’t deserve Phoebe. She’s too good for you and you don’t deserve all the luck you have in your miserable life.” He turned around and left right after saying these words to Michael. A moment later, there was no sign of the red truck on an almost empty street and Michael was on his own again. Soon, he returned to his car, but instead of driving away, he parked it nearby. 

The night was still young and the thoughts still loud, so he had to numb them the only way he knew that would work.

Temporary, but still, it was some solution.


Daniel was cleaning the mess after the party while Amy walked Phoebe back to her apartment as she wanted to be alone. It was not the best solution, but Phoebe did not want to stay with her and Daniel. 

“I’m tired, Amy. I just want to go to bed,” she had stated before she disappeared behind the doors of her flat, but both she and Amy knew Phoebe would not be resting. Instead, she would probably keep calling Michael, who had made it clear that he was not in a mood for any conversation with her.

However, Amy respected her friend’s wish and left her alone. She returned to Daniel, who was almost done cleaning her place and once they finished doing dishes together, they ended up on Amy’s couch. 

“What a night,” Amy yawned, resting her head on Daniel’s shoulder. “I hope Phoebe’s... Relatively okay. I would check on her, but I don’t want to be overprotective and to overwhelm her…”

“I think she needs a moment for herself. We all need a moment to process it,” Daniel replied, caressing his girlfriend’s head. “I still don’t know what to think about it. I was aware that one day it could happen and she could be pregnant, but… I wasn’t expecting this.” 

“This?” Amy looked up at him. “You mean Michael being a baby daddy?” she asked and he nodded in response. “Oh, come on. Phoebe’s head over heels in love with him and things like this... Happen."

“What if it happened to us?” Daniel asked. “I mean… I don’t think I would be a good father.”

“If that happened to us, we… We would figure this out. There are much worse things than pregnancy, Dan,” she replied, her sight returning to the previous spot she had been looking at. “I think you would be a good dad. You’re caring. Loving. You make mistakes, but you try to fix them and you’re not afraid to admit you did something wrong.”

“I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m talking about you. For me… You’re a good man. A bit lost, but still, good,” she said, hugging him tightly. “My good man.”

“Thank you,” he returned. “Thank you for appearing in my life, Amy. This birthday party? I’ve never had one like this.”

“No one has ever announced their pregnancy at your birthday? You didn’t know what a good party is until today, I guess,” Amy chuckled, moving away from him to get up from the couch. “You still have to get a birthday gift from me. It’s waiting for you in the bedroom,” she winked at him then gracefully walked to the other room. “So am I.” 

Daniel smirked. “As tempting as it is, can I get my gift in the morning? You know, after everything that happened today…”

“I wasn’t talking about sex,” she replied. “I actually got you a gift.”

“Oh, okay,” he said, feeling a bit stupid for making such a wrong assumption. 

Once he got up from the couch, he joined her in the bedroom where another gift box was waiting for him on his side of the bed. “That’s for me?” he asked rhetorically as he picked the box from the bed. When he opened it, he saw a thin, brown leather bracelet with a small silver piece inside and that was something he did not expect to see there. 

“I thought… I didn’t know Phoebe would get you a watch,” she explained, watching his reaction carefully. “There’s my name engraved on the inner side,” she added when she saw him examining the bracelet, “and your initials on the outer side.”

Daniel kept quiet as apparently, the silence was a common answer in Harris’s family, so Amy decided to continue her monologue: “I totally understand if you don’t want to wear it. I mean, you have a watch, you don’t need some bracelet…”

“I have two hands, Aims,” Dan spoke up, raising his sight from the bracelet. “It’s… It’s so great that I don’t even know what to say.”

“I know it’s not the same as Phoebe’s gift…”

“Stop comparing yourself to her, because there’s no comparison between you two. She’s my sister while you… I love you. You know I do.”

A gentle smile appeared on Amy’s face and she crawled to him to hug him from behind when he sat on the edge of the bed. “I know, but I'm also aware Phoebe is… Really important to you.” 

“Yeah, but she’s not you,” Daniel returned, holding out his right hand to her. “Mind helping me put it on?” he asked and a few seconds later, the bracelet was on his wrist. “I love it.” 

Amy could not resist when he turned his head towards her and kissed him first this time, feeling the roughness of his stubble when her hands wandered to his neck. She respected his boundaries, though, and did not push him to go further than a kiss, so after a while, she pulled away slowly. “One more time, happy birthday, Dan,” she whispered almost to his mouth. “I love you.”


Michael was hardly walking straight when he arrived at the mansion late-night, drunk as a skunk. He thanked himself for leaving the car somewhere, he could not remember where, but it did not seem to matter at that moment. 

He did not care. 

After a few hours of sitting at a random bar and drowning his sorrows, he honestly did not care about a damn thing. Everything that was troubling him seemed to become so distant. He almost stopped thinking about how pissed he was at Phoebe for not telling him about the pregnancy in the first place. How pissed he was at her for lying to him. For putting him into the position where he was supposed to take responsibility for his actions. For making him scared he would fail again as a father. 

Michael entered the mansion and directed his wobbly steps to the kitchen where he planned to get himself some water or another drink. He could not decide which one it would be, but just when he reached for the glass it slid off the countertop and smashed onto the floor, causing a noise to spread through the house. 

He cursed and instinctively crouched to pick up the broken pieces, but with his drunken moves, unstable and shaky, he ended up leaning against one of them, cutting the fingers of his left hand deep. “Fuck,” Michael hissed, not only because it hurt, but because the blood spilt on the floor and when he moved it, it also stained his shirt. 

“What is going on here?” He turned his head towards the annoyed voice of Amanda, who appeared in the kitchen a few seconds later. She looked at Michael with pity and when she noticed his hand was bleeding, she grabbed some paper towels and flew to him. “What happened to you?”

“I… Nothing,” he muttered, letting her wrap his hand gently in a paper towel. She helped him stand up and guided him back to the countertop where she could take a look at his cut fingers. “Go back to bed, Mandy,” he told her, seeing she was searching for the first aid kit. “I got—got this.” 

“Mhm,” she hummed, ignoring his words. She prepared everything she needed to clean the cuts then, using tweezers, she started pulling out the small pieces of glass from his wounds. “Keep your hand still,” she commanded. “I don’t want to hurt you more than it’s necessary,” she added and wanted to keep his attention away from the cuts, so she started asking him questions. “What happened? Where’s this new girl of yours?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know where she is,” Michael replied truthfully, not really controlling what he was saying to her. “Nothing happened… I… The glass fell down on the floor…”

“You smell like a buzz,” Amanda stated, pulling the last piece of glass from his fingers. “How much did you have?”

“I don’t know… A lot,” Michael returned, leaning against the countertop as if he was about to collapse. “Fuck, Mandy, it hurts—“ he hissed when she tried to clean his cuts by pouring on it some hydrogen peroxide. 

“I know, shush,” she said in a calm tone. “You’re gonna wake up the kids.”

“The kids?” 

“Yeah, our grown-up kids. I guess they both have fallen asleep already. It’s 3:30 in the morning, Michael,” she specified, putting on some clean gauzes in between his fingers and then, she delicately wrapped the four of his fingers with a bandage. “Try not to touch anything with that hand, okay? I’m gonna clean this mess,” she stated, quickly getting rid of everything that was already unnecessary from the countertop and putting it back in place. “You scared the shit out of me. I thought it was some burglar or…”

“Here I am,” Michael puffed then bowed gently. “Don’t you remember you married a burglar years ago?”

“Feels like a lifetime ago,” Amanda responded, her eyes looking down instinctively before she moved them back on him. “Move away from this glass, okay? Come, I’ll help you get to the couch.” She let him lean on her, the smell of buzz mixed with his cologne gave her goosebumps and all the memories came back to her at once. That was the smell of her husband, so familiar she could not mistake it with any other. However, she had decided not to get too sentimental before they reached the couch in the living room. Michael fell on the pillows, the weight of his body too heavy for him to fight it. 

“Well done." She sat down beside him, her hands reaching to the buttons of his shirt to unbutton two more. Then, she got rid of his jacket, completely forgetting how hard it was to undress someone drunk, but with a tiny help from Michael, she somehow managed to do that. “So, can you tell me what really happened to you?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t care,” Amanda denied instinctively. “I’m just wondering what could possibly happen that made you… Look like this. Oh, and I’m also wondering why this pretty doll you’ve been hanging out with isn't here with you."

“We had a fight earlier. I needed some space… I… I had to think about some things.” 

"Oh. I see," Amanda said, trying to show him that she understood what he was saying to her and using the opportunity he was listening to her, she added: “Listen, I know… Things have been damn horrible between us lately, but you can always count on me. I’ve been your wife for years, so I know you.”

Michael sat up slowly, so his head was at Amanda’s level. “Amanda…” He wanted to reply when out of a sudden, she pressed her lips against his. Drunk and tired, he instinctively parted his lips, unconsciously inviting her to deepen the kiss. She was kissing him tenderly, but he felt nothing except the familiar touch of the woman who had been his wife for years. She was not Phoebe whose touch was making him melt, but maybe, that was a good thing. Something purely physical seemed like a good distraction for his drunk self because he did not want to think anymore tonight.

Amanda pulled back after a while, watching Michael, whose eyes were focused on her. “Let’s go to bed, okay?” she suggested, getting up from the couch and holding her hand out to him. 

His guts were telling him it was not wise, but he decided not to dwell on it. He took his wife's hand in his and once he got up from the couch, he let her lead him upstairs. 

Notes:

I'm pretty sure even Michael knows he's not that saint after all... 😉

I hope you don't mind me posting this chapter this soon.

I also want to thank you very much for taking your time to read and comment! It means so much to me to know what you think and seeing you reading this story makes me burst with joy! 😊💝

EDIT: I'm sorry for that cliffhanger... 😬 I think I like leaving things ambiguously way too much... I truly hope I'll make it up to you in the next chapter. 👀

Chapter 29: I Am So Sorry

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Michael did not remember much from last night. 

Intoxicated by the unhealthy amount of alcohol he poured into himself after he had fought with Trevor, it was hard for him to recall what happened after. The rest of the night was blurred, and he was not sure of anything he had done within the last twelve hours.

After he had woken up in his bed, in his very own bedroom, he started to put all the memories together: going home drunk, shattered glass, bandage on his hand, but he could not find an element that could lead him here. He could not find it until he noticed his wife's nightgown on her side of the bed. 

It was as if the time slowed down for these few seconds, during which he was trying to find a possible explanation for what that meant, desperately trying to miss the obvious one.

He crawled out of bed, hoping the cold shower would help him solve the mystery of last night, but it did not. His head was still pounding as he got dressed in fresh clothes and checked his phone, discovering there were 28 unanswered calls from her.

Phoebe.

“I’m an idiot,” Michael murmured under his breath and tried to call her back, but she was not picking up. He did not even know what to tell her or what could possibly explain his behaviour from last night, but he needed to hear her voice. 

It crossed his mind to go to her place and see her immediately, but he figured he needed to sober up first. It would not be wise to go and see his pregnant girlfriend while he was still smelling like a distillery. Not to mention, he still had no idea what had actually happened after he returned home last night and what he could use as an excuse for his recklessness.

He wandered downstairs and saw the first person he saw was Amanda. She was already having her morning coffee, leaned against the kitchen island and looked like she was waiting for him to come to talk. “Look who’s up. Rough night?”

“Yeah,” Michael returned almost painfully, approaching her and putting his phone down on the countertop. He sighed heavily, rubbing his throbbing temples and putting all the elements together again. 

Shattered glass. Cut fingers. Amanda. Bandages. Bed.

He did not want to but had to ask her what had happened between them last night. “Did we…” He started, but he somehow could not force himself to say it out loud. 

“Have sex?” Amanda finished for him as if she was reading his mind. “Hmm... What do you think?”

“Honestly, I don’t remember,” Michael admitted and leaned against the countertop as the hopeless look appeared on his face. 

“We didn’t,” she told him, deciding she would not be cruel as the sight of her miserable husband was enough. “That was the plan, but you blacked out the second you laid down on the bed,” she added. "The only thing we did was kissing."

Michael’s eyes widened, mouth slightly parted as if he wanted to say something but did not really know what. He did not remember any kiss, and even if - it was a blurred memory. “We did? I... I was really drunk then because I can't even remember that."

“But it happened, Michael,” she countered. “Don't tell me you really are gonna act as if it didn’t. Not after last night... I patched your hand up, but I'm pretty sure you don't remember that, too?"

“Listen, Amanda, whatever we did, it didn’t matter anything. I… I made a mistake last night. A few mistakes, actually,” he returned, even if it was hard for him to admit. 

“So? I didn’t make any mistake, Michael. I kissed my husband. There’s nothing wrong with that,” Amanda stated, her tone bitter and accusing. “The only thing I did wrong was hoping it could actually mean something.”

“I'm sorry, but it didn't," Michael spoke up when, after a while, the silence between them became unbearable. "I love Phoebe, Amanda."

“You didn’t seem to care about it much last night.” 

“It was a very rough night.” 

Amanda shook her head slowly, her eyes glistening from the tears that came to her eyes once her husband stated he loved another woman. “Is some fling worth ruining our life together?” she asked when Michael turned his head away like a coward who did not dare to look at what he had done. “Damn it, Michael, answer me!”

“Our marriage has been ruined for years!” He looked back at her, anger visible all over his face. “How many times do you want me to tell you this? You keep talking about something that doesn’t exist anymore!”

“Doesn’t it?” Amanda scoffed. “You’re the father of our kids. We built everything we have together, and I know we’ve been through a lot, but… I love you, you idiot! I sometimes can’t look at you, but my feelings for you are still there.”

“But I don’t love you, Amanda. Not the way I used to love you for years,” Michael told her, forcing himself to look at her as he spoke. “I know it’s not something you wanted to hear, but I don’t want to lie to you about it anymore. Whatever happened between us last night… It didn’t matter a thing to me. It shouldn’t matter a thing to you, either.” 

Amanda was lacking words as her heart slowly fell into pieces. It was a silent fall, though. She did not scream, even if she wanted to. She did not yell at him as she always used to. She did not cry despite tears coming to her eyes.

“What does she have that make her so special?” she asked feebly. “You don’t love me, but you still crawl back to me when you’re feeling down. Funny, isn’t it? Isn’t she capable of taking care of your drunk ass? Why did you come back home? You could as well go to her and show how miserable you are…”

“She’s pregnant,” he blurted, knowing he would have to tell her about it sooner or later. “The last thing she needed was a drunk man by her side last night,” he added, making her feel as if she misheard something. “I came back here because it’s my house—”

“She’s what?” Amanda seemed not to care about anything else except that part. 

“It didn’t take you long to knock her up,” she stated when Michael did not react. “What should I say? Congratulations daddy-to-be? Boy or a girl? I have no idea, but I want to ask you something, and I want you to respond this time. How does it feel to ruin your own family?”

“Amanda, please…”

“Please what?” she snapped, slamming the cup of her coffee against the counter. “It makes much more sense since I know she’s pregnant. You’re staying with her for the baby, right? That’s all it takes to make you want to stay with her instead of me.”

“No,” Michael returned shortly, knowing there was much more to it than just a baby. “You and I… There’s no future for us, but… There’s a future for her and me.”

"Can you even hear yourself? You’re such a fool," Amanda shook her head, but her bottom lip was trembling as she was holding herself back from falling apart in front of him. "You still think you can have it all despite what you did? You know what? I’ll make sure she knows what the last night looked like. Maybe when she finds out about it, she’ll be less of a fool than I was.” 

“You won’t dare,” Michael hissed, hoping she was bluffing. "You won't get anything by threatening me!" he yelled, making her shudder at the sound of his angry voice.

“I'm not threatening you. I just want you to remember that the truth will always come out, and I may help it this time,” Amanda returned, trying to keep her voice firm. “What do I have to lose?" she questioned, and without waiting for his reply, she left the room because if she did not, she would have probably slapped him and had no regrets.


Michael used a few more hours to sober up and to pull himself together after a heated argument with his wife earlier in the morning. Amanda left the mansion right after they finished talking, so he had some time to about what had happened and what he could do about it. 

He could not take care of everything at once, so he concluded his priority was seeing Phoebe, pushing Amanda's problems aside. After buying a big bouquet of red roses, he drove to her place, hoping it would be enough to make her listen to what he wanted to say. 

He knocked on her doors and made this irresistible puppy face when she opened up and looked at him with no emotions. 

“Before you tell me to go to hell, I want to apologise for last night,” Michael hurried with what he had planned to say to her, fearing she might shut the doors in front of his face any second. “I was an idiot. I am an idiot, but I remember you wanted to talk…”

“Michael… What happened to your hand?” Phoebe asked as the sight of his bandaged hand drew her attention. She invited him in with the gesture of her head, and when she closed the doors behind him, Michael handed her the bouquet. 

She did not really know what to do with it, so it ended up on the kitchen table, covering half of its surface. “I don’t even know what to say right now,” she started, looking at the roses. “Where did you go last night? I’ve been calling you…”

“I needed a moment to think. Trevor was following me, and we ended up fighting. I returned home after a few drinks at the bar and broke a glass,” he explained, trying to make the long story short. “I… was surprised and angry at you. I didn’t want to argue, but I know I shouldn’t have left... I’m so sorry, Phoebe.”

She sighed deeply, taking her time to think of what he had told her. “I don’t know, Michael… I didn’t want you to found out about my pregnancy this way. I was so scared… I still am scared like hell.” Her hands wandered to her belly that was hidden under a black, loose t-shirt. “It wasn’t the way I wanted it to happen, but it did happen and… When you left yesterday, I realised that I’m not sure if I can do it. I don’t want to do it on my own…” She wanted to look down, but Michael cupped her face, making her look at him again. 

“What was it? The thing you wanted to tell me for quite a while,” he smiled at her, knowing well what she wanted to tell him but needing to hear it being said out loud. 

“I’m pregnant, Mikey,” Phoebe whispered, and he leaned down to kiss her, expecting her to stop him but instead, she obediently parted her lips in an invitation. 

Last night she barely slept. Her thoughts were focused on what Michael was doing, where he was, why he was not picking up his phone and wishing he had been there with her. Foolish, she wanted him close. She wanted a man whose baby she was carrying under her heart and did not care about anything else. 

In a blink of an eye, all the sorrows and pain were gone. The bliss replaced them, mixed with the warmth of his lips and the familiar smell of his cologne. Her mind was saying  no , but her heart was screaming  yes  when he made her sit on the edge of the table so she could wrap her legs around him, pulling him even closer. 

