With Michael

Chapter 33 - Lisa

24th of March, 1994
Brooklyn is 28, Janet is 27, and Michael is 35

Michael: Brooke tightened the blanket around her as I walked into the bedroom.

She's been hiding, grieving, again. It hurt me to see her like that.

The weird thing was, she hasn't shed any tears. Not a single one.

I kicked off my loafers and got into bed next to her.

Wrapping my arm around her, I inhaled her scent.

"Are you still in pain?" I asked.

Brooklyn tried escaping my hold, but failed.

"Michael... Please..."

"Don't push me away again." I whispered.

She only sighed and hid her face under the covers.

"Are you still in pain?" I asked again, still concerned about her physical state.
After the operation she went through, she kept showing signs of discomfort.

"Not really," she said. "Can I go take a shower?"

I unwillingly let her go and watched as she closed our bathroom door.

Closing my eyes, I decided to go see Janet.

~

Brooklyn: I stood in front of the full-length mirror, examining my naked body.

I've gotten curvier and my thighs were thicker. God, I hated myself so much.

Not only my body changed due the pregnancies, but I also didn't understand how Michael could still bear with me.

He wants children. No, he needs children. Maybe I'm just not the woman to give him that.

I twisted my face when another wave of pain went through my lower abdomen.

Boy, how awful I felt about losing another baby. I also had this feeling like God was testing me. He gave my best friend a baby, a healthy baby, when she didn't even want it. While I tried so hard to give my husband one.

I looked away from myself and turned on the shower.

I didn't even realize I was staring at the wall as the water were running. My mind was absolutely numb.

The thought of never giving Michael children crept in again, making a tear slide down my cheek. It was followed by many more as I slid down the shower wall and finally let all my emotions out.

~

Janet: "Oh, my God. You got a kicker in there, Dunk." Michael said, pressing his big hands a bit more into the sensitive skin of my stomach.

I forced a smile and leaned back.

All I wanted to do was ask how Brooke was doing, but I couldn't find the courage to.

I would probably make unwanted emotions burst out of him.

Soon my brother's soft hands became a discomfort, so I gently pushed them off.

Do it. Ask him, get it over with.

"How is she?" I managed to say.

"In pain," he looked away. "She's pushing me away again, I don't know what do to."

Finally I understood his frustration, since she was pushing me away as well. Even though it made sense, I couldn't help but feel hurt.

I pulled Michael into a hug. His tears fell onto my shoulder, making me hug him tighter.