Forever and a Half || Michael Jackson

Chapter Fifty-nine - You Win

Chapter fifty-nine – You Win

Note: ohmigosh I can't believe this is the penultimate chapter of the story! What a blast the last five years has been writing this story. Also note: scenes of violence/mental health issues included in this chapter so read at your own risk. Thank you!

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-The following day-

-Clover's Point of View-

Today, I'm going to talk to Citria about what I know about Michael. It's going to be tough, but she needs to know in order to take the right steps for her, him and the baby. The last thing I'd want is for her to be so stressed that it puts the child at risk, and then Michael deteriorates too. At present, Michael is watching a home video show, which he hasn't done in a long time. It's pretty odd to me really, but perhaps he's trying to keep his mind off of other things he could be doing. I'm glad about that.

I'm in the kitchen trying to rehearse what to say to Citria in my head. There's no easy way to say something like this, but I'll have to try my best. As though she knows, Citria enters the kitchen a few moments after my thoughts have concluded. "Morning Clover," she greets, flashing a smile at me as she grabs a glass from the cupboard to fix herself some juice. "How are you doing today?"

"I'm doing ... okay. How are you?"

"I'm good too thanks. Feel a bit off, but I'll be okay." She chuckles a little, before taking a sip of her drink. "Any plans for today?"

"Well actually Cit, I needed to talk to you about something." There, I've laid the cards on the table. There's no going back now. All of a sudden, I feel nervous.

"Oh, sure. What is it?" Her eyebrows rise in curiosity, as she sets her glass down on the kitchen table. "Is it bad?"

"Um, well ... can we go upstairs to your room or something?" I request. The last thing I want is for Michael to overhear me talking so sensitively about his situation.

"Yeah, of course." She leads me up the stairs and into hers and Michael's room, before sitting on the bed and patting the space next to her. "So, what's up?"

"Uh, okay ... " It seems that all of a sudden, I've forgotten how to use the English language. Words are getting stuck in the back of my throat. "I-I guess there's no easy way of telling you this, what with you kind of—I mean, I don't want to put too much stress on you because of the baby—"

That came out very, very wrong. I wasn't even supposed to tell her I knew about the baby. I've really messed this up now. And that's even more evident by the look of surprise on her face.

"Clover, how do you know about that?" she hisses, trying to keep as quiet as she can so Michael doesn't hear. "Michael doesn't even know yet!"

"Well, that's kind of what I'm trying to tell you, Cit. I accidentally found your test a-and—"

"Why were you looking in my bedside drawer?" Her eyes widen, and her brows furrow deeply. "What made you think you could invade my privacy like that?"

"Citria, please let me explain!—"

"No; I've heard all I need to hear." She looks frustrated; she rises from the bed and starts to pace around the room. "I let you come live with Michael and I after my dad and Uncle Reiss died and the first thing you want to do is invade my privacy? Why Clover?" Her hands claw at her temples in a mix of agitation and confusion; she isn't shouting at me but she's clearly upset because I haven't had the chance to explain the logic behind it.

"Citr—" I give up halfway through and breathe, "Look, just let me explain what actually happened, okay? I had good intentions, I swear."

"What? How can that be good intentions Clover?" Her eyes roll a little, but hopefully once I explain she'll understand.