Always || Prince/MJ

Always || Chapter 8

1996

Nicole "Nikki" Foster

"What the fuck!"

When that Oprah interview aired on television, I immediately called my mother to make sure that she could watch the twins again. To be honest, it would take me quite a while before I could handle other responsibilities without spewing chaos.

I believed that this broadcast couldn't be real. I believed that I was just dreaming. In my mind, I believed that Skip wasn't off the market, especially not as Mayte sat right beside him onscreen. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to faint.

He knew that he was mine, but he was married once again. I couldn't even watch this interview without crying between commercials. The televised studio footage and live performances didn't even make me smile. I just broke down all over again.

A few days later, he finally called my answering machine.

"Nik, I'm so sorry. I've tried to call before the interview and couldn't reach you. Please call me back when you can. I'm sorry." His voice broke just before this message stopped. I didn't want to hear anything from him until there was truth.

That week, Skip and I saw each other in person again. Momma was still watching the twins back at her house. Good, because I didn't want the babies to come back here until we sort all of the bullshit out. Our children deserved stability, not drama.

"Please, look at me." My ex had whispered to fill space between us. Now, we both sat in different living room chairs. Our silence reeked with venom that just amplified my own anger. No makeup or flashy clothes for me this time around.

"Why couldn't you just tell me?" I lowered my voice rather than acting gentle during this conversation. We really needed to talk, no matter how ugly things turned out afterwards. I was tired. He knew that we couldn't escape this moment.

"I couldn't trigger your depression with that kind of news." Skipper then cleared his throat, but soon answered my question. My heart thumped and dropped all at once. I rolled my eyes, immediately ready to spew my responses in one way or another.

"Telling me about the marriage would've been much better than seeing y'all laugh and smile on television. I couldn't even have interviews with you when we were together." I offered the truth and he knew that I was right, regardless of joy.

"That's because you shut down. The last thing we needed was cameras in your face. There was a reason why the press wasn't even allowed to interfere during Frankie's court case, too." Skip volleyed. Despite my depression back then, of course I knew. Nothing could make me forget what happened to my sister.

"Even after I bounced back, you still weren't letting me interview on camera." I wanted to yell, but remained calm. There was no other choice. If I really let myself go crazy, neighbors would've called the police. In short, I held back on purpose.

"First of all, I've never controlled you in my life. Secondly, you were busy raising the girls and didn't ask about any interviews. I left it alone." Skip allowed him to pace back forth here. I folded both arms in returned, but wasn't ready to stop.

"I know that show business ain't perfect, but maybe if you were around more often and stopped fucking diffrent women, I wouldn't worry about you not seeing the girls as much." I shook my head, still feeling pissed off this time near him. He still knew.

"I wouldn't cheat if you didn't lie about other people behind my back." Skip turned the tables on me. I wasn't perfect and did cheat before, but this accusation of me acting promiscuous through our marriage was nothing short of insane this time.

"I only hooked up with Michael. What are you talking about?" I scrunched up my face for obvious reasons. Another round of silence wanted to fall between us again, but Skip broke any quiet by counting off with both hands. I just watched him rant.

"El, Jill, Susan, Denise, Carmen, Lori, Andre, Morris, Jesse, Tony, Al, Johnny, Chris, Mike, Chico, D'Angelo. The list goes on, all right?" He didn't yell, but there were many reasons why I became angrier.

He named other celebrities. Even after our marriage, he became jealous of other people befriending me. 

"What are you saying?" I placed both hands on my hips.

"Our relationship has always been doomed because you can't keep your legs closed either. You really are Darling Nikki." Skip tried to blame me again.

"You really need to stop, all right? I'm not the one marrying again just because that woman's pregnant." I snipped back.

"Watch yourself." Skip cut through with his own anger. I froze.

"What now?" I asked.

"My son is gone." Skip offered one last detail before he entered the guest room. My heart dropped once more.

We didn't talk again for the rest of the night.

______

That next morning, I woke in my bedroom to hear sounds of him running the shower. He was singing beyond the closed door. His signature falsetto cracked between lyrics as he cried. It was barely past dawn and I wanted to cry again. The song was "Baby" from the "For You" album. I mouthed along, even sitting in bed.

Soon after he came out of that guest room, I heard a knock on my door. His bloodshot eyes bore into my soul, even after he'd dressed for the day. Silence of the morning then fell between us for this millionth occasion. I just waited, listening.

"Good morning. I'm sorry. I've been upset for a while and you never deserved that rant." At least he apologized. Most men these days would've just held grudges forever. Yet, I always knew that Skip was cut from a completely different cloth.

I'd never mention the loss of his son on my own. Anything would've happened with children. The best I could was support him and Mayte. Enough was enough. As I've said, drama would've been pointless. Death wasn't a joke and never would be.

"I forgive you." We couldn't address our elephant in the room. His jealousy must've conjured that list of names from last night. Yet, I still knew much better. We couldn't afford another tense fight, even though our adorable twins weren't around.

"It's okay. Mir-Mir's chilling with Frankie now." Skipper whispered to me. It only took seconds for me to realize the gravity of what he eluded. He meant that his son Amiir was now spending time with my sister Frankie in heaven. I quietly teared up.

When the limousine pulled up to take Skip all the way back to Paisley Park, I almost went with him.

If it wasn't for Mayte and motherhood of my own, I would've gone.