thebluemoonjune - Tumblr blog

[thebluemoonjune]

The Elegance of Resilience Chapter 6: Daddy Issues

Chapter 6: Daddy Issues

Summary:

Father continues to berate Michonne then Rick argues with her Father.Rick and Michonne's disagreement about her father not talking about pregnancy. Rick needs air meet Daryl. Michonne and her parents argue (with dad mostly) about Rick, pregnancy, wedding, Mike, the children, her independence. Rick and Michonne have honest conversations. Michonne Rick and Sasha hosts a get-together.

Notes:

This kind of serves as a trigger warning for people who have experienced emotional abuse.

Michonne didn’t answer Reynard as fast as he would have liked. She withdrew from Rick's touch and swallowed hard, looking down, locked in a cycle of self-doubt.

“Michonne-”

“Amélie. Go on…”

Reynard cut Rick off, keeping his cold, dead gaze on his daughter. His voice was stern but soft. Her jaw trembled, making it hard to speak. She was wringing her hands under the table, trying to regain her composure. 

“To be better-”

“I can’t hear you, Amélie.”

“To be better… I have to be better. Don’t make foolish mistakes, and give people room to talk. If I can’t honour you, do not shame you.”

“Reynard, please.” Marie pleaded to her husband.

“You disappoint me, dearest.” He placed his arm on the table and rubbed the crown of his head, as if to tell her he was fed up with her nonsense. He went on, however.

“Did I not give everything that others less fortunate than yourself would kill for? You went to the best schools, wore the best clothes, ate the best food... But most importantly, I taught you values. I taught you to work hard, to strive for greatness, to respect yourself... You are a woman and you are black, I made sure you never forgot that… I made sure you were the best, that you were number one in all your endeavours... Let me ask you this, Dearest. When was the last time you practised, hmm?”

“I take cases here and there!” Her voice rose hysterically.

“Watch your tone with me, girl.” His icy stare bore into her. “You have not practised in three months, and three months prior to that... Can’t find the time to take a case, but all the time to get pregnant... You can’t pay your bills by taking a case every three months… Living off your trust fund, no doubt.”

“What? Do you want to cut me off?" She let out a lengthy sigh, stretching her right hand out on the dining table, not looking at her father's emotionless face.

“No, nor would it be my place. If I had my way, you wouldn’t have had it in the first place, but alas, your mother will always have her way, even if it means to undermine me and spoil you... I have been the best father I could be. While your mother wanted to be your friend, I worked tirelessly and thanklessly to ensure you were the best version of yourself… I remember the first time you became valedictorian. You were four, and you came running, yelling, ‘Daddy! Daddy, look!'. You were so proud of yourself, and I was proud of you.” He had the slightest smile as he reminisced.

“It was that day I knew you were destined to be even better than me... Yet here you are. It hurts me to see you settle into this ball of mediocrity. How very disappointing.” 

Her self-esteem began to collapse like a brittle sandcastle, damaged by the never-ending waves of negative thoughts crashing on the shores of her mind. Michonne let out a hollow laugh, and the tears she'd managed to hold back threatened to flow once more. She refused to cry in front of him for a second time, and she shot up from the table without saying anything, heading upstairs to her bedroom.

“Sweetheart, wait!” Marie rushed to meet her daughter.

Rick knew he should have gone after Michonne, but he had some choice words for the man before him. His muscles flicked angrily in the jaw, and his eyes gleamed with ruthless fire. Reynard challenged his gaze, smiling maliciously.

“Say what you want to say, boy.” Reynard popped another bottle of wine open and poured himself a glass.

“Do you get off on hurting your daughter?”

“What? Of course not.” His brows shot up at the insinuation. “If anything, she gets off on going against me. You aren’t the first; she did it with Mike as well, but she understood eventually. With a bit of tough love to push her, she’ll come around; my Amélie always does.”

His voice was much calmer with Rick, as if he wasn’t worth any extra energy. He tossed his wine around in the glass before taking a sip.

“But I have to say, Richard, Michael was a doctor; he had no children nor any long-winded drama or anger issues; however, I knew he wasn’t good enough—not for my daughter. He was weak, complacent, and selfish. Even when she accepted his proposal, I knew that she knew, it would never work. She was only twenty-two; she was driven, intelligent, and kind, with a deep love for life. My Amélie was destined for greatness, and she still is. Which confuses me as to why she chose you of all people. It’s been more than four years. It worries me that she might actually be serious about this long term.”

Rick blinked quickly, trying to grasp the incredible scene in front of him, his mind attempting to reconcile reality with the shock.

“You’re not serious, are you? It ain’t crossed your mind that we might actually love each other. I love her, she loves me. We're gonna get married. We got two children together. Thank you for delivering the news about the third, by the way.”

“You're very welcome, Richard. I think it’s a testament to your relationship that my daughter didn't tell you. Everything isn’t all dandy, as you say.”

“You're saying that she doesn’t love me?”

“No! No! My daughter doesn’t have a callous bone in her body. I’m sure her feelings for you are genuine, no matter how fleeting they are. What I am saying is that there must be a reason she hasn’t told you; she’s three months along, as I understand it to be. You didn’t even realise. You say you love my daughter, but I don’t believe that. I don’t think she believes it either.”

Reynard relished the simple excitement of living, savouring each sip of wine. It was as though his senses were heightened by his enjoyment. He couldn't stop smiling; his smile was dangerous but genuine, as if happiness had taken up residence on his face. Rick's face flushed bright red. He smashed his hand against the table, the piercing crackling echoing throughout the room, scattering pieces of broken glass and the remnants of his rage.

“I love Michonne; I’m in love with her whether you like it or not! She knows that!”

“If you loved her, you would have waited until you had your divorce instead of making her a glorified mistress. You wouldn’t have gotten her pregnant out of wedlock. How much has my Amélie sacrificed for you?”

Rick paced towards Reynard, the force of his footsteps a testament to the restless anger coursing through his veins. His finger pointed directly into Reynard's face as he cornered him. The older man smirked as he poured more wine into his glass and slanted back into his seat.

“What the hell do you know? You don't want her happy! You're gonna make it seem like you want what’s best for her; it’s all bullshit! You just want to control her. You’re gonna sit here and act like you care, but the truth is, you don’t like that you're losing control. It ain’t sitting right with you that someone else got influence over her!”

Reynard nodded enthusiastically, and his eyes grew wide with excitement as Rick invaded his space. He turned to meet his angry gaze.

“You said all of that just to ignore my question... Richard, I think that part of you knows...”

“What?”

“That part of you knows that you’re not good enough for my little girl. Part of you doubts the sanctity of your relationship. Part of you is afraid that one day she’s going to realise that you're not worth it.”

Rick stumbled back, briefly losing his footing, his body recoiling as if struck by an invisible force by the unexpected allegation levelled at him. As a prolonged moment of silence took hold, his breath stopped, caught in his throat. He looked at the man, trying to find the right words, before turning on his heel and walking up the stairs to his and Michonne's bedroom. Outside the door, he could hear two women talking in French. He didn’t bother to knock before he entered.

“Ah, tu es là, Richard! I’ll go clean up downstairs.” She kissed his cheek. “Amélie, prends ton temps. D'accord? Je t'aime.” She gave her child one last look.

And with that, Marie left, giving the couple their space. Rick walked to Michonne, whose eyes were red and puffy. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t maintain eye contact. She rubbed the backs of her crossed arms gently. 

“We need to talk, Michonne.”

“Do we have to do this right now?”

“The baby thing? Yes! Yes, we do.” His voice had dropped an octave and was gritty.

“What do you want me to say, Rick?”

“How about you start with how long you’ve known, Chonne?”

“A little over a month...”

“A little over a month. And you didn’t think that I should know we’re gonna have another baby? I should’ve known! I should’ve been the first one to know!”

“I had my reasons, Rick! You know I did…”

“And yet it’s those reasons that concerns me! You made an active choice to hide your pregnancy from me for reasons I can’t even begin to comprehend… Your mother knows, and your father knows enough that he can throw it in our fucking faces! Let me guess: Sasha knows as well, which would make me the last to know. Ain’t that just fucking something?”

“I didn’t tell you because of everything going on. Lori, Judith, and the stress of everything else! You had so much on your plate. I was waiting for the right time.”

“And when was the right time, hmm?”

“Rick…”

She couldn’t answer, nor did he want her to. She reached out to grab his arm, but he pulled away from her, and her shoulders slumped. The room felt suffocating; the air was heavy with an oppressive sadness that clung to every corner.

“The truth is, you don’t trust me to be man enough and deal with my shit. Like I’m a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. I see it in how you treat me when I deal with other people. I know I got my issues, but you got no right like I’m some broken toy. Part of you agrees with your father-”

“That’s not true!”

“We both know it’s true! You’ve never defended me in front of your father. Not once.” 

He rubbed his hand over his face after watching a tear fall from Michonne's eyes. She held his hand.

“Rick, baby, I don’t want to fight.”

“I don’t wanna fight either. I don’t wanna say something I can’t take back, so I’m gonna go.”

“Where? Baby, it’s late!”

“Daryl’s”

“That’s an hour's drive-”

“I know. I’m a grown man… Look, I ain't gonna go on some rave, okay? This thing, with your father and the baby, I just need time to get my thoughts straight.”

He took his phone, his baseball cap, and his jacket and left. Michonne sat on her bed and hugged her knees to her chest, rocking back and forth, seeking solace in the rhythm of her own desolation as she thought of all that happened tonight.

…

“Hey, man. You didn’t call.”

“You got someone coming over or something.”

“No. What’s going on? Trouble in paradise?”

“My father-in-law’s in town. Let's just say we had an oh-so-colourful dinner…” 

Rick threw himself on the couch, putting his arm over his face to cover his eyes from the light. Daryl went to the kitchen to grab two beers to join him.

“Michonne’s pregnant. Found out tonight.”

“What? You ain’t want it?”

“That ain’t the problem. Her father is the one who let the cat out the bag. She hid it.”

“She ain’t want it?”

“It’s not that... I know she thinks I can’t handle another kid. And not just another kid; she doesn’t think me reliable at all. She’s gonna start showing soon. How long was she gonna hide it for?”

“She said that?”

“No, but I know it.”

“Rick-”

“If we didn’t have the boys, I got no doubt she would have left me a long time ago. I know it.”

“Rick, that girl loves you.”

“Yeah. Well, love ain’t everything; you, of all people, should know that.”

“Leah and Michonne ain’t the same. Come on, Rick. You ain’t exactly been the best partner, Rick. This ain’t the 1950s; if she wanted to leave, trust me, she would, especially if her daddy been begging her for years. Them kids ain’t gonna stop shit. Stay the night; clear your head, but you're gonna go home in the morning.”

“Hey, Michonne wanted to have a small get-together on Friday; you coming? It’s for the weekend.”

“Alright, just text me the time... And Rick, some parents, they don’t got to beat you to damage you.” 

Daryl stood up and went to his room, leaving behind his best friend. Rick took out his wallet to retrieve a photograph from within. It was of him and Michonne with the boys at their christening. This is a special occasion for both of their families. He and Michonne weren't religious, but it was a custom shared by both of their families, which was unusual for the two. Both of their parents were in the back, bathing in the joyous atmosphere of the blessing and celebration of their children. He traced his fingers along the old photograph, a bittersweet caress that brought memories to life. His fingers lingered on its surface, as if, by touching it, he could somehow find solace within it.

…

“Bonjour Amélie. Comment vas-tu? I see Richard hasn’t returned… Do you want to talk about it?”

“Morning, mummy…” Her lips pulled together into a half-formed smile.

“Darest, I spoke to your father last night... Don’t take it to heart; he’s a stubborn old fool. He only wants what's best for you.”

“Best for me? Is insulting me and the father of my children, is what's best for me?”

“Amélie, Your father has his flaws, but he’s sincere. I like Richard, but let’s not act as if he had done right by you.”

“Why are you entertaining the girl’s foolishness? What life has she lived to be able to question me?” Reynard said, entering the kitchen.

He was wearing a maroon Ralph Lauren sweater with a grey shirt underneath and long khaki pants. He wore his glasses today, and he carried his laptop and iPad with him.

He seems to be occupied for the day. That means he’ll be out of my hair for a while. Should I bring the boys back?

“Good morning, my sweet. You look handsome; you were in rare form last night.”

“Is breakfast finished?”

“Oui, hungry?”

He didn’t come last night; he slept out. I get he’s angry, but to take that shit out on me! And he wonders why I acted the way I did. Shameless man!

 “Amélie?”

I wonder what time he’s coming back. We still need to talk, but that temper! Still, I’m not completely in the right either, and he honestly held it together pretty well. Then again, he never really lost his shit with me, even last night.

“Amélie!”

“What is it?”

“Did you not hear your mother calling you, girl?”

“I’m not doing this shit today.” Michonne began to walk away

“What was that girl?”

“Look, I don’t have the time. Rick didn’t come back last night, and I can’t with you right now. I'm tired of this.” 

“Let’s not do this, you two!”

“You seem to forget yourself, Amélie.” Reynard ignored Marie.

“The father of your grandchildren left late last night because of your antics; he isn’t back yet... Dad, it's not fair what you're doing to my family!”

“Your family? Am I not your family? It seems being away from us for so long has rotted your brain. Even talking back to me, have you lost your mind?”

“No, I haven’t!” Her words shattered into the room like shards of glass. “Do you know why the twins aren't here? I left them with Sasha because I didn't want them here with you! I have somethings to get off my chest, and you will listen.”

Michonne could see her father fuming, but he remained silent, his arms crossed hard across his chest. It was as though he was waiting to see how far she'd go with her 'performance'. Sweat rivulets formed across her body, and time seemed to slow as the weight of the situation pressed on her. Under his piercing gaze, she could sense her courage wavering. She was adamant, however, knowing that if she didn't express what she wanted now, she might not get another chance. After Rick left, she thought long and hard about everything, especially Rick’s words. She hardly slept last night, knowing that he was out and angry at that.

“I am an adult, capable of making my own decisions. And though they aren’t always the best, they are my decisions to make.” She took a deep breath. “I moved to Atlanta to be my own person. I didn’t want to be attached to your name anymore; in everything I did, I had to be careful not to tarnish you because, no matter what, I was only seen as  Reynard Hawthorne's daughter. ‘If I can’t honour you, do not shame you.’ Those were the words that kept ringing in my head every single day! Every part of my life you controlled. What clothes I wore, what languages I spoke,  what instruments I played, and my likes and dislikes—you even controlled who I was dating!”

“I already know you chose Michael just to go against me. You did it then, and you’re doing it now. But I do not hold it against you; all children challenge their parents, and all children rebel. You carried on that charade with that buffoon for almost two years just to spite me, but in the end, you left him at the altar. I raised you, I taught you, and I made you who you were. In this world, I know you better than you know yourself. I do not hold your little outburst to heart, so quit while you are ahead, lest it stop being cute.”

“I did stay with Mike to spite you, and I don’t regret it.”

“You don’t regret it?” Reynard asked rhetorically, “Dearest, I told Richard that you didn’t have a callous bone in your body; I lied. I knew that I lied because you are mine; you are my daughter, and so you are just like me... But if you must defy me, at least go all the way. In the end, you chickened out because you didn’t have the gall. You picked a battle you couldn't win, and I knew you couldn’t do it. You see, Amélie, you are your mother’s as much as you are mine. You have her unyielding heart.”

He walked up to her and took her hands in his. He had a smile on his face, which caught Michonne off guard. His ability to change emotions at the drop of a hat always left her speechless.

“Dearest, you are not experienced enough to navigate the world on your own. I have no doubt that you love Richard; however, just like with Mike, I know this will not work. You think you do as well, since there are feelings involved, but I know better. Have I ever been wrong in the past? You tried it before, but in the end, you walked away like I said you should. Dearest, you are stubborn; you got that from me. What I do is to ensure that your bullheaded nature does not lead you astray.”

He softly tapped her palms, as if to offer her comfort.  When she looked at her father, she was met with that expression. He was smiling, but he had that expression on his face. That very look had haunted her throughout her life. That empty, piercing look probed her soul; what it was searching for, she didn't know. She was looking around his face, as if the shell in front of her was hiding a monster. A firm lump bound her neck, making breathing difficult.

She grew extremely cold and jerked her outstretched hands back, afraid to let him touch them.

“I’m glad you know I love him. This isn’t some short-term thing. He’s the one I want. I knew that the first day I laid my eyes on him. I didn’t care about the consequences then, and I don’t care now. I don’t care what anyone has to say! Am I a bad person? Yeah! Maybe! I met a married man with two children. I wanted him, I got him, and I don’t regret any of it! I love him! I love him! I love him! And I’m going to marry him! And we’re going to have another baby! And I don’t care what you or her have to say about it!” 

Her heart was racing, and her breath was ragged in her throat. It was the first time she denounced her parents. She spoke so quickly that it almost became hard to tell what was said. The face that had held a smile now showed nothing. Not anger or disgust; it was now just expressionless. He walked even closer, barely giving her any room to breathe. Marie, who stood silently the entire time, felt a presence other than theirs. She looked towards the entrance of the kitchen.

“Michonne…”

“Rick, you’re back…”

He walked to her and took her hand to leave, not paying any mind to the people in the kitchen.

“Where are we going?”

“Away from here…We're gonna have to talk, right?”

“Yeah…”

…

The couple sat on the park bench, taking in the breeze. A radiant smile swept across their faces, and their eyes glowed with electrifying excitement.

It feels good to be away from everything. It feels freeing.

After last night and this morning, this was a welcomed change of pace for Michonne, and she suspected the same for Rick as well. She turned to look at him, only to find him staring at her with eyes much calmer than they were last night.

“Rick I—”

“I'm sorry, I—”

They laughed a bit, understanding what the other was going to say. Michonne blocked her giggle and said,

“You go first.”

“Okay… Chonne I’m sorry about how I left last night. I just didn’t want to say the wrong thing…I understand why you didn’t say anything; I do. I know I ain’t exactly in the best place mentally, and I know your father; he doesn’t exactly make it any easier.” He smiled sadly.

“What you said last night, about me not defending you... You were right. I just—things with my dad are so complicated; I don’t even know how to explain it!”

Rick clasped their hands together, pulling her to him.

“Sometimes parents don’t got to hit their kids to damage ‘em; Daryl told me that… He may have raised you and cared about you, but that man isn’t a good father; it’s time you stop acting like he is.” He pulled her hand to his lips. “I thought about our family all last night, and I want us all to work. I need us all to work, but if he can’t be better, I’m sorry, baby; I don’t need him around my kids or us... I overheard what you told him; in fact, I was eavesdropping a while before I entered the room. Does that make you mad?”

“Kind of, but I'll get over it.” He chuckled at her.

“Darling, you are enough. I need you to know that.”

Her lips trembled as she tried to stop the overwhelming emotion. She managed to form a slight smile that gave way to what she was trying to overcome, although one couldn’t tell by looking at her face that both her hands, even the one he held, were shaking.

“What I said—didn’t it change what you thought about me? How you see me?”

“No, sweetheart, it doesn't. If anything, I’m relieved; you were too perfect, and you still are to me. You have the right to be selfish; ain’t nothing wrong with that. Everyone makes mistakes. I’ve done made a whole lot; it’s a wonder you're still with me. I’ve said it before: what happened with Mike wasn’t great, but you saved him and yourself from what was gonna be a terrible marriage... You’re not a bad person for wanting to live for yourself—as yourself.”

“I think most people would disagree with everything I’ve done to this point.”

“You don’t need to care about everyone else. We just have to care about each other and be the best that we can be for our children…Chonnie, you're not some homewrecker either; we both made a choice, and my marriage had no saving to be had... I was happy with what you said to your old man. Not just because you stood up to him, but hear that you truly want to be with me despite how messed up I am or everything with Lori or that we got kids; that you want me.”

“You are messed up, but so am I. The truth is, you're getting better. You were a good man before me and Lori, and you’re a good man after, but I’m—what I’ve got, there’s no fixing that.”

He wiped her tears from her cheeks, tracing his fingertips along her bottom lashes. As she buried her face in the flesh of his neck, he wrapped her in his warm embrace and tenderly kissed the top of her head. She had managed to deceive him for so long while suffering so much.

Four years, and I didn't know. You deserve better.

“Next week, I want you to join me in my sessions with Dr. Job. Okay? I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Okay.”

“We’re gonna be just fine, darling. I know it, and if we’re not, we’ll make it work. Not just for us, but for our family. It ain’t gonna be easy; we'll do it though, and we’ll be strong for each other. From now on, we live how we choose.”

“I love you...”

“I love you more. ”

The pair was in a better emotional state after having a fully open discussion. They picked up the boys and decided to spend the remainder of the day having fun as a family. When they got back home, they fully expected an argument between the two sides; however, they kept their words limited. Rick suspected it had to do with the twins being present. The same happened the next day as well.

…

Friday evening came quickly. Michonne, Rick and Sasha had rented out a guest house for the weekend, where Maggie, Daryl and a few others were present. They were going to bring the kids, but Marie had offered to babysit them. It was a peace offering, no matter how temporary it was Rick and Michonne agreed. Maggie rode with them. 

When they got there, Sasha, Daryl and Michonne's friend, Rosita, were already there, along with Rick’s friends Carol and Morgan, who would arrive the following day. Michonne and Maggie hopped out of the car, leaving Rick to bring the bags in. Daryl, who was smoking outside, went to help his friend. Sasha and Rosita, hearing the car, came out to see.

“Heyyyy bitchessss!” Sasha yelled at the top of her lungs.

Michonne and Maggie hugged everybody around them, their passionate actions a tribute to the overwhelming happiness that flowed from their spirit. Their laughter resonated like bells in the air, a melody of pure delight that raised everybody's mood.

“Where’s Abe?”

“He’s staying with Noah till his sister comes to take over tomorrow. Until then, I’m free whores!” She laughed, pushing out her tongue. She already had a shot in her hand.

“How much have you had to drink?”

“She had six shots!” Rosita made it known before Sasha could lie.

“We’re here for a break from life; what the hell did you expect? Come drink with me!”

“I can’t.” Maggie shut her down

“Chonne can’t either.”

“What?”

Everybody other than Michonne and Daryl watched Rick as he took the last bag to head inside, confused as to why he was speaking for her. Maggie looked at Michonne while the rest fluctuated between the duo, putting two and two together.”

“Noooo…” Rosita covered her mouth.

“You guys got knocked up again! Whatever bug you two have, you better keep it to yourselves! I’m not playing!”

“Would that be so bad?”

“Shhh, Mags; he may not be here, but he might hear you. He’s been begging for a girl!”

The air ignited with an electric charge, such that everyone in attendance swirled with eagerness for what was to come, infusing the occasion with an irresistible energy.

“Guys, come inside!” Rick called out to the girls.

[thebluemoonjune]

The Elegance of Resilience Chapter 5: GoodBye

Chapter 5: Goodbye

Summary:

Rick and Lori have a long need talk about everything. And the Hawthornes arrive.

When Rick woke up, Michonne wasn’t next to him. His attention had been caught by a white piece of paper on the dresser. It was a letter she had written.

Hey sleepyhead,

I guess you're awake if you're reading this. I didn’t want to wake you up. I’ll be at Sasha’s for a few hours since I want to see the twins. I’m going to let them stay for an extra day. Sasha has an appointment in the morning, but Abe offered to watch them till she got back. I hope you haven't forgotten already, but my parents are coming tomorrow, and I don’t want the boys around for that first clash. I should be back by nine. And in case you're hungry, I left dinner on the stove, so please eat something. Also, Lori called you, and no, I didn’t answer. After everything that happened, who knows? Talking might do some good.

Yours truly,

Chonne

Rick put the note back where he found it, only to pick up his phone to go through it. He saw eight missed calls from Lori. His mind flashed to Judith. Memories danced on the precipice of his thoughts, teetering between cherished moments and painful reminders, threading a delicate line between solace and sorrow. He stood up and walked to the mirror, looking at himself for almost three minutes. He saw a stranger, eyes hollow and listless, the sparkle of life extinguished, replaced by the vacant gaze of nothing. He grabbed the phone to call Lori back.

[Rick, Hello.]

[Why did you call me?]

[I wanted us to talk... Just me and you. I’m in Atlanta…I came hoping you’d meet with me at the restaurant we celebrated our sixth anniversary. Do you remember that?]

[I’ll meet you.]

Rick cut her off before he heard the rest of what she had to say. He ate and went to get ready.

…

Entering the restaurant, he saw her sitting in the Centre. He didn’t understand why she chose this place, and he didn’t want to understand. He told the waiter who he came to meet, and they escorted him to the table.

“Hi, Rick…”

“Good evening.”

“Did you come from work?”

“I’m on paid leave.”

A heavy fog enveloped her mind, shrouding her thoughts in a grey haze. Not wanting her face to betray her, she wore a gentle smile.

“This place hasn’t changed a bit, Don’t you think so? I already ordered for us.”

“I didn’t come here to reminisce, Lori. Let's cut to the chase.”

She traced invisible patterns on the tablecloth, a nervous tic that betrayed her anxious anticipation, her mind racing with scenarios of what could go wrong.

“I wasn’t a good wife nor you good husband… You’re a good man, but you weren’t a good husband. But I loved you all the same.”

“I could have done better. I know that, but when it came to my children, I really did give my all.”

“You are a good father, Rick. A damn great one at that.”

“Then why did you destroy our family?”

She took a couple of seconds before answering. 

“You know, I was happy when we got married. You were the love of my life, you still are. You were kind, helpful, duty-driven, patient, understanding, and unconfrontational. Ain’t every day you meet a man like that. And here you were in front of me, ready to walk side by side, even though that meant never speaking to your mother again.”

Her smile became a mere facade, a fragile mask she wore to conceal the bitterness that threatened to consume her, the shadows of her depression dancing beneath her eyes. The waiter brought their meals, placing them on the table. She took a sip of her wine before continuing.

“It comes in threes. That's what my mother told me right after we got married. Three, six, nine, twelve,  so on and so on. It was the day of our sixth anniversary in this restaurant at this very table, I realised that everything I loved about you when we first got married was everything I hated about you now.”

Rick said nothing. His hands slid down his cheeks, pulling his eyes and lips down with them. He stared right through her, chin propped on his hand wearily. Unexpectedly, he felt calm, his temper nowhere in sight. Maybe it was the adrenaline of the back-and-forth dying out, leaving him exhausted. He simply waited for her to go on.

“We didn’t have much money, and Carl was so young. It was the first time in three years that you planned something for just the two of us, and you were an hour late like you usually were. When you came rushing in here, I already knew... Someone needed help, or you got caught up in a case. It was always something with your hero complex... The thing about marrying a kind, helpful, duty-driven, patient, understanding, and unconfrontational man is that he isn’t only that way towards you.”

They watched the world drift by, not truly seeing anything. The space under her eyes had darkened into sickly purple shadows; she still went on, however.

“Throughout our relationship, everyone seemed to have your time but me. We were together, but it barely felt that way. If I messed up, you would let it go or justify it, almost like I wasn’t worth getting mad at.”

“I didn’t know arguing over things that don’t matter was part of being married, Lori.”

“It’s something every normal couple does, Rick. After that sixth year, I realised I held the title of your wife, but I didn’t feel like your wife. It was as if we were just going through the motions.”

“You should have talked to me.”

“And say what? You work too much; you don’t show me enough attention; you don’t fight with me like real husbands and wives do... I know how it sounds. Trust me, I know.”

“So having an affair with my best friend was the next best thing.”

“I felt so lonely. At that point, I think we both realised that our marriage was hanging on a string… Shane had come by our house to see if you were there, but you were with Daryl for some reason. I remembered you took Carl with you, so it was probably hunting or something... I took the opportunity to talk to Shane. I wanted to know if you talked about us and if you did what you said. Then we talked about everything… He understood me, and then one thing led to another… He made me feel good, and I wanted to feel good; I needed to.”

She let out a weary sigh, a sound heavy with the weight of accumulated exhaustion, as if the burden of weariness had found its voice in her breath.