“Don’t be scared,” he said just as he picked her up without warning, and she clung to him. “I got you. I got you, and I won’t let anything happen to you or our baby,” he added, and after taking a few steps to her bedroom, he carefully placed her on the bed. “I messed up, but believe me, I want to be there for you. No more damn running, but please, if something happens, I want to be the first one to know. It might be silly, but when I realised Trevor knew before me, I…”

“I didn’t tell him,” she interjected. “He eavesdropped on the conversation I had with Amy. I wanted to tell you as soon as I found out, but I didn’t know how to do that. I tried to tell you at the restaurant back then… There was a sonogram in that envelope. It was how I planned to tell you, but this waitress…”

“This waitress what?” Michael pushed her knees apart so he could kneel between them. “I told you I don’t remember how she even looked like. You’re the only woman I want.”

“Am I?” 

“Do you think I would be here, begging for your forgiveness if you weren’t the one I want?” 

“I don’t know what I think anymore,” Phoebe shook her head, looking down at him. “I want to believe you, I truly do, but after last night… I don’t know. I was expecting you would be surprised, but this… I can’t help but think that if you truly loved me, you wouldn’t have reacted this way.”

“What? Phoebe, I... You really caught me off guard.”

“I know, but it’s not some teenage pregnancy,” she countered, “and I was hoping you would hear me out, no matter how angry you would get.”

“I’m so sorry,” he told her. “I should’ve stayed with you, and I should’ve listened.”

“Do you want this baby, Michael?” She threw another bomb at him just when he started to think he got it under control. “I mean, I don’t want you to feel forced… I also don’t want you to think it’s some kind of a trick to make you stay with me. It’s not. I didn’t plan it and…”

“I want this baby, Phoebe,” he cut in, “as much as I want you. You make me lose my damn mind,” Michael told her, then moved from between her legs further onto the bed with her. “Can I touch you?” he had asked before his hand reach her t-shirt. 

“Yes,” she replied. He pulled her t-shirt up a bit, so her belly was uncovered. She instinctively laid on her back, letting him explore her barely visible baby bump with his lips. 

It was weird for her to see him like this. A transition from anger to some kind of excitement in less than a day was unexpected but welcomed as it was what she needed. He was gentle with the kisses he was leaving on her abdomen, too gentle, but she did not dare to complain.

“Might take me a moment to get used to it,” he admitted once he laid down on his side, face to face with her, a moment later.

“I still think it’s a dream. Me? Pregnant?” Phoebe pondered. “I didn’t think it was possible… Not after… Not after everything I’ve been through.” She did not want to get into details, but Michael figured what she meant. “I’m glad it happened with you… I… I really love you. Maybe that’s why it was so heartbreaking to see you leave… You’re here now, though. That’s all that matters.”

“I’m here now,” he repeated to her left ear when he pulled her to him. “Get some rest, baby,” he suggested when she yawned as she nestled up against him. “I’ll be right next to you.” 

“No, I’m okay,” she protested, but her voice betrayed her. “Fine, maybe I’m a bit tired, but you just got here…”

“And I ain’t going anywhere,” he told her and started caressing her cheek. The touch of his fingers on her skin made her smile uncontrollably, the thought of his presence beside her made her calm, and soon, she drifted away in a peaceful sleep. 

She did not even register the moment her eyes closed while Michael was watching her falling asleep, thinking about everything and nothing at once. Thoughts were going through his mind, making him feel overwhelmed. He still did not know how to deal with Amanda. He did not know how to prove he meant every word he had said to Phoebe about caring for her and the baby. He did not mean any of that to happen, but he let his emotions took over control last night and lost it.

Such a fool he was, indeed.

It would have hurt less if she kicked him out of her apartment, not bothering herself to listen to what he had to say. He did not deserve her forgiveness. He did not deserve her to be this understanding while he was freaking out and acting like a teenage boy with his pregnant teenage girlfriend instead of being a grownup. 

Trevor was right, and to Michael’s misfortune, he was right over and over again. 

He did not deserve Phoebe, but not because he was not enough. It was because he was unconsciously doing everything to screw what they had up. There was no logical explanation for his action. 

It was all because of his damn pride and outgrown ego.

Michael did not know how long he had been lying down next to her, staring at her as if she was a piece of art, but it did not seem to matter. He wished this moment lasted forever. He could get used to this peace... To get used to this domesticity with her and their unborn baby.

Someone had different plans, though. 

Phoebe’s phone vibrated on the nightstand on her side of the bed as she got two texts, one after another. 

Michael sat up carefully, trying not to wake her up with his movements. He knew he should not have snooped, but when he noticed these texts were from an unknown number, he decided to have a look. One quick look. No much harm could be done by that, right?

He quickly recognised whose number it was, and it was not even because he remembered three last digits. The first text was short, and it said: “ Just so you know. Enjoy .” while the second one included a photo. A photo in which he and Amanda were together, kissing in their bedroom last night. 

His throat got dry, and his hand trembled as he kept looking at the messages Amanda had sent to her rival. He quickly figured she had taken his phone, and that was how she got Phoebe’s number, but he did not suspect Amanda would be capable of doing such a thing. 

He should have taken his wife's words seriously this time.

There was one thing Michael knew well about the pregnancy, and it was that a pregnant woman should not be under any stress. Knowing that and wanting to save Phoebe from any harm, he blocked the number and deleted the texts from the inbox. 

He knew he had no right to do that, but he kept telling himself it was for the better and that he did that for the sake of them both. 

“Is everything okay?” Phoebe’s raspy voice reached his ears, scaring him so much he almost dropped the phone down. 

“Yes,” Michal returned, placing her phone down on the shelf, then reached to his pocket for his own to place it next to hers. “I just wanted to put my phone down,” he added, wanting to sound more convincing, and she seemed to believe him. 

“You sure? I mean, you look as if something happened,” she pointed, but Michael stuck to his version. 

“I’m sure,” he said, then once he laid back down, he added: “Go back to sleep.” 

Notes:

The heart works in very mysterious ways... I was getting down a few times to write this chapter, not really knowing whether I'm doing the right thing - I mean, whether Phoebe's doing the right thing, but I realised all she needs now is her baby's daddy... That's what matters now. Is it wise? I guess we'll see...

Thank you so much for sticking around! It means a lot to me to see you reading and commenting on this story. 🤍 😊 I hope you enjoyed this one!

Chapter 30: The Baby's Mine

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The days his kids were born were the most vivid memories Michael kept in his mind. 

A few minutes after Tracey was born a nurse handed her to him to hold for the very first time, and he fell for her in the blink of an eye. She became his whole world the second she looked at him with her tiny, green eyes and touched him with her small hand. Then, his son was born, and he could not believe he and Amanda created such miracles, so when he was looking at his wife back then, it was also the time he loved her the most. 

However, he had never loved anyone as much as he loved his children. Being a parent was one of the most amazing things that happened to him, even if being a parent was also the biggest challenge in his life. It was not always easy with his children, but even the worst moments were worth the joy their presence brought. He watched them both making their first steps, saying first words, growing up and becoming independent adults, and it made him proud. It made him feel like a man should, proud of his daughter and son but still willing to help them whenever they need him. 

Once he became a parent, he always was a parent, and nothing could change that. 

After an initial shock and denial, Michael eventually came around and accepted the thought of having a baby with Phoebe while she was still struggling with this relatively new situation.

She let him in again, hoping this time it would be different. However, basing on her previous experiences, she was keeping her distance. Not that Michael complained, especially at first, because it gave him time to clean up the mess he had made.

Guided by the call of duty, he wanted to prove he was not playing around this time and that he was worth being the father of their unborn baby. Not that she showed him she had any doubts about that, but he already had things on his conscience and did not need another one. 

God be the witness he wanted to make their relationship work. Despite everything that had happened since the day they met for the first time, he still hoped it was not too late to make things right, and encouraged by this thought, he started to act. 

However, no matter how hard he tried, he could shake the feeling another of his lies could soon come out to light, too. 

The photos of him and Amanda were gone, deleted from Phoebe’s phone for good, so theoretically, he had no reason to worry. It would all be good from this point, he kept repeating himself, but somehow, he could not believe it. His mind was overwhelmed with the possible scenarios of what could happen if Phoebe found out about the kiss and the fact he had almost slept with Amanda the other night…

He had to get himself together and stop freaking out. 

His pregnant girlfriend was lying beside him, completely unaware of what had happened. If he would keep acting wisely, there was a chance she would never know about his mistake. He had no feelings towards his wife anymore. All that was left was a sense of familiarity and their kids, who were adults now, so he could as well stop using them as an excuse. 

Just as he managed to ease his mind, Phoebe moved then rapidly got out of bed, hurrying towards the bathroom. The sound of her throwing out followed the sound of shutting doors, so Michael got out of bed to check on her. The second trimester of her pregnancy started, but it did not ease some of the symptoms, so she was still often feeling nauseous.

“Phoebe?” he asked when it got quiet behind the doors of the bathroom. He opened them carefully when she did not respond and saw her on her knees, hovering over the toilet. 

“Go away,” she coughed from above the toilet, without even looking at him. “I don’t—It doesn’t look good.” 

“It’s fine, baby,” Michael returned, and despite her wish, he approached her and crouched next to her to pull back her hair. “I did that to you. I might as well help you when I can.” 

“There’s no such need,” she returned, getting up slowly. “Give me a minute. I need to get myself clean.”

“I really don’t mind—”

“But I do,” she cut in, wiping her mouth with a piece of toilet paper. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” 

“Like this? You mean pregnant?” Michael got back up then backed off, giving her some space. 

“I mean miserable,” she corrected. “Please, leave. I don’t want you to look at this.”

“Fine. I understand,” he stated, leaving the bathroom with hands raised in a gesture of surrender. He returned to the bed, and she joined him a moment later, in a bit of a better mood.

“I’m sorry, I just…” she started with an explanation, “I really don’t want you to see me like this. It’s pathetic. I mean… Not so long ago, you were seeing a regular girl with a pretty body and now what?”

“You really think I see you this way? Pretty body, and that’s it?” Michael questioned, a bit offended, but at the same time, he understood her concerns. 

“Well, if you didn’t start dating me out of pity, you surely had to like me for something…”

“It wasn’t your body. I mean, it wasn’t the only thing,” he told her, lifting his left arm, so she could slip under it and snuggle against him. “You’re one of the sweetest and caring people I’ve ever known. Also, you’re crazy enough to feel something different than disgust towards me. That’s adorable.”

Phoebe puffed, and Michael felt she shook her head. “Okay. Fair enough, but imagine, soon there will be nothing left out of my current body. I’ll get fat and look as if I swallowed a ball,” she was saying. “Will I still be attractive to you when this cute baby bump turns into a big one?” 

Michael looked at her, his right hand reaching for her chin to make her look back at him. “You’re pregnant, Phoebe. Your body’s gonna change, but that’s fine. You’re sexy and attractive to me, now even more than ever.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he repeated. “I honestly can’t wait to see your belly growing. And boobs.”

“Are you implying my boobs are small?” She tilted her head to the side. 

“I didn’t say that,” Michael chuckled. “I just remember from the times when Amanda was pregnant… You know, it doesn’t matter,” he stopped talking, realising she could think he was comparing her to his almost ex-wife. 

“It does matter. I want to know what your experience is with babies and pregnant women,” she returned. “It might be useful in the future.”

“We were both young and stupid. Of course, we didn’t plan that, and when Amanda found out about her pregnancy, she was upset. We didn’t have much savings or perspective, but we somehow made it,” he started telling. “I watched her being pregnant with Tracey, then Jim, so I’m more or less familiar with how pregnancy looks like.”

“How did you feel when Tracey was born?” 

Michael smiled at this question, taking a moment to think of an answer. 

“People were telling me I would love her the second I held her. They were right. I fell for her hard. I held her for less than a minute, and I was ready to do anything for this little baby girl. I might not be a father figure, but I love my kids with all my heart.” 

“I remember when you picked her call the other day, you know? You didn’t hesitate for a second to help her,” Phoebe said, “so I never really had a doubt you do love your kids.”

“She might be an adult, but she will always be my daughter. Nothing has changed from the moment I saw her the first time,” he returned while Phoebe slipped out of his embrace and turned on her back. 

“You sound just like me father,” she pointed, making him chuckle deeply. 

“What about Amanda?”

“What about her?”

“Do you think she loves your kids as much as you do?” Phoebe specified. 

“I think so. The love for our kids is the only thing we have in common now,” he replied, turning to his side to look at her. “Why are you asking me about it?”

“Would it be bad of me if I admitted I’m a bit jealous of her?” she asked after a long while of silence. “I mean… I believe you when you say you two aren’t a thing anymore, but I can’t shake off this feeling that… I won’t ever be her. Don’t get me wrong, because I don’t want to be her. I just know you two have a long history together, and somehow, you just can’t resist her. She has you wrapped around her finger, but I need now to know that you’re devoted to me, not her. If you’re not, we can work it out, too—”

“What do these hormones do to you?” Michael cut in, not wanting her to get too far with her assumptions. “I made up my mind, Phoebe, and you have to believe me.”

“It’s not hormones, I just… I feel so insecure,” she admitted, turning her head towards him. “My whole life is about to change. My plans are ruined. Everything will now be about the baby and…”

“Wait. What plans?”

“I was thinking about going back to med school, but it doesn’t matter now,” she explained. “What matters is our baby.”

“You and what you want matters,” he returned. “I don’t want you to do anything against yourself.”

“I’m having this baby, Michael,” she told him firmly. “You want this baby, and so do I. It might not be the best moment, but I feel like there never is a good moment for it. It happened for a reason, or at least, I like to think it did. Just like I had to get shot to meet you.” 

Michael let out a sigh when her hand touched his cheek and caressed it tenderly. “I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it.”

“That’s a shame because I already forgave you,” she countered. “See, I keep forgiving you because I’m crazy in love with you. Oh, and I’m an idiot, too.” 

“No. You’re an angel. My angel,” he replied. “I don’t deserve you, but I need you so bad.” He sat up, and once he leaned against the pillows, he pulled her on him. She followed his lead and straddled his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“I know you do as I feel the same way,” she confessed after she had kissed him gently on the lips. “I want to be the only woman for you, and by this, I mean I don’t want Amanda around.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I don’t trust her,” Phoebe responded. “I see how jealous of you she is, and it makes me wonder how far she’ll go to get you back.” 

“So, you’re not a  bit  jealous,” Michael concluded while his hand wandered under her t-shirt to find her breasts. “You’re very jealous,” he took her left breast in his hand and started massaging it.

“Ouch,” she moaned, letting him know this way of him touching her was not welcomed. 

“Okay, let me try this,” he put his head under the fabric and with his lips, he found the way to her breasts. He started leaving soft kisses on her velvet skin over there, then rubbed the right nipple with the tip of his nose teasingly. 

He moved further, and she helped him get her top removed, so she was only in her shorts as his hand returned to caress her. He was watching her in awe, admiring the already well visible baby bump and wanting her the closest way possible. 

“I want to be good, Phoebe. If Amanda shows up again and makes you uncomfortable, I’ll ask her to leave,” he stated, compelled by her to the point where he forgot how hard making Amanda leave was so far.

It did not matter to him, though. At that moment, he thought he would be capable of doing anything for Phoebe. Anything to make her and the baby stay with him. It could be a chance for Michael to start over. To be with a woman who wanted to share her life with him and accepted him for who he was. She accepted and forgave him for everything he had done. It did not mean she approved it, though, but he would never expect it from her. 

“I know I’m asking for much, but I just don’t want to let her get between us,” she stated, pressing her naked chest against his when she hugged him. 

“After she eventually signs the divorce papers, she'll be gone,” Michael sighed, moving his fingers to caress her spine. "She’s stalling the whole process to piss me off.”

“Have you already signed them yourself?” Phoebe asked, surprising Michael with such a question.

“I have signed them not long after I met you.”

“Did you have any doubt about it after you had signed them?” Michael figured what her questions could mean, so he decided to end her doubts with a short statement. 

“Not a single one.” Which was not entirely true, considering what had happened the other night with Amanda, but it was closer to the truth than to a lie.


Phoebe thought it would get easier when Michael accepted the fact they were expecting a baby. She hoped she would feel thrilled, and all her worries would be gone, but instead, they were still there. 

It was somewhat of a gut feeling, but she could not shake the thought something was wrong. She blamed it on hormones, telling herself there was nothing to worry about this time. 

She was with a man she loved, and their relationship would soon be strengthened by this tiny human she was carrying under her heart. That was all she wanted to focus on, but she could not. Something about Michael’s behaviour was odd, but she did not really know what. He was being with her whenever he could, doing all the things an engaged partner would. 

Maybe she was simply too cautious and overreacting.

She was in the middle of the fourth month of pregnancy when she made another appointment with her doctor. This time, she took Michael with her to see their baby together for the first time as the idea of showing him the sonogram did not work out. 

Since he knew about the baby, it was his right to see and listen to its heartbeat, too. 

“The baby’s all good, miss Harris,” doctor Hart said, examining the screen. “I’m just worried you’re not gaining enough weight. It might not be anything serious, but we have to keep monitoring it. Please, make sure not to skip any meal.”

“Okay,” Phoebe nodded, her eyes focused on the screen, too. 

“I’ll make sure she eats, doc,” Michael spoke up, reminding them both of his presence by Phoebe’s side. His eyes glistened when the doctor let them hear the heartbeat of the baby. However, when he noticed Phoebe was watching him instead of looking at the screen, he quickly wiped his eyes. 

Doctor Hart handed Phoebe the paper towel to clean her abdomen, and while she was cleaning herself, she approached her desk. “Your other results are fine, but please, rest a lot. From the dark circles under your eyes, I assume don't sleep well,” she stated, glancing at the documents on it. 

“It’s because I’m often nauseous,” Phoebe hurried with an explanation as she got back on her feet. “It’s getting better, though. I think I’ll catch up on sleep this week.”

“I see,” doctor Hart was saying while scribbling down a note to the documentation. “Oh, and I almost forgot to ask - would you like to get to know the gender of the baby?”

Phoebe and Michael exchanged glances, not knowing what to say. “I guess we would like to know,” she started, checking whether Michael was agreeing with what she was saying. "Is that an option for you to write the gender down and fold it, so we don’t see it right away? I’m gonna be honest and admit we didn't discuss it.”

“Of course,” the doctor nodded, pulling a piece of paper out of the drawer and scribbling down one word. “Do you also want me to put it in an envelope?”

“If you have one, sure,” Michael said, glancing at the folded piece of paper. “We’re gonna have a surprise once we open it later.”

The doctor reached out to the drawer again and pulled out an envelope, in which she put the confidential information. Then, she handed it to Michael. “There you go,” she said, and after Michael thanked her, she turned back to Phoebe. “I don’t have further questions for now, but I’d like to see you next month. If you notice anything disturbing, please contact me immediately.”

“I will,” Phoebe returned, and after saying their goodbyes, she and Michael left the doctor’s office. 

Anything disturbing ?” Michael asked while Phoebe packed her medical documents into her bag outside the doctor’s office. “What did she mean by that?”

