28th of May, 1989
Michael is 30, Angela is 25

Michael: I stood above the toilet, fidgeting with the pill bottle in my hand.

Today I was finally getting rid of them.

I haven't been using them, not since the day I told Angela about it all.

And after the last few weeks working with Jake, I finally felt like I could maybe take this next step of getting rid of the pills, for good.

Angela was standing at the door, leaning against it. I could feel both her and Jake's eyes on my back.

"Michael." Jake said, a hint of urgency in his voice.

"Can't you do it?" I asked, desperate.

"No, this has to be you." he answered.

They've been standing for the last 30 minutes, just watching me as I prepared myself.

Angela sighed softly, moving to lean against the counter of our bathroom.

I could see the discomfort on her face.

She had insisted on being there for me during this moment, even though I knew her back had been bothering her for the last few weeks.

It was obvious that standing for too long wasn't good for her, especially with our little ones growing.

"Just think of how far you've come, Michael," Jake broke the silence again. "You told me you don't need them anymore."

"What if I do? What if I slip up?"

"You won't," Angela reassured and grabbed the edge of the sink for support. "You promised me, remember? Promised us."

She rubbed her stomach gently. I reached out, touching it, feeling our babies kick.

Tears welled up at the thought of them. They need you, Michael.

I closed my eyes, and the tears ran free as images of my father flooded my mind. He'd been in there a lot lately.

His harsh words, the constant pressure from him to be perfect, his conditional love.

The anger and sadness that had festered inside me for years began to bubble up again.

I could feel it all threatening to overwhelm me.

I swore to myself that my children will never feel that way about me.

Jake and I talked about it often in our sessions; the way I grew up, with a father that had shaped me into being his dream, never considering my own desires or needs.

The image of Joseph's face was burned into my memory, a constant reminder of the expectations I could never meet. Not in his eyes, at least.

It made me understand some of the reasons behind my struggles.

Jake cleared his throat. "Remember who you're doing this for, Michael."

I looked at him. He was right.

I was doing this for my future family, for my future wife, who had been nothing but supportive through all of this.

And yet, that wasn't enough, because this was a step I needed to take for myself, and myself only.

I kept my hand rested on Angela's protruding belly while she soothed my arm.

Like always, her soft touch pulled me into reality.

"Okay," I took in a deep breath. "Okay."

She moved closer, intertwining our fingers and clutching my arm with her other hand. "I'm here."

Nodding, I flicked the cap off the orange bottle with my thumb. It echoed as it hit the floor.

I blinked when I saw the pills drop into the toilet, almost like it wasn't me who poured them out.

Jake sighed in relief before handing me another bottle.

I repeated my actions, bottle by bottle, until the very last pill was in the toilet bowl.

"Now flush." he demanded, gently.

Angela squeezed my hand, her head placed against my shoulder. "Come on, Mike."

Her silent encouragement pushed me forward, and my fingers hovered above the handle for a moment.

Determination washed over me, her presence giving me that last bit of strength I needed.

We all watched the pills as they spiraled down, disappearing from our lives.

I felt my heart beat faster, the realization of what I'd done hitting me.

Angela held me when I broke down in her arms.

I clutched onto her, feeling relieved, but also scared for what was about to come.

~

My head lay in Angela's lap as we sat in the living room, nothing but the warm afternoon air surrounding us.

I examined the slow movements of the water in the pool, noticing every small bug and bird that flew by.

Neverland was quiet today.

Angela asked Edith to excuse the staff, knowing how important this day was for my recovery.

Jake just left for a walk after lunch, giving Angela and me some much-needed time alone.

Still, I felt drained; emotionally and physically, after this morning.

"Mm," Angela moaned, shifting underneath me. Her hands instinctively pressed into her lower back. "Gosh, Mike. It's getting really crowded in there. Your children are big."

I lifted my head and sat up, catching the small pokes through her skin.

A tiny foot stretched, pushing hard against her.

I couldn't resist. My fingers pulled up her shirt, then went to our babies who were testing their strength, and I gently poked back.

They responded immediately.

"Stop encouraging them." their mommy huffed, still with a playful sparkle in her blue eyes.

I chuckled and leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to her exposed belly.

The warmth of her skin beneath my lips was inviting, so I kissed it again.

"You're just saying that because you can't escape them." I teased, still lingering above the spot our children kicked.