Rick gazed at her intently. His expression turned brisk and businesslike. Holding his breath, leaning back, and letting his eyes slowly close, he regulated his emotions.

“Don’t stop now; Go on.”

“The year when I got pregnant with Judy, did you really not notice? I thought you would notice for sure. I mean, we had sex. What— Once or twice around that month?”

“No.”

“I was so scared; I was gonna tell you, but you were so happy, and things between us started changing. So I ended things with Shane.”

“Oh, you ended things? I guess I’m gonna have to be thankful that you ended things.”

A cold wave of dread washed over her, and she could not bear to lift her head and meet the eyes of her estranged husband.

“When you found out, I thought you were gonna kill me, but you stayed. And when you found out about Judith, I was thankful. I need you to know that.”

“I didn’t do it for you.”

“I know, but you stopped doing it for them too.”

“What‘d you mean by that, Lori?”

“When did your little affair start?”

“Michonne was never a mistress.”

“You hid your relationship for almost a year, and we are still married. She is a mistress, no matter how you twist it.”

Eyes venomous, piercing her soul, Rick shot her a glare, filled with a cloud of warning that settled on his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and he stretched his neck from side to side before calming and returning to the conversion.

“I told you that I’d stay if Judith was mine. I tried to push everything away and deal with it and I couldn’t. I couldn't, and I was just... I hate you with every fibre of my being. I felt lost… Chonne, she’s so much more than some mistress; God sent her to me, and honestly, she deserves better than she got... I met the love of my life over four years ago, around that time I told you words I didn’t mean. And she gave me two beautiful boys, which God knows I don’t deserve. I wanted a divorce because it hurt to stay with you, and those three deserved more than second place, even now.”

“Wow.”

“You wanted honesty; let’s talk honesty. Ain’t that what we been doing?”

“Hmm. I knew you were with someone else, but I couldn’t prove it. I thought it was just a fling, you throwing a tantrum, but you keep asking for a DNA test. When you got shot, I knew how much I still loved you and couldn’t leave you. I knew I had to keep our family together, that I wasn’t ready to lose my husband, that my children weren’t ready to lose their father. I was determined, ready to be by your side, but I saw her there… I understand, but you didn’t have to get her pregnant. I feel like you did it to one-up me. Like you were punishing me, you been punishing me!”

Lori had gotten the attention of the nearby patrons with her last statement. She squeezed her eyes, trying to force the tears from their edges so she could be done with them. Her face was a mask of resignation, a facade that concealed the raw ache of her sadness, her true emotions hidden beneath a carefully crafted veneer.

“Punishing you. You felt like I was punishing you?” His huge blue eyes gave her a predatory look.

“You said that she was the love of your life. So what was I? You cut off your mother for me… Are you telling me everything you did and said wasn’t to spite me?”

“Lori I’m not gonna say you were a mistake; after all, you gave me Carl and Judith, if only for a time. I did love you at a point, but in the grand scheme of things, you’re a stepping stone. You were that the moment I met Michonne, even if I didn’t know it yet.”

“Is there really no going back? Is our family really gone? I still love you, Rick.”

“No… We can’t go back; we’ve both taken different paths. We both need to let go… On my way here, I had a lot of time to think. I’m not gonna fight you or Shane. I’ve got three boys that need me, that deserve all of me. I love her, and if in the future she still wants me in her life, I will be there. I’ve been fighting for so long, I can’t do it again. I can’t put my family through that again, and I won’t.”

They stared at each other until the laughter of the pair reared a hollow echo, a reminder of the joy they once knew. Still, they now seemed impossibly out of reach, as if happiness were a foreign language they could no longer comprehend when it came to their current relationship.

“Goodbye, Lori.”

“Goodbye, Rick.”

When Rick got up, he didn’t turn back to look at his soon-to-be ex-wife. He simply paid the bill and left. By the time he got back to the villa, Michonne was there, surprisingly.

I thought she said nine.

“Hey…”

“Hello, cowboy.” Her eyes shone with gentle, serene happiness, a tranquil glow that emanated from within.

“You said nine. What happened? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Something told me you took my advice. I wanted to be here when you came home… So how did it go?”

Michonne patted her lap, indicating that he come and lie down on the couch. As he did, she stoked his hair.

“It went better than I thought. I think we're both just tired.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Everything… From the beginning to the end. It felt good. I feel…Light.”

“Things are going to get better from here. I know it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

…

Michonne made it a point to get up an hour earlier than normal. She needed to make sure everything was in order for her parents' arrival that evening. She made a point of cleaning her always-clean house, beginning with the guest bedroom and working her way through the rest. Afterwards went grocery shopping with Rick to stock up on pantry reserves. She made sure to buy a lot of lamb meat and his favourite wine, a Woodward Canyon Sauvignon, because her father was particular, and when they came home at 5:00 p.m., she began cooking.

“I could pick ‘em up.”

“Rick, I can't do that to you. When they get here, I’ll just tell them we had an important something; I’ll come up with it when they get here. Knowing my father, they’ll be here in ten minutes, so 6:30 on the dot.”

“Mhmm…Need any help in here, though?”

“Nope, I’m almost done. The lamb needs like eight minutes in the oven, and I’ll be finished with lamb sauce in five, so...”

“Your dad…”

“Don’t challenge him; it'll be worse.”

Rick was about to answer when they heard a buzz from the gate.

“Oh shit, that’s them. I told Mummy the code; she forgot already?”

Michonne made her way to the pad to open the gates, then walked out the door with Rick at her heels. He stopped her

“Did you forget that your sauce? I’ll go.”

“Oh, alright. Be good?”

He was about to go to the driveway when he was greeted by the voice of an older man.

“I didn’t expect you to be here, Richard. I thought you would be with your wife.”

“Reynard… How are you?”

“Straining, waiting for you to take these suitcases. Be careful with Marie's, lest you break something. Where’s my daughter?”

“Chonne’s in the kitchen. She wanted to cook for both of you. Marie, I was beginning to wonder!”

Rick much preferred engaging with his soon-to-be mother-in-law, even though he was sure she was borderline insane. She gave him a warm hug and kissed him on the cheek.

“Oh, Richy! I had a call. Look how handsome you are every time I see you. Si beau! Si beau!”

“It’s lovely to see you too. Come on, let’s go inside. I’m sure you're hungry.”

…

Marie Nadege Lefevre, a Franco-Haitian woman born to a French father and a Haitian mother. Her father, André Jacques Lefevre, built his fortune from the ground up with blood, sweat, and tears at a time when it was hard for a man of his background to have many opportunities. When he’d reached the height of his success at the age of sixty, he met his wife,  Margaret Rosena Toussaint, a thirty-five-year-old painter who he was a faithful fan of. The couple married within five months of courting each other and had Marie eight months later. André spoiled Marie rotten. She was his only child, and he believed that with all his hard work, his daughter should have what she wanted when she wanted it. If not for Margaret, Marie would probably be an entitled and insufferable person. It also helped that she was naturally warm, kind, and loving, with an outgoing personality. 

“Oh, Amélie, dinner was lovely. By the way, where are the boys?”

Marie couldn’t stop grinning; her smile was infectious and genuine, as if happiness had become a permanent resident on her face, an expression that invited others to share in her joy.

“Thank you, Mommy. They’re with Sasha.” Michonne turned to Reynard “Dad, Sasha said she wanted to take you out tomorrow for some uncle and niece time.”

Reynard, who’d been eyeing Rick all dinner, led his gaze to his daughter.

“Why does this feel like a ploy between you and that troublesome child? Are you afraid of something, Amélie?”

She wiped her sweaty palms on her trousers, her nerves betraying her in tiny droplets of perspiration, a visible sign of her inner unease.

“Of course not.” her smile was forced as she attempted to hide her nerves “It’s just that you haven’t seen her in almost a year. Her Noah’s gotten big too.”

“That’s true. I want to see Abraham as well. He's a good man, that one. Your cousin made a wise choice. No other wife, because she’s the wife, and no other children. Only my daughter was foolish enough to open her legs to a married man with two kids, one of whom he’s not even sure about.”

Reynard, stop!” Marie begged him.

“Not only did she openly become a mistress, but she also got pregnant. I have been more than fair to this Godless behaviour, this shamelessness, but you’re pregnant again!”

Rick was ready to exchange words with the man when Reynard's final piece of his verbal onslaught caught him off guard. As he stared at Michonne, his already huge eyes expanded into massive circles. Her demeanour was deceptively controlled, her surprise revealed by a quick gasp. She sat transfixed, grasping her partner's shirt and pulling it until it was irreversibly stretched. Marie bit her bottom lip, buried in thoughts of severe ramifications for her.

She had promised Michonne she would tell her father since she was looking for the best time to inform Rick. She would always tell her husband anything, but if her daughter asked her to keep something between them, she did, but Reynard had happened to overhear their discussion. Looking at her child, she could see the embarrassment of her father's words and the shock creeping in. She also knew her husband wasn't done. The person he wanted to hurt wasn’t Michonne, but Rick.

“You never think these things through, Amélie. A third child, Amélie? Really, For a man who is still legally married? What the hell does he have to offer? You lowered your panties for a man that can’t even give you all of himself, a man with nothing to offer other than a pretty face and babies! Babies! Michonne Amélie Elodie Hawthorne, what did I teach you?”

Her eyes were wide and tear-filled. She bit her lower lip until it bled, the metallic taste a stark reminder of her terror, as if the agony provided a brief reprieve from the crushing panic that threatened to devour her.

“Do not cry; I have given you no reason to cry, Amélie. Now, what did I teach you?”

[thebluemoonjune]

The Elegance of Resilience Chapter 4: Knowing The Truth

Chapter 4: Knowing The Truth

Summary:

Michonne has a needed talk with Maggie. Rick learn's the truth about Judith.

"Rick?"

"Yeah, Chonne?"

"If our house started burning and everyone else, including me, the kids, and the rest of the family are safe, what would you take one last dash into the house to save?"

It was still early. The sun hadn't fully come yet, so the couple spent the time cuddling in bed. The atmosphere was serene and calming. With his lover's bizarre, but on-brand question, his lips pinched together in a hard line, unsure how to answer. He thought hard until he responded.

"My colt python."

"You would rather take a gun, than stuff like family photos?" Michonne arched an eyebrow in his direction.

Realising his mistake, his gears started turning. They'd been together for more than four years, his mother used to do it to his father. At this point, one would think he'd be able to navigate her traps.

It had to be a woman thing.

"Darling, now why would I do that when I know you'd take that stuff yourself? That's a waste of time just get nothing… Besides, my old man would kill me if I lost his gun. Don't want our kids fatherless now, do you?"

"Of course not, but I guess even the big, bad cowboy has an irrational fear of losing his damn gun."

"You mean that ain't normal?"

"It is if you're a cartoon character," said Michonne as her mouth split open wide in a booming laugh.

"Okay, little Miss Sunshine. Let me ask you one then…Which one of our friends is gonna survive an apocalypse…Hmm?"

"Daryl!"

"Daryl!"

"Grimes! You said it was my question!"

The two were in the mids of play-fighting when they heard a knock on their bedroom door.

"You stay; I'll get it."

Rick got up, and put on some bottoms, before heading to the door. Opening the door, he saw his younger cousin Maggie, knowing who it was for, he told her to wait a minute so Michonne could dress.

…

Meeting Maggie in her bedroom, Michonne carried herself to sit next to her on the bed.

"Hey"

"Hey"

"I hear you're preggers."

Both grinned and flushed as she tried to uplift the mood. They were silent for a bit.

"I'm not keeping it…I can't do this a third time; I just can't…"

"You're valid in feeling that way, Mags, but this isn't your decision alone… Glen should come back so you can work this out together."

"Why, so his parents can disown another of my children?"

"Maggie-"

"Do you know why he never takes us or the kids with him? It ain't business. Besides, I have my hands full with what I got."

"If that's true, Glen needs to make a decision; he can't have it both ways! The kids are the ones who suffer… I'm speaking from experience… He can't please everyone."

"I want more out of life…Everything I do is for my kids. I love them, but I don't recognise myself anymore… I don't know how much more of this I can take. I know I'm selfish…Everyone always tells me that, but I want more."

"Oh, Maggie."

"Your father calls you selfish, as in, 'Hey! The world doesn't revolve around you! You gotta live with your choices!' and he's right, which is why I'm making this decision... I'm tired, Mich."

"Life can get busy with work, kids, in-laws, family, and friends. You need to make sure you set aside some time to spend alone with your husband. Find a sitter for the kids, and clear a night or two to spend together. Focus on each other and discuss things that are important to you both."

"That's easier said than done."

"Which is why you just have to go for it! Look, I love my boys to the moon and back. I will always be there for them and Rick, but I have to be the best version of myself so I can be the best for them. Don't be afraid to ask for help…Shit, I wasn't with all this mess Rick has going on, and the pressure from my father. Do you think I would've made it this far if I hadn't done so? Think about what I said, Okay?"

"Okay."

"And have a talk with Herschel; tell him everything, Okay?"

"Okay."

And with that, Michonne left Maggie's room to go check on the kids. She and the boy left that night.

Two days later, it was the day. The day Rick would find out whether his daughter was his.

…

"I'll go with you. Let me be by your side."

She put her hand to his face to stare into his watery blue eyes. He stood motionless, attempting to digest what he had just heard. She held his face steady and pulled him towards her so their foreheads could touch. She waited patiently. Rick felt to himself that he was suffocating since he was terrified to breathe. Everything is open to change. Everything would change.

I need to calm down.

"I want you by my side. I need you there." His entire being seemed weighed down; his eyes were black and cupped by thick pouches.

"And I will be."

"I love you..."

"I love you more…"

…

They dropped the twins off at Sasha's, given that she was free, and they proceeded to court. They arrived approximately eight minutes prior to Lori, who'd been joined by Shane today. The two sides said nothing whilst they patiently awaited for the magistrate to make his entry in order to commence the spectacle that followed.

…

Things had been going on for almost an hour when it had reached the time to hear what everyone present wanted to know. A sickening wave of terror welled up in both Rick and Lori's bellies. Rick kept his head straight while Lori turned to look at him. Regardless of what she said to him, part of her still wanted him to be the father of their little girl. He was a good father, and she still loved him.

Michonne took his hand and rubbed his back to soothe him. The small hairs across his body stood on end.

.

"If the tested father is not the child's biological father, the results will be an exclusion of paternity. The probability of paternity, in this case, would be 0%, and the Statement of Results on the report will read,"

The magistrate opened the folder to read the results. His skin grew clammy, but, Michonne held his hand as tight as she could. Shane stroked Lori's back. As they waited for the reading to continue.

"The alleged father is excluded as the biological father of the tested child."

And with that, Rick's strength left his legs. Black spots form in his vision as though he is about to faint. Michonne wrapped her arm around him to hold him up to her small frame while his lawyer, Andrea, helped from the other side as his tears began to fall.

"Rick, baby, I'm here, I'm still with you. We're going to be okay; I promise."

"Mr Grimes, I can not possibly imagine what you are currently going through. Given that the paternity of the child in question has been established, The divorce between you and your wife should go smoothly after this, that being said, the two of you already have another child to think about. I expect that the two of you will do what is best for your son during this difficult transition in his life and there will be maturity on both sides given that the little girl knows the two of you as her parents. I wish you both well. Court dismissed."

…

She drove them to her villa. She didn't like to drive but had no choice given Rick had been in a daze since everything happened. She helped him inside, all the way to the downstairs, guest bedroom. He developed a high fever and whatever she gave him to eat or drink; he threw up. Knowing it was going to be a turbulent night, she called her cousin to hold her kids till tomorrow. As she finish the call, she noticed a few missed calls from her parents; four from her mother and one from her father. It was then that Michonne was reminded that her folks would arrive tomorrow. She look at her boyfriend and couldn't help but think,

Oh shit!

Her father would not care about Rick's mental state nor make things easy.

"I know this is hard, but you are so strong, baby; you're going to get through this. We will get through this together as a family!"

She laid next to him, holding her beloved in her arms. He nuzzled into her chest and cried as hard as he could. He hadn't cried like this since he'd been a boy his voice degenerated into a childish whimper. He felt better but was so embarrassed he didn't want to look at her. After going for so long he swallowed dryly, unable to wet his parched throat. Michonne stoked his soft dark hair waiting for him to move at his own pace.

Finally, looking up at her, she handed him a bottle of water with a gentle smile on her soft pretty face. He sat up turning away from her to drink still mortified at his actions. It didn't matter to her, she hugged him as snugly as she could manage, resting her head on his left shoulder.

He is so cute!

"You look like you just had an eureka moment. Your eyes are bigger than your head, Grimes."

"Flattering," said Rick.

Looking at a place somewhere over his shoulder, their eyes met, but he broke it off.

"What do I do now?"

"You move forward; we move forward."

"I know I got to, but that was my little girl…" His voice broke trying to choke the words out.

"I know it may seem cold but what the Magistrate said was both important and true. We have to pick up the pieces for Carl and Judith, for André and RJ too."

"I love you so much!"

"I love you too!"

Their eyes locked in a shared understanding as a tear strolled down both their faces. Closing his eyes Michonne pressed a soft kiss to his forehead as they lay down back on the bed, she caressed his back until he fell into a deep sleep in her warm arm.

…

…

…

…

N.B

This chapter is a little shorter.

Next chapter you guys will meet Daddy and Mommy Hawthorne

Hope you all enjoyed it.

[thebluemoonjune]

The Elegance of Resilience Chapter 3: Bottled up

Chapter 3: Bottled Up

Summary:

With Lori's and Shane's unwelcomed interruption, Rick and his estrange wife get into it with a war of word since the two have come with demands.

"Rick, I'm taking the twins inside. They shouldn't see this. I'll be right back."

Michonne took André and went on her way.

"Good, She's gone!" Lori's face lit up. She smirked in satisfaction, as if she'd won a game.

Rick watched Michonne's weary footsteps take her away. Only when she was out of sight did he turn to look at his estranged wife.

"Your trespassing."

"My children are here. How does that count as trespassing? Don't be dramatic, Rick."

Rick rubbed his temple before putting his hands together. He did his best to stay calm.

"Why are you here?"

"I already said I needed to talk to you."

"About what? You're not welcome here." He softened his voice so the people inside wouldn't hear him, but he sure said it with all the disgust he could muster.

"You're bringing your mistress and her children around my kids?"

Rick's eyebrow twitched. He took deep breaths and gathered his thoughts.

"I took my sons and girlfriend to spend time with the rest of my family… Is that what you wanna talk about?"

"No, but since we're on that subject, I don't want your mistress around my children."

"Michonne and I are together. She's gonna be in their lives whether you like it or not! You gotta lot of nerve when you brought lover-boy here! I don't owe you shit, Lori!"

Speak of the devil. As if waiting for a chance, he opened his mouth for the first time.

Shane Fucking Walsh!

"Rick, man… We just wanna to talk. I know you don't wanna see-"

"Shut the hell up, Shane! Don't make this about you; this ain't about you!"

If there's anyone Rick would've died for other than his family, Shane Walsh would be it. They had known each other since they were seven years old. He was his best man and his children's godfather. Before his father, Herschel, Daryl, or Michonne, Shane was the one he told about anything and everything, including his issues with Lori. Shane was a ladies' man. He ran, and they chased. It's not hard to understand since Walsh was a strapping, well-built man with a strong; yet handsome face. He enjoyed every minute, parading a new one at the hip every few weeks. Rick often tried to convince him to settle down, but he'd say he wasn't ready.

When Rick found out he and Lori had been sleeping with each other for so long behind his back, all he felt was utter betrayal. It wasn't his wife that hurt him most, but the man he'd loved like a brother. Of all the women at his disposal, he had to go for his wife.

"I don't have time for this shit! Say your piece and go!"

Lori fell speechless for a while. The tone in which Rick spoke to her left nothing to the imagination. His visceral reaction shook her. Her hands began to clam up as she bowed her head, her mind desperately searching for the right words. When they still had a relationship, it didn't matter what she did. He'd always find a way to deal with it calmly. He didn't want to be the type of husband who resorted to a screaming match trying to solve problems. She hated it. Sometimes she just wanted to have a regular argument with her husband. Lori, however, never imagined he'd have this in him.

"I asked Shane to drop me off because I needed to see you. I also wanted the three of us to talk. We really should."

"And you thought coming here was the best place to do that? Wow, Lori."

"You wouldn't give me a chance!" she sighed, folding her arms. "I know this is hard for you, but we have kids. It's about them, about Judith, and how we move forward; it's about what we want out of this divorce."

"You've got some nerve, Lori! How could you stand there and preach to me about my children? How dare you?"

Rick's nostrils flared as he stared at Lori, his face contorted beyond recognition. He couldn't believe she had said that to him. He rolled his shoulders back. He didn't even notice Michonne making her way to his side or his parents and uncle coming out to see the commotion. His mother called out to him, but he couldn't hear. Even though he was outside, it's like everything was closing in around him. His mind burned larger and larger with absolute rage.

He was about to burst when he felt a tug at his shirt. It was then that he finally noticed her next to him. He could even see his cousin Maggie peeking out the window. Rick turned around, meeting his mother's eyes, and quickly looked away, not wanting to face her concern.

His Father walked to the four, letting his stern yet low voice loose.

"I don't recall inviting you, Lori. I'm surprised you're here. I thought Rick had Carl and Judy for the next few days. Was I wrong?"

Arthur Colton Grimes, at age 65, is a rigid, straightforward, and no-nonsense man. He spent over 25 years in law enforcement, serving 10 years as King County's sheriff. He looked like an older version of Rick; their personalities, however, were completely different. Rick was more like his mother, Grace, who was open, friendly, and kind to others in need, at least before everything happened. That wasn't the case for the older Grimes.

When Arthur spoke, everyone listened. The man's face was expressionless, but his blue eyes stabbed Lori.

Michonne kept her view on the man. She much preferred dealing with her boyfriend's mother. It wasn't because he'd been distasteful or showed dislike towards her, but because she felt small whenever he'd been around. She remembered the first time she met him at the hospital. He wore cowboy boots and jeans like Rick often did, and though they looked alike, he held none of Rick's warmth. He'd stared at her with the same null expression directed at Lori; Michonne, sure he could see through her.

She knew that look well, as she'd borne witness to it her entire life.

Rapping her hand around Rick, she nuzzled herself under his shoulder, bathing in his heat. Lori, caught off guard, was left standing without a word. Her eyes darted up and down. Before she could utter a sound, Arthur cut her off.

"You wanna talk to Rick, huh?" He stroked his beard, continuing in a monotonous voice. "Mhm, you can, but why are you causing a ruckus… Hmm?"

Resting his foot on the picket fence, he pointed to the large farmhouse.

"There are children inside. My great-niece and nephew. My grandkids, which include yours. This ain't Rick's house or your little boyfriend's. You wanna talk to Rick? At least act like you got some goddamn sense and do it properly."

"I wanted to talk to Rick about next week and everything else. It wasn't my intention to disrupt things. I couldn't get in contact with him, so I came here." She stood still, her pupils dilated and her respiration shallow, trying to settle herself.

Arthur turned to his son, eyebrows raised to high heaven.

"You ain't spoke to her? Why?"

Michonne didn't give Rick the opportunity. "He's been busy. Dealing with everything, you know?".

Rick let out a chuckle, turning his face from the involved parties.

"Then speak. I don't wanna hear you." Withdrawing from the conversation, he returned inside, pulling his wife and brother-in-law with him.

"Shane and I had a discussion... If Judith isn't yours, I wanna give her Shane's name."

"Excuse me? What?"

"He deserves that, Rick. I just wanna do the right thing. Judy deserves that."

"When you were screwing my best friend behind my back for an entire year, that you tryna do the right thing? I raised Judith. She's mine regardless. I don't need either of your bullshit."

Michonne pulled Rick's arm, desperate for the conversation to stay on track "Rick-".

But before she could finish, Lori heckled him. "The same child you demanded a DNA test for. We could have worked it out like you promised. You're the one who left, not me. We may not know about Judith, but you sure showed me."

"Rick, I know things between us are rough, man." Shane took off his hat before rubbing his dark hair. "But if she's mine, I'm gonna be in her life, and I'm gonna be a father. You've already started another family, man. Don't you think it's horseshit? Look, man, I'll fight if I have to; a fight you ain't winning."

"Fuck you!"

"Rick, Stop!" He was brimming with hostility as he marinated in resentment. Michonne's irritation began to crackle regarding the three and their childishness.

"Lori, all of these are things you're supposed to communicate with your attorney. You and Rick can find common ground when your opposing counsel parleys." "I didn't speak to you."

"No, but given that my partner is involved and you came here unwelcomed, I will certainly address you. You can take this as a little free advice from an attorney. You coming here was foolish. If I were Rick's attorney, I would have a field day. Coming to his family's property and harassing him while there are children, including your kids, that you didn't even ask about. Damn! Go home, Lori."

Nearly suffocating at a loss for words, rapid blinking ensued as one tried to process what she'd heard. She'd been completely taken aback by it. Her blood quickened. Inwardly, she was seething.

"I'll call you. I expect you to answer your phone." That's all she managed to articulate before turning on her heel and hopping in the car. Shane followed soon behind her.

"Let's go inside."

...

The day had already gotten off to a tiring start, though it was only a quarter past ten. Michonne knocked on the door to Beth's room.

Herschel Greene had two daughters, Bethany and Margret. Beth was his youngest at nineteen years old, while Maggie was twenty-seven, two years younger than her.

The door opened, and the young lady greeted her with a white, bright grin plastered on her pretty face from ear to ear, and her green doe eyes flashed with expectation.

"Your back!"

"Thanks for watching them."

"No problem!" Beth moved closer and asked in a hushed tone. "Are they gone?"

"Yeah, they're gone. The kids didn't hear anything, right?"

"No, but I'm sure Carl knows. He's thirteen. I'd been Jude's age when I started realising my folks' problems, even if they did their best to hide stuff. He's been quiet, real quiet. Judith's been playing with Herschel and Hana. The twins fell back asleep. I mean, he's a teenager. Can't be easy watching your parents divorce. It's been going on so long too, I don't know."

She shrugs her shoulders, tossing her sight to the floor. Michonne rubbed her blond hair.

"He's a good kid. He's strong too... he'll be okay. The sooner it's over with, the better it'll be for everyone…I'll leave the kids to their thing. Need to talk to your aunt."

"Alright, I'll call when the twins wake up."

Michonne nodded in gratitude, withdrawing from the discussion. Making her way down the corridor; a soft, young male voice hit her from the back, causing her to come to a standstill.

"Michonne?"

"Hey Angel, what's up?" The boy didn't answer at first. Flinging his head to the side, she could see his gears working over time. She didn't rush him. Her face softened, snickering under her breath, she folded her arms, letting him finish.

"Do you know where Dad is?"

"I do, but he's talking to Herschel and your grandfather."

"Oh… My mom was here, right? And Shane?"

"Why all the questions?"

"Because you're the only one that tells me everything."

Tilting her head, she smirked at his little quip.

"She did. She left about 15 minutes ago. With Shane."

Carl stood without moving a muscle, as if rooted to the spot.

"They're in the barn."

"What?"

"Your old man, Herschel, your grand-dad... They're in the barn."

His ears perked up, and like a dog with two tails, he hastily drove his body downstairs to the front door.

"Hey, Carl!"

He halted. "Yeah, Michonne?"

"Don't take me down with you."

"I'd have to get caught first!"

"Touché!". Tears threatened to fall from her glans as laughter consumed her. He went about his merry way.

What a rambunctious kid!

...

Moving into the kitchen, what befell her was Grace galloping across the room expeditiously. Michonne knocked to steal her attention. The older woman did a turnabout, examining the source. Getting her answer, she bloomed full of the joys of spring.

"Chonnie, you're here! Thank God! Thought I was gonna haul ass all over this kitchen, tryna make it in time for lunch. Would've been on time if uninvited guess hadn't shown up. Come help me with the chicken."

Michonne swiftly made her way over, becoming all hands on deck.

"Do I cut it up? Or are you baking it whole?"