“She meant that you don’t have to worry,” she reassured him. “Everything is under control, but I have to be cautious. It’s completely normal during pregnancy.” 

“But it's all I do these days. Worry about you and the baby,” he confessed, and she smiled at him slightly.

“You don’t have to. If something happens, I’ll tell you, but from what I know and from what doctor Hart said, everything goes according to the plan.” 

“What about you being underweight?”

“I’ve never eaten much, and you know that,” she stated. 

“I think that should change. For the baby, of course,” he suggested as they started walking down the hall. “Tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll take care of the rest.” 

“Are you gonna cook me for me now?” Phoebe asked, giving him a suspicious look. 

“Are you gonna eat more then?” Michael returned with a question while she bumped into one of the doctors who were passing them by. 

“Excuse me—” Phoebe fired automatically, but then she realised it was not just one of the many doctors in the hospital. “Murphy?”

“Phoebe? What are you—” The man took a step back to look at her, and it was all clear for him as Phoebe’s tight, black t-shirt was not leaving any doubt what was under it. “Oh,” left his mouth uncontrollably as he did not expect to see his goddaughter pregnant. “Which month is it?”

“Fourth,” she responded in a timid voice. 

“Is that…” Murphy wanted to ask, but before he had managed to finish, Michael cut in.

“The baby’s mine,” he said, firm and somewhat proud. “If that’s what you wanted to ask about.”

“Congratulations,” Murphy returned, without confirming or denying Michael’s announcement. 

“Thanks,” Michael replied, but as soon as the situation got awkward, he decided to come up with an excuse to leave his girlfriend with his godfather alone. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee or something,” he added, turning to Phoebe. “You want anything?” 

“No, I’m good,” she told him, and right after that, Michael left her with Murphy.

“It seems that we have a lot to catch up on,” he stated when Michael disappeared behind the corner. “I didn’t tell you about my visit because I wasn’t sure whether my plan was gonna work, but now I think it's safe to say I plan on working in Los Santos for a while.”

“For real? What about your job in Liberty City?” 

“They’ll manage without me for a few months or more,” Murphy looked at her again, pleased to see her belly bigger. “I want to meet my goddaughter’s baby. Does Daniel know?”

“Yeah, he does, and he seems to be thrilled to be an uncle. I think he already bought ten teddies for this little one,” Phoebe instinctively caressed her belly. “Michael’s happy, too. Well, we didn’t plan it—”

“I figured,” he interjected. “Did he take it well?”

“Mostly yes,” Phoebe decided to be honest. “He was a bit shocked at the beginning. I mean, he didn’t expect it, so it’s totally understandable.”

“You know you can be honest with me, right?” 

“I’m honest,” she fired back automatically, “and I’m happy, Murphy.”

“You keep saying so, but… Are you?” he questioned, reading her like an open book. There was no chance to fool him as he had known Phoebe since she was a kid. “Remember when we spoke on the phone last time?” She nodded. “What about your plans?”

“I guess I’ll have to wait a bit longer than I originally intended because I’m keeping this baby, and I’m staying with Michael.”

“I didn’t doubt for a second you would keep the baby,” he marked, “but staying with him? Honey, I don’t know if that’s a good thing. He’s still married…”

“He’s the father of my baby, so of course, I’m staying with him,” she hissed quietly, hoping no one would hear them talking about such sensitive matters. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do now, and I don’t even know how you found out Michael is married, but please, stop.”

“Daniel called me the other day, after your mother’s funeral,” Murphy confessed. "He told me a thing or two."

“So, you two are talking now?” Phoebe’s voice was accusing. 

“No,” he shook his head. “I just… I care about you as if you were my real daughter, Phoebe. I want what’s best for you, I truly do, but I don’t think Michael is the right person for you. I mean… Is he taking it seriously? Does he even think of proposing to you and making it official? Or are you gonna be his side woman with a kid until he gets bored and gets back to his comfortable life without a crying infant in it?”

She was caught off guard in a way that made her speechless. There were no words that could express how mad she got the second Murphy started questioning her decisions and accusing Michael of things that had no place so far.

“Wow,” she huffed, trying to keep her feelings bottled up, so she would not make a scene. “What’s gotten into you? I thought my brother was against this relationship, but you... I was hoping I could count on you… Was I wrong?”

“Of course, you count on me, but be smart, Phoebe,” he countered. “You’re not making decisions just for yourself anymore.”

“I know. You don’t have to lecture me since it’s obvious.”

“What do you think your father would say about it?” Murphy asked, and from the look that appeared on Phoebe’s face, he immediately knew he should not have asked her that.

“Don’t you dare to bring my father up,” she fumed. Outraged that someone dared to question her choices, decisions, and what was worse, use her beloved father to make her feel guilty about it, she lost it. “He would accept my choices and support me no matter what as he always had!”

Murphy swallowed loudly, thinking about what he could tell her to calm her down, but a moment after she had snapped at him, Michael returned with a coffee in his hand. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked casually, ignoring the tension between them. “Phoebe?”

“Yes, but I think we should go now,” she stated, sending Murphy a glare. 

“What about the baby’s gender? You guys know it already?” The man managed to ask, not hoping to get an answer, but he also had nothing to lose at this point. 

“We don’t know, but…” Michael was trying to be polite, but Phoebe had no such intention anymore. 

“You can always use my brother to find out,” she sneered, then walked away, and Michael followed her.


Michael was not joking when he offered Phoebe he would cook for her. In fact, he used all his cooking skills to prepare a fine mac and cheese for dinner and, with the help from Eva, he served it when Phoebe came to him in the evening. 

She appreciated the effort he had put into making it, and even if it was not the finest mac and cheese in her life, she acted as if it was. 

“Can you show me what’s inside the envelope?” Phoebe asked once she finished eating her portion. “It’s not fair doctor Hart gave it to you, not me.”

“Not fair? I finally have the upper hand,” he returned, smirking under his breath. “I can look inside… Or I’ve already looked inside? Who knows?” 

“Stop teasing me,” she told him, reaching for the glass in which Michael had poured the sparkling water, pretending it was champagne. “See what’s inside and tell me.” 

He placed the sealed envelope on the table between them, giving Phoebe a meaningful look. “Just so you know, I haven’t opened it yet,” he started, “and before I will, I would like to ask you something. It’s about Murphy. You seemed pretty angry when I returned… What happened?”

“Can you please not bring that up just when we’re right before finding out whether we’re gonna have a son or a daughter? Is anything else more important than this?” Phoebe took a sip of water while Michael was still looking at her. “Nothing happened.” She eventually gave in. “He was making sure I’m alright, being overprotective as usual.” 

“Can you blame him? He just found out you’re pregnant. It’s obvious he’s worried,” Michael returned, unconsciously taking Murphy’s side. 

“He could think before he speaks, though,” she fired back and not wanting to get into details, she returned her sight to the envelope. “Oh, come on. Open it.”

“What’s your gut feeling?” Michael was stalling, enjoying the frustration slowly appearing on her face. “Boy or a girl?”

“I would say it’s a boy. My mom once told me she was really nauseous when she was pregnant with Daniel, so I’m gonna think of me being nauseous for this long as a sign,” Phoebe replied, putting down the glass. “What about you?”

“All I want is this baby to be healthy. I know, it’s not something you might want to hear, but that’s really all I want.”

“I’ll take it as an answer as long as you open the envelope right now.”

“Are you sure about that? We can wait a bit longer, or you know, have a big surprise in a few months…”

“Open that damn envelope,” Phoebe ordered and was about to grab it herself, but Michael was faster than her. He took an envelope in his hands and carefully opened it, immediately looking inside to see what was written on the piece of paper. “And?”

He did not reply. 

Instead, he put down the envelope right next to him then gave her a rakish smile. 

Notes:

So, the question of this chapter is - A BOY OR A GIRL? 👀 Let me know what you think the gender's gonna be!

I truly appreciate your feedback, so please, don't hesitate to share your thoughts with me! (Of course, if you feel like it!)

As always, a big thank you to everyone reading, leaving kudos and comments! 🤍 I hope you enjoyed it! 🤗

Chapter 31: Everything I Have

Notes:

Hiii guys! It's been a while, huh... Sorry for that, but I've been mostly torn about the way I wanted to write this chapter, but I (finally) managed.

I hope you enjoy it! As always, I want to thank you very much for reading (as well as for comments and kudos). It means soo much to me (and makes me incredibly happy)! :))

Chapter Text

One of the things that were making Michael anxious was a silence in a conversation. 

He hated the time between two statements when he did not know what to expect. There was something so scary in the unknown it paralysed him at times because he had no control over the things that were about to come. Sitting in the dining room face to face with his daughter was one of those things, and he could not predict anything from Tracey’s blank face. She was looking at him, her lips formed in a straight line, but when she spoke up, everything was clear. 

“I hate you, dad.”

It was the answer Michael could theoretically predict, but as a father, did not want to think of. His own child hated him, and even though he knew he was not a role model father, it hurt him deeply. 

“Tracey, I…”

“Don’t even say you’re sorry because you're obviously not. How could you be? You’re gonna have a second daughter. Ain’t that a thrill?” she asked, her voice quiet and bitter. “You were supposed to look after our family, not start a new one with her!”

Michael did not know what to say. He had hoped Amanda would tell their kids about Phoebe’s pregnancy, but she chose not to make this easier for him. He could not blame her, though. It was his responsibility to tell his kids the truth, even if having this conversation was one of the hardest things he had done in his life. 

“It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, cupcake. I love you and your brother with all my heart.” He tried to justify himself, to find anything that would comfort the young woman sitting in front of him. “You’re my girl.”

“One of your girls,” Tracey corrected, “because I’m certainly not the only one anymore.”

“Listen... I told you about it because I wanted to share the joy with you, Trace. It’s not a fucking competition, okay?” Michael had looked at his daughter for a while before he moved his sight onto his son, who was remaining silent, making his presence in the room almost unnoticeable. “Jim? Aren’t you happy to be an older brother?”

“No. Fuck no,” the younger man responded, and these words felt as if someone stabbed Michael in the heart “You knocked up some chick. What’s there to be happy about? You always told me to keep it in my pants—”

“Well, obviously, the rules he makes don't apply to him,” Tracey interjected, sending her father a glare. “You promised to try again and to fix our miserable family, but you failed. Oh, actually, you didn’t even try.”

“I tried, but your mother kept pushing me away—”

“Again with the same excuses.” This time it was Jimmy who cut in. “The same convenient excuses you were telling us for years. You can’t change, dad. You can’t expect us to do something for you if you can’t do anything for us.”

“I can’t do anything for you?” Michael puffed, not believing in what he had just heard. “All you have is because I did things for you! Many fucking awful things to get you a life I never had!”

“Maybe we never wanted that life!” Tracey snapped, getting up from the chair abruptly. “Maybe all we’ve ever wanted was a father who actually cared about his family instead of assuming anything can be bought!”

Michael was caught off guard, and at that moment, he was speechless. His mind went blank, and he opened up his mouth but forgot how to speak, having nothing to say in his defence. 

“All you’ve ever cared for was yourself, dad. Not us. Not even your wife. You,” she continued when she got no response from him. “Do you think we’re both blind?” She pointed her head at her brother. “Do you think we’ve never seen you sneaking out at night or coming home late? The fact you and mom are getting divorced is hard, but… The fact you’re leaving us for someone else instead of trying to get things right with mom…”

“Your mother doesn’t want to make it right,” Michael returned, trying to keep his tone emotionless. “You say that you’re not blind, so you had to notice her bringing other men home. Our marriage… It’s been over for some time.”

“So instead of trying to fix it…” Tracey started, but Michael did not let her finish. 

“I tried. God knows how much I wanted to make things right, but… Some things are too broken to be fixed,” he told her, hoping she would believe him. “It’s not that your mother and I didn’t try, I swear. We did, many times, but it always ended up with the same result. I guess we’re… We’re better off apart.”

“I can’t listen to you,” she said, trying not to shed a tear. “You think it’s better that way, but it’s fucking not! You just don’t want to see it!”

“Tracey, language!” Michael scolded his daughter, but she did not seem to care much. Instead, she reached to her pink purse and pulled out a file with documents, which could only mean one thing. “Is that—”

“The divorce papers, yes. Mom signed them and asked me to give them to you. She said she won't stand looking at you anymore, and now I understand why,” Tracey explained, throwing the file on the table. “Can we go now, Jimmy?” She turned to her brother and waited for a response, but the man was still sitting down, watching his father. 

“How does it feel to be hated by two of your kids?” he asked Michael, then got up from the chair. “It’s not even about the baby. It’s… You abandoned our family. That shit hurts.”

“Trace… Jimmy… Come on. I’m sure you know that I didn’t mean harm to any of you. I love you both so much.”

“If that was true, you wouldn’t have chosen  her  instead of us,” Tracey spoke up, and that was the last thing she said to him. After that, she grabbed her purse and gestured in the front door's direction. Jimmy followed her outside without looking back at his father even for once. 

“Come on!” Michael exclaimed, seeing his kids leave. “You can’t believe that!” he added, but no one seemed to listen to him anymore. He was on his own again, surrounded by the empty walls of the big mansion he owned.


Michael did not know what got into him, but when he realised what had just happened, he was standing in front of Vangelico and holding a small gift box in his right hand.

Embittered by the events from earlier, he had to find a way to numb the pain that grew in his chest. The only person that did not hate him and was able to soothe this pain at the time being was a woman, who he was about to gift with this beautiful ring he had just bought. 

He did not really know why he had done it. Was he really considering proposing to Phoebe? After overhearing Murphy’s words back the other day, he considered it, but he was full of doubts. He knew that if he wanted to have an active part in raising their baby, it would have been much easier if he had her close to him as a wife. However, he also knew that at that moment, he was tired, hurt and desperate for any kind of affection. If she chose to turn him down, then he would not have any idea what to do, so, to save himself from harm, he put the box inside the pocket of his jacket and pretended it was not there.

Nevertheless, he still needed Phoebe. 

All he wanted was to bury his face in her chest and to feel her hands caressing his head with love. He craved to kiss her growing belly, rub it with the tip of her nose and cuddle with her in bed, forgetting there was a world outside the thin walls of the bedroom. His every thought was revolving around her,

Why was he having doubts about proposing to her then?

Proposing to Phoebe, no matter how crazy it sounded, was the right thing to do. Not only because she was carrying his baby, but because he loved her. What was he waiting for then? What could be better reasons than the ones he already had? 

His mind was telling him it was too soon, but at the same time, he had no doubts when it came to different things. He had no doubts when he chose to save her the night she was shot, no doubts when he left her flowers and the card with his number, no doubts when he kissed her for the first time and no doubts when he chose to be with her the most intimate way there was. 

He had no doubts when things were not that serious, but when they got complicated, his instinct started telling him to run away. He was so tired of running, though, and so tired of feeling the way he had been feeling for years. 

Moreover, unconsciously he knew he got somewhat of a second chance. This baby, Phoebe… It was as if fate gave him another opportunity to try again the roles he had failed in. The father, the husband… These were the roles he was never good at, and now, with her, with all the knowledge he had, he could do it right. 

He could make things right if only he did not run away every time it got hard. 

When things get hard, you let go. ” His best friend’s words echoed in his head again. He stopped counting the number of times Trevor was right some time ago, but he seemed not to learn his lessons. Sometimes Michael felt like he was running, but in a circle, making the same mistakes over and over again. 

It was high time to break the cycle and do something different for a change. 

So, instead of running away, he came right to her and knocked on the doors of Phoebe’s apartment, not even an hour after he had left the Vangelico. 

“Michael.” Phoebe seemed surprised to see him as they did not make plans for that day. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you,” he replied, lifting the paper bag he was holding in his hand. “I bought your favourite candies and whiskey, but it’s for me, not you. I won’t let a future mommy drink.” 

She had invited him with a gesture and watched him walk inside her apartment before she locked the doors and joined him in the kitchen. “I know this look of yours,” she stated while Michael pulled out a glass from one of the kitchen cabinets and poured some whiskey into it. “How did the conversation with Tracey and Jimmy go?”

“Bad,” he returned shortly, then downed his drink at once. “Nothing went according to the plan. It wasn’t even close.” 

“Well, we both knew they wouldn’t be pleased…”

“Yeah, they weren’t pleased,” Michael agreed, refilling the glass. “They fucking hate me, Phoebe,” he added, and the way he said it was heartbreaking. 

“Maybe you should sit down…” She suggested quietly, and he did as he had been told, falling onto the chair beside him. “I’m pretty sure they didn't mean it. They were probably caught off guard with the news you told them.”

“I think they meant every word… Especially Tracey,” he started. “I’ve never seen her so… Disappointed? She wasn’t as angry as she was disappointed, that’s certain… Jimmy… Fuck, I must’ve been a terrible father throughout all those years—”

“Michael, stop,” Phoebe cut in. “Stop blaming yourself. It ain’t gonna solve anything. You did everything you could…”

“It doesn’t matter since they hate me.” He shook his head slowly. “What if our daughter will hate me, too?”

Phoebe took a minute to think, moving her right hand to her 5-month baby bump instinctively. “She won’t hate you. Your kids don’t hate you, too, even if they claim so now,” she said firmly, not wanting to let a different option to her mind. “You’re tired and a bit tipsy, so your judgement might not be correct right now.” She reached for the bottle and pulled it away from Michael. “Nothing good ever came from that combination. You need to rest.” 

Phoebe walked to him from the other side of the table and held out her hand to him. “Come to bed,” she said lovingly, and he listened to her, taking a few steps to her bedroom. 

He had kicked off his shoes before he laid down beside her and made himself comfortable. It was late afternoon, but Phoebe was right when she said he was tired as that day drained him out quicker than usual. “How is our daughter?”

“Well, she’s been moving and kicking a lot today,” Phoebe replied, and he smirked slightly, reaching out to stroke her belly. “She definitely missed her daddy.”

“You think so?” 

“She’s calmer when you’re around,” she returned. “You make her feel safe.”

Michael let out a chuckle. “You’re still talking about our daughter or yourself?” 

“I’m talking about us both, actually,” Phoebe admitted, leaning against the headrest, so her belly was at the level of Michael’s face, “but mostly about her.” 

“I see. Daddy loves you so much already, bean,” he said quietly to her belly, brushing it with the tip of his nose. “I can’t wait to meet... you.” His voice cracked, and a second later, he moved away and buried his face in a pillow. 

“Hey, Mikey, what’s wrong?” She reacted instantly, sitting up at once. Her hand was caressing his head while he laid down like this for a while and gathered his thoughts. 

“I had a shitty day, that’s it,” he murmured once he turned his head to the side. “I didn’t think having a conversation with my kids would be this hard. I didn’t… I didn’t know they hated me that much.” 