"Maybe," she giggled. "But it's true. I swear, they're practicing some dance moves in there."

"Dance moves? Is that what we're calling it now?" I smiled, allowing my hands to roam her bump.

I couldn't help but come closer, feeling the heat radiating from her body.

Her arm draped lazily around my neck.

As she leaned in, I could tell she felt the same pull I did. "Oh, yeah. They're definitely taking after their daddy..."

"After their mommy, you mean... We have some feisty babies..."

"I'm only feisty because I have to keep up with you," she shot back, rolling her eyes. "You're the one who can't sit still..."

I pushed my weight against her then, drawn by the passion in her eyes, and captured her lips in a slow, loving kiss.

My hands slid to her waist as it deepened, the world around us fading until it was just her, her scent, her warmth.

Neither of us even stopped to breathe, until I felt her chest heave a little too much.

Angela gasped softly I pulled back, hovering over her.

Her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing uneven, matching my own.

"I love you, you know that, right?" I whispered.

"Of course I do," she sighed happily. "And I love you, so much."

In that moment, everything else vanished.

Rehab, the pills, the expectations. They were all gone, and only she mattered.

She'd been more than patient with me these last few weeks, especially since we haven't been this intimate.

But up until today, I thought I needed to face it all on my own, not involve her in the process.

That came to our intimacy as well, I didn't want her to feel any my burdens, in any way.

That all disappeared when she attached our lips in another passionate kiss. "I missed you..."

"Come here," I said, tugging at her shirt. "I wanna see you."

Angela hesitated for just a second, but then her mischievous smile returned. "Oh really? What are you gonna do, encourage them more?"

"Maybe." I bit my lip, my fingers sliding the fabric up.

With a swift pull, her shirt slipped off, leaving her in just her lacy bra that didn't quite hide anything.

The sight took my breath away; she was beautiful, glowing, and so very mine.

Her breasts grew significantly since I saw them last. They looked so restricted against the lace.

As I took a moment to admire her, my thoughts drifted back to our first encounter.

The hotel room, the way she looked at me, wide-eyed, full of innocence and curiosity about who I really was.

I remembered how our connection sparked that night, how I'd been so drawn to her energy.

Her breath hitched as I lay her down, careful as I climbed on top of her.

A loud moan left her lips when I squeezed her right breast, making it spill out just a bit.

"Michael..."

I leaned down, my lips brushing against her collarbone, savoring the way she reacted to my touch.

"I can't help it," I murmured against her skin. "You're just so beautiful."

My fingers wandered, exploring the curves of her body, each touch making her moans louder.

I squeezed again, rougher, and her nipple peeked out this time. I allowed myself to kiss it, gently.

When I reached behind her to unclasp her bra, she arched her back, "Oh, God... I need you, Michael..."

"I need you, too, baby..." I placed hungry kisses on her breasts.

I looked up. Angela blushed deeper, a shy smile playing on her lips, but it quickly transformed into a  smirk.

"Then stop teasing me."

Her own fingers went to my pants, undoing them and releasing me from my own constraints.

Both of us now determined, we stripped each other until we were completely exposed.

Every touch and kiss grew more heated.

Angela pulled me closer, her body pressing into mine despite the space her growing belly demanded.

As we moved together, I lost myself in her entirely, the world outside disappearing as we enjoyed these quiet moments of solitude.

~

Angela: Michael's breath was hot against the back of my neck, the type of warmth that sent shivers down my spine as he thrust into me, his rhythm steady and perfect.

His fingers dug into my thigh, the one that wrapped around his slender hips.

I could feel the hard muscles of his stomach press into my back with every thrust, our bodies so in sync while they moved on our soft sheets.

"Michael..." I whimpered.

Gosh, I missed him.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing over my shoulder blades, leaving a trail of rough bites that would definitely turn into marks.

My entire body trembled in response.

My growing belly made this position necessary, but to my surprise, I found myself enjoying it more than I expected.

The way my back curved to fit his body, how his large hands gripped my hips and thighs to pull me even closer - it was perfect.

His deep groans filled the air, a sound so raw that it sent another wave of heat low in my stomach.

The hand on my thigh slid further down, tugging my pelvis slightly open, giving him deeper access.

"Oh my-" I gasped, unable to finish as he hit a spot that made my vision blur. "M-Mike... I'm-"

"I know..." he whispered in my ear. "I can feel you, Angie. You can let go, baby, I'm right here..."