"Cut-ups. What did Lori say?"

"If Shane's the father, she wants to give Judith his name. Shane, however, made it clear that he wants custody, full custody… Even if he hasn't said the words."

"They've got some nerve coming here, making demands. My boy raised that girl. What has that big buffoon of a man done?"

Grace diced the chives. Each dice more menacing than the last, as her temper sparked. She was such a pleasant person. To see her like this was always enlightening to the other party.

"When I got back to Rick, I managed to peep some of what they were conversing about. Lori said something that piqued my interest."

"Hmm?"

"It's about what we want out of this divorce.' That's what she said. I'm not a divorce attorney, but in my experience …"

Grace paused her chopping, her knife pointing to the sky. She pivoted her body to meet Michonne's eyes. Her face smouldering with resentment while anger welled up in her chest. Something else lurked there that Michonne couldn't place.

"You mean what she wants from the divorce?" Grace's eyes narrowed; cupping her forehead with her palms, she looked down. The knife still laying in her hands. "You know, I told Rick not to marry her. They were so young, so different. Didn't know shit. My blood just hadn't taken to her. I remember we got into it... we didn't talk up until the wedding, and even then. He told me he loved her, and if I couldn't accept that, I had no place in his life. Herschel tried to fix things between us, but he's twice as stubborn as I am."

Grace put the knife down on the chopping board, tears streaming down her face. She cried but continued.

" I told him that they would fail, and when they did, not to come to me, how someone stupid like him couldn't be my son. I'd been so ridiculous. After Carl was born, things got better, it did… but it was never the same. When Lori did what she'd done, or when he found out about Judith, He should have felt like he could've come to me. There were Herschel and Daryl, but they didn't have what he needed, and Arthur was always hard on him, ever since he was a little boy… A child should always be able to come to their mother, even if the whole world is against them, but I pushed my baby boy away. What kind of mother does that?".

She didn't move. Grace had trouble seeing through the tears. In the house, she sobbed, still holding on.

"When he got shot, all I could do was pray… It was all my fault. My sins were finally coming back to bite me after everything I said, and my Richard was the price. I begged God to forgive me, and maybe he did. It doesn't matter now; I got my boy back... Richard never did, though. It's okay if he doesn't because he's here; that's all I care about. I need him to be happy, and if that whore of a woman thinks I'm gonna let her hurt my son any more than she has, she's lost her fucking mind."

Michonne was left at a standstill. Her mind was working overtime. While she scoured her brain for the best course of action, Grace, however, dried her face, setting off to her incomplete job as if nothing occurred.

"Rick has never held anything against you. He loves you and Arthur; I know it. The two of you should talk." Grace stopped. Her obs flickered and grew damp, seizing a deep gulp of air before resuming the task. The two women spent the rest of their time together in silence.

...

The rest of the day was peaceful. It wasn't often that kids met up. And though the twins were the youngest of the bunch, they stuck to their siblings, and cousins link stink to a skunk. Usually, Michonne and Maggie would be glued to the hip, but Maggie was nowhere in sight. She came for lunch, although she hadn't eaten much.

Rick helped Herschel and Arthur on the farm while Michonne spent the rest of her day with Grace. By the time nightfall came, Rick was exhausted. He took a long, cold bath. When he got out of the shower, he was surprised to see Michonne still awake. She had gotten off the phone, turning to face him.

"Who was that?"

"My Mom… Dad got some time off, so they're coming next week... after you find out. So Tuesday."

Her Boyfriend didn't hide his uncertainty. Understandable since his relationship with her father left a lot to be desired. She didn't want to sour his mood more than it already was, so she changed the subject expeditiously.

"What's up with Mags?" Rick tossed on a bathrobe before throwing his body on the bed. His head was wet, so Michonne grabbed a towel and dried his hair. "Maggie isn't feeling well, and she and Herschel aren't talking, so..."

He watched her raise her bow in confusion, laying his head on her lap and began twirling her nightgown, after making himself comfortable, he went on.

"Maggie's pregnant."

"Really?"

"Mhmm… and she doesn't want it. Maggie wanted to talk to you about it, but you were busy, so she spoke to me after lunch."

"And I'm guessing Hersh isn't having it. It's not a choice I would make for myself, but I'm not Maggie, and Maggie isn't me. She got married young…became a mom young too. Having two young children isn't easy." She played with Rick's curls, continuing her thoughts on the matter.

"Herschel may be her father, but Maggie is a grown-ass woman. It's her and Glen's decision; he's her husband. He should have a say, not Herschel."

"Mhm. She's gonna have to wait till Glen gets back. That's what I told her, but enough about Maggie... We had a long day. Don't you wanna relax?"

Rick stroked her thigh gently as he stared with an impassioned gaze. His intense gaping made her shiver, leaving her with the impression that she was pinned by him.

"You want us to do this here?"

"We got kids together. Ain't nothing they don't know we're doing."

"Touché, Grimes… So what are we doing?"

"How about I just show you?"

His hand travelled up her thigh, exploring the skin under her nightgown. Her mind began to spin, drunk from his touch. She bit her lip, pulled him over, and kissed him. Caressing his back, her heart beat faster and faster as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

And for the rest of the night, they found themselves in a dreamy soundscape, swaying to each other's tune.

[thebluemoonjune]

The Elegance of Resilience Chapter 2: Seeing Red

Summary:

Michonne and Rick have a minor argument. Michonne tell Rick he has to communicate with Lori.

"What?" Rick's face fell as he was still processing what she said.

"Lori called me today. She was trying to get in contact with you." Even though she could see his anger creep up bit by bit, she continued.

"I told her I didn't know anything. You could guess from there." She got up from the table and poured herself a glass of wine.

"Rick?"

"Mhm"

She took a deep breath, then asked, "When was the last time you two spoke?"

He knew Michonne was on edge. At that realisation, he creased his brows in frustration, not at her but at himself. Ever since he woke up, he hadn't been the same. They both knew it. At first, he didn't remember much leading up to getting shot in both his chest and head. He was constantly in a state of agitation and confusion. He slept a lot and often slipped into a daze. Michonne wasn't there when he awoke, but his folks were. They soon explained that she was staying with her parents, that she had given birth there, and how she left to avoid drama with Lori.

He understood he was lucky to be alive, but with the whiplash of everything, he didn't take anything well. Mom decided it would be best for him to complete his recovery with them, so they did.

Rick developed a terrible temper after the incident. One where he was in therapy even now, and he was getting better, but that didn't change the fact that he had triggers, and Lori was one of them. She did a number on him psychologically.

Michonne down her glass of wine, then stabbed him with her gaze, waiting for him to speak.

He got up, picked up his empty plate and glass, and went to the sink, her sight not leaving him once. When he finished washing what he used, he turned to her to meet her huge, cosmic, all-knowing eyes.

He leaned on the counter and took a long, clear look at her before opening his mouth to answer.

"I saw her three days ago when I went to get Carl and Judith," she chuckled.

She couldn't believe he was trying to play with words where she was concerned. She is a damn attorney, and her father is a judge. Who the hell was he trying to fool? Unknown to him, his little attempt did make her night. Nonetheless, She wasn't going to tell him that.

"Grimes."

"Hawthorne."

He was testing her patience, trying to be difficult, but she wouldn't take the bait. She walked into his personal space, then used her hands to trap him where he stood. He looked down at her gorgeous face, and she could see a small, sly smile creep onto his lips as he tilted his head to the side. His blue orbs narrowed as they grew darker.

She admonished him. Her voice was calm but steady. "Don't play games with me, Richard. You won't win."

After a few seconds, he responded. " No. I didn't speak to her. I just took the kids and left."

He said it so bluntly, so matter-of-factly, that he left her speechless, something only he, her father, and her Mommy could do, all three for different reasons.

With Dad, she was like a small, frightened child standing in front of an adult after being caught in a grave crime; she loathed to disappoint him. With her mommy, it's habitually because she said or did something outrageous, like gifting my paternal grandmom a dildo for her 80th birthday.

Rick, however, had a nasty habit of doing things without including others. He didn't respect you, even more so. Carl, Daryl, and herself were the only three he discussed anything with.

He often looked to his father and Uncle Hershel, but that was more when he needed advice from an elder.

"It was my turn anyway. I don't owe her anything."

"Sweetheart, she's the mother of your children. If it were us," he immediately cut off what she was about to say.

"If it were us, we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place." He broke off from her and began to walk away. She quickly followed.

"Rick. Ric- Sweetheart. I'm not trying to take her side. Just listen. Please?"

He stopped and let out a ball full of heavy air, his hands wiping his face before placing them on his hips. She walked before him and rested her hand lightly on his chest.

"You're in the middle of a very tumultuous divorce with a woman you can't stand. Regardless of your personal feelings, you have two children stuck slab-dab in the centre of this mess." She quieted her voice.

"Andrea is gonna do her best to ensure you come out in the best position, and you need to do yours. You already know that you're always gonna be connected to Lori. You have Carl, and even if Judith isn't yours, I know you're still gonna be in her life because that's the kind of man you are, Rick. Try to be civil with her for the kids. You could hurt your chances at a fair custody arrangement."

"You think I don't know that!"

"If you know, then do the right thing! Look, Drea is a fantastic attorney. Just let her do her thing, and you play your role well."

She put her hand on his face and gave him a tender smile. She saw his eyes begin to tear up as he bit his quivering bottom lip.

"I'll find out next week." Rick leaned into her hand and put his over hers. He was scared; that's why he had been acting out. She wanted to kiss all his pain away. A tear finally rolled down his cheek as he looked at the sky. He opened his mouth to speak once again, and she could feel some of the heavyweight he'd been holding.

"I don't think she's mine."

"Oh, baby. Whether she is or she isn't, you still have us. I'll be right by your side. You're not alone, not by a long shot."

He pulled her into a tight hug and buried his nose in the warm nape of her neck.

She wrapped her arm around his back as tightly as she could and asked in a whispered voice.

"Are you tired?"

"Mhmm"

"Wanna take a bath and go to bed?"

"Yeah." He let out a long sigh and squeezed her even tighter. He picked her up and then swung her legs across his waist. He then walked upstairs so they could call it a night.

While walking, she murmured, "Je t'aime."

"I love you too."

He kissed her cheek, and she kissed his. They became lost in their tiny world.

...

When he got up, Michonne wasn't in bed. He knew right away where she'd been. She was ruthlessly strutting her stuff in the Industrial-style kitchen that she so adored. He strolled downstairs, his lover's French record playing in the background. At the end of the trip, he peered at his boys set in their high chairs, chowing down their mini pancakes, their creamy maple syrup brushing his nose. Rick tiptoed to the twin. This time, it was RJ who glimpsed him.

"Daddy, you're up!"

"Daddy!" Andre joined

"There are my boys!" The trio roared with laughter and cackled, letting Rick scoop them up in his arms.

Michonne dissolves into fits of laughter; the sounds of the two balls of innocents help guide her there.

Michonne set Rick's plate on the countertop and hurried to make him his coffee. For a man with a sweet tooth, it befuddled her mind how he could drink it black with no sugar.

"Daddy?" RJ asked

"Yeah, bud?" "Are you staying today?" His bright brown eyes twinkled with expectation.

He and his brother hadn't experienced uninterrupted dad time in three weeks. Andre peered at his father, waiting for his answer.

"I'm sorry. I promised Grandpa and Grandma I would bring you and your brother to see 'em."

"Really!"

"Mhmm. Carl and Judith are gonna be there too. What, you don't want to?" Rick asked with a daring voice.

Andre quickly said, "Yes, we do!"

Slithering out of his father's arms, he dashed towards his mother with lightning speed.

"Mommy, we wanna go." Andre's brown pools glistened as little droplets formed in his eyes.

Michonne picked up the kitchen towel to the left, throwing it at Rick's face.

"Don't tease my kids!" He laughed so loudly that the neighbours could hear him.

She picked up Andre while Rick boldly made his way over and gave his girl a deep, long kiss before grabbing his plate and eating his breakfast with his free hand. The pancakes are heavy, fluffy, and sweet, smothered in maple syrup.

Quite routine for him. He wiped the plate clean, then took the kids to get ready. Since she's an early riser, Michonne long prepared for the day.

...

By the time they were ready, Chonne had finished packing her silver Audi Q7.

She originally had a red BMW M6 Cabrio but traded it in since it wasn't family-friendly.

It amazed him how naturally she eased into motherhood. Was it because she'd been financially stable? Yeah, she did come from money, but she continuously made time for them. Him included. After she gave birth, she stepped away from her job for a while. Put all her focus solely on them.

"You're driving," she said, throwing him the keys. She took the boys and placed them in their car seats. He made his way behind her, grabbing her ass from the back.

"I should've told you earlier, but I love your dress."

Yellow made her dark complexion pop. Rick stared at the thin-strapped garment that clung to her body, stopping above her knee.

"Is that so?" she asked, her teasing apparent.

"Mhmm. It must be because a beautiful woman is wearing it." He confined her between himself and the passenger car door.

Bending his head, he nibbled her left ear. A giggle escaped her mouth.

"Grimes, we need to get going."

"We could stay. Enjoy the day. Lay lazily on the couch with the kids and watch movies all day. Sounds amazing, doesn't it?" His lips danced from her ear to her neck and shimmied across her shoulder. Michonne ducked and Flew under his arm to bypass him.

"Oh, Richard, It sounds just wonderful, but you made a promise, and you wouldn't want to disappoint them." She made a pouty face, pointing her chin to the kiddies in the back. She laughed as they got in the car.

It had been two hours since his drive started. Andre and RJ were asleep. She was extremely thankful because, If they were, her ears would shrivel up and die.

Michonne commenced dozing off until Rick's voice pierced her brain with his thick accent.

"We're almost there. Don't sleep."

She was about to respond when her ringing phone shattered her concentration. She peeked to see who was disturbing her family time. Her stomach twisted in knots, and her back straightened like a board. Michonne swiftly disconnected the call before catapulting the phone into her white coach bag. Rick latched on to every single move. With her twitching nose and heavy air, she let out her nostrils, to the constant tugging of her dress fabric.

Wanting to know, he bluntly asked, and though uncharacteristically gentle, his tone had a slight chill to it.

"Who was that?"

Her eyes widened as her head snapped in his direction. The only thing that came out at that moment was

"What?"

He turned to look at her for about three seconds before settling his attention back on the road.

"It isn't anyone important to us. Okay?"

"Nobody?"

She took a deep breath and then said, "It's Mike."

"As in your ex-fiance, Mike?" Rick chortled at the thought in disbelief as he continued.

"Has he no shame? Why didn't you answer?"

"It's embarrassing. I don't know how to face him."

"Why? Did you do something?"

"Cut the bullshit, Rick."

"You did the man a favour. You were a divorce waiting to happen."

"I wouldn't call leaving a man at the altar doing him a favour. Gosh, you sound like my father sometimes." She threw her head back and rolled her eyes.

"I'm nothing like that rigid old man; however, if you listened, you wouldn't have been with him in the first place."

"If I had listened to my father, you and I wouldn't be together in the first place. I don't regret my relationship with Mike. I wouldn't be the woman I am today without it. I wouldn't be the woman you fell in love with; I wouldn't be the woman who fell in love with you."

Rick turned, laying his pools of blue on her face one last time before driving into the street leading to his family's farm. There's a soft, warm smile.

This woman will be the death of me. That was the only thing that crossed his mind at that moment between them.

"We're here," Rick said.

They got out and collected the boys, careful not to wake them.

"If he calls again, I want to talk to him. Okay?"

"Okay." She hurled back quietly.

Just as they were about to make their way to the farmhouse, a black Hyundai Accent started coming from behind.

It was a cute car and well-kept, Michonne thought.

The black colour suited it well. Michonne, however, for the love of God, couldn't put a face to the vehicle. She looked to Rick for an explanation, only to be left speechless.

Rick knew exactly whose car it was. He balled his hand into a fist, and his brows scrunched together. Blood rushed to his head, and his face dyed red.

Why is he here?

His body swayed as he felt faint. His thoughts were all over the place, and his gut churned. Right then, a hand forced his right fist open and held on for dear life. Michonne was staring at him, fear and anxiety spilling out. He knew he had to reel it in; be that as it may, it was difficult considering there was an additional invited party.

"What the fuck is this?" He yelled, and then two people came out of the car.

One she knew was Lori, and the second she guessed was her boyfriend's former best friend, Shane.

Andre, who slept in Rick's arms, jumped awake from his dad's yelling. Lori and Michonne threw daggers as they ogled one another. It was she who spoke first.

"Hello, Rick. I wanted to talk, but I can't do that if she is here now, can I?"

[thebluemoonjune]

The Elegance of Resilience Chapter 1: Lost of Time

Chapter 1: Lost of Time

Summary:

Life is cruel. This is what Rick believed after the year-long infidelity of his wife with his best friend, and finding out that his daughter may not even be his, but then he met the person who would become his soulmate. However, life seems to have a personal beef with him. It's okay though he will stand his ground and fight for what he wants. This is a morally grey Richonne story about Hurt, Growth, Parent-Children relationships and Healing.

It was a little after 5 p.m. when Rick pulled up to Michonne's villa. Rick didn't get out of his Ford F-150 immediately but instead sat in silence for a while after breathing out a lengthy sigh and driving his hand through his curly, dark brown hair. The sun was beginning to go down, and the sunsets where she and their boys lived were always beautiful. He took it all in as he gathered his words, not wanting to start another fight.

Three weeks. It had been almost three weeks since he saw the three of them, and it wasn't something he was happy or comfortable with, but he knew that his time away from them was best, for her sake. He knew that Michonne was doing what she thought was best for everyone and that he was at fault for most of the mess they were in, and he wanted to fix it.

Chonne, however, never blamed him; in fact, she was always so understanding, so patient, and so calm that he didn't know how to deal with it. When you're the problem and the person you're affecting is that much of a saint, it's a hard fucking pill to swallow.

'It's funny how life works. Lori used to start fights just to get a rise out of me, and I never let her get that reaction that she had so desperately craved and begged for except for one single time. She had finally broken me with her betrayal. It hurt and shook me to my core. Lori and I were already in a bad place for a long time before that, but, it didn't matter. I had no intention of quitting my marriage for the sake of our two children, and when I found out she had broken our vows, I wanted to kill her, but, again for the sake of the children, I still played the part of a doting husband and loving father. But two years after that, I found out that our daughter may not even be mine.

She had lied to my face about how long the affair had been and that she had been sleeping with my best friend, Shane. At that point, I just felt empty. I soon informed our management at the sheriff's office, who happened to be an old friend of my father, so they could transfer either Shane or myself. He was the one chosen, and since then I have done my absolute best to never see Shane. I told Lori that if our daughter Judith was mine, I would try to make it work for the kids, even though I could barely look her in the face. Very few people knew what was going on with my family, as I had only told my parents, my older brother Jeff, my maternal uncle Herschel, and my other best friend Daryl.

Usually, he could talk to either Herschel or Daryl, but he just felt so lost, so hollow. It was during that awful time he met his Chonne.

A one-time thing—that's all that was supposed to be. That's all he wanted it to be. He remembered the both of them standing at the pier, her starting the conversation, her big bright smile that caught him off guard, and her big, bright, dark brown eyes that pierced through him and made his heart flutter like some school girl. Rick didn't like it. He didn't like it, not one bit. He had always been in control of his emotions, and here stood some young woman, what? Twenty-four!? Twenty-five!? Making him a grown 32-year-old man, feel this way. He didn't like it, and yet she had this aura that just put you at ease. When he opened his mouth to speak to her, he remembered that his voice was so gentle, it scared him. He didn't realise then, but he was already gone. In all actuality, they shouldn't have been able to work. He and Michonne were worlds apart.

He was a country boy who grew up on a farm in the small town of King County, Georgia. She was a city girl who was a debutante and went to boarding school. Hell, even now, Rick was just a sergeant in a sheriff's office while she was a young, beautiful, and very capable attorney. Her father is a high court judge, while her mother is an heiress. My father was the former sheriff, and my mother was a teacher. He respected both his parents and their jobs, and in all honesty, his father was the reason he chose law enforcement in the first place, but he would be a fool if he didn't understand the gap between them. It also didn't help that her father hated him, and he had every right. Rick was a mess. Before he and Michonne met, Rick was trying to make his marriage work, and though he was emotionally checked out after he met Michonne, he still stayed with Lori again for his kids.

He tried to get the DNA test done, but Lori would push it back and delay it over and over again. Only eight months into his relationship with the woman he knew was his soulmate did his Chonne get pregnant. He didn't know how to tell his other two children about the situation without them seeing their parents' flaws, and he wanted to shield them as much as possible. He also didn't tell Lori. The less she knew, the better. Rick, however, knew that his marriage could not continue, but first he wanted to know the truth about his daughter. Life was nonetheless unpredictable and cruel. Three months later, Rick would get shot twice in the line of duty and spend almost six months in a coma, missing the birth of his twin boys, André and Rj. It was throughout this difficult chapter that Lori found out about his Chonne and all hell broke loose.

...

It was starting to get dark when Rick finally stopped reminiscing. He got out of the car and once more breathed out a lengthy sigh and drove his hand through his curly dark brown hair, and for the first time that evening, he spoke "I miss them. I wanna see 'em.".

He typed in the code and put in his fingerprint before entering the door after passing the gorgeous flower garden filled with Michonne's favourite, white camellias, at the front.

As he walked towards the living room, he saw her, she was on the phone, probably talking to her cousin Sasha, while looking at the twins playing with their toys on the floor.

Michonne whispered into the phone, then brought it to her chest and turned to look at him with her blinding smile. "Why did you take so long to come in?" her head slanting to the side, asking him playfully with her big, brown eyes flashing at him.

"Hey"

"Hey"

"I missed you guys," he said ever so gently, making his way over to his boys.

"We miss you too. You haven't answered my question yet, Grimes."

Rick sat on the floor behind the twins. "Just gathering my thoughts." Having finally answered her inquiry, he met her gaze.

Michonne spoke into her phone one last time before hanging up for good. All the while, her eyes never dared to leave him. The couple kept their sight glued to the other. The boys were in their own little world before his eldest son, Andre, eventually felt his father's presence. The toddler turned around to see it was his father, and a cheerful look climbed quickly to his face.

The jolly child mustered all the strength in his little legs and dashed into Rick's arms.

"Daddy!" His yelling not hiding his excitement, and André rubbed his face into his father's neck.

RJ finally raised his head and soon followed.

...

Michonne got up to finish her call with Sasha, leaving her three favourite people in the living room full of laughter. After half an hour on the phone with her cousin, she went to the kitchen to prepare something for Rick. She knew that after tiring the boys out, he would give them a bath and put them to bed. By then, he would have worked up an appetite. In record time, he entered, cuddling her from behind, laying down sweet little kisses on her neck as she giggled. She should have been used to this by now.

She placed his Chicken Alfredo on the dining table before he sat down and dug in. He always said her food went her ass, but she didn't know where his food went. Is it that smart mouth full of Southern charm, maybe? She enjoyed watching him eat, and she wanted to make sure he was full before inexplicably ruining his night with what she was going to tell him.

It did not matter how much she and Rick loved each other, the fact that they had children, or even if he hated Lori. The ugly and undeniable truth was that she was technically a mistress, even if he hated to hear it. Even if he'd never seen her that way. When he was fighting for his life in the hospital and later stuck in that coma, it hit her square in the face that she was not his wife.

It was Lori, plain and simple. Lori had already suspected Rick, and when I showed up at the hospital crying and almost six months pregnant, it was obvious. She did her best to make sure I couldn't see him, and if not for his parents, I wouldn't have. She harassed and berated me almost during my entire remaining pregnancy. Regardless of what was wrong with her and Rick, I was indeed the third party, so I couldn't blame her, but I wasn't gonna put up with the stress either, so I put my practice on hold and stayed with my parents in New York away from the drama. I gave birth there, and his mom even came to see the boys for a few days. Rick woke up a little under two months later. And though it was a happy thing, he still had a lot of work to do to get back to normal, divorce and paternity woes aside.

Michonne was in no way a victim in this situation, even if her beloved saw it so. Not her, not Rick, and not Lori. They slept together the night they met, and he told her everything after. She chose to love and be with him regardless. The actual victims were Rick's son Carl, his daughter in question, and my two boys. They were the ones getting the short end of the stick.

Now that he is in a better place physically and mentally, Rick started from where he left off. But. The divorce was nothing short of tumultuous. Both sides took offence, leaving the battlefield bloody. She didn't want her boys involved with this shitshow as much as possible, and her old man even more so.

Her father, Reynard Augustus Hawthorne, was a prideful, upright, and powerful man. He was the one who shaped her mind, whether it was how hard she worked or how she carried herself; he was her teacher, the person she looked up to the most. Her mother doted on her and tried to spoil her every chance she got. At the same time, her old man always said that he and her mother were rich, but she wasn't. Just like him, she had to work twice as hard as he did to reach where he was in life. People respected his name not because of who he married, what he looked like, or whatever preconceived notions they may have. When they heard his name, it meant something. It had all he did behind it. It didn't matter if they hated him; his name meant something.

Unlike my mother, my father didn't grow up with a silver spoon in his mouth. He got where he was on his merit. So for a man like that, imagine his disappointment. He blamed me for being naive, for putting myself in this arduous predicament. He still loves me despite his tough love, though. I understood that better than anyone else ever could, even my mother, and pushing aside his feelings for Rick, he adored his grandchildren. Which is why he'd started pushing for me and my boys to move permanently to New York with him and my mom.

This was the last form of contention between the man she loved and the father she respected. Rick tried his best to respect her father, but when her dad actively wanted to separate the two, he just was not having it. He had lost time with them during and after he got shot, and he was actively trying to get everything to fall into place. She tried to reassure him that she was still with him, but she could see him unravelling, which broke her heart. Dad, on the other hand, did not care. He knew the ins and outs of the situation since, other than Rick, she told her mommy everything, and her mommy always told her dad. He may have shown his tough love, but he was also very protective of her, his only daughter, his little girl.

"Penny for your thoughts?" the low southern voice asked.

Michonne broke out of her mind to see those hauntingly beautiful blue eyes staring at her with a confused look on his face, searching hers for answers. His plate and glass lay clean.

"What's wrong?" His head perked up. "Did something happen?"

She kept her face pleasantly neutral and calmed her voice, as she usually did when attempting to deal with a difficult or awkward situation.

"Lori called me today."

[thebluemoonjune]

The Sounds Of A Black Dahlia- Chapter 2

Family Affairs

Summary:

Michonne and Shane have a 'heart to heart'. Confessions and truths come out. Secrets everywhere. Things in the family are being set in motion.

The whole building was closed off as the police gathered everyone who wasn’t in the vestibule or main hall to take questions. Anyone who’d been seen slipping out during that time. She had made sure to let them know that he was with her on the second-floor balcony attached to the lounge before they segregated Rick, who’d been Holly’s date. Michonne had heard him whisper, ‘They killed her’ as the corpse rolled out. She was confused. How could he have known she was murdered? What was it that he was hiding? Who did he think was responsible for the young woman’s death? Why would they kill her? The more questions that plagued her, the more suspicious she grew of Rick. The longer she thought about what happened, the harder it became holding onto the fleeting illusion of security. Standing outside the dark 1:00 a.m. sky, the wind brushed against her exposed skin. A faint sound rang out in her clouded mind; each toll of the bell caused her heart to stammer, all while her body remained impossibly, unnaturally, and agonisingly rooted. It was almost as if she'd fallen into a catatonic state. Her silver heels and the hem of her red dress were the only objects in her sight. It was when a warm suit jacket dropped on her chilled, exposed shoulders that she’d freed herself from the cage she called her mind.

“Rick… Are they done?”

“For now, I guess…” Rick placed his hands in his pocket, staring at where Holly fell. “From what I can tell, they don’t got much to go on. This is tryna find a needle in a haystack.”

“You think someone killed her? You said it yourself; I heard you.” Michonne stepped closer, her brown pools stirring.