Phoebe shifted on the bed then laid back down, so she was facing him, and let out a sigh. “I once told my dad I hated him, too,” she confessed, and for a while, Michael thought she was joking, trying to comfort him, but her face was serious as never. “I was more or less Tracey’s age, and I just began medical school. Things were hard, I had no free time, I barely slept… I wanted to do anything but study back then. I remember that one day I returned home for some holiday, and I told my father I hated him for forcing me to go the same path he did.”

Michael was remaining silent, so she continued. “I meant it when I said it, but inside I knew it wasn’t entirely true. I was angry and frustrated, so these words came easily, but I’ve never  really  hated him. In fact, I loved him very much, but… He was my father. I felt many emotions towards him, but it didn't mean all of them reflected the way I really felt.”

“Are you trying to tell me my kids don't  really  hate me?” he questioned, smiling gently at the woman beside him. 

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” Phoebe agreed, returning the smile. “I bet Tracey feels many things at that moment, and so does Jimmy, but hate…  Real  hate isn’t one of them. They need some time to process it. You needed a moment to process it yourself, too.”

“Yeah, because it was life-changing to me.”

“So it is for them,” she fired back. “Many things are going on right now in their lives, Michael. They’re young adults facing the divorce of their parents and the fact that their father is gonna have a kid with another woman… That’s a lot to process. It was already hard when we were just seeing each other.”

“Oh, come on. They’re adults. They should know that life is not easy and sweet all the damn time,” Michael stated, rolling onto his back. “Besides, they should’ve seen it coming. I mean, the divorce.”

“Maybe they saw it coming, but… It always hurts more when it’s actually happening.” 

He kept quiet for a while, then let out a sigh. “I don’t understand why you're defending them.”

“I’m not defending them,” Phoebe returned. “I just… I'm trying to be compassionate because… It’s all my fault.” He opened up his mouth, but before he had managed to say anything, she carried on. “I know you’re gonna tell me it’s not my fault, but try to look at it from a different perspective. Who knows, maybe if you didn’t meet me, you would’ve given your marriage another chance? Well, maybe if I didn’t get pregnant, you would’ve chosen to come back to your wife…”

“You think that’s why I chose you? Because you’re pregnant?” He could not hide the surprise on his face, but a part of him understood her thinking. His kids were one of the reasons why he chose to stay with Amanda years ago, so he also could not blame her for thinking this way.

“No, I…” She wanted to explain herself, but the words did not want to come easy this time, so before she started, she had taken a deep breath and shifted to sit on the edge of the bed. “I just feel like the thought of me being pregnant with you could have an influence on your decisions.”

“You want to know what influenced my decision? My feelings for you,” Michael stated as he sat up, too, and joined Phoebe. “I love you, and it's the only thing that influences my choices.”

Phoebe turned her head away, finding it hard to look at him when the tears were coming to her eyes. She felt them fall on her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away with the grey sleeve of her hoodie while Michael got off the bed and moved down onto the floor to look at her from below. “Why are you crying?” he asked softly, not wanting her to feel bad about it. 

“Hormones,” she replied shortly, then laughed awkwardly as the tears were still falling down her face. “Thanks to this pregnancy I’m on an emotional rollercoaster all the damn time.” 

“I thought I accidentally said something wrong.”

“No. You said everything just right,” she assured him while he spread her legs a little and moved closer to press his head against her belly. He stayed like this for a while as if he waited for the baby to move, but nothing happened. “Michael?”

He moved away a bit and looked at her, his face saddened and blue eyes glistening with tears he would never admit to. She pretended she did not see them, but they were there, and it made her concerned because she had never seen him like this - a few moments from shedding a tear in front of someone.

Michael did not say it out loud, but he was grateful she did not ask. Instead, she took hold of his face and leaned down to kiss him, hoping it would make him feel better. 

It did; in fact, it was just what he needed at that moment. Her touch, her smell, the warmth of her skin on his - he could not ask for anything more. He was holding everything in his arms, and when he realised it, it also crossed his mind to pull out the ring from the pocket of his jacket. 

Come on, you love her. You’re gonna have a baby with her.  He heard a voice in his mind, but even if it sounded convincing to him, he hesitated. Scared of her saying  yes  as much as her saying  no , he chose not to take a risk and left things as they were for some more time.

However, he figured there was something he got to tell her now. Something she already knew about but today it became official.

“I have something to tell you,” he started when she broke the kiss, but her face was still close to his. 

Her eyes widened since this sentence usually did not mean anything good, but she did not want to make false assumptions. “Yes?”

“Amanda signed the divorce papers. I got them today,” he stated and watched her reaction closely, but she did not react the way he had imagined she would. 

There was no visible emotion on her face, no happiness or sadness, and for a while, she was thinking about a response, but caught off guard by such news, all she was able to say was okay.

Chapter 32: Doubts

Notes:

Hi, guys! It took me a while to get this chapter finished, so thank you so much for your patience and for sticking with me for so long.

Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy and, as always, thank you so much for reading!

PS I recommend listening to "Calling out my name" by Elaskia. I feel this song fits the ending of this chapter well, and I just wanted to share it with you. :)

Chapter Text

Phoebe never thought a victory could taste as bitter as when Michael confessed to her that he was no longer a married man. 

It was as if her dream came true, but the outcome was so much different than she had expected it would be. In her mind, she imagined that moment to be filled with happiness or, at least, relief. However, all she could feel was confusion and an undeniable sense of guilt. 

Caught off guard, she could also not come up with any better response than  okay , which she found to be a terrible choice of words right after it had come out of her mouth. There was nothing else that came to her mind, though, because what else could she possibly say? Neither saying she was happy or sad was right, so she stuck to the silence, which could mean both and was probably the worst option she could have picked.

Michael expected another answer, but she could not give it to him, at least, not yet. 

He had to deal with the silence he hated so much once again. It was not something he was handling well, so he decided to leave, figuring it would save them both the discomfort caused by this situation.

Under different circumstances, there would be nothing wrong with such an answer for Michael, but not now. Not when he had just told her he was no longer married, and she reacted as if she did not care about it almost at all. 

“Is that all you told him?” Amy questioned after listening to the story her friend had just told her. “Just okay?”

Phoebe nodded her head in response.

“What was that supposed to mean? He just got divorced to be with you, and you told him it’s okay?” 

“I told him how I felt, which… I didn’t know. I was confused.” 

“You could’ve told him you were confused. By saying  okay  he could’ve as well thought you didn’t give a damn about it,” Amy responded, folding her arms.

“But I did care,” Phoebe snapped. She cared about the divorce and everything else related to the man whose baby she was carrying under her heart. 

“It doesn’t matter, because your response could’ve sounded as if you didn’t. That's what matters… I mean, sometimes the lack of response is much worse than any other response.”

“I reacted the way I could,” Phoebe said in her defence. “I know it might not have been… the best choice of response, but I was surprised.” 

“Surprised?” Amy puffed. “Not that you didn’t know he was waiting for her to sign these damn papers…”

“Don’t be mean, Aims.” 

“I’m not mean, I’m honest” she fired back. “As your friend, I sometimes have to tell you something you might not want to hear. I won’t be nodding my head, and I won’t tell you what you did was good. It wasn’t, and even if I personally don’t like Michael, he didn’t deserve  okay  as a response to what he had told you.” 

“Are you defending him now?” Phoebe could not believe Amy picked his side after all. “What do you think I should’ve told him then?”

“Anything except  okay .”

“Well, I guess it’s a bit too late for that,” Phoebe responded, then bit her bottom lip nervously. “I feel like a fool right now, but I honestly didn’t know what to tell him. It was like… All I could think of was his family, and… I don’t know. I felt sorry for his kids…”

“They’re adults, Phoebe,” Amy cut in, feeling her friend was going in the wrong direction with her motives. “Not to mention, it’s not the best time to get sentimental. You’re pregnant, and things are complicated more than they’d been before it happened. You should think of your daughter first because no matter how much you want everyone to be happy, you won’t save them all from harm.”

“I’m thinking about her… I want her to have a family where mom and dad are together, but it’s all so hard. I even started wondering whether Michael would’ve divorced Amanda if it wasn’t for the baby… If he even would’ve stayed with me if it wasn’t for the baby…” Phoebe’s voice was barely audible when she spoke the last words as if she was ashamed she dared to say it out loud. 

“Does it matter? He stayed with you,” Amy returned, giving her friend a hug. Once her lips were at the height of Phoebe’s left ear, she continued: “He chose you and the baby over Amanda. Trust me, if he didn’t want it to happen, he would’ve left right after he’d found out about the pregnancy.”

“Thanks, Aims,” Phoebe replied, comforted by her friend’s words. “Last night was unfortunate, and I'm mad at myself things went that way.”

“It doesn’t mean today has to be the same,” Amy stated, withdrawing her arms and moving away from Phoebe, so she could look at her again. “Wipe your tears and go talk to him. Apologise. Tell him how you really feel instead of acting as if everything was fine. The fact that you’re confused doesn’t mean you have doubts about him. The situation is pretty complicated, and it will only work if you two communicate.”

“I’m glad I called you. I should do it more often, you know?” A smile appeared on Phoebe’s face. “Maybe then I would’ve known how to react properly to such unexpected news.”

“Oh, you definitely should,” Amy chuckled, then rubbed her friend’s right arm to comfort her. “It’s gonna be fine. He loves you, you love him, and you are gonna have a beautiful baby together. What could go wrong now? You have everything, Phoebe. You’ve gone through so much with him, you deserve your life to be good now.”

“I could say the same to you, Amy. I hope Daniel treats you right because if not, he’ll have to face me,” Phoebe told her friend. “I want you as my sister-in-law, so he can’t ruin it.” 

“He’s doing well so far,” she returned, then chuckled, realising what Phoebe had just said was a possible scenario she did not think of. “Dan is a good man. Thanks for, um, accepting our relationship.”

“It’s nothing. I didn’t have much to say, anyway,” Phoebe returned. “I just want you two to be happy. My brother’s a pain in the ass, but he’s trying, and I… I appreciate it.”

“He’s definitely trying. We have the whole bedroom in teddy bears for your little one, and he keeps bringing more and more… Don’t tell him I told you,” Amy laughed again, this time louder. “He’s happy. I’m happy, and you also should be, so…”

“I’ll talk to Michael, and explain everything,” Phoebe had responded before Amy could finish.

“Don’t take too long, though,” the other woman said, then checked the time on her phone. “Shit, I gotta go to work. Promise you will see him today."

"I thought you had a day off." 

"Cheetah called in sick this morning," Amy explained, then returned to the previous topic Phoebe had tried to change. "Let me know how it goes… Okay?”

Phoebe was hesitant for a short while, but then, she nodded. “Okay.”


Michael had not expected Phoebe to react the way she did when he told her about the divorce being done. He did not expect her to be thrilled, but at least, she could have shown some enthusiasm because, after all, he did it for her. 

Not that he would never get divorced if it was not for her, but her presence in his life made this whole thing a lot easier. 

However, it still was hard for him for many reasons, so he needed to know it was worth it. 

He needed to know it was worth losing almost all the respect his children had for him. He needed to know starting a new life with her was worth losing the one he had had before. He needed to make sure her feelings remained unchanged and that he did not do it for nothing. 

What he got as a response from her was  okay,  and it hurt in a way that Michael had not thought it would. 

He did not want to admit that, but his thoughts wandered in the wrong direction right after he had left Phoebe’s apartment last night. He did not want to admit that he started wondering whether it would not have been better for both of them if he had not come back to the hospital to leave these damn flowers for her. Whether it would not have been better if he did not let himself feel a thing for her. Whether it would not have been better if he just let her leave after he had confessed the truth about his past to her.

Maybe then he would have been able to save his family and his marriage. 

Maybe then he would have saved them both from harm caused by his lies. 

Maybe then…

“What’s that pity party for?” Trevor’s voice dragged Michael out of his thoughts, and his neck made a cracking sound when he rapidly turned towards the man behind him.

“Fuck, Trevor!” Michael groaned, his hand flying to the place where the pain came from. “You can’t sneak on people like this! Learn to knock!”

“If you wanted me to knock, you should’ve locked the doors,” the other man responded, approaching the kitchen island next to which his friend was sitting. His eyes scanned the surroundings and noticed a few open bottles on the countertop. “Bad day, or you can’t pick a drink?”

Instead of responding, Michael took a sip of the whiskey he was holding in his hand. 

“What’s with you,  sugar tits ? You’ve been hiding in your cave for some time now. Oh, and you didn’t bother to pick any of my calls,” Trevor continued his monologue. 

“I’ve been busy,” Michael replied eventually, putting the empty glass down. 

“Doing what?” Trevor scoffed. “Getting drunk? Is that what a responsible  daddy-to-be  is supposed to be doing?”

“Are you here to lecture me?” 

“No.” Trevor shook his head, then he sat down on a chair next to Michael. “I’m here because I missed my best friend. It’s been weeks since we talked, and I’m wondering what’s going on.”

“Are you really asking me that?” This time it was Michael who scoffed. “You’d decided to tell everyone about Phoebe’s pregnancy before she could even tell me, and now you’re wondering why I’m not talking to you? I’m pissed, Trevor, that’s why.”

“I didn’t know that you didn’t know,” Trevor returned, reaching for a bottle and a glass to pour himself a drink. “Besides, you would’ve found out one way or another. She couldn’t keep it a secret forever. In a way, I did you a favour.”

“You did me a favour?” Michael repeated in disbelief. “I don’t think so.” 

“The longer she would’ve waited, the harder it would get to tell you. You know the drill, Mikey. It’s not your first rodeo, eh?” Trevor chuckled, seeing his friend’s grumpy face. “Oh come on, cheer up. You can’t be mad at me forever. I can feel something is bothering you, and you’re dying to tell me all about it.” 

“I’m not dying to tell you anything,” Michael opposed. “Everything’s fine.” 

“Liar,” Trevor stated in a stone-cold voice. “Why are you doing this to yourself? You keep lying all the damn time.” 

“I tried to be gentle, but I guess you didn’t get the hint, so I’m gonna be straightforward with you. I don’t want to talk to you, and you would do me a favour if you just left.” 

Trevor’s smile vanished from his face, and he looked at his friend for a bit with his lips formed in a straight line. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Trevor fired back. “I know you. You might think you can fool me, but you can’t. You can fool everyone else, your pretty girl included, but fuck, I know you too well. I need just one look at your chubby face to know that nothing’s fine.”

Michael opened his mouth to speak, but he could not. Just as the words were about to come out of his mouth, he withdrew. “My face ain’t chubby,” he murmured without looking at the man beside him. 

“I’m just teasing, Mikey.” 

“I know.” 

“So, what’s going on?” Trevor did not want to let go. “You know you’re gonna feel better when you eventually get it out?”

“You’re such a pain in the ass, T.”

“I know.” A smirk returned to Trevor’s face, and he refilled Michael’s glass. “Spit it out, or drink and then spit it out.”

“Remember to stay away from my daughter with this kind of advice,” Michael replied, then drained the glass with one sip. “Actually, stay away from all of my kids.”

“A daughter?” Trevor seemed genuinely surprised, but at the same time, interested. “You and Phoebe are gonna have a daughter?”

His friend nodded in response.

“Well, congratulations,” Trevor continued. “If she’s as pretty as her mom, you'll have a whole city to watch.”

“Thanks,” Michael replied. “I’m gonna be a busy man, then.”

“So, have you two already picked a name?” 

“No. We haven’t had time to discuss it yet,” Michael replied, and this time, he refilled their glasses.

“What about…  Michaela?” Trevor said after a while, and Michael almost choked on his drink. “It would match your giant ego quite well.” 

“I ain’t gonna name my daughter like this.”

“Why? I think Phoebe might like this one,” Trevor stated, looking around the place. “Where’s she, by the way?”

“Because I’m not that vain,” Michael told his friend, then tapped Trevor’s glass with his fingers. “Drink.”

“She’s not here, is she? It would explain the pity party,” Trevor marked, then did as he was told. “Spit it out, Michael.”

“Amanda signed the divorce papers this week,” he started, realising there was no point in hiding what was bothering him any longer. “I told Phoebe about it, and she… I don’t know. She wasn’t happy. She wasn’t sad, either. She just said it was fucking  okay,  and that was it. What was that supposed to mean? I got divorced because of her, but I don’t even know whether this divorce thing was a good idea. I mean…”

“Don’t tell me you have goddamn doubts about divorcing a woman who had cheated on you with probably every coach she had. Besides, you know that your marriage with Amanda ended years ago.”

“I know, but… I don’t know. I mean, it was easier with Amanda. We knew each other. Happy or not, we were together for years…” Michael sighed. “I sometimes feel like I don’t know Phoebe. I feel like she’s got doubts about this whole thing, too.”

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous, Townley,” Trevor hissed, not being able to believe in his friend’s words. “Are you really comparing Phoebe to Amanda?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because they’re nothing alike,” Trevor fired back. “You think Phoebe has doubts about you? I doubt it. You want to know how I know that?” Michael looked at him questioningly, then nodded. “When you two started, I don’t know, dating or whatever you want to call it, one day, she came to me. She came because she was desperate enough to ask me not to hurt her brother, and you know what I did? I made her an offer. All she had to do was… You know.”

“And what did she do?” 

“She told me to go to hell,” Trevor returned, “but I guess I was right when I told her choosing you was a poor choice. The fact you even ask what she did shows you don’t trust her, and that’s a fucking shame because she’s been devoted to you from the start. I doubt that she changed her mind while being pregnant with your kid. She’s smarter than that.”

“I trust her.”

“Oh, really?”

Michael sighed deeply, confused more than he had been before. He reached for the bottle, and this time, he did not bother to pour some whiskey into the glass and took a sip directly from it. 

“I don’t even trust myself now. I’ve never been more confused. I… I feel like I don’t control anything anymore. My kids hate me, Amanda can’t stand looking at me, and now Phoebe is acting odd… It’s frustrating. Nothing I do seems to be right.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. There must be something you do right.” 

“Thanks… I guess.”

“Do you love her?” Trevor asked after a period of silence, in which they both managed to empty their bottles. “Like, for real?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in Michael’s voice this time.

“Then everything will work out somehow,” Trevor returned. “If you don’t fuck it up, of course.” 

Michael tried to smile, but then, another thought came to his mind. The thought he was desperately trying to keep away from himself, hoping that if he stopped paying attention to it, it would go away. 

It did not, and it hit him out of a sudden, in the least expected moment. 

“There’s something more, isn’t it?” Trevor asked when Michael’s face saddened, and he looked down at his legs.

Another sigh escaped Michael’s mouth, but the amount of alcohol he and Trevor consumed within the last hour made it easier for him to open up. “What if I already fucked it up?”


Phoebe followed her friend’s advice, and in the evening, she went to see Michael. 

