Michael had begged me to talk to him when he had found me. I had told him that I would, that it was time for him to know everything. But not until we were home, where I felt safest, at least before I lost the home my father had offered me.
So that is where we are walking to now, his hand around my waist, holding me up gently against him as I fight within myself to break free of the emotions that promise to engulf me once more. The old leaves of baren trees are gently swaying in the cold breeze and I can hear them crunch under our feet. I can feel the heat of Michael's breath on my cheek as he gently guides me towards home; it comes out ragged thanks to the cold.
I feel so helpless, not being able to speak, not being able to contain my emotions anymore. I honestly do not know what has happened to me. When all of this had happened, when I had met Michael, he was but a simple person mixed in a world of other people like him. All involved with their lives, never truly knowing what loss was, what death could do to your soul--I had always thought of Michael as weak.
What was I to know?
I had recently had my heart split in two, I had lost the most important adult in my life, and I had been left in the world with a curiosity that nearly ate me whole for something that barely had a chance to live. And now here was the weak Michael that I had met, steadily guiding me through all the webs of doubt, deceit, loss that had been spun around the red string of my life.
Was he sent to be my protector? It felt like it, he felt like the Romeo to my Juliet, like the Aladdin to my Jasmine--so magical, so unreal; yet so deadly. He was the one who lifted me from my emotionless stupor, the one that reminded me of how it was to feel again, of how it was to hurt again. He is my reminder, that the world goes on, despite of what is happening on the inside of my heart.
He doesn't notice or suspects anything as my idea of him changes into something more inconceivable than something so simple as love.
We reach my house and I feel him stiffen his hold on me and I look up to something that makes my stomach instantly do a complete 180 from the feeling of calm I had been having not too long ago.
Tommy's car sits in our driveway, but there is no Tommy in sight. Meaning that he has to be--
"We don't have to go in if you don't feel ready." Michael says, he is upfront about his contempt for Tommy.
"I want to go somewhere else," I whisper, Michael knows me well.
He nods and we begin to cross over to his house when Pamela opens the door to my house, "Jenna! There you are! You have a visitor!"
I whimper and turn around, away from Michael, "Okay." I know I am barely audible, but I don't care. I look behind me at Michael, "I love you."
He mouths I love you too and watches patiently, but with a slight twitch of his hand as I walk towards my house barely breaking eye contact.
I reach my house and take a deep breath in, pretending to be strong once more.
So much for my safe haven.
I walk through the door and prepare myself. The last time I had seen Tommy had been a month or so ago and I had barely restrained myself then, I wonder what story he has prepared for me today.