“I ain’t denying it. I know someone did.” He stepped closer as well, leaving no gap between the two. Unlike her jittery persona, Rick mimicked a predator on the prowl. “Gonna have to go to the station tomorrow. This is probably gonna be ruled a suicide. I’m sure that’d make you happy to know.”

“What do you take me for?”

“A liar for one.”

“You got some nerve! Let me make this absolutely clear—”

“Michonne!”

“Shane…”

“I heard what happened. You okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m not the one who’s dead.” He places his hand on her back. In an attempt to comfort her. “Rick, I’m sorry, man. Would’ve come sooner if they ain’t have us hauled up in there.”

“No worries. I got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I’ll leave you two to it.” He pranced away, not giving them a heads-up as he waved them bye.

“Just like that?”

“Your brother’s date just died; he has to go to the station in the morning. Don’t be insensitive.”

“I ain’t tryna. He just left in a hurry; ain’t even take his jacket… You wanna talk?”

“Not right now. I’m ready to go.”

Shane got the driver ready whilst she waited. They bid goodnight to her in-laws and left, discreetly, unaccompanied by the media, clamouring for a spectacle on their backs. People rushed past each other on the sidewalks, cars honked and screeched on the streets, and sirens wailed in the distance. 

The car ride was silent for the first half, with the couple’s breath being the one indication of people in the back seat. Shane studied the way Michonne tilted her head towards the window. The lack of sound was overwhelming, so he went against his instinct and asked,

“Chonne, mind telling me what happened? Why you weren’t in the hall?”

The way her eye twitched was enough to tell him to stop pressing for an answer. He was thankful to know she was here, her heart still beating, body bumping with blood. He wouldn’t press on.

“You ain’t gotta answer… It must be hard.” He inched closed and interweaved their fingers.

“I’m sorry. I’m being unfair.”

“Nah. Like you said, I’m being insensitive.” As he diverted his gaze, Michonne spun her body to find a middle ground.

“Shane, I have something to tell you… Your father isn’t giving you control like you thought.”

“What? Where’d you get this from?” His brows progressively lifted in anticipation of clarification.

“I— Shane… I overheard your parents talking about it. Well, fighting if I’m being real here… Eleanor didn’t know; she let him have it in the second-floor lounge. He never intended to give you control, He hasn’t decided on a successor yet… I’m sorry.”

“No, no… No. Nah. You fucking with me? Is this about the same shit earlier?” His eyes squinted at the confused tangle of facts in front of him, irritation and disbelief visible in his expression. He didn't want it to be true. He needed it not to be.

“I am not that petty… It’s true. You can ask Eleanor. She’ll confirm it… I’m sorry.”

Shane sat there, licking his lips uncomfortably, indicating his inability to find the perfect words to communicate his perplexity. Not uttering a single word, the rest of the ride. His face turned blank, a sharp contrast to the resentment that had been present only moments before. After they made their way through the outer security gate, the Guard at the front of their horseshoe driveway ushered them in. Shane didn’t wait for her; hopping out of the car, his footsteps echoed from the granite walkway and steps, making heavy strides to their home. She grabbed her purse in hot pursuit.

“Shane!”

“I need to think!” He unlocked the front door and stormed down the hall to the living room, where he dawdled around, as if he couldn’t remember where he was supposed to go. 

“You still have your 3%.”

“And what the fuck am I gonna do with 3%?”

“You still have a say. You bide time till you’re in a position to fight back. Shane… He wants you to fight back. We’ll talk to K; you do your part. We need Eleanor too; she’s not going to accept this… Shane, do you really want this?”

“What?”

“Briton. You don’t have to…” drawing nearer and cupping his face to continue, “Is it worth it?”

“Yes, it’s worth it. I'm doing this for us, for them! It’s ours!”

“Alright, tomorrow, I’ll go to my mother. You remember my aunt, right?”

“The one married to Sean Monroe?”

“Yeah, I’ll get my mother to help facilitate a meeting. If we can win her, she can help us win over Deanna Monroe.”

“That’s…good.”

“When Morgan Jones comes back from the Bahamas, you’ll have a meeting. He thinks you’re taking over, we need to see if he’ll still take your side.”

“We’ll follow your idea.” His gaze held a warm intensity that whispered of deep affection. With her plan coming together at the last minute, she fell onto the couch with a pleased sigh.

…

Michonne gazed at Andre and Maliyah sleeping soundly in her bed. Sometimes when their dad wasn’t home, or ran late, they would sneak into her bedroom while she was in the shower, only to fall asleep before she had the chance to catch and send them back. If she was being honest, she didn’t mind these little antics at all. She would lengthen her bath sometimes just so they’d fall asleep waiting for her. Maliyah was a messy sleeper, often contorting her double-jointed body all over the place, making it hard to share a bed. Her big toe, currently in her brother’s nose. Michonne crackled to herself, fixing her distorted body. Admiring her three-year-old, her mind unexpectedly ran to Rick’s words on the balcony the night before.

“And what if I said Lori was part of it?”

“So you admit there are other reasons.”

“I admit that you’re gonna be crying soon. John made it so.”

He obviously intends to fuck everything up! How did he know about Lori? Did she say anything? What else does he know?

“I expect a visit from you soon. I’ll text my number.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Shane. Specifically, the children…”

“Is this a threat?”

“No, darling… But you need an offer from me. I don’t wanna be an enemy to you of all people.”

So Michonne… What’s the play… How do you deal with this… What does he even want from me? Fucking bastard!

Michonne ran to her dresser, picking up the rose-coloured diary Lori had entrusted her with. Shane never went through her stuff, except the night he rummaged through the house in a fiery rage four years ago, so he didn’t know about this. If Rick started whispering in her husband’s ear, she’d have to guard against it, for everyone’s sake. It was a can of worms that no one needed. He was already in the running for COO from what she gathered from Shane’s call before he went to the office. 

The kids’ room—that's where I’ll hide it for now.

And so it was. Michonne placed it in the kids’ shared walk-in closet, far from the children's reach. She was the only adult who entered here, not even the housekeeper, Mary, as Michonne preferred to clean the bedrooms herself. Leaving her kids to sleep upstairs for a while, she went downstairs for a glass of wine. She needed it. To her surprise, passing the living room to go to the kitchen and the wine cellar, she met her husband sprawled out on their U-shaped, navy blue corner sofa, tie loose on his neck, suit jacket on the side, brown eyes stuck on her in the dimly lit room. Michonne held her chest in momentary fright.

“I didn’t know you came in.”

“I thought you were sleeping… Ain’t wanna disturb you… The kids?”

“Asleep… In my bed.” Even standing a couple feet away, even in the dim room, she could see the tiredness and frustration in his eyes as they were motionless and far away. Not from her, but outside. Regardless of it, he still snickered at the news.

“Can’t catch a break… Can I get a drink?”

“Why? There is no reason to.”

“Ain’t you heading for a drink yourself?” His lips curled into a tired sneer.

“And what makes you say that?”

“Why else are you headed towards the kitchen? Why not?” Michonne sighed.

“I was but you know why. When you’re stressed, which you obviously are, you tend to not know when to stop.” She folded her arms.

“Just one glass… Just one.” They stared at each other for an entire minute before she gave in.

“All right. Just one then…”

She strolled over to her original destination, grabbed a bottle of Pinot Noir from the cellar,  went to the kitchen to Shane’s rum cabinet and took an almost finished bottle of bourbon. Holding the bottles with one hand, she grabbed a wine and a rum glass with the other before returning to the living room. Shane cast his gaze on his wife’s every move. From her placing the two glasses on the large, rustic, handmade, blackwood coffee table Rick and he had made after their son was born. She sat, opened both bottles, poured each into their respective places, rested them back on the table, and got up, passing through the gold bead curtain, where she began setting ablaze the sandalwood incense on the corner table. Shane looked around the room, from the marble flooring and the family portrait to the abstract black, navy and gold mural, completely covering the wall behind him, that Michonne painted five years prior. They had made this home together for their family. When he spun back around, she was standing four feet away. He took in his wife. He thought her a peculiar person. Always prim and proper, only allowing a flaw within her bedroom. 

“Want me to play something?”

“Nah… come sit.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Shane raised his head gently, trying to calm his eyes. He didn’t kiss her, but instead gripped her chin, forcing her to look back at him. He drew her in closer, taking her on his lap and placing his left hand on her waist, his right hand on her jaw. They remained in that posture for a minute, just breathing each other in. On his breath, she could smell whisky. He hadn't drunk from the glass she poured yet, so it became obvious that he was drinking prior to returning home.

“This is good… It’s good”

“How much alcohol did you have before this?”

“I passed by a club with a few buddies of mine.”

“Why?”

“Destress, have fun... Don’t worry, I ain’t cheated on you. We both done had enough of the behind the back stuff, right?”

“Shane.”

“No need to pretend like it ain’t happened... It’s in the past… We’re grown enough to talk about it. At the time, I wanted to snap that pretty neck of yours, but, in hindsight, that’s quite the lick back. To think you almost had another man's baby.”

“I don’t want to talk about this—”

“I should’ve been at the hospital…” He tugged her back after she tried leaving. “When you got home and I saw her, I knew our little girl was a Walsh, that she had my blood.”

Shane kissed Michonne after she gulped. He didn’t stop, repeatedly capturing her lips so that when she breathed, he was the one she was taking in. She pushed his chest two times to distract herself from the sensations he was instilling in her, and he followed, grabbing her around the waist once more. Michonne put her arms around his neck, and they both felt as if they were about to fall. Michonne grabbed at the back of his shirt, wanting it off, as he raised her body to slide her panties down in a frenzy and she unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock. He was distracted by nibbling her, especially as he kissed down her jaw and began on her neck. 

Sex was a drug for both of them. It was how they solved their problems, regardless of what the problem was. They didn’t waste time with foreplay and she was already wet so she lifted her hips and lowered onto him. He grunted and air caught her throat. He held her tight as he slid his body down and she rested her head on his shoulder as the husband and wife went to work. They pounded till her shrieks entered a crescendo while both their climax drowned them. Shane felt his dick quiver and the warm dripping of his come painting his cock and her insides white. Descending from their highs, they clung to each other for a while, their chests heaving heavily and their noses buried in the creeks of the other’s neck.

“You still on your birth control?”

“Why?”

“Ain’t seen you take it recently.”

“My mind’s been hectic. I’ll take a pill in the morning.”

“Don’t bother. I think it’s time we had another kid… Lia’s three; I’m sure she won’t mind another sibling.”

“Is that something you want?” She lifted her head to see his face while he was still inside her.

“Of course… I’d have a hundred babies with you if possible. I never wanted you on birth control anyways… We weren’t in the best place at the time, so I never said nothing.”

“You make it sound so simple.” She turned away from him.

“Why can’t it be? We’ve hurt each other enough. A baby can mean so much. It can mean we forgave each other.”

“I thought we did.”

“Have we really?” His lips pulled into a half-formed, smile. “Every time we get into a scrabble or fight, you bring up the d-word. I know you don’t mean it; hell, you been saying it since forever, but it ain’t never made it easier; even if I’d never give you a divorce. You, the kids, y’all are the most constant thing that I care about in my life…”

“I’m not going to just up and leave. I promise you that, but what about her?”

“I told you—”

“You told me a lot of things. You told me that it was complicated, that the two of you had kids together, that she was in the picture before me, that it wasn’t her fault... that you loved her.”

“Michonne—”

Michonne carefully lifted herself from her husband, still very tender from their tumble, and rose from the sofa. She put on her panties, turning away from him. Michonne moved to the kitchen, grabbing the empty rum glass without looking back at him. 

A cruel man is what you are.

7 years 7 months prior

Michonne's delight shines through the windows of her eyes more brightly in the dawn.  There is a deeper sweetness in the morning that resonates within and finds a way to express itself. Michonne had that. Her first pregnancy was, on some days, an epic voyage of vomiting and sickness that lasted all day; other days, none at all, not even a smidgeon. She'd gotten up late that day yet miraculously managed to kiss her spouse goodbye, nausea and all. She wrangled her will, snatched a book from her unread collection, and marched downstairs, reluctant to spend the day in bed. Her nutritionist, whom Eleanor had 'given' to the couple after her pregnancy was revealed, prepared her a well-portioned and balanced meal that she could eat and that she much loved. In the group chat, she texted Sasha and Maggie, beckoning them to come visit and keep her company. She was reading 'The Paris Wife' by Paula McLain while waiting for her friends when the house phone rang. Michonne got up, fully expecting it to be her mother-in-law, but was met with the unfamiliar voice of a woman, a young woman.

“Hello. You must be Michonne.” The woman giggled on her end.

“This is her. Who is this? Do I know you?”

“Yes! I know you—very very well, but you don’t know me, not yet at least.” There was a sing-song pitch to her voice.

“Look, I don’t have time for nonsense—”

“I have news about your husband. You’ll want to hear it.”

“Who is this?”

“I’m Jessie. Jessie Anderson… Shane and I have been together for over four years, now.” Michonne held still, attempting to digest what she had just been told. “We have a son together; he’s three. And I’m currently pregnant again—almost seven months. I was wondering if we could meet up. You know… talk?”

“What did you say your name was again?”

“Jessie. Jessie Anderson. I understand it’s a lot to take in but—”

“Jessie, don’t call this house again, or I’ll have you served.” She disconnected the phone and hurled it across the living room with unexpected strength. Her demeanor soon grew misleadingly serene, her astonishment confirmed by a vain popping grip on the living room bookcase next to her.

That woman just wanted to stir up trouble! How dare she say something like that? It’s not true true; I know it’s not…

Present

Shane sprang up, hurriedly adjusting his clothing and striding after her. She had already rinsed the glass. He noticed her standing in the center with a dish towel, but her eyes hadn’t risen from the icy grey tiles. He couldn’t help running his fingers through his black hair with shaking hands. It was unclear how long they remained at a stand-still, but his gaze never left her, not once. He quietly walked over and embraced her from behind, resting his chin atop her head.

“Can you give me some time?”

She heard him. She heard the begging and the worry in his voice, though no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to answer his question. His grip tightened.

…

Walking through the stone garden, full of Saucer Magnolia trees, the bustling sound of murmurs greeted the four of them. Sasha agreed to accompany her and the kids back to her maiden home, given Michonne had long ceased to have the mental fortitude to deal with her maiden family, especially that of her mother and older sister. It was understood that there’d be a clash for blowing them off at the party, though she’d hoped they’d let it go given the unfortunate catastrophe that took place, it nevertheless became apparent when her mother didn’t come out to greet her and the butler had been rather ‘formal’ even to her children. Two could play that game. Just because she wanted something didn’t mean she’d become the begging dog; they’d do well to remember they needed something from her too. They sat at one of the woodland stone tables where guests gathered.

“Andre, sweety.”

“Mama?”

“I won’t keep you here to bore you. Go play, but you know the rules.”

“Sweet!” 

He dug deep into his mother’s Birkin bag with level speed in search of his case holding his marbles. The little fox didn’t even wait for any other words from his mother or his aunt Sasha, simply taking off with a wide, mischievous grin on his face.

“That little brat!” Sasha let out all her playful shock, fixing little Lia in her hand. “AJ didn’t even wait! Who in God’s green heaven does that little twerp take after?”

“Well, at least he’s not craving your attention today.”

“Does that mean he’s growing up?” She pouted. “Our baby’s growing up!”

“More like he’s acting his age.” Michonne giggled at her best friend’s overreaction while she reached over to stroke her daughter’s chubby, dimpled cheek.

“Mama? Can I go?”

“Oh, baby girl… No, you can’t.” Michonne wouldn’t let her run freely with all these people present. Maliyah was smart, but small for her age. “Hang out with me and your aunt Sash then later, we’ll get that bike I promised you, I’d even get you a doll. It’s that okay?”

“You prowmise!”

“I promise, baby! I promise.”

“Can we go see Daddy?”

“Uhm, I don’t know, babygirl. Daddy’s really, really busy with work.”

“Oh.”

“How about after we leave, we call your dad and ask? If he’s too busy, let’s go to the playground and have fun.” Sasha kissed her cheek and patted her curly, dark hair, and she in turn smothered her petite face in her aunt’s neck.

The children missed their father. He’d been coming home late for months and with the recent transition of CEO, they barely saw him anymore. Andre, being the ‘big boy’, pretended it didn’t affect him; Lia, on the other hand, being a daddy’s girl, didn’t take it well. Michonne and Sasha stared at each other, not knowing how to respond.

“Michonne! Sasha!”

“Jocelyn! Hey!”

“Jocelyn…” Sasha couldn’t pretend to have Michonne’s enthusiasm for the woman who stood before them nor did she care to.

“I didn’t expect to see you both here, especially you, Michonne, since everything happened to that girl. It must’ve been hard for your family; I mean, it’s not the first time something like that has happened. Bad luck, I guess.” This caught the attention of the nearby women. Sasha rolled her eyes; Michonne, however, graced her with a smile.

“Ah yes, it’s been hard for my family; no one likes to witness death; I’m sure it’s harder on the victim’s family. It would be insensitive and tone-deaf to the ones truly affected by this tragedy. As for my attendance today, I should take the time to visit my maiden home when I have the chance, shouldn’t I?” Michonne sat in anticipation of a response, while Sasha smirked, eyes sharp as a hawk’s.

“Your right. Well, I should leave you to it.” They watched her walk away when Sasha spat out all her disgust.

“That fucking bitch… This is why I hate coming to these dumb things. How you have the patience, I’ll never know.” Maliyah perked up, reminding her aunt of her presence.

“You said naughty words!”

“Those aren’t words for you to repeat. If I catch you saying it, I’ll beat your bum. Don’t say that word; that’s a bad word.”

Michonne was about to add to the discussion when a young man, probably a worker on the estate, whispered a message intended for her ears only. It was from her, a childhood friend who happened to be the daughter of her old nanny, who worked here like her mother did. The more she heard, the more her chilling stare drilled into an unseeable foe, making it difficult for the other ladies to ignore the shift in aura. As she leapt up from her seat, her mouth pinched shut, as if keeping back what she truly was tempted to say, although her tensing jaw, expanding chest, and toned shoulders pushed back made her tiny body appear larger and more formidable, indicating her deep ire.

“Michonne? What is it?” Sasha, knowing her friend, asked in an effort to help.

“You stay with Lia I have a bit of family issues to address. I’ll be back.” And with that, she marched off, not spearing a second thought.

When Michonne arrived, her eyes met with her son’s, who was bleeding from a slash on his face, kneeling on the floor. He was teary as he bit his lip, trying not to cry in front of these irreverent people. Not only did John despise it, but her boy was as proud as she was and would never allow outsiders to see him that way, even though he was just a six-year-old boy. Her blood began to boil but she kept her face and tone neutral and almost lifeless as she addressed the adult, ignoring Macie’s son and the maid who stood with them. Her family was very ‘ traditional ’. Michonne knew they were going to beat him. She cast her head straight ahead at the woman she called mother.

“What is this and why is my son bleeding?” She walked to her child.

“Before you come in guns blazing, Mrs. Pompous, he did it to himself! It’s my Kyle you should be showing concern about! We had to pull that animal off him! On top of that, he broke the jade vase that Mom just won at the auction last week and called my child illegitimate and me a prostitute!”

“I didn’t; they’re lying!”

“Did you?” She made sure to watch his every movement, though she already knew the truth. Just in case.

“I called them names because he hit me first! I didn’t do the other stuff! They’re lying! Mom, I’m telling the truth.” She stroked his curly black hair and pulled him closer.

“I know, baby. I know.” She whispered, giving him comfort that she was on his side.

“Kyle said you did so you did! Plus, the maid saw it.”

“Is that so?”

“Instead of antagonising everyone, you should do your duties as a mother; he should be punished and apologise for his action. He behaves like this because he sees how you act.”

So this is what it’s about...  The party? Trying to embarrass me, trying to punish me by using my child, okay…

Michonne stared coldly at her mother and felt sick to her stomach. Even at her own all-white party, Michelle Marie Hawthorne stood in a dark green knee-length Chanel dress with cream-coloured pearls on her neck and hair in a neat side part bob cut, right hand placed gracefully over her left right above her belly as overseer, all her close friends watching. She wanted her to stoop to her, but she would not, nor would her baby boy.

“Sweetheart, say your piece.” He looked up at her and she nodded in approval.

“We were playing marbles and I won all of ‘em!”

“No, you didn’t! You cheated!” Kyle finally came out from behind his mother, showing his black eye.

“Yes, I did! He didn’t wanna pay up so I took ‘em myself! And then, he hit me and we started fighting, and then the vase broke! When I was on top of him, he cut my face! So I beat him up some more and called him names!”

“He’s a liar! He cut himself!”

“Just because you got caught doesn’t mean you get to blame my son! The maid saw it!”

“And what exactly did your maid see? How did my son cut his face? What’s your name?”

“Vivian…”

“Well, go on, Vivian; let’s hear and don’t stall!”

“You! This is not your place; you don’t get to come to my house and disrespect the individuals here! Including your older sister.”

“I’m just trying to find out what happened, mother. Vivian.”

“Well, uh… He wanted the young master’s marbles and when he wouldn’t give them to him, she started attacking the young master verbally and physically, so much so that I had to pull him off.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. He was acting like an animal.” The young woman took a stance similar to that of the matriarch standing at the front. Macie was going to add but Michelle raised her palm to cease.

“Michonne.”

“Mother.”

“Since the truth is out and there’s a witness, no need for this wild display any longer. And since you cannot discipline him well, I’ll do it as his grandmother. Vivian, get the stick.”

“My son is many things but a liar isn’t one of them. My son never lies. Look at the other one. Have him open his hands.”

“Why are you blaming him?” Her sister snapped in annoyance.

Michonne didn’t even look at her sister and mother. She walked over to her nephew, prying his hands open, revealing a piece of the broken antique jade vase. She took it and tossed it on the floor for the room to see. Strolling back to her son, who gazed at her with soft eyes and a grin, he held her hand and gave a teasing gaze to Kyle. Vivian got quiet as she bowed her head, not daring to add more.

“Malicious woman!”

“I am deeply sorry! I—” She turned to Michelle, then to Macie. Neither gave attention.

“Kyle should not have raised his hand first and Andre should not have called him names or tried to take what wasn’t his; it led to this mess. But still, it was squabbles of children. It was just a vase. No real harm done. Let us leave this here.”

Michonne’s giggle was soft and tinged with fascination at the situation. Crossing her arms over her chest, she tried to take her breath in response to the criticism directed at her kid.

“AJ, baby?”

“Yes, mom?”

“Do you know where you went wrong?”

“Mhmm…” His voice was hushed. “I shouldn’t have called him bad names and fought him—”

“Wrong! I taught you to defend yourself. If someone hits you first, then by all means you have the right to hit them back, but I also thought you should come to me when I’m there.”

“I’m sorry…”

“You shouldn’t have called him names but that’s not your fault; it’s mine.” She said it louder so everyone could hear it. “It’s my fault for speaking such things as the child’s birth around him.”

“You shouldn’t have said it in the first place!”

“Why not?” She covered her son’s ears. “Is it not the truth? Did you not go after your best friend’s married father and destroy a home? Is your child not a product of your behaviour? You go after any wealthy man you can get your hands on, regardless of who they belong to. You’re a high-class prostitute, a courtesan if we’re being classy.” Michonne brushed her locs back nonchalantly.

“How dare you; you bitch?”

“The responsibility of André’s discipline falls to me and his father. Touch my child again and see…”

“You should clear this up, Mother, lest others think my son is going around bullying his cousin because he believes himself better, an opinion you and Macie seem to share.”

“Are you going against me?”

If I don’t put a stop to this today, there is sure to be a next time. I’ve gone through it enough with these people, but it ends today. I won’t put my children through it again, bridges be damned!

“My child was accused of things he didn’t do; an adult lied on his name and you and Macie even intended to beat him without so much of a hesitation! His face was even cut in the process. Do you think what Kyle and the maid did was right? If he’s right, André will have to bear the fallout. Think about it carefully. If they are wrong, then there should be some punishment, like what you wanted to inflict on my son. Tell me.”

“You disrespectful—”

“Would you rather I lie? Would that feed your ego better? Would that make you feel better and finally give my son some justice?”

“How dare you!”

“Mother, you should do the right thing.” Michonne only knew her brother had entered the fray when he stepped next to her, backing her up. “The maid should be fired. As for him, give him the stick.”

“How can you just choose her side? Am I not your sister too? Is he not your nephew too?”

“It’s not about sides! It’s about principles! He actively lied to get someone else in trouble. What kind of vindictive shit is that?”

“Michael, don’t play favourites! They are both your sisters. I decided to let it go so that, as cousins, they should not hold grudges against each other. I will deal with Vivian.”

“You talk to Mike about favouritism? You’ve been playing favourites my whole life.”

“Chonne… Don’t.” She ignored her brother’s plea.

“No. I have never been able to get away with any of the shit that both Mike and Macie have done. Not once! I didn’t understand then, but I’m not a kid anymore. I did everything I was supposed to do. The two friends I have are a result of my knowing my place.”

“Ungrateful! After everything Mom and Dad have done for you, to stand there and make it sound like you’re some victim! But what was I expecting? You’ve always been a pompous, self-absorbed, attention-seeking bitch who always got what she wanted. You had your whole life planned out for you and it still isn’t enough. You fucking bitch.”

“It just irks you that I’m better than you in every single way, doesn’t it? Whether it’s grades, the arts, or just any attention I got from others at all. You are such a jealous—”

“So you admit your father and I treated you fairly.”

“Fairly? There was a point in my life when I wasn’t allowed friends mother, when Mike and Macie were. They were allowed that and going out and make mistakes. Mike could kill someone and he’ll still be your sweet boy. Any affection I got was tangent on my behaviour and how I reflected on our family. Macie is so jealous of my marriage that she should’ve had. And we all know even your friends watching us know why.”

“What are you talking about, bitch?”

“Shhh, Mace, I’m getting to that. I wasn’t supposed to marry Shane… You were. But because of your love for married men, you got knocked up and Mom and Dad couldn’t give you the life you wanted because of your actions. In our oh-so-traditional family, you got knocked up and nothing from them! Nope, nothing! They just quietly moved on to me. So you see, dear sister, I’m not the one they planned for.”

“The life that you have now is because your father and I gave it to you.”

“Yes, I can’t dispute that… However, I remember Dad’s words, I’m a Walsh; my responsibility is to my current family, so my children have nothing to do with you nor do I. This is the last time I’ll come here.”

“Disrespectful child!”

Michonne gripped her son tight and bypassed every single person, not spearing a glance. She was dead serious. Both she and Sasha decided to make good on their commitment. When they arrived, Sasha took the kids inside so Michonne made a call. No one would hurt or use her children and she’d never let this incident go, waiting for the right time for a home run. The first step in this was to let her spouse know. Shane, however, was currently on the necks of his board of directors.

“What are we? Answer. That’s a real question.”

“Our business model is scalable: Our brand fuels many value propositions and generates diverse revenue streams. Briton's business isn’t just about making movies and selling news; it’s also about creating and sustaining brands.” The short, curly-haired man named Aaron stated it matter-of-factly.

“Exactly!”

“That being said, we are an all-American multinational mass media and entertainment conglomerate that people want to see fail... Becoming a monopoly is not the best move.” Aaron surmised, knowing it was not what Shane wanted to hear. Soon after, an Asian woman chimed in.

“He right. Maybe we should slow down and focus on our current situation. Stabilising is the most important thing. Let me say, may that girl rest in peace, but the bad press is hurting us and we have the issue with the bank.”

“We’re already a fucking monopoly. Bad press; what a fucking joke. We’re a fucking multi-media company. Who’s fucking us, huh? Who, just who’s gonna tell my old man no? Yumiko, I get it… I do.” Her shrewd decisions were why the company survived the last depression without any major damage, he’d still fight. “It still don’t mean shit. If we privatise, it helps?”

“Well, yes but that is not—” A phone rang.

“Hold on…” Shane hurried out, putting his phone in his ear.

“Babe. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“You can’t rely on my family... I kind of disowned them... about fifteen minutes ago.”