My core became all tingly at his words, and I couldn't stop my cries of pleasure.

I tightened around him, dragging him into his own climax.

His hips jerked, and he groaned my name, filling me completely.

Our juices flowed down our thighs, staining the sheets.

I didn't care if Jake had come back, or if he could hear us through our bedroom door.

All I cared about was Michael.

We stayed like that for a few moments, our bodies pressed together as we rode those last waves out.

His arms wrapped around me tightly, holding me against him while our breathing slowed.

"Shit, Angela," he muttered, his voice low. He pressed another kiss to the back of my neck. "You're amazing."

I couldn't stop the small, satisfied smile that appeared on my lips.

He finally pulled out and collapsed beside me, one arm draped over my waist.

But his tenderness never stopped. His hand that had just pried my legs open was now on my belly, massaging it.

Our babies resumed their kicks at their daddy's touch.

I turned my head to look at him, his face flushed and eyes half-closed.

He gazed at me like I was the only thing in the world.

"Thank you for letting me in, Mike." I said and reached out to caress his cheek.

He kissed me for the millionth time that day, "Thank you for being here with me."

A soft knock interrupted our moment, followed by Jake's voice. "Michael? The therapist is here."

My fiancé groaned loudly, burying his pinkish face in my shoulder.

"Why do they always have to interrupt...?"

I giggled, my hand rubbing his back.

"He's just doing his job," I said. "And so are you, remember?"

He only sighed, clearly unwilling to pull away.

"This is important." I added.

"Yeah..."

I kissed his chin and hurried to get out of his hold. "I'm gonna start on dinner."

Quickly, I found our clothes and threw him his, but he only watched me, still under the covers.

"You should join us for this session." he sat up.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I don't wanna make it harder for you."

Michael never broke eye contact. "But you don't. It's easier with you."

I hesitated as I pulled my shirt over my head.

We definitely made progress today, and yet I didn't want to ruin anything.

"Come on, Angie," he moved on the bed, coming closer to where I stood. There was some desperation in his voice. "I really want you there with me, I want you to hear what I've been working through. I need you to understand."

How can I refuse when he's begging like that?

"Okay." I agreed, though I was still hesitant.

Michael placed a grateful kiss on my lips, and he finally got dressed before we both left the safe walls of our bedroom.

When we reached his study, Jake and his therapist were already situated in two armchairs, comparing notes.

I could feel their eyes on us as we sat down in front of them.

Jake's gaze lingered on Michael and I's intertwined hands, eyes a bit narrow.

"I wanted Angie to be here." my fiancé explained.

The therapist nodded in approval, although Jake seemed a bit unsure, but didn't say anything.

"Michael, whenever you're ready, let's talk about what's on your mind today." the therapist said.

Jake cleared his throat. "You mentioned your father a lot the last few days."

Joseph?

I knew he and his father weren't close.

I could tell from my first encounter with Joseph, a couple months ago, that he was the exact opposite of my dad.

Joseph was cold, judgmental, demanding.

But Michael never talked about him with me. I guessed he didn't want me to know until now.

Michael shifted uncomfortably, tightening his grip on my hand.

He hesitated, then looked down. "Yeah... About how he used to push, how he still does sometimes. Like that stupid interview Angela and I had to do. I listened to him, and Angie and the babies got hurt."

My heart clenched at his words.

We've been through this, he knows I don't blame him.

Why does he keep blaming himself for something he couldn't control?

"Not to mention the God-awful idea he had about Angela signing a prenup." my fiancé mumbled.

"Prenup?" I blinked in surprise. "What prenup?"

"When we were staying at Hayvenhurst, he wanted me to ask you to sign a prenup. I told him we don't need one, that I trust you. And he got mad, so he kept pushing about the interview just to prove a point."

He let out a frustrated sigh, while both his legs bounced up and down.

"It- it was the same after my burns," he continued. "I thought I could finally catch a break, rest, heal... But Joseph made me go on tour with my brothers. Said it was good for everyone, and made me feel guilty when I tried to protest. I was still healing, in pain, and it felt like he didn't care, like nothing mattered except for the shows. I had to pretend everything was fine, that I was fine, even when I wasn't. It only pushed me deeper into... Into everything that came after."

His voice cracked, on the verge of tears, and I squeezed his hand again, wanting him to feel my support.

