At First Sight

What Ifs and Right Nows

"Michael, wait!" Sara called after him desperately as she stumbled out of the restaurant doors. He took long determined strides down the street, his jacket flying open and the wind pressing his shirt to his chest. His tie flew over his shoulder and flailed beside his head.

Sara got lost in the crowd as her tiny frame was bumped from side to side, slowing her progress. Her desperate calls went unheard as the wind pelted back into her face; her hair like horizontal twirls hanging in the air. She pushed past people and was met with disgusted cries, but she soldiered on.

At a cross roads he stopped, bouncing on his toes and rubbing his thumbs against his fingers roughly in clenched fists. His jaw twitched and his teeth ached under the pressure he was exerting on them as he pressed them harder together. "Michael," she called again, closing the gap. His eyes slid to the side of his head, noticing her advances before focusing forward when the lights changed.

Sara stepped into the crossing crowd, half walking and half being carried by the sheer number of people. She fought against the torrent of people when Michael steered left and they carried her right. Shaking the hair from her face and she freed herself from their grasp, her eyes scanned the area for Michael. Panting hard with exertion she noticed his shaven head above the rest of the stack of domino like individuals as he turned a corner.

Sara skipped into a jog as she headed for him. The corner bounced closer to her and she skidded to a stop when she collided with him. He took her by the shoulders, lowered his head to look into her eyes and she felt relieved for his touch. His eyes were full of sadness and betrayal and his voice was raspy and full of crushed emotion as he whispered, "Please stop following me."

Sara's face felt hot as the tears welled in her eyes. They stung her skin as they flowed down her cheeks and she shook herself from his grasp, wiping her face with a sniff. Michael looked at her for what seemed like an eternity, thoughts raging through his mind and images of her and Lincoln flashing before his eyes. The way they laughed together, the way he looked at her and she looked at him. It made him sick to his stomach.

"Michael, please," she pleaded with a cracking voice as he turned to leave once more. He turned but didn't stop, walking backwards down the street as he faced her.

"I said stop following me," he waved his hands on every word before facing front and storming off once more. Sara sighed, beaten and slid down against the wall of the corner. Her body shook with misery as she cried, each and every tear that escaped her eyes trailing a line of fire down her face. She had never felt so alone in all her life and she hid her face in her hands, away from prying eyes on the sidewalk.

This wasn't how their reunion was supposed to be and Michael was fuelled by anger so dark and deep he never wanted to feel it again. He never wanted to feel again at all. His door collided with the wall behind it, the handle causing a dent to appear in the décor and bouncing it back to him. He caught it and slammed it shut, the sound echoing through his minimalist apartment.

His breathing was ragged and primal, low grunts escaping his chest each time he heaved a deep breathe in and blew it out like an angry bull. He threw his hands flat against the white tiled sideboard on his breakfast counter and rocked himself forward and backwards, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Every time he blinked, Lincoln and Sara smiling flashed before his eyes and his treacherous intelligence fabricated his worse nightmares. Lincoln's hand reaching out to brush Sara's. His lips hovering passionately above hers as she gave in, sinking into his brother's arms. Michael's eyes flew open and he growled in outrage, grabbing a photograph of him and Lincoln and hurling it against the opposite wall. It smashed into a million tiny shards and slid to the floor.

Michael panted harder, his entire being racked with antagonism and like a thing possessed he hurriedly ran around his apartment, ripping images of his brother from every surface. Each time the photographs smashed the image stayed smiling back at him, mocking him. Michael paused in front of a large mirror that hung over his decorative fireplace.

The man staring back at him was not him. This man was a lost man, a man full of hate and resentment. He was enraged and jealous and Michael hated him. He stood, looking up into his reflection with repulsion and for a split second he wished he had never come back today. What ifs flooded his brain as Michael continued to stare into his soulless eyes.

What if he hadn't of come back today? What if Sara had given up on his return and moved on? What if he had never left? None of this would of happened and she would most likely be curled in his arms right now as they poured their hearts into every word they shared. What if Michael had just ruined their relationship?

His cell phone vibrated in his jacket before breaking into song. He retrieved it and the display read "Sara" so he quickly pressed the red symbol, sending her to his voicemail. He dropped it and it clattered on his wooden flooring before it began another ignored vibrating alert.

Michael stared at himself once more, a tear seeping from his eyelids. The world wasn't made of What ifs, it was made of Right Nows. He picked up the shaking cell phone and answered the call with silence.