“What happened? The phone went quiet. “Chonne, talk to me.”

“They slashed your son’s face.”

“You serious? You being real right now?

“Yeah, I’m being dead serious!”

“You did the right thing. I deal with this when I get home. Where are you now?”

“With Sash, at a fun house, trying to lift the kids’ spirit…”

“That’s good. They need it… Babe, I gotta go—”

“Shane, wait!” She sucked in heavily. “Can we come by… Babe, the kids miss you.”

“I’m sorry, you can’t. I’m swamped. I gotta important meeting. I only took a break to take this call.”

“I get it; I do. Can you at least come home early?”

“I don't—I don’t know, but I’ll try.”

“You have to go to Ronan today. You can’t miss it.”

“Ah shit. I forgot… I’ll be there, but I gotta go. I’ll see you later. Love you.”

…

The lush emerald leaves fluttered in the air, their faces gleaming in the sun. The falling leaves seemed to be having a constant, quiet conversation, their murmurs and whispers filling the air and rustling as the wind blew across them. With the garden in full bloom, the air was filled with the scent of early May. Michonne didn’t care for the mansion, but for the large, peaceful gardens she stood in and for the azure blue sea that sprawled far and wide and blended with the sky on the distant horizon concealed behind the frigid white mansion's walls. Her eyes were unfaltering yet soft while she focused on the sounds. At times, raging waves slammed against the cliffs, and the ocean’s voice turned into a chorus of screaming giants. At times, the ocean’s rhythm was like a soothing pulse, a continual reminder of nature's presence, as it is now. She closed her huge brown eyes, absorbing everything, until the sound of a heavy, uneasy footstep jolted her out of her reverie. Magna stared at Michonne as though she were studying a paper. From her grey, satin, dolman-sleeve knee-length dress to her black T-strap heels. Michonne stared back at her, calm and composed. Not a ripple in sight.

“May I help you?”

“Oh, no. Mind any company?”

“Make yourself at home. Any guest of ‘my good brother’ is a guest of me.”

“Thank you.” Magna took a deep breath and rubbed her chest.

“Your first pregnancy?”

“How—”

“Try ginger. It’s old-fashioned, but it works. Until then, have a mint; it’ll help.”

“Thank you…” She stared cautiously at the mint as Michonne smiled with a stretched hand.

“You are very welcome. Walk with me?”

“Oh, alright.” Michonne hooked their arms together at Magna’s confirmation, strolling through the garden.

“So how did you meet, Monty?”

“A mutual friend introduced us.”

“And did this mutual friend happen to introduce you at one of his ‘special’ parties?” A momentary look of discomfort crossed Magna’s pretty face. “I’m not judging you, but a word from the wise, don’t let anyone know. Even if Kendall is friendly, don’t trust her. What’s your sexuality?”

“I’m bi… Monty already told me about his grandfather; he’s—”

“Traditional… He doesn’t care who you fuck; certain family ‘associates’ might... Don’t bring up politics; speak less, listen more. You need to change how you dress; you’re trying too hard.” Michonne stared her up and down. Processing the white and pink, long-sleeved floral dress, yellow straw sun hat, and pink pumps.

“What makes you say that?” Her lips grew thin and firm, breaking from Michonne, like she’d touched something hot.

“The men might not notice but the women definitely will. Let me take a guess about you… An aspiring actress or model. You were raised poor. You’re the oldest of three, maybe four, girls. Your mother wasn’t in the picture, that’s for sure. Probably dead… No, probably left when you were young, leaving your dad to raise you. Anger issues and Juvie?” Michonne saw her muscles stiffen. “Should I go on?” Spasms of irritation ran laps across her face. Just as she was ready to lash out, Michonne switched gears. “Do you like flowers?”

“What? Uh, I guess?”

“I love flowers... I love their beauty, I love watching them grow and I love the different meanings they hold… Do you know this one?” Michonne reached out to touch one of the deep, dark crimson flowers in front of them.

“No, they’re pretty.”

“Hmm, these are called black dahlias. They represent death, betrayal and anguish and should not be given carelessly.”

“Why the hell would they grow them here?” Michonne tilted her head to the side inquisitively at her question and chuckled.

“Ronan’s third wife gifted him this flower the day before she was murdered, so he plants them.”

“Wow…”

“Yes, and yet I can’t think of a place more fitting for it. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Michonne’s face never once fluctuated throughout this entire conversation. Magna took a clear look at her and came to the realisation that, though she still had that polite smile on her face, her eyes gave away nothing; they were empty. Those brown pools of hers read her like a book yet revealed nothing unless it willed it. Monty had made it clear that she should get closer to her. But she didn’t understand why. The woman next to her was dangerous. 

This is a bad idea, Monty! I don’t think—

“Monty sent you to me, didn’t he?”

“How—” Michonne began to circle her like she was a cornered rabbit.

“You know the difference between Monty and a condom? Condoms have evolved; they’re not so thick and insensitive anymore…I may not like him, but I admit he’s insensitive and ignorant, not stupid. He understands there are certain things he won’t be adept at dealing with. We women fight differently; we’re more calculated, and quiet. Even so, just as ruthless and important. Women underestimate the power they hold…”

“Can I trust you?” Magna decided it best to just come straight out and ask. “Can I?” Michonne stopped moving and bore deep into her before letting out a booming laugh at her silly question.

“No! You can’t… Monty miscalculated… Now that you shared this thought, I hope it made room for something smart?”

“Excuse me?”

“A piece of advice... I would hide my pregnancy for as long as possible and after that, watch what I ate and drank and my back. If I could figure it out, so could Eleanor, Andrea, and others... I’ll leave you to it then.”

Walking back to the mansion, Michonne could sense someone’s attention on her. Certain it wasn’t Magna, she came to an absolute standstill. Her lips opened, but she uttered nothing. She immediately clenched her jaw, gnawing on her bottom lip as an innate response to the jumbled mix of ideas in her head, and turned to confront his commanding gaze. They stood there in their silent battle until Michonne broke eye contact and went on her way. Entering the gathering room on the ground floor, she joined her mother-in-law on the white, vintage velvet settee, where she was having a glass of red wine. Her legs lapped as she watched Andre and Maliyah torment each other. Eleanor wore a white lantern-sleeve, button-up silk shirt with red, high-waisted trousers and a lip to match. Her jet-black hair wasn’t slick back today; she wore it in a wavy retro bob and white Mary Jane platform pumps on her feet. It didn’t matter where she was or who she was with; Eleanor had to look good. Michonne couldn’t help but sigh.

“You look lovely.”

“Naturally.”

“Did those two knuckleheads give any trouble while I was out?”

“Other than harass each other? Nah… What happened to his face?”

“My nephew… It’s a clean cut. It won’t scar. It won’t happen again.”

“Say away from those people… That thing with John, I’ll talk to Ronan about it later.” Michonne nodded in acceptance, at the same time she saw Magna enter with Monty, gaining Eleanor’s attention. “What’s that boy thinking?”

“He brought her... He’s definitely serious…”

“Is she pregnant? Is that why he’s doing it?”

“I don’t… think so... I spoke to her in the gardens earlier; she even asked for a cigarette before I told her I don’t smoke… You dislike her?”

“Well, look at her. She dresses like she’s playing doll house and she’s the fucking doll. She’s so fucking easy to read; her intentions here aren’t pure… at all.”

“Are anyone’s intentions pure?”

“No, but she’s too obvious, and not in an endearing way. Sometimes I wonder if Monty is right in the fucking head. She can’t help him; she’s not like you, me, or even the blonde hussy in the other room; she has nothing to offer, and she doesn’t know our ways. She’s green. Far too green.” Michonne leaned in a hushed voice to retort,

“I didn’t know anything either and look, I made it. I think she has something there. Look at you. You came from nothing and did well for yourself. I don’t think you should write her off just yet. Monty seems to actually love her.”

“It’s not the same thing. You may’ve been sheltered but learned quickly, you were a part of this life. And I… I did whatever necessary. Not judging her because she’s poor… She just doesn’t have it… She relying on Monty, is the dumbest fucking shit I have ever bore witness to. Relying on a man? I’ll trust a thief with my money before I do that! I learned long before I got married that John wasn’t shit.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know it; you’ve seen it... Two months before I married, a woman contacted me. Jacqui, that was her name… Told me she was pregnant and John was the father. Part didn’t want to accept it. Believe it or not, there was a time when I’d been in love—with him. I made it clear to her not to contact me again—I ignored it for a whole month! That was until I saw ‘em—saw how he looked at her. He’d never looked at me that way and I had to know why. So, I found out where she worked and showed up at her job… I understood exactly why. She had it—that thing that men loved. Do you know what I’m talking about?” Eleanor replenished her wine glass.

“No.” Michonne swallowed the saliva stuck in her throat. Her entire body felt cold, though there was no draft. Eleanor’s eyes made the hair on her body perk up. Her mother-in-law downed her glass, refilling it.

“Yes, yes you do... She was pretty, but she had nothing on me. However, she had it. All the things that aroused feelings of love and affection in men. She even had this air of innocence that could trick you… There, I stood in front of a woman my fiancé was in love with, who was also carrying his baby… I told her to get rid of it, but she wouldn’t so I warned her and left... I wonder how it felt for him not being able to marry her… Jacqui was black, you see… I may’ve been poor, but to those he was doing business with at the time—those he aligned himself with when he was digging his way to power—she held no benefit. You know those ‘ conservatives ’. Different time, I guess... “

“And you? What happened after?”

“I remember the face he had when she lost that baby. Remember well. He still married me though, because he knew right then what he needed by his side. I would never get his love, and I lost whatever affection he had for me as time went on. It didn’t matter to me. That man is so much worse than I’d ever be. The things he could think of, my mind could never conceive... I might be going to hell, but John sure is coming with me. Shane and Monty—they’re too much like their father to have just anyone by their side. The girl’s too green. Her eyes are bigger than her stomach. She’s going to cause problems sooner or later.” Michonne didn’t know how to respond and her chest felt heavy. Luckily, Maliyah came running in her lap, mouth pouting far, while her blue pools filled with tears as if the world had wronged her.

“Mama!”

“Baby? What’s wrong?”

“AJ pulled my hair!” Michonne grabbed her closer and began to soothe her brown, shaggy curls, kissing her dimpled cheeks.

“Andre,” Michonne called with a critical squint.

“Nuh-uh! No, it’s her fault! She wanted my iPad and got her hair tangled in my chain. That’s not my fault! I never told her to fight me.”

“My… Why are you fighting your sister?”

“I wasn’t fighting! I just don’t wanna give her my iPad. It’s mine!”

“Can’t you two share?”

“Why? it’s mine… I don’t touch her dolls…” He turned his face away, scrunching his nose to high heaven with a pointed chin. Eleanor, watching this, grinned, completely letting it envelop her face. She rubbed freshly trimmed curly black hair.

“He’s right. What his, is his. I get it, but you and Shane spoil her too much. She can’t have everything.” Hearing her grandmother’s words, Lia buried her face in her mother’s bosom. Andre calmed and settled between Eleanor and his mother.

“I know… I’m trying; I am... Shane doesn’t help. He makes it hard being the stern parent when he lets her get away with murder.”

“Of course it’s him.” She sighed. 

“Lia?”

“Mama?”

“You do know I have to comb your hair in time for dinner now, right?”

“No…” Her bottom lip protruded.

“Yes…”

“Eleanor?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m taking Lia up stairs.”

“Go. I’ll watch Mr. Man here.”

…

Michonne quickened her pace to try catching up to her energetic daughter when she saw a familiar but unwelcome person holding her. His gaze was gentle, complimented by a comely smile—a smile she was once fond of. She saw Maliyah tug on his beard and a strong, joyful laugh fell from his mouth. Michonne paused her steps at the sight that befell her and her chest tightened and her entire body became impossibly still. Nausea swept over her in a wave. The sound of her heartbeat was overwhelming in the silence as she gathered the mental fortitude to confront him. She stood firm, ready to take back her child, but he made no sudden movements, simply kissing Lia on her temple. After what felt like forever, his piercing blue eyes glanced up at her, beating a rush of excitement in her chest, only to bring his gaze back to her child.

“She’s just perfect, ain’t she?”

“She is; I think I’ll keep her.” Michonne stretched her hands to take her; however, Rick pulled back.

“Hey, Mal… You don’t mind getting to know me a bit, right? I’m sure if you say yes, your mama will agree.”

“Mama? Can I play with Uncle Rick? Pwease?” She knew her child better than herself. The little brat didn’t want to comb her hair. She knew when to be cute to get her way—when to get her needed attention.

“Lia, please, let’s not—” She knew it was pointless, so she simply asked, “Where’s Carl?”

“Keeping the old man company. Where’s your husband? With the mistress?”

“You are not doing this with my daughter here. Give her to me.” Rick looked back and forth between the two.

“You’re right. She didn’t need to hear this, but we ain’t done talking.” He kisses Lia once on her crown as he sees a maid leave Ronan’s bedroom and flag her over. “Sweetpea, I need to say a few things to your mama for a bit. Can you go with Miss Carla so she can take you to Grandma? Just for a little while.”

“Okay…”

“Good girl.” He handed her over. His eyes were still and he never left her until she was out of sight. That’s when he decided to grace her with his gaze again. “Look at her... Perfect.” He opened the door to Ronan’s study so they could talk without prying eyes.

“What is it? What do you want from me?”

“I told you to expect a call from me.”

“I got no such call.”

“I never said you did. I had to settle Carl first… I talked to Shane; he helped me get Carl into the same school as your boy.”

“What are you doing here, Rick?”

“I’m back with my family... Am I not allowed?”

“Cut the bullshit! We both know damn well that you’re not here for them. And what’s this about you being COO? How did you even push Cophe out when John was set on him? Your brother loves you, so whatever you’re planning, leave him out of it. I don’t know what you think happened to Lori but it was suicide.”

“You and Lori were close leading up to her death; don’t try bullshitting me, she told me herself… I’m gonna ask you some questions and you will answer me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Oh, you better. A lot is dependent on how you behave, darling.”

“Rick.”

“Was Lori pregnant when she passed?”

“Ye—Yes.”

“Who was the father?”

“I think I—I don’t know—”

“Who do you think? Be honest.”

“John… I saw them once, just once…”

“You saw ‘em… Who else? Did she mention anything suspicious? Like name or—”

“Rick. I can’t; I made a promise. Please.” A momentary look of discomfort crossed her face as she glanced around, not focusing on anything; she didn’t meet his eyes. Rick took her arm.

“Think about Carl.”

“I am thinking about him. It’s why I can’t say anything. If you care about your son, don’t. Just don’t. You are not the one that matters here.” He released her but kept the gap closed and bent his face to her ear.

“And your family ain’t got nothing to do with this? You’re still so selfish, even after all this time… Let me ask you this. Who is Maliyah’s real father?” Her eyes flicked for a millisecond; however, she managed to rope it back in and kept her tone deceptive even as she gave a mocking crackle.

“What the hell are you on about? I’m not doing this; you’re crazy!” As she walked away, he pulled her back.

“I told you Lori was one of the reasons I came back. I’m giving you another one… You let another man raise my child all this time… Fucking me over once ain’t enough?”

“You’re insane!”

“You’re a fucking liar!” He grabbed her face. “All you do is lie! Can you tell the truth for a goddamn change? Or is that beyond you? You’re such a piece of fucking work. God, you drive me crazy! You take me for a fool; you always have... Tell me the truth.” Michonne’s lips were wide, hanging loosely in a forlorn mental state.

“I had my reasons. You know I did…” Her eyes were scarcely open, yet he noted how they glistened with unshed tears. They fell when she whispered, “I’m sorry…” He nodded in rapid motion in acceptance. His slight smile gave way that he was trying to overcome. “I’m sorry…”

“How long… how long did you know? Was it before I left or—”

“Rick…”

“Just tell me.”

“Before… Rick. I had my reasons.”

“Why? After a whole other woman, two miscarriages, two outside children, the drugs… Do you love him that much?”

“It’s not that simple... I do love my husband… He and I have hurt each other so much so, I’ve lost count. It’s unfair for me to expect more from him when he’s just not built to be a good person. He’s not like you, and he never will be. I didn’t stay with him because I loved him. That may sound like a contradiction to you, but it’s the truth.”

“So why? Are you in love with him?”

“I—I honestly couldn’t say... I don’t know... As for why, there are many reasons.”

“Like what? You gonna stand here and tell me you destroyed everything that I worked for—that we did, you gave a man my child and you ain’t even sure of your goddamn feelings for him. Nah, you better start talking.”

“It’s so easy for you. You can call me selfish, but you’re the most selfish person I know! You want to know... Well, for one, I had my son to think about!” She yelled, banging her chest, locking in a heated glare with her former lover. “I’m a piece of work? Well, you make me sick!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah?”

Rick snatched her by the waist and they stared as though hypnotised. His eyes conveyed vulnerability that she saw only when he was with her all that time ago, and before she could say a thing, he had covered her full lips with his own. As the kiss deepened, his right hand was caressing her all over, soon finding its way under her dress. She was like the opposite of Shame plant, wrapping his arms around his neck unconsciously. When his finger made way to enter her, Michonne ceased his hand, snapping away from his lips, thwarting any movement from either of them till her hands jerked back like she’d touched fire. She covered her mouth and adrenaline jolted through her veins, signaling her to leave.

“So much for making you sick.”

Anger rushed in the moment the shock faded at his arrogance, and she pushed past him, not willing to face her partner in crime and bolted down the staircase. Magna watched Michonne from across the room. She seemed different from their encounter. Frazzled, on edge. Her arms were wrapped around herself while she tiptoed over to her kids.

What’s her deal? Where did she come from?

“I don’t like her.”

“Come on, Magna.”

“I thought you said she’d help?”

“I told you to try and get her on your side. You didn't; that’s on you.”

“Screw you.”

“You’re already doing that, Blondie.” Monty sipped on his glass of gin and cast a gaze on his sister-in-law. “You may not like what she said, and you sure ain’t gotta; however, she’s danced this song longer than you can dream. If she says your fucking trash, that’s what the hell you are.”

“Wow, what good moral support.”

“I ain’t here to hold your hand; it’d do you more harm than good if I did hold your hand.”

“She told me to hide my pregnancy for as long as possible.”

“She did? She knows?” Monty’s hand was only a few inches away from the glass’s stem when his eyes dilated, his usual conciseness replaced with foggy scepticism.

“She said that if she could tell, so would others, like your mom could find out as well, and that when it does finally come out, to be careful.”

“I see. I don’t think she’s told Mom anything yet. You should’ve told me this first… She says she won’t help but she kept it, huh?” His face brightens like a glowing sign, and he forfeits his body to the revelry, tracking Michonne’s every move. “She ain’t change a bit; still so soft.”

“But she said she won’t help.”

“She won’t go out of her way, but unlike the others, she won’t actively hurt you. She’s just washing her hands of what happens in the future.”

“So, what do I do?”

“Stick to her. Beat her down. I’d tell you to seduce her, but I don’t think she’s into that.”

“So cheating is not the problem? But the fact that she doesn’t swing my way.” Her brow rose with his smile.

“No, that too, though unlike you, she’s actually wife material. Nothing like the both of us, baby.”

“Oh, kiss my ass.”

…

Joseph Walsh, his heavily pregnant common-law wife Mortica Pines, his three children, Ethan and his wife Reya, Emmanuella and Evan, and his three grandchildren, Rachel, Lena, and Luke, had just arrived in time to kick off the dinner leading into the family weekend. Shane and Kendall weren’t here, much to Eleanor’s disgust. Michonne made her way to Ronan’s bedroom at her mother-in-law’s behest to let it be known that dinner was ready and everyone else present was gathered in the dining room. She reached to turn the knob and paused when the whispering Ronan and Rick enticed her ears to eavesdrop. Not much was learned considering only bits and pieces survived the muffled travel. Words like ‘Company’, ‘Dept’, ‘Shares’ and ‘Son’ induced small hair to rise on her body. Her cheeks blew out with a heavy breath meant to steady her and a smile was forced in an effort to conceal her worry and doubt, a skill she fostered for years. The bells were ringing once more, and she didn’t know why. She was frozen until the voice of a young child shook her sane, causing her to finally open the door and greet them.

“Ah, I forgot to knock. Sorry, hope I’m not disturbing.”

“No, no, my dear! Come, let me see you!” Michonne sprints and kneels next to Ronan’s wheelchair, taking his hardened palm. Coldness from his six mammoth sized rings invading her. 

“Aunt Michonne!” He dashed, hugging her.

“You remember me? You were so young when you left!”

“Of course I do! I still got a picture of you and Dad!”

“A picture…Oh.” She immediately fixed her faltering smile. “Dad’s had you lock up all day with great gramps?”

“Yeah, Dad’s been busy, but grandpa fun!”

“Yes, he is, but I sure it wouldn’t have hurt to have someone around your age to play with.”

“There’s nobody like that here.”

“Not true! There’s my son Andre, and uncle Joseph just got here with his family. He’s got grandchildren around your age.”

“Really?”

“Yeah! Tomorrow, I expect to see you out and about!”

“Joe's here…” Ronan mumbled to himself.

“That’s part of the reason I came up. Dinner is ready. Shall we go?”

…

Rick kept his gaze fixed on Michonne as she strode across the room. Michonne had been a slender woman with unexpectedly generous curves for as long as Rick had known her. She created an outstanding figure with her full lips, breasts, and round hips. Michonne's most attractive features were her rich chocolate-brown complexion, big brown eyes to match and the long black butterfly locs that she seldom allowed falling below her waist when she wasn't wearing them in a tidy styled bun. A prideful woman, never a hair or speck out of place. She made sure Andre was properly seated and went on her own, placing Maliyah on her lap. Lia sneakily reached out to the table to steal a piece of meat. Unbeknownst to her, Rick was surveilling her every movement. Rick tried to suppress his chuckling but delved into low laughter at her little antics. This earned the attention of the family, who spun in their chairs to see the commotion. Michonne had sensed his gaze on her and Lia the entire time. She delivered a warning glare, cautioning him about his shameless behaviour.

I shouldn’t’ve admitted shit! Can’t he have some decorum?

Not catching a reason for his outburst, everyone went back to eating. Michonne adjusted Lia and decided not to pay any more attention to the immoral clown on her left.

“So, Carl, are you liking being back home in America?”

“Michonne, you should have gotten a high chair for her.” Reya implored.

“This one is a picky eater; she makes a mess everywhere; better not.” She implored.

“Oh, nonsense! She three! It’s her job to be those things. Besides, what are the servants here for?”

“Why the hell are you telling her what to do with her child? Don’t you got your own demons to micro-manage. Look at that jackass at the end with the damn lamb sauce.” Rick chin point towards Luke.

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” Ethan and Rick became locked in an intense staredown.

“What was that, you stupid cunt?” Eleanor turned, blue eyes cold and proud, same as Rick’s.

The whole table grew stagnant, and gazes bounced out off each other. Even Andrea had nothing to add. Ronan placed his utensils down on the table, picked up a serviette and wiped his mouth. Making all cease movement. The tensing of his jaw informed the room that it would end now. Logan partially raised Rick. He gave him all the fine things in life and never let him perceive himself as less, as much as possible, among his remaining grandchildren. When Rick made the choice to leave, Ronan used all tactics in his book to keep him from going. Rick wasn’t a Walsh, but it didn’t matter. Many saw him as an outsider and a bastard, but none vocalised it. For Ethan to utter such a foolhardy question, one wondered if he was indeed a cunt.

“I hear the media’s on your asses… That girl?” Everyone’s face went slack at the twist. “What is this?”

“It’s still being investigated; no harm done. I’ll be over soon enough." John said. "Don’t worry about the media. We are the media. Don’t think too hard, Dad. Shane will deal with it; he’s dealing with it now.”

“All this mess; I’m getting too old to make the big decisions.”

“Your still young, Rone! Don’t sell yourself short.” Eleanor smiles, softening him up a bit.

“Always the silver tongue with you... Still, I think it’s time.”

“Time for what, Rone?”

“I’m giving Richard my stocks in the company!”

If a person's goal was to create World War III, Ronan’s words were the perfect catalyst. Michonne lifted her head, fiddled with her daughter’s hand, and surveyed the members of her esteemed ‘Royal’ family. For the first time this evening, Monty looked rattled. Ethan, Emmanuella and Evan sat unblinking, processing the new devastating blow. Reya kept looking back and forth at Ronan and Ethan’s faces, hazy with uncertainty. Eleanor’s brow slid up, though she hid a slight smirk on her pretty, red lips with her wine class. Joseph clearly wanted to add something but held his tongue, seeing John not say a word. Out of everyone here, John was the most contradictory in terms of reactions. He did not move a muscle, didn’t even seek out his father, and continued eating.

Would he really allow another man’s child to hold so much power in his company? Did he love Rick that much? A man like him?

Given Rick was now the second most influential person to the company, with the second most stakes only behind John and to be the knew COO, She could understand ‘The Plight Of Man’ she bore witness to. A pity that Kendall and her husband weren’t present to receive this gift. She couldn’t help but ponder whether her husband would still trust his most beloved brother. She knew the man causing all this smoke was waiting for her attention, nonetheless Michonne didn’t meet his gaze and bluntly declared,

“Congratulations.”

“Grandfather, you're not serious, are you?” Emmanuella didn’t care, this was ridiculous to her.

“And why wouldn’t I be serious?”

“What’s she tryna say is, this is a family business, and though Rick is family, I’m sure everyone agrees with that.” He spun he neck everywhere as if trying to get others to join in his ‘sacrifice’. “It’s not really the same as actual blood.”

“What you name again boy?” Ronan stroked his chin.

“Uhh, Granddad… it’s Ethan...”

“Listen here, Ethan… It’s mine… and I get to decide what the fuck I do with ‘em. Fuck off… I tired… Help me Richard.”

“Sure, old man.”

And that is how dinner concluded.

…

Shane gazed out the window, momentarily confused as to why it was so dark. His wonder ended when a lithe voice bombarded him. A voice he was familiar with all his life.

“I heard Dad’s fucking you.”

“Yeah, well…”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“You of all people? You gonna sit here and play Kumbayah with little ol me?”

“Oh, cut that shit out... I shouldn’t’ve asked. Ugh!”

“Come on, K.” He grabbed her hand before she stomped away in annoyance.

“Don’t fuck with me.”

“Let's talk.”

“About?”

“I don’t know... life? Dad? Why we’re both late?

“I’m… I’m thinking about selling... We’re at risk of getting eaten anyways.”

“K… you serious? If you need help, just ask.”

“I’m not giving Dad any leverage... If I ask, it means I failed.”

“You and your ego; it’s fucking horseshit. You gonna throw away everything you worked for for pride?”

“Yeah… If I sell, I’ll make the decision. I’d ended it on my terms. So yeah.”

“Alright, sell… Come work for me. No, work with me.”

“Shane…”

“I know you said you ain’t wanted nothing to do with Briton, but we both know that’s bullshit. Dad ain’t never wanted you to get involved and—”

“He’s a parochial cunt!” She snapped, “And still don’t trust that I can do this.”

"K..."

“Why me? Why not Monty? He could be a better help.”

“I don’t trust Monty. I trust you and I trust Rick… What do you say?” He put out his right hand, waiting for her to accept. Kendall stared at him, then down at his hand, a motion she repeated about five times till she took it.

“Okay… Okay, but I have to get a real say. A real seat at the table.”

“Alright!” Shane boldly affirmed his stance towards her.

“Alright…By the way,” she remembered a thought that nags her. “Philip Blake? What the fuck? What happened to Lance Hornsby?”

“Hornsby is running for his final term. It’s simply replenishing the stock. You know better, K.”

“With Philip Blake?”

“Dad and Grandpa likes him. Little matters. You know that. Besides, it ain’t our concern.”

“Not our concern? If he’s anything like Hornsby, it's definitely yours.”

“I ain’t had a one-on-one with the guy yet. What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Shane… You gotta a black wife and biracial children. Come on.”

“My family was fine before; they’re gonna be fine after.”