"And it scares me, especially because our babies will be here soon... I don't want my kids to feel like they have to hide their pain or push through it just to make me happy. Or that they will only feel love when I'm satisfied with what they do."

"Has your father always been like that?" the therapist asked, writing something down.

Michael nodded, "Ever since I can remember. I was conditioned to believe that my worth came from how well I performed. My children will never have to do that, earn my love. I'm gonna make sure they know they're perfect the way they are."

I blinked, the tears flooding my eyes. I never knew he had to deal with so much...

The therapist nodded, encouraging him to go on. "That's important, Michael. Recognizing the patterns from your childhood is the first step toward breaking them."

"But it's so hard," Michael confessed, his voice trembling. "There are days when the pressure feels overwhelming, like it's suffocating me. I wanna be a good husband and a good dad, I have to. But I keep hearing Joseph's voice in my head, telling me I'm not enough."

I wanted to say something, to reassure him he was enough.

But at the same time, I didn't want to speak out of place, or make him feel worse.

He was pouring his heart out, telling his most darkest secrets.

"Michael," I interjected, treading lightly. "You are enough. You do know that, right?"

His head nodded ever so slightly.

"I'm starting to. Thanks to you."

I brought my lips to kiss repeatedly behind his ear, hoping my small act of affection would show him how serious I was.

Jake cleared his throat again, louder this time.

"Angela, I wanna clarify something. This is a safe space for Michael. Your presence is valued, but it's crucial that we focus on his healing process without distractions. If you feel you can contribute to that, then stay. But it might be better if you step away for this."

For a moment, I was taken aback, not understanding where he was coming from.

"Sorry?" I pulled away from my fiancé slightly.

"Michael doesn't need distractions."

"And I'm a distraction?"

"That's not what I meant," Jake clarified, a bit too quickly. "I just wanna make sure Michael feels comfortable expressing himself fully."

"By implying my presence is distracting him?" I shot back.

Michael looked in between us, his eyes still red from unshed tears. "Angie's not a distraction. She makes it easier to talk about this stuff..."

Jake's expression softened slightly, "I understand that, but sometimes it helps to focus without outside influences. There's a reason these types of treatments are usually done at a center, away from... Personal connections. This is about your journey, Mike, and we need to create a space where you can explore those feelings freely."

My blood started to boil as I processed Jake's implications.

A wave of hurt washed over me, simmering just beneath the surface.

I knew these were probably my hormones acting up, making me even more upset with him.

It felt as if he was suggesting I was an obstacle in Michael's healing process, and that thought stung.

"Michael," I said quietly, pulling my hand away from his. "I think I'm gonna start on dinner."

I stood up, but he grabbed my hand. "Angie, wait-"

Jake cut him off, looking at me. "Angela, it's not that we don't appreciate you being here, but-"

"But you don't want me here," I retorted, crossing my arms. "Maybe you're right. I'm just a distraction. I'll leave you to it..."

"No, baby-" Michael started, but I shook my head, feeling the tears at the corners of my eyes.

"I'll be in the kitchen, Mike." I said and quickly left the study.

I really didn't want to cry in front of Jake, didn't want to show him how hurt I was.

I walked into the kitchen, angrily opening the fridge.

My blood boiled, thinking of how he basically kicked me out.

Who the hell does he think he is?

I rummaged through the fridge, taking out ingredients in hopes to distract myself.

The more I thought about it, the more infuriated I became. Jake's voice echoed in my mind over and over.

"It's crucial that we focus on his healing process without distractions."

Does he really believe I'm a distraction?!

It felt as if it was a personal attack, my presence in Michael's life being undervalued or unneeded.

My heart ached for him, and I wanted to be there.

But Jake's words made me feel small, like I was more of an obstacle in Michael's recovery.

I slammed the fridge door shut and leaned against it, breathing heavily.

I could hear Michael's voice muffled from the study, a mix of frustration and sadness in it.

He needs me. I know he does.

The tears slid down my cheeks, and I hurried to wipe them away.

I really didn't want to be emotional, I needed to be strong for him.

But I'm allowed to be hurt, too, right?

I shook my head, convincing myself to start dinner.

I started chopping vegetables, suddenly hearing Michael's familiar footsteps.

"Angie," he said, stepping into the kitchen. "I'm sorry about Jake..."

Sorry doesn't change anything.

I shook my head, trying to not show how hurt I actually was. "It's fine, Mike."