She was a bit afraid to see him because she felt bad they had parted on bad terms last night. However, the need to fix things was stronger than the fear. She did not even stop at the doorstep and walked straight inside the mansion but hesitated when she heard the muted voices coming from the kitchen.

She did not stop there, too, but came close enough to hear the voices loud and clear.

“What did you do?” It was Trevor’s voice, and Phoebe had no doubts about it. 

“Remember the night when I found out about the pregnancy?” This one certainly belonged to Michael. “We fought on the street, and then I went to the bar. I can't even remember how I got home, but I returned, and Amanda was there, too. I was drunk, and I woke her up…”

“So what, Mikey?”

“I cut my hand, she cleaned it... and we kissed,” Michael confessed. “It didn’t mean a thing, I swear. I was just… Drunk, and she was there, hoping it would change something between us.” 

She barely held herself back from bursting into tears because, the same time she heard his words, she put all the other pieces together. 

Her hand moved to the back pocket of her jeans, and she pulled out her phone. For a fleeting moment, she searched for something, and when she did find the photo she had received a few days ago from Amanda, she could not believe it.

Her first thought was that Michael’s ex-wife tried to ruin her day with an old photo of Michael and her together, so she ignored it, but as it turned out, it was not old. 

In case you didn’t get the message, was the caption right under the sent photo, and these two things combined made Phoebe crack up. 

“Did it change something?” she asked as she walked from behind the wall, and both men turned towards her with horror in their eyes.

Trevor choked on what was left of his drink while Michael got stunned when he saw Phoebe standing in the corridor, her back leaned against the wall. 

“Phoebe, it’s not… How long have you been standing there?” Michael asked back, feeling his heart pounding in his chest, nearly jumping out of it.

“A while,” she told him emotionlessly, even if inside, she was shaking. "You should learn to lock the doors, you know? Anyone can come in."

“Phoebe…” Michael got up from the chair and wanted to approach her, but she took a step back when he got close enough to touch her. “Hey, listen, I know what you heard sounded bad, but it’s not what you think...”

“What is it, then?” She placed her phone in front of his face to show him the same photo he had deleted the other night. “I thought it was some old photo, but as it turned out, it’s pretty recent, isn’t it?”

Michael remained silent.

“I nearly cried my eyes out while you just crawled back to your wife,” Phoebe continued, shaking her head slowly. “I felt something was off, mainly because you changed your attitude towards my pregnancy so quickly, but… It all makes sense now.” 

“I think I should leave you two alone,” Trevor spoke up and wanted to get up, but Phoebe gestured to him to sit. “You two clearly need to talk.”

“No, stay. I’m already leaving,” she had told Trevor before she turned back to Michael. “I’ve got nothing left to say to you."

“Phoebe, wait!” Michael raised his voice, and she listened to him. “Please... It’s not like that. It didn’t mean a thing, I swear…”

“See, I came here to apologise and to tell you that I’m happy about the fact you managed to get the divorce done. I also wanted to say that now we’re gonna have a life together, but you know what? It doesn't matter anymore. Good luck with… Your ex-wife, I guess.” 

“Phoebe, wait, please!” Michael called out, but she was not listening to him anymore.

She stormed out of the mansion and shut the door behind her, bursting into tears the second she was outside while what Michael did was cursing loudly.

It didn't go well.

She typed the message but deleted it right after. Humiliated, she did not want to explain to her friend what had just happened. Tired and heartbroken, what hurt her the most was admitting that she had no more strength to deal with it.

She did not even know what to say, feeling like a fool for letting herself think things were getting good.

Amanda won, and even if she did not need that victory anymore, it was a walkover.

Chapter 33: Complications

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Phoebe could not catch a breath, choking on her sobs and letting the tears fall on her cheeks.

Devastated, she was walking down the street, not really knowing where she was heading. All she could think of was the picture, which was still saved on her phone and how much it hurt. There was no way to get this image out of her mind; she did not even have the strength to look at it once again to delete it. 

It was unbelievable how foolish she had been to think Michael would have stayed faithful to her. It was so like him and so easy to predict... He had cheated on his ex-wife with her, so what was actually holding him back from cheating again? What could she possibly have that no other woman did?

For a long time, Phoebe held onto the thought that she was somewhat exceptional to him as real feelings were bonding them. Their road was bumpy, but they made it so far… Far enough to make her believe that there was a chance for a happy ending for them. A bright future for them and their baby. 

A chance for a future with him.

She was aware of all the obstacles that could possibly occur, and she made peace with most of them, but Amanda coming back to  their  life in the way she did was something she couldn't take. She was not strong enough to see her returning for what was once hers and taking it with so little effort. 

It crossed Phoebe’s mind that whatever had happened between Amanda and Michael could mean nothing more than a drunk kiss means. However, it was too heartbreaking for her to know that he already knew about her pregnancy when it happened. It was like a slap she felt was coming, but she did not really know where it was coming from, and it was more aching than she had expected it would be. 

In the end, Amanda did not have to do anything herself as Michael crawled back to her, the woman who had been his wife for years, as there was no way he stopped having feelings towards her just like that. Just because he met another woman, it did not mean he stopped having feelings for the one who had given him his kids and a family that had meant so much to him for years. 

It was not possible for him to feel  nothing  to her, even just some sense of familiarity or a sentiment. 

Surely, Phoebe could have figured it out sooner, and the fact she did not only proved how naive she had been. She was too blind to notice it or maybe, she was head over heels in love with a man who did not really deserve all those feelings she had for him.

If things were not complicated enough, there was also  their  baby. 

No doubt, Phoebe loved her unborn baby girl with all her heart, but she did not want to raise her alone. She wanted her to have a father and a loving family, in which she would feel safe and secure. Shame, this dream had fallen to pieces before it could even begin. 

It was not that there was nothing more to be done, though. In theory, Phoebe could as well pretend she had not seen this message. She could pretend she had never heard Michael's confession to Trevor and have her happily ever after with a man she loved. 

However, in practice… Phoebe had enough of his lies.

She had been patient for a long time, forgiving him once and twice, but thrice made a fool out of her. In fact, she felt like one, too. A fool who had been too blind to see all the red flags. A fool in love with a man who was never supposed to be hers. 

Michael kept calling on her mobile, but she declined every call he had made. Talking to him was the last thing she needed, especially at the moment, in which she was not thinking straight. Phoebe still did not know where she was going, but she knew she could not stop walking, feeling the urge to get as far from him as she could. 

She did not want to go back home to the emptiness of the four walls, so she came up with another idea, and after declining another of his calls, she called a cab. 

She did not know whether she was doing the right thing, but there were no better alternatives. At least, it was what she was trying to convince herself to when the driver parked in front of  Vanilla Unicorn

The man glimpsed the baby bump hidden under the material of her black t-shirt once she got out of the car, but he did not say a word, probably thinking she had lost her mind to come to such a place in  that  state. 

She was not in a mood to scold him for that, though, and once she shut the yellow car door behind her, she rushed inside the building. There was only one person she was willing to talk to at that moment, and she had to look for her in the crowd full of drunk men and half-naked women.

All eyes seemed to move onto her as she walked in, and she was pretty sure every girl in that place knew who she was. The rumour spread fast, and considering Trevor did not usually keep his mouth shut, anyone could easily connect the facts. 

It was as if everyone in that place were looking at her with pity. It was not a place for a pregnant woman, but going home and pretending no one was there if anyone would have come was just an equally bad idea. She was not feeling well, either, so maybe it was better she was not on her own at that moment.

“Hey, are you alright? You look as if you were about to pass out,” a bartender asked once she leaned against the counter to calm down a bit. 

“I’m looking for a friend. Her name’s Amy,” Phoebe told him, without responding to his question. “Do you know where she is?” 

“The pretty blonde who works here? I haven't seen her in a while, but she will probably show up soon. This place isn't that big,” the man smiled comfortingly at Phoebe, and she instinctively smiled back, forgetting, for a very brief moment, why she ended up here in the first place. 

The man in front of her was her age, or maybe a bit older, it was hard for her to tell precisely. What drew her attention was the sleeve tattoo, which was visible through the thin material of his white shirt, and the mechanical watch on his left wrist. She noticed it as he placed a glass of water in front of her, and for a while, she could not take her eyes off it.

The stranger smirked when he caught her staring at his tattooed forearm, then withdrew it to brush back his short, dark hair.

Phoebe looked down and blinked a few times, knowing she should not have stared at someone she had never seen before like this, but she just could not help herself as this small act of kindness caught her off guard. She did not expect that, but it felt so good to be noticed by someone who seemed to genuinely care. 

“Thanks,” she said to the bartender. Then, she took a sip of water from the glass he had placed in front of her earlier, and with the other hand, she put her phone on the counter. 

The second later, it started ringing.  Michael

“Boyfriend?” The man asked, peeking at her screen with the corner of his eye while she quickly reached for it to decline the call. 

“It’s complicated,” she returned, turning her phone upside down, "and it’s definitely something I don’t want to talk about with a stranger.”

“I bet,” he told her, then held his hand out over the bar. “I’m Max.” 

“Phoebe,” she introduced herself, then shook his hand, barely stopping hers from shaking on its own. “Sorry, it’s just—”

“You don’t have to explain to the stranger from behind the bar,” Max cut in. “But since I know your name, and you know mine, we’re technically no longer strangers, right?”

“Right,” Phoebe confirmed, but she was still trembling, and it was getting hard for her to breathe. “It’s just a bit stuffy in here,” she stated, then took another sip of water, hoping it would somehow make her feel better.

It did not. 

Her heart was racing, and she knew it would not end well. She knew herself well enough to know when something was wrong, and this time, it definitely was. 

From that point, everything happened so quickly, she did not even hear Max’s response. Her vision went black right after she put down the glass, and the second later, she fell.


Michael’s phone started ringing early in the morning and dragged him out from a short nap he had managed to take after the whole night of calling Phoebe. However, to his disappointment, it was not she who called. It was an unknown number, which he did not even look at, but automatically declined. 

The last thing he needed was talking to some sales representative or basically anyone else who was not her. 

He was so mad at himself for letting walk away the previous night. The truth was that he wanted to go after her right after she had left, talk to her and explain, but Trevor stopped him, saying it would have done more harm than good to both of them. 

“For god’s sake, give her some space,” Trevor told him a few hours earlier, “and sober up before you think of doing anything stupid, again.” 

Trevor was right, and his words were appealing to Michael the previous night. However, in the morning, he wished he had not listened to his friend, especially since Phoebe did not pick up any of his calls. 

He was frustrated, but he was worried even more. His mind started to fill up with possible scenarios of what Phobe could be doing while her phone kept ringing all the time. The worst was the uncertainty and the fact he could only think of possible explanations for her disappearance. 

Michael hated not knowing what was going on almost as much as he hated the silence in a conversation. 

Powerlessness filled him up because not only he could not do anything at the moment, but he was the one responsible for this mess. If only he had thought twice and did not kiss his ex-wife in the moment of his weakness…

Nothing could possibly explain his behaviour, though, not even a moment of weakness. He could have as well stayed and talked to Phoebe instead of running away like a coward back then. He could have been the man he was expected to be, a mature and responsible one, because not only did he love her. She was the mother of his second daughter, too.

His phone rang on the nightstand once again, and it was another call from an unknown number, so eventually, he reached for it to pick it up. 

“Halo?” he asked, prepared to hear it was a mistake, but it was not, and instead, he heard a familiar yet unexpected voice in the earphone. 

He listened to what he was being told with caution, but after a while, he froze. The worst scenario in his mind had become real, and nothing could prepare him for what he had just heard.


The next thing he recalled was storming inside the emergency room, car keys and his wallet in his hand as they were the only things he had taken with him before he left the mansion. He looked around, searching for anyone who could possibly provide him with any information when he bumped into a nurse who was heading towards the reception desk.

“Excuse me,” he said in a rush, “I’m looking for someone—her name’s Phoebe Harris. I got a call she had come here last night. She’s five-month pregnant…”

“Are you a relative?” The woman asked in a formal voice, eyeing him from the bottom to the top. “A husband?”

“Yeah. A husband,” Michael fired back, willing to say everything just so she would tell him where Phoebe was and let him pass. “Please, just tell me where she is.”

“One second. I need to check it in the system,” the nurse told him, walking behind the desk and searching for something on a computer. “She’s in room 116. It’s down the corridor on your left, but she already has a visitor—”

“Thanks,” he replied shortly, not listening to a word she was saying after she had told him a room number. He couldn't care less about anything anyone wanted to tell him, no matter how important it could possibly be. What mattered the most to him was seeing her and making sure she was okay.

He nearly ran through the corridor straight to the indicated room, wishing he had never let her go alone and never did all the things he had done to her. If he could turn back time and get a second chance, he would have never left the night he found out she was pregnant. 

He would have never let her suffer.

He halted a few steps before the room to adjust his jacket and the shirt he had been wearing since last evening to look better than he felt, which, in fact, was horrible. He could feel his heart in his throat and his hands sweating as he was about to look in the eyes of a woman he loved, but still, he dared to cheat on her and hurt her in the worst way possible. 

He took a deep breath and approached room 116, intending to walk straight inside, but then, he heard a voice he could not recognise at all. 

To his surprise, it was a man’s voice, so he glanced through the slightly ajar door to find out to whom it belonged. 

At first, he saw Phoebe lying on a hospital bed, a bandage wrapped around her head, but she was smiling weakly at a guy who was sitting on a chair right next to the bed. He had broad shoulders, but Michael could not see his face as his back was turned to the doors. His appearance did not seem to matter much to him at that moment, though. The fact that another man was sitting next to his woman instead of him was enough to make him feel this painful sting in his heart.

After a while, Phoebe caught him staring in her direction, but right after their eyes met, there was no visible emotion on her tired face. Then, she looked away, returning her sight to the man next to her, and the corners of her lips lifted up again. 

“I didn't expect to see you here.” He heard Amy's voice behind his back as she hurried in his direction with two coffees in her hands, but apparently, the second coffee was not for him. “I told you not to come.”

“What did you expect me to do after calling me?” Michael scoffed, turning around to face her, then moved away from the doors. “Who the fuck is he?” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down.

“Who’s who?” Amy returned the question, not realising at first what Michael referred to, but when he pointed his head at the doors, she got the hint. “Oh, his name is Max, and he got Phoebe here last night. You were god knows where, doing god knows what, so before you make a scene, remember that you weren't with her.”

“Amy, please, spare it. I just want to know how Phoebe's feeling and—”

"Well, in that case, you should've gone inside,” she cut in, "but you messed up big this time, didn't you?”

These questions Michael left unanswered while Any continued. 

“I don’t know what exactly happened between you two because she made it clear she doesn't want to talk about it, but I’m her friend, and I know her. I once told you that all you’re capable of doing is hurting her, and I guess I was right. Whatever you did to her… The best thing you can do now is to let her be.”

“How can I leave? Amy, she's the mother of my child... I can’t leave now,” Michael returned, feeling the enormous sense of guilt overwhelming him.

“Shame you didn’t think of it when you left after finding out she was pregnant,” Amy bit, then looked down for a second, searching for the words to tell him. “Listen, I called you because I thought you had the right to know what’s going on, but it doesn’t mean that you’re welcome here… At least, for now.” 

“But I have to talk to her.”

“You don’t, Michael. Just leave before you make everything worse than it already is,” she told him and wanted to walk away right after, but his worried face made her feel somewhat of pity for him. “The baby’s fine,” she added, then disappeared inside room 116, closing the doors right behind her.

The message was clear, and Michael had no doubt about its meaning, but he did not plan on leaving. Instead, he fell on one of the chairs by the wall and hid his face in his hands.

He did not want to admit that he felt so powerless and furious at the same time because Amy was right. 

Even if he did not reply to her question, Michael knew he had messed up big this time. He was already feeling the ground under his feet shake, so it was only a matter of time before it would collapse. Just as it did, he was the most determined to fight. 

If he had not been already worrying about his relationship, it was high time for him to start. 

Notes:

It took me a while to update, but it's finally here! I don't think I have much to say here except that I'm curious to know what your thoughts are, especially since there's a new character in this chapter... 👀

I hope you enjoyed it, and a big thank you to all of you for reading! 🤗 (Here's hoping the next chapter will be posted sooner than this one 😉)

Chapter 34: You Nearly Had It All

Notes:

Hi, guys! It's been... a while, and I'm so sorry it took so long! I thought I would never finish this chapter, but thankfully, it is here. 😅

I would like to thank everyone so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy this update, too!

Chapter Text

All Phoebe could think of was the baby. 

It was her first thought after she regained her consciousness. It was the only thing she could focus on while Max drove her to the hospital and the only thing that mattered when she found herself on the hospital bed. It did not cross her mind to think about herself, the cut on her head, or to bother how much it hurt. It simply did not seem to matter how she was feeling as long as she did not know how the baby was. 

Nothing else mattered to her as much as this baby did.

It was so strange how priorities in her life changed the moment she saw the two parallel lines on the pregnancy test. She could not find words to explain it, but from that point, everything she did was for the baby, and when she felt her daughter kicking for the first time, she fell.

She had heard of this indescribable kind of love parents often talked about before but never thought she would feel it herself. When she did, though, she immediately knew there was nothing she would not do for this tiny human inside her. There was nothing she would not do just to make sure her daughter was safe.

No wonder why she only felt relieved when the doctor told her the baby was fine, and there was nothing that could possibly endanger it now. He explained it was because of the stress and the sudden change of pressure that she had lost consciousness, but no harm was done to her precious  bean

Phoebe started calling her baby that way after she had found she was pregnant and kept doing so ever since (even if her daughter was no longer the size of an actual bean). 

Considering all these things, she could not express how grateful she was for an immediate reaction from Max and Amy. Her friend joined them at the hospital not long after they had arrived, providing her much needed reassurance that everything would be fine. 

If only Amy knew what had caused the stress and the reason why Phoebe appeared in  Vanilla  in the first place, she would have never called Michael. However, it did not take her long to figure out something must have happened between the two of them. Thus not long after calling him, she regretted her decision, but it was already too late. 

Michael arrived sooner than Amy had expected he would, and for the first time, she saw fear in his eyes. She did not take him for a man who cared much about anyone but himself, so this sight softened her, but not enough to let her see Phoebe. 

Not when her friend was still shaken, and especially not when some other man was there with her, too. 

Amy did not trust Michael at all.

She had always known he was trouble, but, at the same time, she knew how much he meant to Phoebe. It was something she did not quite understand, but as a friend, Amy could not stand in her way to happiness, whatever this happiness could be. 

Nevertheless, when Amy saw Michael standing next to the ajar door of the hospital room, she got scared, too. 

She knew she had to get in his way before he would have done something reckless again. What she did not know, though, was that Michael was stubborn, and he was not planning on going anywhere, even if she tried to chase him away. 

After all, it was about his baby, too, and a woman he did not want to give up on.