“Okay.” Kendall threw up her hands in defeat. “We are late, so we should head in.”

Dinner was long concluded. Light from the patio shone through the small window, a scented candle aiding in the welcoming shadows of the. At 11:00 p.m., only the estate guards were active. Kendall went upstairs first, leaving Shane sitting on the bottom stairs. He washed his face with his hands as if attempting to wake himself up by wiping away the fatigue and puffiness. Getting up, he considered it to require more work than it was worth. When he and his wife slept at his grandfather’s, the corridor to their shared bedroom seemed four times longer than usual. Walking in, he noticed her sitting up in the bed with her back against the headboard, reading 'Anna Karenina' by Leo Tolstoy. She didn’t raise her gaze at him, nor did she welcome him as she always did. He dragged out a fresh bathrobe and went to the bathroom. The water from the shower was relaxing, and when he came out, he wondered if he should have stayed since his darling wife had now decided he was worth her time.

“Nothing to say, huh?”

“Michonne… not tonight. I’m fucking tired.”

“Okay!” Head nodding up and down like a bobblehead, she bent the tip of the page she was reading and put her book on the nightstand. “You’re… tired! Shane is tired! Should I buy a cake? Should I invite Beyoncé to sing for you? Should I go outside naked and scream it at the top of my lungs?”

“You gonna overreact?”

“Overreact… That’s what I’m doing, huh? Overreacting?”

“Imma break this down for you to understand, babe. I got work!”

“Oh, my fucking gosh—”

“I gotta work, to provide, for my kids, So that your ass can enjoy all the fancy shit you love—”

“You’re full of shit!”

“That fancy wine, that fancy clothes and shoes, The nice houses and nice cars—”

“Cut the bullshit! You are a billionaire! You don’t have to work a day in your life because unlike most, you were born lucky! And you will inherit billions more when Ronan and John croaks, throw your mother in there! This isn’t about me or the kids! It’s not about us, It’s about you!”

“Me! You're so damn vindictive…”

“I don’t get your need to have your daddy’s attention... You are his favourite. Does that make you feel better? You’re his favourite, which means you’re his favourite toy.”

“Don’t. Just don’t.”

“What is with this need—this desperate need for recognition and affection from a man who doesn’t deserve it? If it weren’t for the monthly family weekends, which you’ve been ducking for how long now, your kids wouldn’t have even gotten a glimpse of you! When was the last time you saw them awake, Shane? Do you even remember?”

“Everything I do, I do for my kids! I ain’t like you making it sound like I’m out here abandoning my kids. You been telling ‘em this shit? It ends now! I ain’t having it!”

“Keep your voice down or so help me, God! The fact that you think I’d even do something like that... Go sleep in another room. I don’t want to see your face right now.”

“People will see us.”

“They’ve already fucking heard us, Shane! Your voice, it tends to carry.”

“Imma give you your space… Gosh, you’re fucking crazy.”

“Maybe so, but I’m not a piece of shit like you. Get out Bill Clinton. I need my beauty sleep.”

Shane stood unmoving, examining his wife’s back as she prepared for bed, not paying him any mind. He rubbed his hand over his face, through his hair and bit his lip before storming out, slamming the bedroom door behind him shut. It was only when he was out of the room that Michonne let her locs down and looked at where he left. She slipped into her silk nightgown and went to bed. At the same time, a young man with ocean-blue eyes, walked under the starry night sky, thinking back to a simpler time.

7 years, 7 months prior

The sky was illuminated with stars like embers. It was the promise of life in the dark, a feeling of warmth emerging from the cold. It should've been a vastness to offer humility and an unending expanse to inspire thankfulness for the comfort of home. Rick considered each night’s sky a new gift, no matter how many years passed. It made him feel better. And he hopes it will now. As he walked through the starry night, he met the figure of a woman’s back. She didn’t move a muscle and uncharitably gazed at what he sorted out. He recognised her immediately, and as he stepped unwittingly towards her, he noticed her tear-drained face. Each drop is like a shard of glass or a diamond.

“Michonne?” She didn’t answer. It was almost like she was lost in her mind. “Michonne?” It was the second call on which she turned to him. She stared at him, then ran her fingers over her wedding ring.

“Did you know?” It was uttered so minutely, he didn’t know if he missed some of her question.

“What?”

“Did you know about her?” They both understood exactly who she was referring to.

“I’m sorry…”

“Who else? Who else knew?” He couldn’t answer her obvious, but tragic question. “So everyone knew? I was just a fool to laugh at.” Rick could tell she'd sobbed extensively and for a long time since her eyes were swollen and most likely red. Her lips formed a half-formed, lifeless smile, and she tightened her crossed arms until she was more or less cradling herself.

“Shhh, it’s not worth it.” He rushed to her and gave her the warmest embrace he could muster. “I’m sorry.”

“I lost my baby… I lost my baby…”

He wrapped her more tightly, unsure how to react. She rocked softly back and forth, her voice devolving into an inconsolable whine, gasping between wails, hardly able to gather her breath for the next, unaware she even was doing it. He gave her a soothing hug and offered compassion without words, whilst he placed a hand on her lower back and gently guided her to sit down. They didn't say anymore and held her chilled hand, enabling her to let it all out.

Present

If Rick could mark the day their relationship changed, it’d be then. He stopped being the distant brother-in-law and became a friend. He became a friend for her to cry on and he never minded. He reached in his pocket for a smoke, making his way through the graceful garden, when he saw a woman smoking by herself.

“I didn’t expect you here. Come to your mother.”

“It's quiet out here… It’s nice…”

“As opposed to?”

“Your son and his wife are fighting…”

“Hmm… Is it about that woman?”

“I don’t really know.”

“Your brother needs to let that woman go, for his own sake.”

“Mmm… Mom… I—I’m probably gonna break your heart. I just hope you can go on loving me like you been… I know it may be a selfish thing to want, but I want it nonetheless…”

“You were premature when I had you… So small—so frail yet perfect. I spent six months up and down with you in a hospital because I could not lose you… Shane, Monty, Kendall... They’ve never been mine, but their father’s. You—you’re mine. You’re my boy, my sweet boy and you’ll always be my boy.” Eleanor held his cheek. “You got as much right as they do to fight. I love you, and I always will.”

…

…

…

Keynotes-

Sandalwood is a proven relaxant, decreasing anxiety, calming the nervous system, and assisting with better quality sleep. Its benefits are realised upon inhalation of the sweet, woody fragrance or when absorbed through the skin.

The Paris Wife is a fictional account of the relationship between Ernest Hemingway and his first wife, Hadley Richardson. The book follows the doomed relationship from its inception up until its dissolution several years later.

Black dahlias symbolise betrayal and sadness. They aren’t actually black but a really dark crimson that can sometimes give the illusion of them being black. Most notably, they're associated with the infamous murder of Elizabeth Short in 1947 in Los Angeles. This case became known as “The Black Dahlia” murder, and it remains unsolved to this day. Can you see where I’m going with this ;D

Mimosa pudica, or shame plant, is a creeping annual or perennial flowering plant. It is often grown for its curiosity value. The sensitive compound leaves fold inward, droop when touched or shaken and re-open a few minutes later. Mimosa pudica is not a carnivorous plant.

Anna Karenina is a novel by the Russian author Leo Tolstoy, first published in book form in 1878. The narrative centers on the adulterous affair between Anna, wife of Aleksey Karenin, and Count Vronsky, a young bachelor. Karenin's discovery of the liaison arouses only his concern for his public image. Anna promises discretion for the sake of her husband and young son but eventually becomes pregnant by Vronsky. The story tells about the dangers of idealising a partner, the pitfalls of Romanticism, the difficulty of marriage and the importance of communication.

The plight of man is a biblical reference. It means to be under the control of someone else or something else or it means that the human race is under the domination of sin. We are all part of the dominion of sin. Man outside of Christ is under the control of sin and he is helpless to escape from it.

Prologue

Chapter-1

[thebluemoonjune]

The Sounds Of A Black Dahlia- Chapter 1

Summary:

8 years after marrying into a rich but cruel and messed-up family, Michonne, a loving mother and dutiful wife, finds herself in the middle of a brewing storm that may take everything she cares for, all while an unexpected member of the family returns, wanting to cause even more chaos and uproot her already troublesome life. AU Richonne centred. The first chapter is the prologue.

Michonne styled her butterfly locs in front of the mirror in her pink silk robe. The mirror captured a stranger, empty and bored eyes, the glitter of vitality gone, replaced by the dormant look of disillusionment, casting doubts on her own identity. She had already put on her make-up and just needed to put on her dress and jewellery. When she was finished with her hair, she got up and went to the long, red, satin, side-split, spaghetti-strap Chanel corset dress when Shane entered her bedroom.

“You’re still getting dressed? We’re gonna be late!”

Her cold gaze fixed on the anxious young man; her eyes narrowed, and she got a vertical wrinkle between her eyebrows. Her lips pursed slightly.

“You seem to forget who you’re talking to. However loud and gruff your tone gets with your whore, don’t try that bullshit with me. I’m not in the mood.” Shane took a breath, not wanting to argue.

“Baby…I didn’t mean to yell at you, but we’re gonna be late. It’s an important night, and this is important to me. You can be mad; I’m gonna need you to keep that attitude in check; when we get back home, you can yell, cuss, or whatever, but none of that horseshit now.”

“You can leave without me, or you can call whatever her name is. I’m sure she would love to get out of that cave you keep her in.”

“Can you behave for once?”

“I don’t know, Shane; can you be faithful for once? Can you be a good father for once? Can’t you be a man for once? No? Then do not rush me. If you want a pretty, supportive wife, fine, I’ll put on the mask, but do not rush me!” She zipped up her dress.

“Don’t bring the kids into this. You don’t wanna go there…I know you're mad at me, but... baby, it’s complicated.”

“Shane… I want a divorce.” She went for her silver heels, not looking him in the face. “Andre and Maliyah are young; we should do it soon rather than drawing this out and letting it hurt them.”

“What?” Not acknowledging his confusion, she continued.

“They’ll ask questions at first, but they’ll let it go. I want you to move out permanently so they get used to it quickly.”

“Baby, I know you’re angry. Let’s talk about this tomorrow, okay? I‘ll be downstairs; don’t forget the driver’s waiting.” He kissed her cheek and turned to leave.

Michonne let out a lengthy sigh as she watched her husband head downstairs. If she had known then what she knew now, she would not have married him. How could a man have two families? How could he say he loved her while being between her and another woman? How could he marry her, knowing that there was someone else? How could she still love that man? Those types of questions plagued her almost every day. She sat in front of the mirror yet again, staring at her perfectly coiffed face.

  Come on, Michonne... This is an important night for our family; you shouldn’t delay any longer.

She stood up and stuffed her phone, breath mints, charger, hand sanitiser, and cosmetics into her silver sol metal oval clutch. She wanted to see her children before leaving, so she dashed straight to the room they’d be in while she was out. Shane didn't want her to work, so she didn't. Prior to the birth of her baby, she spent her days doing whatever she desired—having fun, going on trips with her best friends and school—all whilst she was being a wife to her husband. She made several adjustments after becoming a mother, not because she needed to, but because she chose to. Shane made arrangements for her to hire a nanny. Michonne, on the other hand, declined. She did not fancy her children being raised by a stranger, knowing her as their mother in name and name alone. She couldn’t have that. She would be there for her children every step of the way, no matter what. Her love for motherhood didn’t hurt either. As Michonne entered the room, the kids were play-fighting with the babysitter, Beth. It was hard for Michonne to find a babysitter she was comfortable with. Interview after interview and nothing. It was her friend, Maggie, who told her to give her sister a try. Shane preferred someone more professional, but Michonne decided to take a chance this time, not wanting to offend her buddy. She was overjoyed since Beth was a wonderful girl who was excellent with her children. Michonne employed this as a means to assist the seventeen-year-old girl in saving for college without relying on handouts.

“Did you two little troublemakers not see your mother?”

“Mama!” Her younger baby called her first and she rushed over. Michonne picked her up, kissing her all over her face. “You look pweety, Mama!”

“Thank you, Bubba!” She fixed the three-year-old’s messy curls and turned to her son, who was still up under Beth. “Peanut? Did you not see me?

Her son was only six—only six—but had a premature love for women. He had a crush on Beth, and he was no different when Maggie and her friend Sasha were over at their house. He never crossed any inappropriate lines, although she saw he had a wandering eye. She recalled telling Shane about it for the first time. He laughed for ten minutes straight. This was a bad habit; she'd have to kick early or risk becoming a grandma when she wasn't ready. She'd have to keep a close eye on him, especially as he hits his teenage years. It may be innocent for now, but every time she looked at her baby boy, she was reminded of how fast time flew; he would be a man before she knew it.

“I saw you, Mama! I didn’t wanna dirty your dress!”

“Oh, so it was for my sake?”

“Mhmmm!” Michonne laughed at his excuse and walked to him.

“Well, can I at least get a kissy wissy to go?” He got up from the large beanbag, planting a kiss on her cheek before rubbing the tips of their noses together. “You and your sister go to bed on time; don’t give Beth any trouble, okay?”

“Okay!”

"Tomorrow, the three of us will go shopping to get you guys bikes. Lia is old enough now for a little one and you’ve outgrown yours.”

“Really?”

“Only if you two behave.”

“We will, we promise, Mama!” Maliyah nodded in agreement with her big brother. “Alright. I love you both! But mommy has to go!”

“Beth, call me if anything! Goldie already got her dinner, so she’ll sleep on her own.” She gave her daughter to the teen.

“I will!”

…

As Michonne walked to the stairs, she saw her husband at the end, waiting for her with an impatient expression laced on his handsome face. Noticing her finally coming down, he let out a sigh of relief.

“What took you?”

“Well, one of us had to settle the kids, right?”

“Sorry…”

“You're the guest of honour; your father isn’t going to change his mind at the last minute either. Calm yourself.”

“You’re right,” he said, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Thanks, we should go.” Her tone was flat, almost cold.

…

The two sat at the back of his Bentley, five minutes away from their destination. Tonight would be the night her father-in-law announced that she was handing over the reins to his son, her husband. She was happy for him, ecstatic even, but she was also exhausted.

“I need a `goddamn cigarette.”

“Not in the car.”

“Oh, you ready to talk to me now… I didn’t go there to fuck her, if that’s what you think.”

“What was that?”

“I went to pull her up about that shit she pulled at the store. I haven’t been intimate with her for a long time.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Does it?” It did and she hated that it did. “I know it feels unfair to you, but Chonne, I can’t just kick her out of my life; we got two kids together.”

“Bastards.” It was wrong of her to say; the children were innocent. It didn’t change things, though.

“My children nonetheless.” He licked his lip as he rubbed his head. “She was in the picture long before you; it’s unfair to her too.”

“And yet you married me. Young, naive, clueless me. All because she wasn’t up to your father’s standards. I made the perfect wife. Young, educated, well-off and from a good family. Having a black wife on your arm also showed you were open-minded and a little liberal.” She gave a sad chuckle.

“Is that all you think you are to me? Woman, I love you. It may’ve started out that way when we tied the knot, but not for long. Chonne, I love you…”

“Can you blame me? You’re Emperor Qianlong and I’m Empress Nara, I just haven’t cut my hair yet... Everything is business with you people. You keep saying that you love me; is that really true?”

“Of course!”

“Then why is she still in the picture?”

“She’s in the picture because we got kids. I’ve explained it all before.”

“Again, Shane, why is she in the picture? The last time we had a fight, did you forget what you told me?” She positioned her body to see his face. “Feelings for your mistress aside, you could be in their lives without her. You could take them. Do you think I would hurt them?”

“It ain’t like that. I just—” At the same time, his phone rang. “Rick?”

“Rick?”

“Yeah, Man… We’re basically here, pulling up now… Tell my old man, we’ll be up soon... later.” Shane ended the call. “Dad wants to know where we are.”

“Well, we’re here... You never told me your brother was back.”

“You been mad at me all day; I ain’t got the chance.” He hit her with a smile, which she rolled her eyes at. “We’ll talk tomorrow, like I said. You know what we gotta do, right?” 

He kissed her hand once more, then her neck, pausing to inhale her sweet scent as he placed his head on her shoulder. She closed her eyes and rested her chin on him. She married him when she was barely twenty; he was six years her senior. He courted her for six months at the behest of their parents prior to proposing. He was her first time, her first kiss, her first love—her first everything. She had no clue he was already in love with someone else and had a son with her. What disappointed her the most was that both of her parents were aware. They were aware and pushed her towards him anyway. Now she’s tied to him in more ways than one. He got up from the creek of her neck as the driver, Gareth, reached the entrance of the building. Coming to a stop, Gareth got out, opening the car door for Shane, who in turn held her hand, guiding her out. He fixed her dress and interlocked their fingers, strolling into the venue. Michonne, understanding the show was on the road, adjusted. Her shoulders were pulled back and she held her head high as she adorned herself with an enormous smile.

There were many people in the vestibule. There, they saw the familiar face of one of her father-in-law’s assistants, Tara. She wore a black, knee-length dress, formal enough for the event but conservative since she was here working. Noticing them both, her shoulders dropped and her face lit up as she hurried over.

“Finally! Your father has been asking questions for the past fifteen minutes! You know he hates being late.”

“We ain’t that late.”

“Yes, you are! We started half an hour ago!”

“Come on. Stop. Let’s go in. Before your father actually changes his mind.” They went towards the main hall, hand in hand.

“Who else is he gonna give it to? That whore’s brat is like ten.”

“Is that any way to talk about your stepmother, hmm? She might be an insufferable bitch, but don’t let anyone hear you. He’s eighteen, plus, even if Alex’s young, there’s Monty or Rick; your father has always loved him like a son. He’s a brother you actually like.”

“But he ain’t a Walsh; he’s a Grimes. That old fox would never give my mother the satisfaction. The day that happens, hell gonna freeze over. He’s far too damn cold and petty for that.”

“They’re getting a divorce and still so sour. Flaunting his mistress and children, being close to Rick... What a petty bastard.” His guffaws echoed in the large hall room, causing strangers to search for the source. “Calm yourself.” She patted his back like he was a choking toddler. “It’s not like your mother cares. She’s no different.”

In the vast crowd, they could see John Castus Walsh, the man of conversation, standing in the middle of the room with his thirty-six-year-old fiancée, Andrea Holden, among a couple of business partners. Noticing their arrival, John smiled in their direction, flagging them.

“You recognise ‘em?”

“Yes, the tall slender one is Negan Smith, The woman Daniella Dane, her husband has recently become a shareholder in the company. Josh Cophe may be the COO, but he’s dangerous, so careful and try to get rid of him. The one in the silver-grey suit is Philip Blake; he’s a politician.” Her husband sighed at the information.

“So we play dumb... Any trouble with the other shareholders? Were their wives friendly?”

“No. They were great at the dinner, and you can trust Morgan Jones… Shane… Just because he chose you, doesn’t mean you’re safe. Many poisonous snakes lay in the grass.”

“I know… You ready?”

“No, but it’s not about me; it’s about you.” She stroked his chest, staring deep into his eyes. “This is your night; you worked hard for this and it’s finally paying off. Regardless of everything, Shane, I am proud of you.” 

She hooked herself underneath his arm and they made their way to the others. She could feel her husband staring at her but she did not return his gaze, simply staring straight ahead. He tightened his hold on her and spun his neck straight, smirking.

“Ah, let me introduce you to my son, Shane, and his lovely wife, Michonne,” he whispered to Shane. “You’re late,” then said to Michonne. “You look lovely, dear,” he smiled. “Shane, this is Josh Cophe, Negan Smith, Daniella Dane, and Philip Blake.”

“You have a lovely wife here.”

“Thank you Mr. Smith! She’s my partner in crime, this one. You got someone?”

“My wife Lucille. She isn’t here, though.”

“Sad to hear it. Maybe she and my Chonne can meet next time. And you must be, Mr. Blake.

“You’re a very talented young man as as my friend said, lovely wife!”

“Thank you, Mr. Blake. Wait… you’re running for governor.”

“Yes, he sure is and I’m backing him; we’re backing him.” John added.

“I see…” 

Shane glanced at Michonne, who tried her best not to roll her eyes at the shenanigans she was witnessing. Business. It was always business. John didn’t even attempt to talk to his son about Blake’s politics or policies. It didn’t matter. If John Castus Walsh was anywhere near a politician, it wasn’t to plan for the betterment of his community. Michonne was about to slip away when an annoying voice rang in her ear.

“Well, could you two be any later? Or did Shane have outside business to attend to?”

“Andrea… Sorry, but you see, I was with my kids... Not everyone can relate, but surely you’d understand.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her eyes narrowed as he attempted to decipher the cryptic message.

“Exactly as I said.”

“Your right. Hmm, speaking of children. I know you love yours very much, and so does Shane, right? I know he makes time for all of ‘em .” She made sure to draw out her last bit of words, twisting her knife.

Michonne looked Andrea up and down, a smile completely enveloping her face. She had to admit Andrea was stunning in her yellowish-green Valentino pleated strapless silk-blend gown. She had her hair in a beautiful French twist and a yellowish-green rhinestone flower clip to match. That, however, was where Michonne’s compliments came to an end. If she had to put words to thoughts, Andrea was, to put it simply, a money-hungry, vindictive, selfish, entitled, cunt of a woman who cared for nothing and no one other than herself. Not even her children were exempt from this, as they were simply insurance for her everlasting cash cow, whom she called a fiancé. Shane hated her to the moon and back. He could see through her from the day he met her thirteen years ago. It didn’t help that they were almost the same age either.

“Yes, something that everyone doesn’t do. You know, sex parties, drugs, trip here, trip there! Like shameless, egotistical, self-centred whores. No sense of responsibility, even to their kids... A sad state of affairs…” She tried to suppress her giggling, but ended up bursting into loud laughter. This drew attention from Blake. “Shane, sweetheart, I'm going to look for my parents. You know how much I miss them.”

“Alright, come look for me when done.” He knew she was lying and probably wanted to leave due to being tired of her quiet sparring with Andrea. She also hated her parents.

He gave her a demure kiss, sending her off. Michonne grabbed a glass of champagne from a waiter and walked closer to a corner, not wanting others to talk to her until she was ready to go back to her husband. Sipping on her bubbly, her mind went far but was suddenly brought back when she heard her big brother’s voice over her shoulder.

“Mom and Dad are asking for you.”

“Mike! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry.”He began to chuckle.

“Not funny.”

“Okay! Okay!” he threw his hands up. “They still want to see you, though.”

“What the hell do they need now?”

“Why do you assume they want something? Maybe they really want to see you.” Michonne's brows gently lifted as she silently awaited clarification of his nonsense. “Okay… You got me. They want you to talk to Shane about an investment in a project. I'm just giving you a heads-up.”

“They have some nerve. Was this her idea?”

“Well, I have a beautiful and intelligent sister who’s married to one of the wealthiest families in the country and an immodest and audacious mother who’ll make full use of her.”

The siblings stared at each other, breaking out in a sad laugh. They both knew it. Sometimes she wondered if she had been born a son, if she would’ve been forced, controlled and manipulated like her parents were regarding her marriage. She loved her brother, especially when compared to her sister Macie; however, part of her resented him. She fought most her life, trying to gain a fraction of what he had. He lived his life how he wanted for the most part and would inherit their estate when all was said and done. After all, a daughter is like spilt water when she is wed, unless her maternal family needs something, of course. She admittedly would inherit nothing. She didn’t like that; she didn’t like that at all.

“They get dust from me.” She said bluntly, eyes cold and proud.

“Naturally… Look, your mother-in-law and sister-in-law are here. Oh, your brother-in-law is here too, well, other bother-in-law. Saw Richard earlier chatting with a pretty blonde.” Mike peeped her expression, trying to find a reaction on her pretty little face. He saw nothing.

Her sister-in-law, Kendall, wore a long pink open-side Armani halter dress. The neck of the dress was pure silver rhinestones, and her raven hair wrapped tightly in a fishtail braid updo, diamond earrings on her ears and a face beat to the heavens. Kendall Oliva Walsh or K for short was the youngest of the Walsh line and the only girl in a sea of men. She was driven, plain-spoken, and outgoing. She lived life with little regard for anyone, in the best way possible. She started her own publishing company against her father and grandfather’s wishes at the age of twenty-four. Out of all the family members Michonne gained from her marriage, K was her favourite, not counting her kids. Michonne smiled. Kendall is what Andrea wishes she could be.

Her eccentric mother-in-law was no different. Dressed to the fucking nines. Draped open-back Valentino silk gown, her black neck-length hair slicked right back with a side part. She had her face painted with a smokey eye and a ruby red lip, just like her own. Huge white pearls on her ears and neck and marble white red bottom Christian Louboutin heels with a white Saint Laurent clutch under her arm, along with her thirty-year-old French boyfriend. Michonne could smell the money. Some people suggest that affluent individuals don't like to flaunt their wealth, but this couldn't be further from the truth, especially in the case of Eleanor Olivier Grimes-Walsh. Eleanor was a stern woman who had a fearsome and commanding presence. She was harsh with her subordinates and peers, protective of all her children and cold and ruthless with those she deemed her enemies. The deceptively beautiful woman, Eleanor earned her the moniker ‘Iron Woman’. Being a mother of four at fifty-five years old, she looked to be in her early forties at most. She valued her beauty and appearance as much as her intelligence. You could never hope to find a flaw nor would you dare to. Eleanor came from nothing and married into this world, where she fought tooth and nail. 

She didn’t care what her Monty wore, as it was a boring, expensive tux like all the other men wore. The most she could say about it was that it was blue. Materialistic, aggressive, pompous, and unpredictable were all words that Michonne thought about the tall glass of concentrated ignorance. While Shane took after his father’s strong masculine features, Monty inherited his mother’s soft beauty, making him a ‘pretty boy’ and a sex-fueled one at that. She stayed away from him for the most part, unless it was a family occasion such as this one. Shawn Montgomery Walsh, better known as “Monty,” was many things and known for many as well but presenting his partners wasn’t one of them.

So, what interested Michonne the most about her ‘good brother’ was the woman at his arm. This was the first and Michonne was confused as to why. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Her hair was dark at the roots and light brown coming out, tied in a messy updo. She wore a white and green sleeveless dress and a white shawl covering her back, a yellow purse, and yellowish-green shoes with accessories to go. If she had to guess she was wearing one single brand, most people wouldn’t do that, not counting celebrities with endorsements. She wore the clothes; she had the man; she was at the event, but even so, she stuck out like a nail. Michonne could immediately tell that the woman wasn’t one of them; whether that was good or bad remained to be seen. One thing was for certain, though, Monty had already brought forth the woman, and so, she’d stay for a while. Oh, how interesting.

Given the arrival of the new party, she hooked her brother’s arm. Her eyes sparkled, understanding what was to come. Though she was trying to hide it, the corners of her mouth were twitching upward. In the corner of her eye, she notices Rick with his date making his way to her husband and father-in-law, same as Eleanor and her other children. Now that the whole family was here, it was time to return to her husband’s side. The event may have started but the show was just starting.

“You’re taking me with you?”

“Don’t you want to see something funny?”

“I’m sure it’s family business going on over there.”

“Probably, but you are technically family too. Just keep your mouth shut and be entertained. Besides, if Eleanor, Rick, and Monty can bring strangers here, I can bring my brother.” 

She walked over with her brother by her side and fell in next to her husband. On her way over, John left with his associates. 

The news will be delivered soon .

“Come on, Monty! Stop holding out. Who’s the girl?”

“Always in my damn business!”

“What are big brothers for? Come on, man.”

“This is my girlfriend, Magna. Magna Anders.”

“Girlfriend? Well, nice to meet you! Rick, you ain’t off the hook, man! And K, you’re by yourself.”

“Naturally! Why the fuck would I bring a man here? To look pretty?”

“You know she’s a fucking drugged-up slut. No proper man would want her.” Monty smiled at his little sister.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you dead dick prick! You’re probably riddled with syphilis. Syphilis riddled.” Kendall chuckled hard. 