He wasn't convinced, and made his way over to me.

My back was still turned to him when he wrapped his arms around my waist.

"You're not a distraction. I want you in there." he stated.

I continued chopping, ignoring him. I didn't want to say anything, because he didn't need to hear it.

Of course, he was stubborn. His hands roamed the bottom of my bump, his lips softly grazing my neck.

His fingertips brushed against the waistband of my leggings in a way that made me pause.

That simple action stirred a familiar sensation deep inside me.

I let go of the knife in my hand and held onto the counter, taking in a deep breath.

"Angela, please..." he whispered. "Please look at me."

"Michael, just go back, okay? You need this, and I need to make dinner."

His hands paused over my bump, but he still held me close.

"I need you more."

Sighing, I gently removed his arms from around me, then turned to him. "I know. But your recovery is the most important thing right now. Jake's right."

I didn't even believe that last part, and I didn't expect him to, either.

His brown eyes filled with tears, "Please, Angie..."

I reached up gently to brush away the tears that streaked his high cheekbones, hoping to catch the pain that spilled out with them.

"Just go, okay? We'll talk later."

I turned away from him once again, hearing his soft sniffles.

I flinched though I didn't look, only continuing on with dinner.

Finally, he walked back towards his study, his feet somewhat dragging.

~

I lay in bed that night, alone and restless.

The empty pillow beside me seemed to mock my worries, a silent reminder of Michael's absence.

Outside the master bedroom, I could hear murmurs.

Michael's voice mingling with Jake's, low and persistent.

Their conversation went on, not helping the anxiety tightening in my chest.

I shifted onto my side, trying to block it out, but Jake's earlier words ate at me.

He thought I was a distraction, and worse, I was starting to believe him.

Michael and I were good today. Better than good.

He opened up in ways I knew were hard for him, and I thought I helped.

So why am I feeling like this? Maybe my being there really did more harm than good...

With each passing minute, my thoughts spiraled.

I tried listening in to the conversation outside, hoping to catch snippets of it.

But all I heard was a simple 'goodnight' from Jake, then the door opened.

Michael stepped in, the light from outside the room slightly showing his blushed face, expression unreadable.

"Hey." he said softly.

"Hey." I replied, trying to smile.

"Sorry for taking so long," he came to sit on his side of the bed. "Jake had a lot to say..."

"Oh, I bet." I mumbled. ubable to keep the distaste in my voice.

With a long sigh, he joined me under the covers, arms reaching out for me without hesitation. "I meant what I said earlier, Angie. I do need you."

"He doesn't seem to think so." I rolled my eyes.

My attempt to keep my emotions in check failed. He heard the doubt that hid within my words.

Michael brushed a strand of hair from my face. "Jake doesn't know me like you do. He doesn't understand what I need."

"But what if he's right?" I whispered. "What if I am a distraction? Maybe we went too far today."

"We didn't," he insisted. "I missed you like that, Angie. I missed your body, your soul, you. That beautiful connection we have... It's something no one else has ever given me. Jake doesn't see that, and honestly? That's his problem. I always need you. And today, I needed you just a bit more."

His words were so genuine, but the doubts still clouded my mind.

"You remind me what's really important. You, me, and our beautiful family. Okay?"

The babies kicked as their daddy stared into my eyes, searching for a reaction from me.

"Okay?" he pressed, placing a long, firm kiss on the corner of my mouth.

"Okay." I nodded.

He smiled, his lips brushing against mine before kissing them fully, his kiss deep, as if trying to pour every word he couldn't say into it.

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close, and I melted into him.

"I love you, Angela." he murmured and kissed my cheek, then my jaw, before finding my neck.

"I love you, too." I managed, slightly out of breath.

Hs kisses became sloppy, almost demanding. "You know what else, Angie?"

I let out a long sigh, "Mmhm?"

"I can't wait to marry you..."

I giggled when his hands explored under my pajama shirt.

"About that... Jake's not invited, right?" I didn't stop him when he sucked my skin, probably already leaving more hickies.

Michael paused, his gaze locking with mine as a grin spread across his face. "Oh, definitely not. We'll make sure he's very far away that day."

"Good."

His laughter mixed with mine, until his lips found my neck again, and I let myself get lost in him.

In that moment, everything that happened seemed insignificant.

Jake, the doubts, the pressure of everything that lay ahead.

Only our love was there, the future we were building together, the one he was fighting for.