There was nothing Michael wanted more than another chance, even if he knew he did not deserve one. Phoebe had always been patient with him, loving and forgiving, but apparently, even she had her limits. It was something he understood but wished it was different. 

Michael wished he could get the last chance to prove to her how much she meant to him, how much he cared and how much he loved her and their baby. 

He did not care how much time he would have to spend outside the hospital room, waiting for her. He was determined to see her, even if he would have to wait hours, days, weeks.

It did not matter.

Michael reached the point where he could not care less about the costs he was about to bear as long as he was heard by her (even if he had no idea what he could possibly tell her except how sorry he was). 

So, after a rather unpleasant conversation with Amy, he waited. 

He waited, tired and anxious, while minutes seemed to feel like hours. He did not know how long he was sitting like this, his arms folded and head resting against the wall of a creepily white corridor, but at some point, his eyes closed. Once he opened them again, he noticed some man was standing aside, checking something in his phone.

Michael looked at him carefully, soon realizing it was the same man he had seen earlier with Phoebe. He did not want to make a scene, but the blood raged in his veins, and even if he knew he should not have let jealousy control him, there was not much he could do. 

“You’re Michael, right?” The man spoke up as if he knew he was being observed, then put the phone back into his jeans. “I probably shouldn’t be talking to you, but who cares? I’m Max.” He approached, then held his hand out to Michael.

“Right,” Michael shook his hand, but more out of courtesy than because he wanted to. “You must be this guy who got my girlfriend here last night.” There was something snippy about the way he said that something which was supposed to put Max in his place, but the other man did not seem to care much.

“Any decent man would’ve done it,” Max responded, then sat on the chair next to Michael. “Especially since her boyfriend was   not around.” He bit back, hitting Michael’s soft spot without even making an effort.

Michael forced a smile, but inside, he was barely holding himself back from exploding. He was tired and hungry, so the only reason why he was holding on was the thought of Phoebe being inside the room next to them.

“You’re right,” he said through clenched teeth, “any decent man would’ve done it.”

Max did not reply to that, so, for a while, they both were sitting in complete silence. 

Michael did not know what else he could say while Max kept staring ahead until he eventually dared to speak up again.

“Phoebe seems to be a very good person.”

“She definitely is,” Michael turned his head to look at the younger man in a suspicious way, “but I guess you’re not here to tell me that.”

“No. I mean not only that,” Max returned, then took a while to think. “Listen, she and I… We had a moment to talk after we’d arrived here. She did not tell me much, though, but what she did tell me got me thinking.”

“About what?” Michael could not help his curiosity, even though his guts told him he should not have asked. 

“What is she still doing with you?” Max questioned, feeling he was balancing on a thin line of Michael’s patience, but it did not stop him from moving further. “I mean, you got her pregnant, so that’s pretty obvious she needs you in a way, but, fuck, you cheated on her right after—”

“Oh, shut up. I don’t think you have the slightest what you’re talking about,  boy ,” Michael cut in, barely holding himself back from punching Max in the face, this time, for real.

“On the contrary, I think I do,” Max returned, getting up from the chair. “She told me you crawled back to your wife like a damn coward after she’d told you about her pregnancy. What kind of a man does it make you?”

Michael bit his bottom lip and clenched his fists so hard his knuckles went white, trying his best not to get himself provoked by some empty words from a man he did not even know. However, that man seemed to know him. Michael was not sure whether it was just because of Phoebe’s words or if there was more to it, but either way, his patience was running out. 

The fact Max continued his monologue only made things worse than they already were.

“Your reputation is well known among the people here. You’re a pathetic man, horrible father and even worse husband. Do you think Phoebe can’t see that? She knows who you are as well as everyone else--”

“Shut your mouth!” Michael growled as he rapidly stood up. His hand flew to Max’s neck, and a second later, he pulled him up and pinned him against the opposite wall. He tightened his hand, digging his fingers in Max's flesh so hard he started choking. “You don’t know a fucking thing about me, and you don’t have a fucking clue what she—”

“Michael?” Phoebe's voice was full of horror when it reached Michael’s ears, making him loosen up his grip at once. “What are you doing?”

“Phoebe, it’s…” Michael had let go of Max’s neck then withdrawn his hand before he turned around to face her while the other man started coughing, trying to catch a breath. “It’s not my fault, I swear.”

She looked at him, and her eyes were full of doubt. “Is that so? You’re not the only one gasping for air here.”

“He provoked me,” was all Michael was capable of saying while she kept on looking at him the way she did. 

So disappointed and broken.

“Max, are you alright?” Amy stormed out of the room, reminding the others she was still there, watching the whole scene, too. She approached the other man, then crouched beside him, trying to check whether he was not hurt, but when Max nodded at her, she knew he had it under control.

“How could he possibly provoke you, Michael?” Phoebe continued, her body trembling uncontrollably from fear and cold since she was dressed only in a thin patient gown. “I… What’s wrong with you?” 

Michael did not know any words he could use to explain himself. Not when he messed up so badly, and then she caught him pinning a man, who had helped her get to the hospital when he was not around, against the wall. 

“I swear I wouldn’t have done it if he did not provoke me—”

“Was anything he said untrue?” she cut in with a question, depriving him of every argument he had to defend himself. “I heard what you two were talking about, and I did not hear anything false. If you were wondering, yes, Max asked me what happened, so he had to pick me up from the floor in the damn strip club, and I told him the truth. I did that because I can’t keep it all to myself when you keep doing things like this!”

He could not deny anything because it would have made him a hypocrite. He was already a liar and a cheater, so he did not need another name to be called by. 

“I don’t think this conversation leads us anywhere, so I guess it will be better if we just finish it now. I must rest,” Phoebe continued, then painfully hissed when she felt the pain in her belly when her daughter unexpectedly moved. 

“Hey, hey, I got you,” Michael got to her in no time, but she brushed his hands off her. 

“Don’t you dare to touch me,” she blurted, then propped herself against the doorframe and took a deep breath. “Just leave me alone. I don’t need you. I don’t need this damn chaos you’re dragging me into.” Her words were bitter, but Michael did not interrupt her. He did not even want to defend himself, knowing well he deserved to hear each and every word she had to say. “I hate Amanda, but she was so right. At the end of the day, you always come back to her, so… Go. Get out of here, so I wouldn’t have to look at you and remember all the things you did to me.”

“Phoebe, please, let me explain—”

“What’s there to explain?” She interrupted him again, tired of listening to his empty words. “What you did disgusts me. I can’t get this damn photo of you and her out of my head, so if you want to do something for me, then please, just leave.”

“Is everything alright here?” Some old nurse asked, accidentally being a witness to this scene. “Oh dear, is he alright?” She approached Amy and Max at first, then moved her sight onto Phoebe and Michael. “Excuse me, but I need you both to calm down. You’re not alone here, other patients need to rest, so I must ask you to take this argument somewhere else.”

“We’re sorry, but I think there’s no need for that,” Phoebe told the nurse. “He’s leaving.”

“Just keep it quiet,” the older woman returned then, after making sure Max did not need to see the doctor, she walked away, the sound of tapping spreading through the corridor until she disappeared from their sight.

Considering the growing tension, Amy also figured it would be better if Phoebe and Michael solved it themselves. So, she nudged Max, then quietly moved with him to the other side of the corridor.

“Is that what you want?” Michael asked, feeling the gulp in his throat. “I should be here with you, I…” He cleared his throat. “I’m the father of our baby. I should be here for you both.” 

“I think you missed your chance for that,” Phoebe stated in a stone-cold voice. “Now, I just want you gone.”

He could not find the words, but the silence expressed more than any amount of them. It revealed the incredible pain Michael felt in his chest when he realized he had let her down, the helplessness, and the bitter truth he did not want to accept. 

Phoebe was disgusted with him.

He was not proud of what he had done, either, but what he was hoping for was forgiveness. He wanted to make amends and fix all the things he had destroyed. Little did he know that trust was one of these things, too, and, unlike other things, it was not easy to fix.

Not to mention whether it was even possible at all.

“You can’t do this to me,” he spoke up after the initial shock caused by her words. “I’m the father of the baby… You can’t push me away from our daughter.”

“I can, Michael, and if you push me, I will push you.” Phoebe’s voice was tired, but she did her best to sound firm. “If you won’t leave this building in two minutes, I will call the security, doctors, nurses, whoever is here to get you out of here by force. I can’t fight with you because I’m exhausted, and my daughter doesn't need that.”

He felt as if he slapped him with her words, but before he could reply to her anyhow, she disappeared inside the hospital room.

Michael instinctively wanted to follow her, to tell her he would not let her take his daughter away from him, but he knew he was in a losing position. Besides, despite all the anger, she caused him to feel, the last thing he wanted was to make the conflict between them a lot worse than it already was. 

Still, he felt so powerless at that moment. So disappointed about the way things turned out for him. Too hopeless to believe there was any happy ending waiting out there for him.

It crossed his mind that he was doomed, but maybe, he was simply feeling too overwhelmed to feel anything else than despair.


When Michael arrived home later the same day, the first thing he noticed was that the driveway was empty, and it struck him how quiet it was. 

No one seemed to be home. 

Tracey was not fighting with Jim in the kitchen, and Amanda was not in the backyard, having her yoga classes. Even Eva was not there cleaning the living room. There was just him, the enormous sense of guilt, and the silence that was so painful, he had to walk out of his mansion right after he had entered it. 

What was the point of having a house this big if only one person was living in it? 

Michael could not find an answer to this question, but he knew more than well that he was the responsible one. Every choice he had made from that unfortunate night he met Phoebe led him to this place, full of pain and disappointment, and what was the worst, there was no turning back.

It was not how he had imagined his life would look like, especially not when he started hoping he got a second chance for a life with a woman who actually loved him. 

He wanted to be loved. He wanted to be needed. 

He wanted to be a man he had never been before.

He wanted to change but failed.

It also crossed his mind whether Amanda ever loved him. Maybe she did, but it did not matter to make a difference at that moment, anyway. Either way, he ended up alone, surrounded by the four walls of the enormously big mansion he did not know what to do with. 

He sighed as he sat down on the stairs leading to the front doors, then covered his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes.

He was, indeed, a pathetic man. 

“I should feel happy, but I actually feel sad seeing you this miserable.” Michael looked up at the sight of the least familiar voice he expected to hear. 

“What are you doing here, Mandy?” he asked, straightening up and pretending nothing was going on, which was obviously a lie. “Forgot anything?” 

“No.” Amanda shook her head, then raised her hand to show him she was holding a bunch of keys. “I thought I would leave you the keys under the wiper or something, but I can as well give them back to you personally. You know, after all, the house is all yours now.”

Michael did not reply as he simply did not know what to say, but Amanda did not seem to need to hear his words to guess what was hiding behind the facade of his blank face.

“You nearly had it all,” she stated after a while, then threw him the keys, “but now, you're all alone.” 

Again, he did not reply.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” 

It was a rhetorical question.

Chapter 35: Worst Nightmare

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Michael was devastated. 

He realised, and it struck him like thunder, that except from the four walls of his mansion, he had nothing left. His family was gone, and the woman he loved could not stand his presence.

The ground trembled under his feet, making his world shatter like a house of cards, and he was not ready. 

He was not ready to lose everything he had. 

The doors closed behind him as he walked inside, and a desperate scream escaped his chest. If he could, he would have set that place, his house, on fire because everything seemed to lose its sense to him.

This building seemed to be nothing but a reminder of what he had lost. 

He was no saint, but he did not want to think of himself as a villain. However, everything was telling him that he was one. He was a villain in Phoebe’s story, and she would remember him as one whenever she would look at their daughter, and at that moment, he was too powerless to change it. 

Would he ever see his daughter? 

Would Phoebe ever let him near her? Would she ever look at him without disgust? 

He could not stand these thoughts or his reflection in the mirror when he walked into the bathroom to wash his face with cold water, so he furiously smashed it with his right fist. The glass broke, but only a few small pieces fell around the sink and the floor. He was staring at the broken mirror for a while and did not feel a thing until he noticed his right hand slowly covering in blood. Then, the pain hit him, and bleeding intensified, so he had to rush downstairs to get a first aid kit. 

By the time he found the bandage, the kitchen cabinet and the surroundings were covered up in red stains of blood as the pieces of glass cut the spaces on his knuckles and between his fingers deep. He disinfected the wound with alcohol, which hurt, but numbed the pain with a whiskey he served himself later. 

He whined but knew no one would hear this desperate cry for help. It was pointless, completely unnecessary, but when he tried to move his right hand, he cursed even louder than he whined as it hurt like hell. 

After some time of whining, cursing and feeling sorry for himself, he clumsily wrapped the bandage around his palm. Then, he took a glass in the other hand, and still feeling all that pain, both mental and physical, he moved onto the couch in the living room. 

His body fell on the cushion, and he stared blankly ahead, hoping he would somehow feel better, but it was naive. There was nothing he could think about except Phoebe, and the longer he thought, the frustration grew.

He tried to call her a dozen times, but she was not picking up. She was not picking up while he poured himself more with every missed call, determined to keep calling her until he would eventually hear her voice. 

He drank, roared and dialled her number until he ran out of whiskey, his voice became barely audible and hoarse, and his phone eventually turned off on its own. 

At some point, he got tired, too. However, the throbbing pain was still in his chest, no matter how he wished it would disappear. 

He gave up on hoping it would leave him soon and, after a while, just closed his eyes, patiently waiting for the sleep to come.


His sleep did not give him any kind of comfort as it was full of nightmares, and for the next few days, he could not get proper rest. 

Every time it was the same dream that haunted him.

He was running through the endless white corridor, hearing a female scream that he could swear sounded like Phoebe’s. He was waking up each time feeling he was running out of breath, his heart racing like crazy, and there was not a chance he could not fall asleep again. 

Days got blurred as every day looked the same. All he did was eat the takeouts, watch old movies, drink until he fell asleep, and wake up with horror in his eyes after three or four hours, feeling nothing but disturbed, to say the least. 

He had no idea where it was all coming from, but the feeling was horrifying. It made him doubt everything he knew, leaving him anxious as if there was a real danger, even if he knew there was not.

His head was just playing with him, testing how far it could go before he would eventually lose his mind. If the sense of guilt was not enough, he also had to face being constantly tired as even sleep did not bring him ease, which only made him weaker than he already was. 

He did not have the strength to fight these feelings any longer, and even if he did not want to admit that, he gave up. He gave up, then fell even further in despair that consumed him the second he met Amanda the other day. 

There was no turning back, or at least, Michael could not see the way out of this situation, in which everyone he had ever loved did not want to see him. Everyone hated him for who he was, and the worst was, he hated himself, too, so he could not even blame them.

“Dad?” He thought he heard his daughter’s voice one of many afternoons he was spending on his couch, watching some movie he had already seen before, but did not react at first since he figured Tracey had no reason to come home. Especially since she, as well as her brother, knew Amanda had already moved out. 

However, when someone poked his left arm, he shuddered, and his slightly closed eyes widely opened almost at once.

“Trace?” he asked, not believing his daughter was sitting next to him. “What are you doing here, baby?”

“I still have some of my clothes left in my room, so I wanted to get them,” she responded, looking nervously around the living room, “but then I saw you, and… Are you okay, dad?”

“Never better, sweetheart,” he told her, then forced himself to smile, but the bags under his eyes, stubble on his cheeks and the disgusting stench of alcohol were contrary to his assurance. 

“Are you sure? You don’t look well,” Tracey responded, sounding genuine like never before. “What happened to your hand?” She pointed at the bandage on his right hand, and he withdrew it, so she was not looking at it. “Dad…”

“It's nothing.. Don’t worry about it, okay? Just grab your things and go, don’t waste your day sitting by your old man.” He sent her a reassuring smile, then turned to the side, mainly because he did not want her to see him that way. He did not want her to worry, nor did he want her pity. 

It crossed his mind he was dreaming, and Tracey was never there, but when he felt her hand on his shoulder, he had no doubt it was not a dream. 

He had let out a sigh before he slowly turned around and looked at her with concern. “What is it?” 

“I… I didn’t come just for the clothes, I…” She paused, not knowing the words to use to say what she wanted to tell him. “Mom told me what happened, and…. Fuck.”

“Trace, language.” 

“Remember when I told you I hate you?”

It was not the question Michael expected to hear, but he nodded in response, then patiently waited for her to continue. 

“I didn’t mean to say it. I mean, you’re annoying most of the time, and, in a way, you ruined our family, but I don’t hate you. Not completely. You’re my dad.” She sighed. “I can’t stand seeing you hurting, even if I think you deserve it after what you did to mom.” 

“Most of the time, she wasn’t better than me,” Michael stated in his defence, and Tracey smiled for the first time since she had appeared. 

“I know,” she replied. “You two were not the parents of the year, but you tried.” 

“You always say what you really think, don’t you?”

“You taught me not to lie,” she fired back, “so it’s kinda your fault I’m not always saying what you want to hear.”

Michael shifted on the couch, so he was in a sitting position. “No doubt it is,” he agreed without complying, “and thank you. As a father, it’s good to know you don’t completely hate me.”

“I don’t think Jimmy hates you, either. What we said back then… We were just mad at you. It’s not easy to watch our dad walking away to a new family.” Tracey had never been this honest before, so Michael didn't even know what to respond as his daughter made him see this whole situation through her eyes. 

“It’s not like that, Trace. I’m here for you. I’ve always been, and I always will be here whenever you need me,” he eventually replied. Then, he heard someone opening and walking through the front doors, slamming them right behind their back.

“Is anyone home?” A familiar male voice spread through the mansion, and a few seconds later, Trevor stepped inside the living room. “There you two are.” 

“Trevor?” Michael blinked a few times since he could not believe his eyes. He looked at his daughter, then Trevor, and back at his daughter, not really knowing what was happening. “What is he doing here?”

“Well, I called Trevor since I couldn’t wake you for almost an hour,” Tracey explained, then got up from the couch. “I got scared, and neither mom nor Jim was picking up, so… Anyway, I’ll go upstairs now and grab my stuff, okay?”

“Go, princess,” Trevor spoke, then moved to open up the doors leading to the backyard, letting some fresh air inside. “Your father and I have some talking to do.”

Tracey did not hesitate, so a moment later, she was already off their sight while Trevor paced through the living room, looking at the mess around. 

“What the fuck, Michael? You look fucking terrible, and this smell? It’s as if you spent your days pouring out the whiskey around this place—What happened to your hand and this house?”

“What are you doing now, Trevor?” Michael let out a scoff. “Are you here to lecture me? You? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Your daughter called me asking for help because you got your fat ass drunk like hell, and she couldn’t wake you, idiot. If someone’s ridiculous here, it’s you, not me.” Trevor was serious as ever, if not angry at his friend at that point. “I’m gonna ask again, and you better answer me. What the fuck happened? You don’t return my calls, lock yourself in the walls of your mansion away from everyone, you children included, so you must have a damn good reason to do so.”