“Wicked ranthrough witch bitch…”

“Egotistical, small, dick twink-looking cunt.”

“Closet lesbian, dick tease.”

“I thought we were trading blows. I’d gladly give up men you sexist, inbred-looking, slack-jawed, drooling meatslapper.”

“Oh my God.” Holly and Magna looked at each other awkwardly, shocked at the unexpected turn, while Michonne sipped on her bubbly.

“Both of you stop that shit, right now. We’re in public for crying out loud! No need to get foul. Utterly fucking embarrassing!” Eleanor slapped Monty in the back of his head.

“I’m gonna take a gander and say… Companionship?” Directed the conversation back on track. Michonne looked at Shane with pity.

“Oh please! I’m smarter than that.”

“Can’t be that fucking smart; you’re an English major.” Monty quipped.

“Ignore him. Just answer the question.” Shane didn’t let up.

“A good dick down maybe, but companionship? Fuck no! Hassel Rick!”

“Kendall!”

“Sorry mother…”

“Rick.”

“Oh, this here is Holly. She’s my date for the night.” Michonne stretched out her hand.

“You’re very pretty, Holly. I hope you have a wonderful night.”

“Thank you.”

“She will. You don’t gotta worry about that.” Rick said it with slightly hostile eyes.

Michonne returned his gaze tenfold, not backing down in the slightest. His huge blue eyes gave her a playful expression, as if she were a mouse and he were the cat, like a tiger studying a bunny, until he began laughing softly to himself. His laugh was uncalled for and sounded more like an evil cackle than an expression of amusement. Andrea giggled at the side and Shane rolled his eyes at his brother's behaviour.

“Alright, alright. Stop teasing her.”

“So Holly, Magna, what do you think about our colourful family?”

“Well, like you said, quite colourful. Is it always like this?” They both gazed at her, truly intending to know.

“Oh Holly, stick around and you’ll find out!”

“There ain’t nothing you need to ask her for, Hol.” Rick cut in, making Michonne roll her eyes.

“Michonne! You look gorgeous, by the way!” Kendall attempted to break the tension her brother was stuck on causing.

“So do you, K!” They embraced. She turned to her mother-in-law. “You look absolutely stunning, Eleanor. How do you do it?”

“Ugh! You’re gonna let it go to her head! You know she loves hearing nothing more!”

“I stay stress-free darling. Never let small, egotistical men get the better of me or their whores.” Shane nudged his wife, not wanting her to add fuel to the fire. Michonne, however, did not care.

“I completely get you. What about you, Andrea? Surely you have your own methods?”

“Yes, Andrea, please share.” Kendall joined in.

“I just live my life without thinking of irrelevant people.” Eleanor cut in after Andrea’s words.

“Sure you do! You look… nice. My children’s money sure does wonders.” 

“You mean my fiancé’s money.”

“Same thing! My children will indubiously inherit every red cent !” Eleanor waved her hand high with a booming laugh. “Is that not why we’re here? Surely you can swallow those facts, though I know you are as helpless as you are homely, Amanda.”

“What are you talking about?” Her eyes narrowed as she attempted to decipher the cryptic message from the bewitching woman ahead of her.

“It seems the wheel is spinning but the hamster’s dead.” She strutted over to Shane, holding onto his arm on his left while Michonne was on his right. Her tone was playful, like a child. “I know it was kept in the family, but I would’ve expected your fiancé to tell you! Tonight my son will be announced as the CEO of Briton!” Noticing Andrea’s expression, Eleanor feigned a look of shock. “Don’t tell me you actually believed that my pig-headed husband would make your son his heir now? You think, because you got a cheap ring after pushing out two bastards, all your dreams could come true? Let me explain this to you. There are shareholders, investors, and people with whom we have certain relationships. There is still Ronan. Even if John had the idea, my father-in-law would never allow it! What do you have to offer other than your vagina? You don’t even have shares. My children do and I would never allow you or your hellspawns to. You have no power and you can’t intelligently use the only tool God has blessed you with either; that just makes you a cheap whore. One thing I can’t stand a Shameless, Stupid, Slut. They’re a bad combination.”

Michonne could see her brother’s mouth agape from the side, not expecting all he heard. At the same time, John took the front. They all went to take their seats. Though she didn’t tell Shane her thoughts due to not wanting to get the wrong idea, she was befuddled as to why he decided to give Shane control now. John was a man capable of kindness, and his raising Rick was a testament to that; however, he was also one of the cruellest people she knew. He destroyed company after company and family after family to get what he coveted. There was a man who threw himself off a building because he lost everything. It was one of the reasons her parents sacrificed her to the altar; for safety. He was not Ronan’s original successor nor was he his first-born son; he was the fourth child of five boys. His brother Ronan III, eldest, at sixty-six, was currently rotting in a prison cell for the murder of their great patriarch’s third wife, Helena, who also happened to be her father-in-law’s mother. The second son, Patrick, the main choice for the heir, was found drowned in his tub at forty-two. The third son, Cillian, at sixty-three, was held in a mental institution. And the fifth son, Joseph, was born from the same womb as John, never stepping on his brother’s tail and taking what he was given.

All so strange, but hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil... It’s not my business.

What was her business, was the father of her children. John was the possessive type; at only sixty-one, she couldn’t fathom a man as litigious, ruthless, controlling and determined as him giving over his blood work to expand to this point—not right now. Ronan, she could understand; after all, he, his parents, and two older siblings came here as immigrants, and he built everything from nothing for his descendants, but John was not his father. Leaving a legacy may be part of it; all men crave to leave a legacy behind, but there was more of a driving force to his motivations. She suspected more afoot.

“My father, Ronan Lucius Walsh II, came here to America from the old country, Ireland, when he was but 4 years old. My family, like other people of their time, had many difficulties… They bought into the American dream; they could make it here. I’d be lying if I say that upon arrival, everything was fine and dandy. You could imagine the hardships of an immigrant in a foreign land, but they never once gave up on that dream, particularly my father. He basically started Briton on thought, prayer, blood, and sweat and look at it now! Twenty-one years ago, he stood in a similar position as I do now, with the same intentions. ‘Times are changing’. Those were the words my father said to me when he handed me the reigns, and they are what I say to you, Shane. I am proud of you, son. Come on, let them see you.”

Shane squeezed his wife's hand, kissing her temple. He got up and went to his father’s side. The last time she saw him this happy was when he met their little girl.

“All children look up to their parents and I’m no different. As the eldest, growing up, I could only hope that I live up to my father, not for myself but for my family. I am not perfect. Many people helped me reach the point that my old man felt comfortable that I was ready. My father and mother, obviously; my younger siblings; my beautiful children; and my amazing, beautiful wife. Now I get to work for them and our future and build upon what my grandfather and father left to me. I vow to uphold the very same morals and values that has been instilled in me, to protect my family name, to progress my community, and to build upon the legacy that has come before me. That I, Shane Johnathan Walsh, promise.”

Everyone stood up, clapping. Whether it was insincere or not didn’t matter. The old ‘white-eyed wolf’ had already named his successor; there was nothing else to add. What would happen after tonight was a different story. As John gave another speech, Michonne turned to look at Rick, only to find him looking at her. She broke eye contact as quickly as she made it.

Why? Why did he come back… Why now?

After they were done addressing the room, Shane, John and she made the rounds, meeting with business partners, shareholders, board members and so on. She stood by her husband’s side, doing her ‘wifely duties’—smiling when necessary, reminding him of information or names in his ear, charming the opposite party and their spouse—the typical tiring dance. 

Why am I even doing this?

When he no longer needed her by his side, she quietly broke away, heading to an area where she could be alone for a while. She sat behind a shadowy section of a wall, in the back room of the lounge, pulled out her phone and began texting her friend Sasha, who should’ve been in attendance, when, all of a sudden, two voices could be heard having a not so ‘small’ argument.

“How dare you! You just announced that Shane would be given the company!”

“It’s still my company.”

“Does that mean you won’t hand over your stocks? You son of a bitch! How could you do this to my boy? Is he just your workhorse while you whip; He’s just a face?”

“When did I say I was giving him full control? CEOs are never in full control. I’ve done nothing wrong. I don’t get what you want.”

“Transfer ownership! Two male rats cannot exist in the same hole!”

“If he wants what’s mine, he’s gonna have to work for it! I can’t just give him what I’ve built… I gave him a chance. If he messes up, there‘s Monty, and even Alex thought he’s young now. Hell, there are many others that’ll fight for it—not Kendell, of course, but you’ll see.”

“He has been working for it! I’ll never get over the embarrassment of being of the same species as you. You are a monster, a demon, a malformation. The fact that you would even bring up that woman’s child but K isn’t an option.”

“You think because he does what the fuck he’s supposed to do—because he’s the firstborn, it’s all that matters. No, Livi, that ain’t how it works. He’s so weak.”

“All parents plan for their children. Can’t you see what you’re doing? You of all people should know!”

“And what do you think I’m doing? Strong men create good times and good times create weak men.” Michonne could hear him smirk at his every word.

“You won’t win!”

“Livi… I always win!”

Eleanor stormed out, slamming the door behind her. John left behind her as easily as he came, leaving her sitting in mellowing in her thoughts! She knew John was cruel but he was basically putting a target on his son’s back, leaving him with no protection! How in God’s name could he put his son on the chopping block just to see if he’d survive?

What the actual fuck! Oh… I can’t breathe!

She got up, nose clenching, making breathing difficult. Stumbling to the balcony for fresh air, her mind a mess with this new information. She did not know how Shane would take it; he craved his father’s approval. Her mouth opened and closed without making a sound. There was no backing out now—not enough and not soon enough to make a difference—that’s where they were at. They were foolish to think things would be this easy. Stakeholders, board of directors...

He was at everyone’s mercy, especially John. A CEO with barely any power. A fucking puppet… He won’t be a John Sigismund!

“Eavesdropping? Really?”

“Rick… What are you talking about?” Her expression was carefully designed and constructed.

“Earlier in the lounge, when Eleanor and John were talking.”

“And how would you know that?”

“I just follow the scent of treachery; that’s how I found you.”

“Why are you here?” He ignored the inquiry.

“By the way, congrats on getting everything you wanted. Gonna be a long ride from here, though.”

“Did you come here to fuck with me?”

“No…”

“Go back.” She had no intention of playing his game.

“I forgot to tell you… You look beautiful…”

Rick cracked a grin and concentrated on her for a long time, his gaze gentle. Michonne could almost call it romantic. While they processed the statement, she leaned back on the balcony railing, her eyes deepening and her head tilted.

“I like the beard.”

“Didn’t have time to shave before I got here. Should I keep it?”

“I still prefer your clean-shaven look.”

“Give it time. You’ll like it all the same.”

“Can I have one?” Her tone softened.

“I thought you stopped smoking.”

“I have.”

Rick peered at her, pulling out his pack and removing one of the cigarettes, which he placed in her lips. He didn't reach for his lighter, instead lowering his head and igniting hers with his, never once breaking eye contact.

7 years, 9 months prior

“Hey…”

“Hi…”

“Shouldn’t you be inside?”

“Shouldn’t you?”

“Touché…”

“Rick?”

“Mmm.”

“I wanted to apologise to you… for how I reacted at the wedding. That wasn’t called for.”

“Nah, no need. Should’ve talked to you better than that. I can see how it sounded... I’m not really good with people.”

“Believe it or not, me either.”

“You seem like a lively person... can’t see that.”

“I’ve had two friends all my life; everything I’ve known about the world, I learned from them... My parents didn’t like me out much.” Rick didn’t respond, simply looking at her, waiting for her to go on. Lost in reminiscing, she did. “I met them when I was like six; we went to the same schools… Getting married, I realised… I don’t know so much. Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, go on.” She looked at him with sparking eyes. She didn’t understand why he, of all people, would even want to hear her nonsense.

“There’s nothing particularly about me that stands out. I thought playing the piano and violin, painting, speaking multiple languages, and having the best grades made me great, and that everyone saw it like that too. I mean, it made my parents happy, my grandparents too… If I did well, my sister would be mad because everyone would praise me. I like seeing her mad; does that make me a bad person?”

“No, but I ain’t exactly the best person to judge so…” Michonne chuckled at his words.

He really is a socially awkward guy… What a weird response!

“You know… marriage is not what I imagine, at all…”

“Hmm?”

“Your brother doesn’t treat me badly or anything; I just thought…”

“Not some fairytale, huh?”

“No… I feel like an outsider here, with your family... in my home.”

“You smoke? 

“Huh? Uh—” 

Rick held out a cigarette; she took it and lit it for her. Unacquainted with the habit, her throat burned from the smoke, and she began coughing vigorously. She took it out of her mouth, handing it back to the owner. Without realising it, he spat out a globe of saliva. His eyes brimmed with tears of mirth, and the smile tugging his lips broke into a grin.

“Why are you laughing? It’s not funny!” Her eyes blinked excessively, and her cheeks burned as she hit him with an accusing glare.

“You don’t gotta do things you aren’t comfortable with, you know. You’re your own damn person, with your own damn feelings. If you don’t like something, say it! Got something on your mind? Voice it! Don’t be a people pleaser; don’t want people walking all over you, right?”

“What?”

“And if they gotta problem with boundaries, fuck ‘em. Stay away from folks like that. Live however the hell you want. Not for your parents, not for Shane; just you.”

She studied him with unwavering attention, and he stared back at her with a quizzical brow, left hand in his pants pocket still smoking. He was much kinder than she gave him credit for. And he was different from the others. Standing here, she felt at ease. It was sparingly easier to talk to him.

Present

“Why did you come back?” Her voice broke. “You said you wanted nothing to do with this family—with the Walsh's... So why?”

“You know… On my way back, I thought, ‘What would I do when I saw your face again?’ Would I choke the life out you? Maybe I’d shoot you dead for all the pain you caused me, for your lies... Looking at you now... so many plans, and yet.. nothing. Even after all this time, I—”

A tear fell from her eye. She bent her head, not daring to meet his gaze, all while he paced back to her. His face was neutral but his eyes held a crazed look. He lifted her chin with his finger and wiped the tear that trickled down her face, tilting his head to the side.

“I would say that you came back because of Lori’s death, but that was three months ago. You didn’t show up for the mother of your child, then, but Shane is taking over and here you are…”

“And what if I said Lori was part of it?”

“So you admit there are other reasons.”

“I admit that you’re gonna be crying soon. John made it so.”

“How long are you going to be here?”

“Afraid?” He nibbled her ear and for a second, her body began to fall into old habit. “Ain’t gonna push me away?” His hand began travelling up her dress. “Ain’t afraid my brother might see?”

“Where is your date? She seems sweet, all draped in white.” Her whispered question stopped him dead in his tracks. He backed off, licking his lips as his blue pools gaped at her.

“Doing something for me.”

“Doing what?"

“Hmm… I wonder.”

“Doing what?” She stepped towards him. “Rick!” 

“I expect a visit from you soon. I’ll text my number.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Shane. Specifically, the children…”

“Is this a threat?”

“No, darling… But you need an offer from me. I don’t wanna be an enemy to you of all people.”

“Says the man who wanted to strangle me on sight. Your words, not mine.”

“I still do. Ain’t that something?”

“And why exactly would you be an enemy?”

“You mean other than the obvious? Hmm, you’re gonna find out… in due time. I promise you that… Carl misses his aunt.”

“Tell Carl that—” 

Her voice was cut by a blood-curdling scream overhead, all the way to the bottom floor. A chill of fear caused them both to sprint back to the balcony. Their jaws fell, their eyes widening in surprise, as if a charge of lightning rushed through their veins, temporarily paralysing them. It was Holly. She was laid out deathly still, blood pouring from her skull and nose, eyes stood unblinking. Seeing the grotesque scene, Michonne’s mind ran straight to Lori as she covered her mouth in pure shock and horror.

…

…

…

Keynotes-

Empress Nara originally a noble-consort named Xian, was the step-empress of the Qianlong Emperor who was elevated to that rank after Empress Xiaoxianchun ( She was apparently really sweet and the love of the emperor’s life!) died. She served for many years. During the 30th year of Qianlong's reign, the Step Empress accompanied the emperor on a tour of Southern China. As the group arrived at Hangzhou, the step-empress cut her hair which you weren't supposed to do unless in mourning of the emperor and empress-dowager, so she was basically wishing them dead and wanted the marriage to be done. This was a grave crime but she was so fed up that she said fuck it!

John Sigismund Zápolya, Ottoman puppet king of Hungary contested Holy Roman Emperor Ferdinand I of Hapsburg's claim to the throne. Boring man, but not so boring life! Was even exiled and made a return. Died childless though.

Would have made a  proper note about the Qianlong Emperor. But that man had too many women and too much shit going on. He was good at his job but a shit husband hence the haircutting, but most emperors are terrible Husbands. Read a biography lol.

White eyed wolf . The expressions 白眼狼 (bái yǎn láng) – literally “white eyed wolf” and 狼心狗肺 (láng xīn gǒu fèi) – literally “heart of a wolf and lungs of a dog” are both used to describe a particularly cold-hearted, cruel person.

Prologue

Chapter-2

[thebluemoonjune]

The Sounds Of A Black Dahlia- Prologue

Summary:

8 years after marrying into a rich but cruel and messed-up family, Michonne, a loving mother and dutiful wife, finds herself in the middle of a brewing storm that may take everything she cares for, all while an unexpected member of the family returns, wanting to cause even more chaos and uproot her already troublesome life. AU Richonne centred. The first chapter is the prologue.

Today was the day—the day that her life would undoubtedly change forever. She ground her teeth in anxious worry, rocking back and forth or side to side as her fingers sought out anything she could hold onto. She looked regal as he stared at herself in the mirror, heart stumbling over its own rhythm. She couldn’t take it anymore. She got up, deciding it was best to work off her anxiety by pacing the room.

Girl, relax! Your heart is beating so fast, it’ll burst!

“Michonne! Calm down! You're getting yourself all worked up over nothing.”

“Me getting married is nothing, Sasha?”

“You told me months ago you loved this man. Your families may have pushed for this, but you told me it was okay because you fell in love with him. So why so nervous.”

“I just turned twenty… What the hell do I know about being a wife? What if I’m not ready? What if I mess up? My brother always says I’m childish. What if he thinks that? He’s six years older than me, after all. What if he changes his mind?” Michonne covered her face as her mind ran a marathon and Maggie snatched them from her.

“Stop it! You’ll mess up your makeup! I am not gonna let my best friend get married looking a damn hot mess! Get your shit together! As Sasha said, you said you loved him; this is something both your families want. It’s good you got feelings for him because you’d still have to marry him if your folks get their way. And could you, being a hopeless romantic, imagine a loveless marriage? You get to marry your first love; your first time will be with your husband; damn, he was your first kiss! He is also from one of the wealthiest families in the country and the world. You are living a fairy tale and you deserve it because you are the sweetest person I know!”

“I what if he’s having second thoughts? I’d be so embarrassed!” Sasha rolled her eyes, and going to her side.

“You told us he is the kindest, amazing, sweetest, funniest, protective, charming, understanding, most patient guy you had ever met. That’s not me exaggerating!” The three giggled as they tried to contain their emotions. “Those are your words. Honestly, Maggie and I were worried. You don’t have any experience, and it was clear your family was pushing this, but to hear how you spoke about him, it gave me relief.”

“It gave us relief.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Really! Do you wanna marry him? Believe it or not, he is not who matters here. Chonnie, you are so young and you may love him, but that’s not all it takes. You gotta be sure about these things.”

“Maggie!”

“Let her answer. Let her think about it. This is a goddamn life-changing decision, and she’s never even had sex. His dick could be small for all we know and she just goes in. We gotta know that she loves him regardless. That this, is what she wants, not her parents’ eagerness confusing her. I don’t want her to make a mistake either way.”

“Okay! Okay, I see your point—”

“I love him. I want to marry him… I do!”

“Are you sure? Think about it!”

“I’m sure, Maggie.”

“Well, you heard our girl!”

“I’m getting married!” Their mouths pulled into a silent O, increasingly as they processed the news. They soon began screaming in excitement.

The three of them held hands. Now that her friends had calmed her down, she smiled so widely, her eyes nearly pinched shut. At the same time, a knock came, and her brother Michael peeked his head in the door.

“You know, Mike, when one knocks, they usually wait for a response.” Michonne threw daggers at him and he rolled his eyes, letting himself in.

“Shut up. I see you guys worked your magic, She actually looks like a person—an adult, even. She ready?”

“She just needs her veil, but emotionally, she’s ready.” Sasha tucked it in Michonne’s hair, letting it fall over her face and she eyed Mike up and down.

“Alright, you guys, go let the others know so we can get this show on the road. My dad will come for her at the walkway.”

“Okay!” The two sent kisses and left.

“You look beautiful.” His eyes softened as he held her cheek. “Are you sure you're ready? I’ll talk to Mom and Dad. You don’t—”

“I’m ready. I promise.”

“Okay, I’m heading back. Meet us at the walkway in ten minutes.”

Michonne approached the mirror, lifted her veil, and observed herself. Her hands were balled into fists, covering her smile, big eyes gleaming over her knuckles. Her heart was still beating, but she was content as she admired her long-sleeved, ivory-stone, lace, round-neck wedding gown. Though modest, displaying no cleavage and merely her neckline, and rather traditional, it was a stunning gown. She realised why her mother chose it. They couldn't allow the media any room for criticism since they married into a white, rich family. She had to be flawless. She considered spinning around to check behind her, but decided against it since her long veil might tangle. It was time for her to leave. She shouldn’t dilly-dally any longer. She hiked up her dress and walked out the door, only to be graced by an unexpected soul leaning on the wall in a brown suit, puffing on a cigarette.

What is he doing here?

“Rick?” Surprised, she couldn’t help calling out his name. He cast his gaze in her direction, allowing their eyes to meet.

“Oh… Hey. Everyone’s waiting for you. Your bridesmaids are already in position.”

“I know; thank you for the information.”

She always wanted to say as little to him as possible. He always made her uncomfortable, like she was an outsider he would never see as anything else. So polite, it came off cold. His eyes were never still, and he only glimpsed at her in passing. Today, however, he seemed more laid back.

I didn’t even know he smoked.

“Congrats, by the way.”

“For what?

“I heard your girlfriend Lori had a baby boy.” He smiled, clearly thinking about his newborn.

“Yeah… His name is Carl.”

“Given that I’ll be his new aunt, I’ll have to get him a good gift.”

She let out an innocent smile in his direction. Rick’s eyes narrow, studying her from head to toe, causing her scepticism to be reflected by a single lifted brow. He chuckled at her reaction. Keeping his blue eyes on her, he put out his cigarette, outing it on the wall, walking right up to her and invading her space.

“Why are you doing this?”

“What?” Her brows formed a deep, perplexed wrinkle as she examined his face for answers she couldn’t find.

“You don’t have to do this, you know? Are you so afraid of Mommy and Daddy that you’d get married without so much of a peep?”

“I—”

“You ain’t one of us. You’re never gonna be one of us… It doesn’t matter who you marry or what last name you got; you don’t got our blood. You ain’t like us and you’re never gonna be like us. You can run right now. I’ll cover for you. It’ll be a little embarrassing for my brother, but he’ll thank both of us when things calm down… Trust me, this is for the best.” She blinked hurriedly, her pupils dilating as she struggled to make sense of the contradicting information.

“What is your problem with me?”

“I don’t have a problem with you; this is just advice.”

“Yes, you do! You treat me like I’m beneath you, like an afterthought.”

“Am I supposed to be friendly with you? We’re not friends; this marriage is all business too. You okay with rushing into a marriage that neither of you want?”

“What do you know! I am getting married, whether you like it or not. You don’t have the blood or the name either! Everybody knows that! So how can you stand there and insult me? I haven’t done anything to you. When I sign that marriage certificate, I’ll have the name since it’s so important to you! My children will have the blood too; that’s more than you. You are a Grimes. You aren’t one of them either…” His vast blue eyes widened in dismay before becoming dark and serious with acceptance.

“You’re right… I’m not.” His lips pulled down in a comical frown. “I—”

“Michonne!”

His expression caught her off guard. Nausea churned her stomach the more she looked at him and the more ashamed she felt. He was about to say something but the sharp voice of her father came from behind, stopping them in their tracks.

“Michonne, your late!”

“Sorry!”

Michonne hurriedly snatched up her dress with all its weight and dashed to her father’s side, who assisted with the train. She took a couple of steps forward and twisted her neck to catch a glimpse of Rick. He was leaning against the wall, a new cigarette in his lips, and looking aimlessly at the floor. She could not focus on him right now. She was set to get married. She pushed those strange thoughts to the back of her mind and concentrated on what lay ahead. Her father tucked her hand under his arm as they approached the chapel.

“Michonne.”

“Daddy?”

“You have to remember to do your wifely duties. You listen to your husband and honour his parents. Always remember your place. After today, you are a Walsh. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy…” She understood exactly what he meant. From today on, she was not their concern and she shouldn’t make mistakes that would reflect badly on them, regardless of whether she lived well or not. Her typically bright visage had darkened and become withdrawn.

“Good.” He tapped her hand repeatedly in acceptance, and his lips curled into a sneer.

They finally entered, and seeing her soon-to-be husband, all those bad thoughts faded away. He gazed at her with a light smile on his face. She had a maid of honour, Sasha, who clarified that the position was hers and Maggie was her bridesmaid; she had no others, not even her sister. Shane’s party also had two people, including his brother Monty, who served as his best man. He originally hoped for Rick, but he rejected it for unknown reasons. It didn't matter; everything was marvellous. Going down the aisle brought everything into perspective for her. Even with Sasha and Maggie’s assistance, she could feel the train of her gown and veil trailing behind her. They made it after what felt like a long journey. Her father handed her away, and her fiancé placed her hand in his. The chaplain delivered his sermon, and she was in a daze until they exchanged vows and said, ‘I do’ to cap it all off. The couple signed their papers in front of the media. 

“Alright, I need the married couple. Mr. and Mrs. Walsh, I need a picture of you cutting the cake, then we’ll go to the gardens.”

They followed the photographer’s wishes. They fed each other cake and Michonne grinned ear to ear the entire time. She didn’t know why she was so nervous in the first place. During it all, her newlywed husband was quiet during all of it, He was never much of a talker so she paid it no mind. He held her lower back and lifted her dress as he guided her to the garden. They took various photos. There was one particular one that stood out. She was standing next to him under a large, royal white-flowering redbud tree. Its sweet pea scent filled the air with a gentle, lovely fragrance. Michonne closed her eyes and inhaled the soothing scent that brushed across her nose. They were supposed to look ahead but it didn’t work out that way. Next to her husband, a baby duck had fallen behind, drawing his attention from the shoot and causing her to gaze at him. The photographer was going to delete it and try again but Michonne went to see it as she had done with all the others. His eyes looked sad, staring at the baby duck, which made her giggle. She was staring at him, basket in concern, with an outstretched hand

So sensitive! But it’s adorable. I want it.

“I like it; let’s keep it!” She called him over to show him. “Cute, right?”

“You don’t gotta keep it… We can take better ones.” She shook her head in protest.

“Nope, I’m keeping it. We can show our children how sensitive their daddy is.” She let out a sweet laugh. “Are you embarrassed? Is that why you don’t want to?” He looked at his feet for a moment before returning eye contact with her with a soft smile.

“If it makes you happy, we’ll keep it.” Her eyes were alight with joy as she giggled uncontrollably.

“I love you, Shane.” He took her hand, placing a gentle kiss on her fingers. “When we’re done, we can go to the pond and feed the ducks.”

“Hmm.”

“Redbud trees look nice.” She reached out to him, straightening his tux.

“Hmm.”

“There is a longstanding myth that Judas Iscariot hanged himself from a tree of this species... And yet, since the leaves are heart-shaped, it makes for a beautiful symbolic display of love that everyone has come to associate them with… Funny, isn’t it?”

“Hmm.”

“Is grunting all you’re going to do, my dear husband?”

“No.”

“Well, then, talk with me. What do you like and what do you hate? Did you enjoy the cake?”