“What do you want me to say? You think it’s some sort of an intervention you’re doing right now, and I’ll open up like a damn book just so you satisfy your desire to find answers?” Michael felt a stingy pain in his head as he rapidly got up, then approached Trevor, so the other man heard him clearly. “I fucked up, and things went down. That’s it.”

“That I actually figured on my own,” Trevor fired back, not even bothered by his friend’s reaction. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Michael sighed, then returned to sitting on the couch as he felt somewhat dizzy. “You were fucking there, so you know what happened, Trevor,” he said the moment Tracey went downstairs with a bag in her hand, but she did not stop and just directed her steps straight towards the doors. 

“Bye uncle T! Bye dad!” she had shouted before she hurried out of the mansion, figuring out the conversation between Trevor and Michael was far from pleasant. 

“Phoebe doesn’t want to see me and threatens to take my daughter away from me,” Michael continued when he was sure Tracey was already outside. “The only person who might have actually loved me can’t even force herself to look at me. Do you need a description of how that feels or can you think for a second and be fucking empathetic?”

“I need you to get your shit together,” Trevor replied firmly. “Not for me, not even for Phoebe, but for your firstborn daughter, because I’ve known her since she was a baby, and I’ve never heard her that scared.”

Michael remained silent, which only encouraged Trevor to continue. 

“Shit, you got me fucking scared, too. It even crossed my mind you faked your death again, but I figured you must have some decency in yourself not to fool me twice the same way you did before,” Trevor folded his arms, then looked at his friend with pity as the other man could not help but chuckle quietly. “What’s so funny?”

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m glad my kids have you,” Michael told his friend once the smirk on his face vanished. “They can always count on his mentally unstable, utterly crazy uncle.” 

“I love your kids as if they were mine, sugar tits,” Trevor puffed, shaking his head slowly. “You know I always have.” 

“I know, and I’m grateful,” Michael returned, then brushed his face with his hands. “Last days were fucking terrible. I don’t know what to do anymore. Phoebe didn't return any of my calls. I… Maybe it’s a definite end?”

“You’re overdramatic and act as if you didn’t know how women work. She needs her fucking time and space, which is annoying, but she’s also pregnant with your baby. She will need you at some point, trust me, and until that, you have to get yourself together, so she won’t see you this miserable.”

“And how can you know that?”

“I have eyes, Mikey—”

“I’m not asking how I look,” Michael cut in, “but how can you know she will need me ever again?”

“As I said, I have eyes,” Trevor repeated, “and I saw how she looked at you after she had found out about you and Amanda, so I thought you two would have made up pretty quickly.”

“You thought wrong, then.” 

“I can’t always be right.”

Michael scoffed while Trevor joined him on the couch and patted his friend’s left thigh to comfort him. He did not have to say anything because Michael knew what the other man wanted to tell him just by the look he gave him a moment later. 

Of course, he knew. 

They had been friends for years, went through ups and downs together, but in the end, Michael forgot that the only person he had always could rely on was this crazy man beside him. 

“What happened to your hand?” Trevor asked after a while. “This dirty bandage doesn't look well.”

“I broke the mirror,” Michael replied in a matter of fact tone, “and probably a bone, but I’m not sure.” 

“The mirror? Damn,” Trevor chuckled. “Show me your hand,” he added, and Michael obeyed. He unwrapped the bandage carefully, then moved it in front of Trevor. “It’s not broken, just heavily bruised. Move your fingers, good, you’re fine. Do yourself a favour and next time, try destroying something else.” 

Trevor quickly looked around the living room. “This big as fuck portrait of Amanda can do it.” 

Once again, Michael could not help a laugh.


Phoebe focused on the baby and the baby only. 

The thought of her daughter feeling fine kept her going through the few rough days. It made it easier not to think about Michael and what he had done to them. 

She was angry at first.

However, the anger quickly transitioned into a grudge. From wanting to bellow, Phoebe went to doubting every decision she had made that brought her to that point, and to her misfortune, she tried to find the blame in herself, too.

It was easy to blame Michael for everything that had happened, but she could not shake the thought that, perhaps, she was also the guilty one. Was she not enough? Had she done something wrong? Maybe if she had tried harder, been better or acted wiser, Michael would not have searched for comfort in his ex-wife’s arms? 

She knew she should not have thought like that, but she did. She needed to make sense of the previous events and find a reason why her whole world collapsed there and then, and who was the one who started the one inevitable fall. 

The worst was ignoring Michael’s calls. He kept calling her like crazy, and, at some point, she wanted to pick up. 

She wanted to hear his voice, even if she knew it would also outrage her. She wanted to know he was fine, even if she also wanted him to go to hell. She wanted to tell him she loved him, even if he hurt her so deeply it was hard for her to breathe when she reminded herself of that damn picture of him and his ex-wife together. 

The truth was that she was still in love with him but did not want to make another mistake by following her heart, which led her astray so many times. The brain was a worse choice, but it was pragmatic, and that seemed to be just what she needed in her state. 

She needed peace and people she could rely on more than ever. 

“I know you weren't expecting to see me, but Amy had to go to work earlier today, so she asked me to check on you,” Max said when he came by the other day, and Phoebe invited him inside. “Hope you don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” she returned, closing the doors as Max entered, “but don’t you have work, too?” 

“My shift starts in two hours,” the man replied, walking with her to the kitchen as usual. For the past few days, Amy and Max were spending a lot of time with Phoebe, and, truth to be told, it was one of the reasons she was dealing so well with the whole situation. “I brought you sweets and tea.” 

“Ah, thank you. You and Amy are spoiling me,” Phoebe returned, taking the bag from him, then turned on the electric kettle and prepared two cups to make them something to drink. “What will it be today, Max?”

“Tea is fine,” he returned, then sat by the kitchen table and adjusted the sleeves of his grey hoodie. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. I mean, as good as I can at the moment. I’m trying not to stress so much, you know, for the baby,” she told him, and as she waited for the water to boil, she joined him by the table. “Thanks for asking and… Thanks for everything. I know you and Aims practically live here these days, but I haven’t had an opportunity to talk to you alone since the hospital, and I… I wanted to apologise for what happened.”

“You already apologised to me for that.”

“I know, but… I feel so bad for what Michael did, it’s… I’m so sorry,” Phoebe said, then looked at her growing belly. “You just wanted to help while Michael—”

“It’s not your fault,” Max cut in, then smiled at her gently. “By the way, have you heard from him lately?”

“He keeps calling me, but… I can’t force myself to pick up. I guess I’m not ready to talk to him,” she explained, and the second later, the kettle turned off. She got up to pour the boiling water into the cups, then placed them on the table, one cup next to Max, the other next to herself. “It’s complicated.” 

Max was silent for a long while, watching the steam coming up from the cup. “I know it ain’t my business, but are you considering, you know, forgiving him?”

Phoebe shrugged, then instinctively rubbed her belly. 

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I guess I have a lot of thinking ahead of me, and I must remember I’m not making decisions only for myself anymore. Why are you asking me about it?”

“I don’t know… I saw how much this whole situation cost you, so I guess I was just curious,” Max told her, then he added: “He doesn’t deserve you.” 

“You sound just like my brother,” Phoebe smiled gently. 

“I mean it, Phoebe. You deserve someone who will always treat you as a priority, and by that, I mean no ex-wife or any other woman on the side.” Max moved his eyes from his tea to her, and their eyes met. That moment did not last long, though, as soon her phone rang, and she had to go to the bedroom to get it. 

“Excuse me,” she said, walking outside the kitchen in a hurry, then disappeared into her bedroom. It took her a while to find the phone in her messy bed, and once she eventually did, it was no one else but Michael calling her again. “Speaking of the devil,” she stated, then declined the call. 

She returned to Max a few seconds later, and the man was already sipping on his tea. 

“It’s delicious,” he told Phoebe when she returned to the chair she had been sitting on earlier. “Is this the one Amy brought yesterday? Vanilla and cinnamon?”

“Exactly,” she responded, then once she blew on the tea to cool it down, she took a few sips. “She and I once drank wine, but now we have to do with tea for a few more months.” 

“It’s closer than further by now,” Max replied, then once again, he gave Phoebe a look. “I meant what I said, Phoebe. Michael, he… He’s gonna do you more harm than good. I know the type, trust me.”

“How so?”

“Let’s say I have an experience, but I don’t want to go into details. I bet these stories are too long and boring for anyone to listen to, but the moral is that people like him often bring trouble along.”

“You might have a point.” Phoebe sighed, then took another sip of her tea. “I just… I don’t know… The more I think about it, the less I know.”

“And what is your gut telling you?”

“It’s—” She started but did not finish as the second she started speaking, her vision got slightly blurred, and she felt sick. “Max, something—Something’s wrong, I—” She tried to explain what was going on, but she was getting more inert, and her tongue did not want to cooperate. 

She glanced at Max, hoping he would do something to help, but instead, he ignored her. He seemed indifferent as he approached and held her right before she lost her balance and nearly fell off the chair.

“Everything is fine, Phoebe." His voice was so calm it was frightening as he spoke to her ear seconds before her vision went black. “Everything is going according to the plan.”

Notes:

Hi, everyone! Long time no cliffhanger, huh? 😅

Here's hoping I will manage to post the next chapter relatively soon, but no promises. Life's been hectic lately, so for now, I'm pretty happy I managed to post this chapter sooner than I posted the last two updates. 😬

About this chapter... I'm so curious to read what your thoughts are, so please, feel free to share your opinion with me!

Also, I would like to thank all of you for reading. It means a lot to see you reading, leaving kudos or commenting. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for that. 😊

Chapter 36: Do You Love Her?

Notes:

Hi guys, I would like to let you know that in this chapter there will be a description of violence - it's not super detailed, but still - so please, be aware of it before you start reading (I also updated the tags, but thought it would be good to let you know here, too).

Thanks, and I hope you enjoy this update!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

After Phoebe had opened her eyes, everything was blurred.

Her head was pounding and felt unimaginably heavy while her eyes adjusted to the weak sunlight. She was feeling sick as whatever was in the tea she had drunk made her feel nauseous, but the worst was the panic, which was overwhelming her with every passing second.

She tried to move, but it was impossible; her hands were tied behind the chair she sat on. She tried to scream, but she could not make a sound, and her breathing intensified as she examined the space around her. 

White walls, wooden table, the brown rug next to the matching counters… The sink, the oven… The soft beige curtain next to the window… It was a kitchen or someplace that looked like one. Phoebe had no doubt about it, but it did not seem to change anything as she still had no idea where she was exactly. What had happened to her and what she was supposed to do in that situation was a mystery, too. 

However, it did not take her long to figure out that, wherever she was, she was not there alone. 

“You’re awake.” Phoebe heard Max’s voice after a short while, then figured he had been standing behind her for some time. He walked in front of her slowly, his facial expression cold and indifferent like never before. “Easy, Phoebe. Do I need to remind you that you’re pregnant and stress is not good for the baby?”

The baby. 

For a moment that felt like a blink of an eye, Phoebe forgot the precious, little heart beating under hers, and when she moved her eyes down to her belly, she barely stopped the tears. 

”I mean no harm to her,” Max said, then he pulled a chair from the table and placed it in front of Phoebe. “I’m not a monster.”

She did not say anything in response, but a glare she sent him right after was more meaningful than any word she could have said. 

“If you play along, nothing’s gonna happen to your baby.” Max’s voice was icy, which only made his appearance scarier. He sat in front of Phoebe and then held out his right hand to rub her belly with a pointing finger. “Trust me, Phoebe.”

“Where are we? Why did you tie me to a chair?” She ignored his promise, doubting whether he truly meant his words. “Let me go!”

“I can’t,” Max returned, withdrawing his hand from her belly. She tried to move her legs, but they were tied to the chair legs.

“What the hell, Max?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions,” Max replied, then moved his hand to her chin and held it between his thumb and pointing finger. “All in time, Phoebe. You will get your answers, but now, be a good girl and play along.”

He withdrew his hand, then quickly reached into his pocket and pulled her mobile out. 

“Let me call the baby daddy, okay? Oh, you still have a heart added to his contact. Cute. Does he have a heart next to your name, too?”

“What are you—”

“Shut up. Don’t say a word unless I tell you to do so,” Max commanded, then sent her a warning look. He called Michael’s number, put the phone on speaker and waited.

Beep… Beep… Beep…

“Phoebe? I’ve been trying to call you for days—” Michael started right after he had picked up, not having a clue Max was not planning to let him talk for long.

“Hi, Michael. I hate to disappoint you, but it’s Max speaking,” Max cut him off a second later, then grinned mischievously at the girl in front of him. “Phoebe can’t really talk right now, but she’s listening, so pick your words wisely this time.” 

“What?” Michael sounded surprised for a moment. “Where’s she? Don’t fuck with me, asshole.” 

“I’m not,” Max returned, then stood up and walked behind the girl. “She’s here with me, tied to the chair, scared to the bone, and you know what? I haven’t even started doing anything.”

Michael remained silent for a while, which was an opportunity for Max to continue his monologue.

“I guess you’re processing what’s going on and whether it’s not some stupid joke. It’s not,” Max carried on. “Let me explain it to you, okay? Where to start… Oh, right. Some time ago, you and Philips were in Sandy Shores, correct? It was unfortunate your friend messed up with the wrong people at the time, and you, a knight in a fucking shining armour, had to clean up the mess.” He paused for a moment, and for a few seconds, he searched for something in one of the kitchen drawers. “You did what you had to, didn’t you? Isn’t that always the excuse you feed yourself and the others with? Well, maybe sometimes it is true, but was it true that particular time?”

“What are you talk—”

“I’m getting to the point, Michael. So, while you were running around, cleaning the mess your psychotic friend had made, you hurt someone I deeply cared about. My brother.” Max did not let Michael interrupt. “You had no idea about that, did you?” Another pause followed. “Well, now you know. Phoebe knows, too. That day, you took something away from me, so why wouldn’t I take something away from you, too? You know, just so we’re equal.”

“Listen to me, asshole, if you touch her—”

“Then what? What are you gonna do about it?” Max scoffed, and then, holding a knife in his hand, he moved to Phoebe. “Before you reply, you might want to listen to this,” he added, and without hesitation, he stuck a knife in her left thigh. 

She did not cry; she wailed as the pain was sharp and spread through the length of her leg as the blade cut her jeans and skin with no effort. Her body trembled in response, but it did not make a difference; she was still in the same position, and the rope on her ankles or wrists did not loosen up.

The tears streamed down her cheeks, but she could not hold back her cries as it hurt more than she could take, even if she badly wanted to just so Michael did not have to listen to it.

Michael.

She should not have thought of him, but despite everything, she did.

“I stabbed her thigh,” Max said in a matter-of-fact tone when her cries quietened. "Just so you know, I'm not joking.”

“You did what?! Phoebe, baby, can you hear me? It’s gonna be alright, I swear,” Michael replied, hoping she would hear him. “It’s gonna be alright—”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Max laughed, then moved the knife gently, causing Phoebe to cry louder again. “Let me ask something I've been dying to ask you for some time now.”

“What?” There was a rage in Michael’s voice at this point, which only seemed to encourage Max to be even bolder in his actions. 

“Do you love her? But, like, do you really love her? If so, you have an hour to get to the address I’m gonna send you. If you don’t… I don’t want to spoil the element of surprise, but you both won’t like it, and it's a promise I intend to keep.” 

“Just try—”

“Don’t even try threatening me because I have the upper hand. You’re gonna do what I tell you to do, and here is how it goes. You get your ass to the address I send you, all alone, no stupid ideas, no fucking Philips or anyone else.” Max’s tone was icy. “Oh, and if I were you, I would check on, what’s her name, Tracey? A little girl might be in trouble, too.”

“You—You will regret this.”

“You never learn, do you?” Max asked while Phoebe whined again as he slightly moved the knife. “Stop threatening me, and remember the clock’s ticking,” he added, then, before Michael could reply, he hung up. 

“It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“You’re a damn psychopath,” Phoebe managed to say through the tears. “D-don’t pull it out,” she protested when Max took another step toward her after he had sent a text from her phone to Michael. “Please—”

“I won’t. I don’t want you to get hurt, but Michael had to believe I might,” Max told her. “Besides, I missed the artery, Phoebe. You should be grateful.”

“Grateful?”

“If you think I missed it by accident, you’re naive,” he replied, then pondered for a moment, looking carefully at her. “Actually, you’re naive, but not because of thinking I didn't miss it on purpose. You’ve been naive since the start, thinking your love story with de Santa could’ve had any other ending than the tragic one.”

Phoebe wanted to reply, but before she had found words, he was gone.

She did not know how long it would take Max to return to her, but she was sure he would; it was also the time when she realised she was nothing but bait.

At last, things seemed to make sense, starting from the evening she met Max, his friendly behaviour and all the effort he made to drag her away from Michael… Everything was, indeed, going according to the plan, the crazy plan Max had in his mind. 

She sobbed; she could not stop crying, but not because of the pain.

She was afraid.

She was afraid Max would not miss the next time and that he was right.

Had she been naive from the start?


Michael’s world fell apart many times, but that time, it tumbled down like a house of cards, and he was not ready for that.

He was not ready for the force it hit him with and that he would crumble into pieces when he heard Phoebe’s voice on the phone. 

For the first seconds, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but when he received a text with an address from Max, he was sure it was not just in his head. It was not a bad dream, no matter how much Michael would have wanted it to be one. 

He could not catch a breath, not to mention gather his thoughts, so he started pacing back and forth in his kitchen. Not that it helped much, but his breath got even, and he forced himself to think for a while; think of anything he could do to save Phoebe from the arms of another psychopath she had to face.

If it was not enough that Phoebe was in danger, she was in one because of him.

He cursed as he nervously checked the time and realised the more time he stayed in the mansion, the less time he had to act. If what he had heard on the phone was true and Max hurt Phoebe... If he did it once…

Michael did not want to think of what could possibly happen. 

He needed a plan.

He needed a plan because he also figured he could not be in two places at one time, and if Max was not just teasing him, his firstborn daughter could be in danger, too. 

“You already miss me, sugar tits?” Michael heard on the phone as he knew no better person to call in this situation than Trevor.

“I need you to find Tracey.” Michael did not have time to waste, so he went straight to the point. “Find her, and don’t let a single hair fall from her head. Can you do this for me?”

“Can I do this for you? Of course, I can, but what the fuck are you talking about?” Trevor could not hide his surprise. “A few words of the context would be helpful.” 

“I don’t have time to explain this to you right now, but my daughter might be in trouble,” Michael fired back, and in the meantime, he started searching for his car keys. “I just got a call, Tracey and Phoebe—I fucked up, and they might be in big trouble.”