“I enjoyed the cake... Today is your day; it ain’t about me.” His eyes dropped again. “It’s our day—it’s our wedding. Shane, it’s about the both of us; don’t forget that.”

“It’s time for the family portrait.” 

Both sets of relatives gathered in the sea of royal white-flowering redbud trees. Sasha and Maggie fixed her gown, and the photographer positioned everyone right away. In the mids of things, Michonne caught that some people weren't present. She scanned the surrounding area and noticed Rick standing by the side, under a tree, with his girlfriend, Lori, as she held their baby boy.

“Wait!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Rick isn’t here. He’s your brother; he should be here. Same as Carl and Lori.” Shane came to a realisation when he heard his wife’s words. His little brother wasn’t there. Following Michonne’s line of sight. He caught him in his view and waived him over.

“Rick! Come on, man! Don’t keep us waiting!” Rick stood there, unwilling to move. It was Lori who forced him over. “Alright! Now that lover-boy is here, let’s do this.” Shane slapped his brother on the back.

Since the reception was held in the gardens as well, they evacuated the media so Michonne could finally relax and not worry about how she looked to others. Everyone was having a merry old time. Sasha was harassing her brother Mike and Maggie was down drinking. Shane had gone with his father and brother, talking to business associates. She was sitting at the table alone when her mother-in-law Eleanor, sat next to her.

“Not taking part in the festivities?”

“I’m okay.”

“Mhmm. You know, Michonne, I like you.”

“Huh?”

“I see a lot of myself in you.” Eleanor reached out and played with Michonne’s diamond earring. “You’re a sweet, young girl, yes, even naive. No doubt your parents had you under lock and key. I’d say that you’d be eaten up and swallowed whole, but I see this spark in you—this resilience, this loyalty… You’ll be a good wife for my son. He doesn’t need some floozie who thinks a baby is gonna make all her dreams come true. You’re a good, smart girl who will learn and survive. It’s why my cunt of a husband and I chose you. My son needs someone like you by his side.”

“I don’t—I don’t think I understand…” She admitted, her voice carrying the resignation of someone who had yet to find answers. Eleanor withdrew her hand from the clueless girl.

“Of course not, dear, but you will, given time. A word of advice, keep your thoughts to yourself; do not care what anyone else has to say and you’ll be just fine. I know a diamond when I see it… I’ve enjoyed this talk.”

Eleanor got up, leaving Michonne spluttering incoherent sounds, as if her thoughts were too tangled to express. Eleanor was always sweet to her. She didn’t quite understand much of their cryptic discussion nor did her mother-in-law wish to explain it. Michonne didn’t know just how valuable those words would come to mean or their weight. She was in thought until her husband came to fetch her.

“Are you ready?

“Mhmm.”

...

8 years, 9 months later

They stood over what seemed to be a lifeless corpse, Michonne’s white heels stained with fresh blood. Time slows as the gravity of the situation weighs it down. She grabbed her chest, her fingers quivering, as if attempting to keep her pounding heart from escaping. Then she put her quivering tips against her temples, attempting to calm the frenetic ideas racing through her skull, each one a teasing reminder of her rising terror. Their breath came in jagged, uneven gasps, as if their lungs strained to suck in oxygen within the crushing grasp of dread, each inhaling a war against their own panic as their eyes met. They were fucked.

...

...

...

Now that the prologue is complete, the key points to properly understanding this story are colour, styling, clothing, relationships, and references to sayings and myth. The colours will tell you a lot or lead you astray. I put both negative and positive for a reason. Sometimes one will apply, and sometimes both will apply. I was listening to the succession theme the whole time I was writing Chapter One while listening to Jon and Daenerys love theme/suite, plus it was also an element mix of the Og Dynasty and Bold and the Beautiful. Og characters will be in this as main players, along with Richonne, Carl, Shane, Andrea, Magna, Maggie, Sasha, Beth, Daryl, Negan, Phillip, and Jessie. I don’t know if I missed someone; I probably did. So I have a little chart that will be updated as the story goes on. It is not a necessity but to keep track as the story goes on...if it goes on. you can skip everything below!

Family Chart

…

THE WALSH’s

Original Branch

…

Ronan Lucius Walsh II

Ronan Lucius Walsh III (66), Patrick Friedrich Walsh (42), Cillian Artorius Walsh (63),  John (61) Castus Walsh, Joseph Caesar Walsh (58)

Branch 1.1

    John Castus Walsh (61), Eleanor Olivier Grimes-Walsh (55),

Shane Johnathan Walsh (34), Shawn Montgomery Walsh (32),  Kendall Oliva Walsh {K} (28)

Branch 1.2

John Castus Walsh (61),  Andrea Holden (36)

Alexander Malcolm Walsh (18), Andrew John Walsh (11)

Branch 2.1

Shane Johnathan Walsh (34), Michonne Marie Walsh {Chonne} (28)

Andre John Anthony Walsh{AJ} (6), Maliyah Olivier Marie Walsh {Lia} (3)

Branch 2.2

Shawn Montgomery Walsh {Monty} (32), Magna Anders (27)

N/A

GRIMES’

Eleanor Olivier Walsh-Grimes , James Augustus Remus??

Richard Daniel Grimes {Rick} (30), Lori Wayne (30)

Carl Arthur Grimes (8)

HAWTHORNE’s

Michael Mace Hawthorne (59), Michelle Marie Hawthorne (55)

Michael Micah Hawthorne {Mike}(33), Macie Maya Hawthorne (31), Michonne Marie Walsh (28)

Chapter-1

Chapter-2

[thebluemoonjune]

New Beginnings (Richonne One-shot)

A pregnant Michonne is ready to welcome the new year with her family, Rick, Carl and Judith. She is thankful to where they have reached and hopeful for better days ahead. A New Year's Richonne oneshot. No saviour arc, no Negan.

A joyful new year always began with the sharing of meals and desserts that spoke to people's spirits. Additionally, we shared them with family and friends, demonstrating that our blessings were also theirs.

They called for a home to belong to a community, comfort, food, and safe water. They both required a secure haven for their well-being and for their existence to have meaning: a utopia rather than hell on earth. They owed it to each other and their precious children to fight back against an entity that could devastate everything, that turned friend against friend and separated them in innumerable ways. They were a family and a team that were prepared for the future and now that they had it, they'd protect it. A new year.

A new life does not begin with a gift wrapped in colourful bows and the promise of security, but rather as a path through the unknown with a degree of fog and frost. As a result, it requires a determined heart to seize it, daring feet to traverse it, and a brave sight to remain alert to its curves along with its peaks and valleys. If there were any other way, people would not live such lacking lives from birth to death. To achieve more, one must accept the feeling of danger and risk as one strives for the far distance. The world at large had been devastated and transformed. It had fewer people in it. So many people perished, yet it didn't stop life from going on. As she watched Judith play with Gracey, Michonne stroked her full-term stomach. One day at a time—that's how they took it.

“Did you get the black eye bean?”

“Yep. Now you ain’t gotta rip my head off for it.”

“I’m not that bad!” Michonne watched her husband tilt his head to the side, eyebrows raised to the sky. “Okay, maybe a little, but just a little… My mom used to cook on New Year's for good luck… I want us to start our new year right.”

“Carl always hated beans—beans of any kind.”

“Well, he eating it today. Judith too. No one and I mean no one, is getting off.”

“Yes, ma'am!” He chuckled at her. “You know, you never talked about your mom much, or both your folks for that matter.”

“I never realised…”

“Is it painful?” The couple stared at each other till Michonne broke the silence.

"No, not anymore… My mother was upbeat, opinionated, and the ultimate decider of everyone's life journey... Like any good army drill sergeant, she planned what to do, the schooling, and the fun that followed. Did I ever mention that I was homeschooled?"

"No."

“I was… till I was eleven years old.”

"I could see that. She was a drill sergeant?"

"No, but she acted like one." Michonne laughed, stoking her stomach, before cracking a weary smile. "She was actually a writer; children's books... Strange, huh?"

"Nah... makes perfect sense..." His eyes softened. "She made you."

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment, Rick…”

“It’s a compliment.” He couldn't take his sight off her.

"I hear you… My father did nothing but work: work at his job, work on the house and work on getting enough sleep so he didn't fall asleep on the way to his firm. He inspired me to become a lawyer. He would sometimes grin or laugh, and when he did, the world brightened for those brief minutes. Then he'd fall back into his whirlpool of worry."

“He sounded a lot like my old man.”

“He probably was… They were good parents—not perfect but good enough. That’s all they can hope—that we can hope.”

“We’re doin' fine and we’re gonna do a whole lot better.”

“Alright, whatever you say, old man. Don’t you have to help, Daryl? Don’t keep him waiting.”

“I can cancel, stay with you… Ain’t no big deal.” Pulling her closer, he planted a longing kiss on her lips, causing her to giggle when he finally broke away.

“No, you go. I just have the peas left. By that time, you should be all done and you can fetch Carl from Edith and Judy from terrorising Hershel and Gracey.”

“Soon she’ll have someone else to nag… You sure you’re right? You been out of it since yesterday.”

“I’m fine, Rick you worry too much… They’ll be here soon, any day now. It’s normal.”

“I never thought this would happen again, for us.”

“We deserve it, Rick... A new beginning, as you said… Now go.” Rick planted a kiss on her forehead, then her belly, before she turned from him to continue the preparation of their celebration meal.

“If anything happens, send for me. I’ll come to you as soon as possible, Okay?”

“Go! I send for you.”

Regardless of his wife's words, he couldn’t help but stall and linger at the kitchen exit. She was late in her pregnancy and he wanted to treasure every second till the baby arrived. He was thirsting to be by her side. They never expected to ever have this. He never thought she’d allow herself the chance after all that had happened in the past. However, she gave him one and gave their family one as well. After being hit with a side eye, he managed to make his way to Daryl. When they completed their duty at hand, he fetched Carl and Judith to go home.

…

The family of four placed themselves in their seats for lunch after Michonne snatched Carl to help her set the dining table. Rick took Judith into his lap, knowing that he’d have to feed her since she was even more picky than Carl.

“Since we're here, I think we should say what we’re thankful for… and our hope for the future.” Michonne’s eyes never left her boys for one second. “ Carl?”

“I just want things to be the same as always and I’m thankful we’re all here.”

“Me too, Son.” Grinning at Carl’s answer, Rick leaned over to rub his head.

“Did you say ‘me too’ to not come up with something different, Grimes?”

"Maybe, but I mean it. You know that.”

“Well, I know that… I’m thankful that I found you. I’m thankful for getting me out that day, even if you were an asshole afterwards.”

“In my defence, I didn’t know you well yet, and I still kept you around when I sent the others away. That’s gotta count for somethin', right? After all, we were the same.”

“You didn’t know or trust me, but that didn’t stop you from checking me out, did it?” 

“You noticed that?”

“Judith and I are still here, you know?” They both crackled at their son’s embarrassed distaste for the current topic but kept going.

“You not kicking me out is part of the reason I put up with your behaviour.” Rick sighed at her pettiness. “Us being the same and me longing to stay with you guys is another part as well, though I didn’t realise that last part just yet... Carl?”

“Yeah?”

“You and Judybug saved me. You don’t know how much you two did. Thank you for making me one of you and thank you for being my best friend and not letting me chicken out… You gave me a second chance, all three of you and I love you so much for it… What I want is all of you safe and sound and happy, and by my side. The baby included, of course. Thank you for giving me back my family.”

Her eyes welled up with tears of unfathomable affection. The happiness dripped from her eyes and they were soon all overcome with shared emotion. It was such a warm, heart-gripping moment, only disrupted by Michonne's booming grunt of pain. At that moment, she came to face the fact that she’d been having contractions all day. Part of her was in denial, only being focused on celebrating New Year's the right way with her family. She stood up, grabbing the tablecloth, and Rick understood immediately. He knew she was acting weird.

"Carl, go grab Siddiq!”

“It’s happening now?”

“Yeah! Go!”

…

Childbirth has always been risky. It makes little difference that it is natural. It is also quite natural for a mother or baby to die. That is why they had made so much progress in medicine for safe childbirth. Michonne and the infant were in far more danger now that the world had changed. Rick became aware of a massive natural birth occurring at his feet. It had struck him, just now. Panicked and fearful, he still stayed by her side. It was his job as a father and a husband. No matter how hard it was on him mentally, she was having it a thousand times worse. She was the one in pain; she was the one in danger. He sat behind her and supported her back with every push, encouraging her whenever she began to falter.

“Rick!” She cried out in search of unconscious comfort for her partner-in-crime.

“I’m here, darlin'; I’m right here! You’re doing great!”

“Why did I think this would be easier the second time around?”

“Because you’re amazing; that’s why! You’re doin’ great!”

They traverse till the drawing of beautiful angel breath, serenaded by freedom. A sign of their baby's existence.

…

A happy new year was partly about starting again and partly about being grateful for all the blessings that had been granted the previous year. It was a warm welcome to new fortunes and the courage to confront problems gracefully and compassionately. Rick stared at his family as their attention fell to the newest member; his son from his departed first wife and his adopted daughter. They had fought so hard and lost so much to ensure they made it. reminding him of the bad, his mind ran to his dear, long gone friend Hershel, and his words to him,

 'Things break, but they can still grow. These little bristles, they'll take root,'.  

His wife was spent but she still held a peaceful smile on her face, gawking at their son swaddled in her arms, the first biological child between the two of them. Judith slipped her finger into his outstretched palm and watched as the tiny body curled around it. His gentle breath touched the back of her hand. Her playful day already slipping away as she observed her new brother.

Rick was going to speak again when Carl spoke first.

“We can’t use fireworks to celebrate but we do have the sparklers! It’ll be nice just to have something, right, Judy?”

“Yeahhh!”

“Alright, you two go now. I’ll keep Michonne and the baby company.”

Carl took Judith after she planted a kiss on her new baby brother and off they went. Michonne, feeling her husband’s eyes on her, allows their gazes to meet. They both knew this was what they struggled and fought so hard for. It wouldn’t be easy but year after year, he would make sure his children—all three of them—lived the best life, a full life. Michonne stretched out her hand.

“Rick…” Her words were weary and had a dream-like quality to them, as she seemed to crave the solace of rest, the enticement of the nice bed beckoned to her tired body.

“Darlin, what's wrong? Uncomfortable? Tell me, I’ll get it…” She shook her head, confusing him.

“His name; I have it.”

“Yeah?” His tone was gentle as he lowered his body next to her and she placed their newborn in his arms. “What is it?"

“RJ. Richard Daniel Grimes Junior... Do you like it?”

“I grateful…” Rick's eyes grew damp. He didn’t expect her to name their little boy after him. “You sure?”

“I’m sure… He’ll be as smart, sweet and determined just like his namesake… Just like his dad.”

“Thank you.” Bending over, as he kissed her forehead and whispered into her ear.

“No, thank you.” 

[thebluemoonjune]

Home (Richonne One-shot)

Even with Rick's difficulties and trauma, the Grimes family is still going strong after two weeks since Richonne made it back home.

Her life had long been defined by womanhood and motherhood, long before this. Her first was not long for this world, and she had lost her second, but she still had a daughter and son whom she would give and do anything for. She had murdered for them. She battled on their behalf. She could even leave them with a promise to bring their father home. Many things happened and she was on the verge of giving up as well, but heaven had eyes. They were finally back together. As one family. She opened her eyes to discover her hubby still sleeping. He's normally awake before anybody else owing to many bad nights, but he slept better than he has in recent days, forcing a gentle smile on her plump lips. He was so gorgeous while he slept; his steady heart and breaths were enough to make her fall in love with him all over again. After two weeks at home, she had to constantly reassure him that they were safe, that he was doing fine and that they were truly home. They would never recover any of that lost time. Not her year of struggling to recuperate and survive, nor the eight years it utilised to break him. She slid out of bed and put on her bedroom slippers to prepare breakfast before everyone awoke.

In his nightmares, he heard his children's footsteps, laughter, and impromptu singing. He would feel both asleep and awake in his spirit while he experienced the joys of parenting. Then it would be blankness, when he couldn't remember his oldest's face or how he came to terms with the fact that he'd never see his wife or daughter again in this life, let alone see his youngest, but he'd wake. He'd be greeted by his beloved's face, and his children would sometimes be wrapped up in the blankets with them. "Father" is an attribute of a man that comes to life when he is with his kid, and it does so because he adores them, enjoys being with them, and values the connection they share. He was still a father. It was a lengthy dream. One in which his son was dubbed a sacrifice. His son is not a sacrifice. He was his son. He had certain ambitions and goals, but they were cut short. If he were here, he'd see that everything worked out in the end. He would recognise and adore his little brother, and he would realise how much his litter sister had matured. He was his son, and he missed him. He loved his son unconditionally, and there was no price to it. His wife had awakened before him. An unusual occurrence. She must have been preparing breakfast for him and the children. His children. He was still a father. He was still a husband.

...

Placing the plates, knowing it was about time, her family got down. She continued to reflect. Feeling a new person develop within you and raising them to be self-sufficient was both the greatest joy and the greatest challenge. It combined with her previous successes to shape who she is now. Being a parent should be like that—not an extra or an "add-on," but a fundamental topic around which other interests revolve. Now she was pregnant for the third time. Her child, whether a boy or girl, is her child, as are their elder siblings. Her kid had her soul in their heart, and her heart will be theirs forever. Her child is free to live, grow, and love whoever they want, since no regulation can include such a blessed thing. If her child ever needs her help or advice, she will be there for them. She would go through the gates of hell to keep them safe, feeling honoured and grateful for the opportunity. Each child is a precious gift. She was lonely and without any comfort the last time. After all, what comfort could a three-year-old provide a pregnant widow? Her husband missed their son's first step: his initial words. They had lost out on those experiences together, but now they had another chance. Were they both afraid? Yes, but she had everyone she needed with her this time. They'd be okay.

Walking down the stairs, he heard her steady steps. She’ been placing the plates, knowing it was about time, for the family to go down, lost in her thoughts. Her placing her hand on her tummy drew his attention. They were once against expecting. Their child would be born in a few months, ready to seek and receive love, to be part of that lovely protective web of emotions that gives, nurtures, and protects, just like his or her siblings. Once Again. They would once again encourage them to be the greatest versions of themselves, to rewind, to abandon the poisonous cynicism and instead weave the love web that their kid would want. She was the finest mother he'd ever known, the greatest wife, and he aimed to be the ideal husband and father.

“Hey…”

Placing the final plate, she gazed upon her husband’s face. “Hey, baby… Want some eggs?”

“Yeah…” He planted a kiss on her lips, deepening it the first chance he got. The kiss went on for two whole minutes before she managed to break it.

“Sit.”

“Yes ma’am.” A chuckle escaped his lips before his face grew pensive.

“Rick?”

“I had a dream.”

“Oh, I thought you were sleeping better.”

“I am, darlin’. I am… It was about Carl.”

“Carl?”

Put all unpleasant memories in your left hand and all happy memories in your right. Memories danced on the edge of his thoughts, alternating between cherished times and terrible recollections, walking a fine line between consolation and misery. The world went on, indifferent to the sorrow that enveloped him, like a dark cloud that followed him everywhere, casting a shade on even the okay days. Those were the sentiments he held in the CRM. Then he couldn't recall the faces, which was worse than everything else he'd experienced in that godforsaken place. The weight of loss hung on his shoulders like an unbreakable load. Things were different, however. He was home with his wife and children. He could see his son's face again and had a photo of him his daughter, a little younger than he remembered her when he was taken. The fact that he could see his son's face was incredible. He was at home with his family. It wasn't an awful dream after all.

“He came to say hi.”

“I’m happy for you. Maybe he’ll visit me sometime?”

“Mhmm. Maybe Andre will.”

Her eyes welled and a weary smile came to her lips. “Maybe.” Next thing, Rick wrapped his arms around her and the swayed from side to side, resting his chin atop her head.

“I thought I told you sit, Grimes.”

“I will. For now, I just wanna love on my wife… Our boys, they’re in a better place, watchin’ us, wantin’ us to live life.”

He was, by no means, religious. He grew up a Baptist, and he would go to church every once in a while with Lori and Carl before the new world but his faith had left him long ago, but when it came to their children, he had faith. Faith that they weren't hurting and they were happy. Faith that they would all be together again. Was he hypocritical in his thinking? Yes, he was; regardless, it was how he viewed things.

A pair of heavy footsteps came running. Their children had arrived, ready to start the day. Breakfast consisted of fluffy pancakes, eggs, and berries, all as warm as they would be in the sun, with maple syrup threaded on top. It provided a tranquil sense of comfort, which helped to start the day off well.

“Morning, sleepyheads.”

“Mornin’ Mom! Morning Dad!”

“Morning, Mama! Dad!” Unlike his sister, her son hurried through the morning hug he owed her and rushed to his father’s side. “Oh.”

“Hey, junior.” He beamed, ruffling his son's curly brown hair. How’d you sleep, hmm?”

“I slept great!” Rj proclaimed, pulling the seat next to his father.

“What ‘bout you, Judy? Sleep alright?”

“Kinda.”

“She was doing homework till 10:30.” Michonne poured the three orange juices. “I think they are giving her too much work. I don’t like that they skipped RJ either.”

“I argue about Judith, but skipping grades just means our boy takes after you.”

“Two whole grades? He’s eight, Rick.”

“And he’s brilliant and I’m proud of him.” He gazed deep into her eyes. “I’m just happy they’re living normal lives.”

“I’ll talk to Judith’s teacher.”

“I go with you.” Rick gave her a deep grin, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Four eggs for breakfast, fried in a brushing of olive oil, lightly salted... so perfect. Just the way I like ‘em.”

“So perfect, Mama,” RJ said, obviously following his dad, earning a warm smile from both his parents.

“I’m glad you and your daddy like it, baby…” Michonne placed a bowl of freshly cut tomatoes at the centre of the table and her two special men reached for some. “Judy? Since school is finishing early, what’s your plan for the rest of the day?”

“Well, I promised Gracey I’d help her with her assignment.” Reading the disappointment on her parents' faces, she added, “I can’t tell her I can’t.”

"No, sweety, we’ll manage. But you keep your weekend free, okay?”

“Deal!”

“RJ?”

“Mhm?”

“Daddy is taking you out after school. Just the two of you. Behave.”

“I always behave.”

“Yeah, right.” Judith rolled her eyes

“I do!”

“No, you don’t!”

“Alright, alright… Eat up or you two will be late.” He simply stared at his his then his wife. The joy was apparent.

...

“Once upon a time, there were two children, one boy and one girl. Their parents loved them like a thousand suns, and they grew up to be clever and carin’. The father joined ‘em in the kitchen and danced to insane music; the sillier, the better. He followed ‘em with fingers that could transform them into monsters with a single twitch. The mother encircled ‘em with affection and defended ‘em like no other lioness…”

He smiled softly as he saw his junior yawn. Trying to persuade RJ to sleep in it is like separating an octopus from its prey. There might have been some anger rising in him—frustration—but he had missed too much of his son's life to harbour such feelings. They were both overly obsessed with one another. Even after three bedtime stories, he wasn't ready to leave his kid. His namesake, who was about to be dethroned as the youngest, was all he could have wished for. RJ begrudgingly closed his wide brown eyes and allowed the realm of dreams to take him. He kissed him good night on his forehead, dragging his feet out the door after taking one last look for the night. The couple opted to announce their new addition to their children later, preferring to focus on connecting and reconnecting right now.

…

Entering the bedroom, he smiled. Rick and Michonne gave each other their full attention as they celebrated Rick's good day of connecting with the children, specifically RJ. The temperature outside had dropped to practically freezing, but inside, they had a raging fire, also known as each other, and were soon pretty cosy. Michonne lay in bed across from Rick, her feet resting in his lap.

"I guess RJ is knocked out?"

"Yep." His shoulders slouched. "He put up a good fight, though."

"Don't feel too sad... You have tomorrow, the day after that, and the day after that one. We have time."

Rick let out an anguished sigh and was stimulated by her toes moving over his leg. "We do," he explained, his voice gruff yet calm. "I wish he could stop ageing, if even for a few years."

"Okay, don't get carried away over there," she said, smirking.

Chuckling at her words, he tugged on her feet. "Get over here," he stated, suggestively.

And with an amused smile, she sat on his lap, and as she adjusted, she could feel Rick hard beneath her.

"Hard, huh?"

"I am," He threw one arm around her waist and pulled down the strap of her silk pink nightgown. He squeezed her right breast and kissed the back of her neck.

Michonne felt his desire and rolled her hips, tingling from the sensation of his dick against her pussy. She should have become used to him by now, given their frequent screwing, but they had more than eight years to make up for. Her bodily response was still strong, which seemed strange. But every time he touched her, it was distinctive. Addictive even. She let out a small sigh as his left hand moved south, pushing beyond her panties to touch her slit. He didn't waste any time, which made her happy. She adored how much he loved her. How much he longed for her. She relaxed her body against his and extended her legs, granting his wish to explore. His fingers began to work. He pulled her off and stroked her clit as she vibrated softly on him. 

"Rick," she forced out softly, his fingers much overpowering her thoughts till she came.

He inhaled sharply as her breasts crushed against him, and his lips brushed against hers. Rick felt his dick buzzing. He really wanted her. She drew him in for a deeper kiss, holding his hair and inviting him to join her on the bed.

On top of her. He was both kind and passionate towards her. He landed another kiss on her lips before moving down her body, delivering several on her stomach, his dick only becoming harder as he returned to her chest. He enjoyed how well the breasts fit in his palms. Her pregnancy with RJ filled them out considerably more than they were eight years ago. It was the first thing he noticed. He sucked and nibbled her hardened nipples.

He licked and lapped at her erect nipples, smiling as she groaned in return. He admired her figure and enjoyed touring it. He'd missed her silky, creamy, dark brown skin and all of her lovely muscles. "Shit," he muttered into her ear, making both of them snicker. But the lightness immediately faded as he resumed their kiss and the top of his dick got cosy with her entrance. They both murmured silently, anticipating the moment to follow as her clit touched his tip. Their lips got chaotic while he sought to find his way inside, and their moans grew louder as he pressed into her.

"Right, ahhh!" Michonne muttered as he pressed on and began thrusting.

"Ahhh!" She gasped with a gentle moan. Filling her to the brim, pressing along her walls. He was great. It was greater once he started pounding. He rolled his hips methodically and sensually, hitting numerous places simultaneously, kissing her neck and grasping her breasts, captivating her entire body. She experienced an upheaval and was unsure if she ever wanted to get off. If she wasn’t already pregnant, he’d surely knock her up tonight.She could feel the impending climax as his dick worked against her clit with each stroke.

"Darlin', I'm gonna come," he declared, breathing against his wife's throat. He could feel the rhythm in his chest and his vision was a swirl of loveliness before him.

He enjoyed how thick and clinging it was actually. They had become soaked during sex. Michonne seemed aware of her actions, despite her suggestions indicating otherwise. The fashion in which her hips met his.

The couple shared unrivalled chemistry, which resulted in an incredible time between the two like all those years ago. The sort of sex that came with wet, sloppy kisses, strong grunts, nicks and scratches, bites, and chaotic, incoherent curses in moments of deep lust.

Rick felt Michonne's limbs weaken and the feeling of her bathing his dick, similar to how his fingers felt before. The taste of his name on her lips motivated him to finish quickly. The smell of sex filled the air as he grunted and halted his grinding. He rested, his forehead brushing hers, and caressed her belly with tenderness. Their thick lungs were filled with love and lust—even before they came.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Rick's smile was so vast that you could scarcely see his eyes, and her flush was like flowering blossoms, conveying the love of her heart. They were so fortunate to be able to look directly into each other's eyes at that silent moment when the rest of the world was placed on hold. She put her palm on his chest and felt the tempo of his heartbeat. They had a wordless feeling of joy. Joy was a vital part of the recipe for life, and when they were happy, their lips curled into matching smiles.

“It’s good to be home.” A soft smile played on his lips.

“It is.”

[thebluemoonjune]

[thebluemoonjune]

RICHONNE + some of my favorite moments