“Wait, wait, you need to be more specific,” Trevor told him, and it seemed as if he was really listening to Michael this time. “What exactly happened?”

“This douchebag, Max--He is threatening Tracey, and he has Phoebe.”

“What do you mean by “ he has Phoebe” ?” 

“He kidnapped her? Did she follow him somewhere? I have no fucking idea, Trevor. I just listened—I have to find her. I can’t let anything happen to her.” Michael could not say these words out loud, so he skipped the details. “Remember Sandy Shores? I mean, your big fuck up from a few months ago? This is revenge for what I did to them. For what we did to them.”

“Wait, I don’t get—Was Max there?”

“I guess? I don’t know, Trevor, but there was his brother, and he did not make it,” Michael returned. “He hurt Phoebe. He wants to hurt Tracey, I… Fuck!”

“Calm down,” Trevor murmured as the pieces of information his friend shared with him slowly started to come together. “What does Max want?”

“Me. He wants me to come to some address in Sandy Shores.” 

“Alright, so let me quickly grab Trace, and we’ll go—”

“He wants me to come alone,” Michael cut in. “He has her, Trevor. He has Phoebe and our daughter, so I can’t risk--I just… Go get Trace, tell her I’m sorry and make sure she’s safe. That’s the only thing I ask you to do.” 

“No, listen, I’m gonna do get Trace and then—” Michael did not hear more as, after saying what he got, he put the phone in his pocket, and holding the car keys in his hand, he hurried outside the mansion.


There were only two audible sounds in the modestly furnished kitchen in Townley’s house - the hands of the clock and the hisses of a young boy with a bruised face. 

“It could’ve been worse,” an older man said, then moved away to look at his almost eighteen-year-old son with disapproval. “It doesn’t hurt that much. No need to fucking cry like a baby because someone kicked your ass.” 

“I want mom to do this,” the boy whined and winced when his father placed a gauze with alcohol on his cut. “Fuck—”

“Language, Michael,” the other man returned in a patronising tone. “Your mother can’t see you like this. You’re her precious boy, so she doesn’t know how reckless you are.”

“The girl you’re banging ain’t worth getting your face beaten up.” On the old man’s face, there was no sign of anger, which made his son slightly anxious because that was not what he had expected; he did not expect his father to know. “What? You thought no one knew? You aren’t discreet, son.”

Michael did not reply as he knew whatever he would have said, it wouldn’t matter. 

Besides, his father had a point. 

He was not discreet, and it was a matter of time before the truth would have come to light.

“Well, I guess it should eventually teach you that every action has a consequence. Even if you think it won't have any, it will,” the man continued his monologue, still cleaning up Michael’s cut. “Everything you do, you’re responsible for. You might not see it that way just yet, because you’ve got me cleaning up your mess, but I won’t be doing it forever. I raised you to be a man, not some spoiled brat who goes around and fucks other men’s girlfriends.” 

“She doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Michael returned, grimacing as his cut stung a lot. “They broke up a while ago.”

“Does this guy know that?” Michael’s father mocked. “He was the one who got you like this, wasn’t he?”

Michael did not reply, but his silence only confirmed the other man’s assumption. 

“The girl has a nerve, I admit,” he continued, “while you, my son, have a lot to learn.” 

“Does it mean I’m grounded?” Michael dared to ask, then watched his father cleaning up the gauzes and putting a bottle of spirit back into the kitchen cabinet. His fingers moved to the wound and examined the sensitive place around it as he waited for the response. “Dad?”

“No, that would be too easy. You’re gonna clean the mess from this point, starting by explaining why you look like this to your mother. Tell her what you did.”

“You just said she can’t see me like this,” the boy returned, making the man smile.

“If she saw you with me, I would be the one explaining what happened to you to her while it’s not going to teach you anything. You’re going to get a shower, change your clothes and go tell her what happened to your pretty face and why it happened,” he told Michael. “After that, you’re grounded. Next time, be more discreet or big enough to clean the mess you make.”

“But--”

“No, buts. Take the responsibility, Michael. It’s time for you to be the man your mother and I raised you to be,” he patted his son’s arm. 

“In other words, it's time to start facing the consequences.” 

Notes:

Thank you very much for reading and sticking around - it means a lot!

Chapter 37: Ricochet

Notes:

Hi, guys!

Again, I would like to let you know that in this chapter, there is a description of violence (it's still not super detailed, but please be aware of it before you start reading).

I usually don't write much in chapter notes, but I will let myself add that this chapter can be described by one word - chaotic... I think it suits this chapter best. 😅

Still, I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter Text

“Damn you, Townley,” Trevor murmured, speeding through the streets of Los Santos in his Bodhi, furious at his best friend for ignoring his further calls.

The last thing he wanted was for Michael to get into even bigger trouble, but it was just what his friend was doing; Michael acted recklessly under pressure, not spending a minute to think of a plan that might work, which frustrated Trevor to his limits. 

“Damn you and your stupid ideas,” Trevor continued murmuring under his breath despite no one being around - especially not the person who should have heard his words.

“You said to me that you’d lost the only person who loved you, Michael, but this is a fucking bullshit! I loved you! I’ve always loved you because you are like a brother to me—UGH, fuck this!” He tossed his phone to the side, so it hit the passenger doors. “You are also the biggest idiot I’ve ever dealt with!”

He then stopped at the red light, barely holding himself back from shaking. 

He was so angry that he could not even make coherent sentences anymore, but there was one thing Trevor knew - despite the overwhelming fury, he had to find Michael’s daughter. 

He remembered the day when Michael found out Amanda was pregnant with Tracey as if it was yesterday; he remembered how scared his friend had been, but it was nothing compared to how terrified Michael had sounded on the phone a few minutes earlier. 

It seemed to be a different Michael, and the surname was not the only difference Trevor noticed - Michael from over twenty years ago was not aware of the consequences. 

However, after over twenty years, Michael knew them damn too well. 

Perhaps, being a father taught him all about the consequences; from the second he became one, everything was doing did not only affect him anymore. 

Since Tracey's birth, he was a father first and foremost.

Trevor understood it, but that sudden change of priorities was something he could not get used to. In a way, it was also something he was jealous of for years; Michael had a family, a decent wife and kids… Something Trevor had always wanted but never got for himself. 

Perhaps it was why he started treating Michael’s kids as if they were his own - being uncle Trevor was a substitute for having kids of his own and the way to stay in Michael’s life despite changing circumstances.

Also, the other truth was that Trevor needed Michael to need him. 

He needed his friend’s presence in his life because Michael was the only person who got him. The only person who saw more under the surface of a crazy sociopath others could not get through.

They had known each other for decades, so Michael knew real Trevor, no matter how ridiculous that could sound.

And Trevor knew Michael, the one hidden behind the facade made of stolen money and unhappy marriage. 

Therefore, if there was one thing Trevor was sure of, it was that Michael had never loved anyone more than his children, so Max was aiming at the most vulnerable spot. 

There was also Daniel’s sister, Phoebe, and for some reason, he loved her, too.

Somehow, Trevor had no doubts Michael did; he had never seen his friend as invested in a relationship, not even his marriage - he was crazy about her; crazy enough to risk everything he had to have her. 

However, at the end of the day, he was also reckless enough to ruin everything and put the lives of everyone he cared for at risk. 

Well, almost everyone but Trevor could no longer let himself dwell, because he arrived in front of Michael’s mansion just in time to see his daughter crying on the staircase. 

Tracey was sitting in a short denim dress with a pink crop top, holding her scuffed knees close to her chest.

She looked up after she had noticed Trevor getting out of his car and shutting the doors behind his back, then watched the man hurrying straight to her.

“Tracey?” Trevor asked right away once he crouched next to her. “What happened?”

“The men c-came. Trevor—” She sobbed louder while he tried to understand the words she mumbled. “Two men came—and they—they said—”

“Slow down,” he cut in, seeing how jittery she was. “Take a few deep breaths and tell me what happened.” 

She did not take a few deep breaths; instead, she choked on her sobs for a bit longer. “Trace, please—”

“They came… I was about to go—shopping and… One of them grabbed me—” She started saying in a trembling voice. “They told me—they told me that it’s the price—they gonna make dad pay—”

“Fuck, Tracey… Did they… What did they do to you?” Trevor did not know what words to use, but it was pretty clear what he was trying to ask her. 

“They were violent, and one of them punched me, so I fell, but they didn’t… That’s all they did.” She could not hold back tears, so they kept streaming down her face. “What’s going on… Where’s dad…”

“Don’t worry about him right now, alright? He will be fine.” Trevor did not know why he had said it, because he had no certainty Michael would be fine, but he also could not stand the horror on his daughter’s face.

“Come here.” He wrapped his arm around Tracey once he sat beside her on the stairs.

She hesitated for a second before she placed her head on his left shoulder, letting her tears fall on his red checkered shirt.

“You're safe now."

She did not respond, which caused Trevor to feel an ugly sting in his heart.

He did not manage to get to her on time, and, as a result, she got hurt; he did not get to keep the word he had given to Michael that not a single hair would not fall off his daughter’s head, either.

He failed at that promise despite his best efforts not to. 

He did all he could, though; not that it was comforting, but it helped him swallow the bitterness of failure and to understand Tracey was just the distraction.

The danger was still out there and so was Max, waiting for Michael to make another mistake.

However, that mistake Trevor hoped he still had a chance to prevent.


Once the tears dried on her face, Phoebe understood they were for nothing. 

There was no point in crying as no amount of tears could have helped her in such a hopeless situation.

Minutes seemed to last forever as she sat in that room, surrounded only by the four walls of her loneliness and fear, without perspective to get out of this situation anytime soon.

After hurting her, Max did not return to keep her company, but she heard the sound of his footsteps spreading through the house. 

Perhaps, his absence was for the better as Phoebe did not want anyone to see her like this; vulnerable and miserable, and what was the worst - at the mercy of another person. 

At the end of the day, just like every human, she had her pride. 

However, her pride could not save her from bleeding out on that chair as the blood was still slowly running down her thigh. It was not as bad as it could have been if Max had pulled the knife out of the wound, but it was not good, either. 

“Max?” Phoebe called weakly as her throat was dry. “Max!”

“Yes?” The man walked into the room a moment later, holding a bandage in his hand. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel well,” she told him when he kneeled beside her to examine her wound. “I feel like passing out, actually.” 

“Good thing is that Michael only has 15 minutes more to get here,” Max returned, his voice disturbingly calm considering the circumstances. “Once he’s here, I’ll think of letting you go. I bet you don’t want to witness what happens next."

“If there’s something I don’t want, it’s someone else getting hurt,” Phoebe stated weakly. “Please, Max… Whatever you’re planning on doing… It’s not gonna bring your brother back to life. It’s… It’s not gonna fix anything.”

“I know, but I can’t let it go… I just can’t.” His voice sounded honest as he spoke, and he started to put the bandage tightly around the wound. “Do you know what it feels like to lose someone close?”

“I lost both of my parents, so I think… I think I can imagine what it feels like.” She took a deep breath. “I also know that no matter what I do… It won’t bring them back. I can be mad. I can be furious, but it doesn’t change anything. It’s… What matters is what is now. For me, it’s the baby…”

“Cut this sappy talk, Phoebe. You have your baby, fine, but it doesn’t ease my pain. It’s not my baby, but it was my brother.” He paused. “You have no idea how it feels. My brother was my best friend, and he… He bled out on me.” 

Phoebe squeezed her eyes as the jolt of pain came through her leg, and the tears fell on her cheeks right after he finished bandaging her thigh. “For what it’s worth,” she managed to say through gritted teeth, “I’m so sorry.” 

Max did not respond to her.

Not at first, at least. 

He stared at her for a long while, and she did not really know why his eyes could not get off her. “It was never about you, Phoebe. It’s nothing personal, and it never was,” he said eventually. “It’s about what Michael did, while you… You just got hit by a ricochet.”

“I know it’s not comforting,” he continued, seeing the confused expression on her face, “but you and your baby are gonna be fine. I can’t promise you that because of what I already did, but I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Is this what you are telling yourself? You didn’t want to hurt me or my baby?” There was something bitter in Phoebe’s voice, but except bitterness, there was also anger. “I don’t believe you. You planned this whole thing, pretended to be a friend while you’ve been an enemy from the very start.”

“The night we met... I was a mess because I found out Michael cheated on me. He crawled back to his wife after he’d found out I was pregnant… Not that I wasn’t to blame, because I didn’t tell him about it immediately, but… His reaction was just what I was expecting,” she swallowed, then winced as the pain was not lessening. “You were there, and I thought… I could trust you, especially after you’d taken me to the hospital.” 

“Any decent man would’ve helped you,” Max returned. “What I did wasn’t anything exceptional. It was just decent.”

“It was decent enough to make me trust you,” Phoebe admitted, then again realized how foolish she had been. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I keep on trusting the wrong people.”

“The problem is not in you.” He moved as his legs began to go numb from staying in the same position for too long, but he was still crouching next to her. “It’s rather in those people.”

“I trusted you, Max. I trusted Michael…”

“No,” he had cut in before she could finish her sentence. “You still trust him, and, what’s worse, you still love him. After everything he’s done, you still do. It’s not surprising, though. You’re having his baby.”

“Maybe, but... I don’t think he loves me back.” Phoebe did not know why the tears streamed down her face, but then it hit her; she had never admitted this to herself, not to mention to anyone else, but it was how she truly felt. “I think I was fooling myself thinking I could replace his wife. She… She knows him better than I do, and... She wants him back.” 

“I guess the question is whether he wants her, too,” Max smiled gently, reaching his hand to her face to wipe the tears away from her right cheek. “We will see who Michael prefers in less than ten minutes, right? I think he will come.”

“He has a lot to lose if he doesn’t.” He then placed his other hand on her belly, but she was not listening to him anymore. “Phoebe?”

“I… I don't feel good,” Phoebe had said before her head involuntarily fell down, and the blood pool right under the chair expanded a bit further.


Michael knew the risk, but he was desperate.

He needed to get to the address Max had sent to him fast, so he skipped thinking his plan through and improvised. Not that his plan would have been complicated if he had thought about it for more time — it was supposed to be simple from the start.

He had to get to the place, find Phoebe and take her out of there before that psychopath she was with would do her more harm. 

How hard could it be?

Michael was a professional at his job, but what he was about to do was different. It also did not seem hard until he reached the house Phoebe was kept supposed to be kept in and understood there was no room for mistakes - and considering Michael had not thought his plan through, there were potentially dozens of mistakes he could make.

He cursed under his breath while he got out of the car, holding a loaded nine-millimetre semi-automatic in his right hand. 

The stakes were high, so he could not mess this up. 

He had to stay focused and calm, but he was also full of fear - not for his life, but for Phoebe's and their girl. That fear consumed him, making him unable to think about anything but her and the way to get her out of that place fast, no matter the cost. 

The front doors were ajar, which confused him at first; it was too easy. 

Did Max take the trouble to lure him here, only to have him enter through the main entrance without the slightest effort? 

It did not make any sense to Michael, but he couldn't care less about Max’s motives back then.

He sneaked inside the building and started creeping towards muted sounds coming from one of the rooms without letting his guard down for a second.

The sound he was following reminded him of a whine, and it made Michael imagine the worst scenarios in his head. However, none of the scenarios did prepare him for what he saw once he entered the kitchen.

Phoebe was barely sitting in the chair (if it was not for the rope she had her hands tied with behind the back of the chair, she would have fallen on the floor); she was pale on the face, and the bandage on her left thigh was soaked with blood. 

Michael thought he had seen everything, so nothing could surprise him; however, nothing he had ever seen broke his heart the way it did. 

It was the consequence of his recklessness.

“Phoebe? I… I’m here.” He had put the gun behind his trousers before he kneeled next to her to gently cup her face. “Phoebe?”

“B-baby.” Phoebe’s voice was barely audible as she looked up from her belly. “Please… Don’t let him hurt her…”

“I won’t let him hurt her, Phoebe. I won’t let… I’m gonna get you two out of here, alright?” Michael moved behind the chair to untie her hands. Once he was done, he returned in front of her to work on the knots on her ankles. “I… I’m here now. I got you…”

“It’s my fault, Michael. Everything’s my fault,” Phoebe told him quietly, trying to keep her eyes open despite the pain; she was cold and tired, and there was nothing she wanted more than all those feelings to go away. “You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t…”

“It’s not your fault. Nothing’s your fault, Phoebe,” Michael said, and at the same time, he got rid of the rope from both of her legs and held her, so she would not fall on him. “You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t mess up in the first place. It’s the truth.”

“What did he do to you?” he asked, moving his eyes to the wound on her thigh; but before Phoebe could reply, another voice reached Michael’s ears from behind.

“I already told you I’d stabbed her,” Max spoke, keeping the other man at gunpoint. “Hands up, Michael, and before you reach for your gun, I promise I’ll manage to shoot her first.” 

A shiver of terror went through Michael as he did not have much choice; what could go wrong just did, so he followed Max's command, then let the man approach him from behind to unarm him.

“They say love is blindness, but did it really blind you so much that you could not see me in the corner of the room?” Max mocked. “Well, at least we all know you love her.”

“Max, please…” Phoebe tried to intervene, but no one paid attention to her at that moment. 

“You wanted me to come, so I’m here. Let her go now,” Michael said through gritted teeth, trying to keep his cool. “She needs to go to the hospital.” 

“Not before I’m done with you,” Max fired back, moving his pointing finger to the trigger of his gun. 

“She’s gonna bleed—”

“Well, you’re right. Let’s make it quick then,” Max interjected, intending to pull the trigger right after, but got interrupted by some stranger’s voice and a shot that followed. 

Everything that happened after the bullet hit the gun Max was holding in his hand was like an avalanche - rapid and unexpected - and even if Max did not recognise the voice that spread through the room, both Michael and Phoebe did; it belonged to Daniel. 

Max’s gun hit the floor, but it slipped everyone’s attention that he had Michael’s gun in the other hand, ready to shoot. 

Therefore, right before the other men reacted, Max already had it pointed at Phoebe. 

Then, without any hesitation, he once again pulled the trigger. 

NO!!!” Daniel roared, then chased Max to the front doors, trying to shoot a few bullets at him, but he missed. 

None of the bullets did manage to reach the other man as he was fast, quickly got into some car on the street and rode away, leaving nothing but the smoke from burnt tires behind. 

There was no point in chasing him; he was already out of the reach, and Daniel knew it.

Besides, his sister needed him; at that moment, she needed him more than ever.

Therefore, he quickly returned to the kitchen, but what he saw made him unable to move at first.

Time slowed for those few seconds while he was processing the situation in which Phoebe was hovering over Michael, trying to keep pressure on the bullet wound in the upper part of his chest. 

"Stay with me... Stay with me..." She kept repeating while the blood was slowly seeping from under her hands; and the longer Daniel debated which one to help, the less time they all had.