"Hearts will break and people will hurt you, darling." Her mother said. "But when you let those people control your outlook on your life, you only allow them to have a greater hold on your happiness. Once you accept the fact that every day is a new day to begin again, life becomes a much easier path to walk."
― Courtney Giardina, Holding on to Georgia

"Daddy said you need to get over it."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Daddy says he can't move forward if you are always trying to break his neck looking backward."

Michonne considered what her young son was telling her. She considered voicing her thoughts out loud. Instead, she kept what was ready to spill forward from her lips to her son's ear, to herself.

Country ass motherfucker. If it weren't for me, he would still be in the front of a street corner liquor store, fist bumping.

If it weren't for Michonne believing in his potential and paying his way through college, pushing him to finish he would be just another statistic or a below Average Mike if she were telling the story.

She changed the subject.

"Andre, are you going to behave at school today? I can't keep going to your class to monitor what you are doing when I have a job to do."

"Keeping the bad guys behind bars." Andre smiled.

"And keeping the good guys from behind bars too. Don't you ever forget that, okay?" Michonne kissed his cheek.

"Okay, Mommy." He gave her a quick peck back.

"Where's your lunch box?"

"Right here." Andre lifted his hand that clutched the Power Rangers lunch box to show he had it.

"Where's your bookbag?"

Andre smiled and turned to show his mother that he had it strapped to his back.

"Good."

Michonne gave her son another once-over, making sure he was presentable in his school uniform. Checking the time on the large grandfather clock in the corner she knew the bus would soon arrive at the end of their driveway.

"Mom, where's my bracelet?" Abigail asked completely flustered.

Michonne knew where the bracelet was. She had spent five minutes trying to fight the desire to toss the gold charm bracelet in the trash while giving the impression she didn't have a clue to what happened to it. She thought better of that too.

The bracelet was from Andrea. Andrea was her former friend and now her kid's stepmother.

Andrea, the husband stealer, had purchased the expensive piece of jewelry and had given it to Abigail as a recent birthday present. This particular gift was still her daughter's favorite. Just looking at the bracelet on her daughter's wrist was like a tiny dagger that twisted in Michonne's gut. To have someone she had known for years, someone she considered a sister and trusted with her life become the very person that hurt her the most was painful. Unforgivable. Michonne could hold a grudge.

"Abigail, it is where you had left it. Now, I have told you, young lady, I am no longer going to clean up after you. I am not. You are eight years old now. You have to keep track of your own things. That is what your jewelry box is for. Remember the jewelry box your Dad had designed just for you, for your birthday?"

Michonne had one hand on her hip watching her daughter try to recall before retracing her steps to the moment the bracelet was unclasped. To speed up the process Michonne tipped her head toward the kitchen. The bracelet was on the kitchen table.

The sound of the school bus making its way to their home had her children eager to leave. She watched them run to the end of the driveway while she monitored from the open front door, holding her briefcase in one hand and waving with the other. She smiled genuinely at the bus driver who came to a halt. Michonne waited until her children boarded safely and were seated. It was customary for her daughter and son along with a few other children aboard the bus to wave from the window. A good chuckle, Michonne continued to wave back at the youngsters who were happy to be on their way to school. Closing the door and locking it, she grabbed her keys from the credenza and entered the garage where her white Mercedes was parked.

Two years since the divorce she was still bitter. Michonne had made slight improvements in dealing with the betrayal from her best friend and her husband, but it was hardly close to receiving a pat on the back. She still wanted to chop Mikes dick off and sever Andrea's head clean off her shoulders if she could get away with it. If it wasn't for her children, she knew she would have the capability to wreak havoc on the lovebirds. She dealt with criminals, and she also could sympathize with those who snapped. She had connections to the underworld. There were a few that owed her a favor.

She thought of hiring someone to slash tires and poison Andrea and Mike. She came to her senses when she plotted each act of revenge with a consistent detail to each event she could not ignore and it was getting caught. Yes, the ones that owed her a favor were all caught eventually or accused of this or that. If she were to take the matters in her own hands she would more than likely be caught red-handed with the dripping bloody knife in her hands.

Instantly her phone had connected to her car. She had a missed call.

Rick.

She couldn't help the smile that worked it's way across her lips. She felt light. Negative energy seemed to vanish, and butterflies fluttered in spaces that were no longer dark and void. Everything on the outside appeared more vibrant, and it felt great to have a distraction from the routine she developed with being a single parent.

"Call Rick," Michonne commanded her voice assistant while she drove in the direction of her office. After four rings she got his voicemail. She decided quickly against leaving a message. It wasn't that she didn't know what to say, well it was that, but it was also how it all made her feel breathless. She didn't want her nervous energy to come across in her voice.

Within seconds her phone rang. It was Rick. Michonne couldn't fight the smile on her face. She was feeling lighter and lighter. This was going on for over a month, the back and forth, long conversations in the night about their life. They have yet to go on a date or meet up. The rush she felt had her speechless.

"Hello?"

"Hi," Michonne said almost shyly.

"Hey. Sorry I missed your call. I was in the middle of a heated debate."

"Debates at this hour of the morning?"

"Yeah. The testosterone can get pretty crazy around here."

"Do you care to elaborate?"

"Nah. It would have to be experienced. Basically, you would have to have been here, present to get the gist. Anything else would take it out of context."

"Ah. The whole picture." Michonne had a brightly lit smile on her face.

"Yeah. How's your morning, so far?"

"Andre had his lunchbox and bookbag. The Power Ranger idea was great. Thanks."

"Yeah. You have to think like a boy his age. Do you want something plain or something cool?"

"Hey, don't you dare knock a plain black bookbag and a brown bag lunch." Michonne tried not to giggle.

Michonne loved that he wanted to lift her mood and that she could somehow do it for him. His voice had a charming southern drawl that he insists was her imagination.

He chuckled, "Now you shouldn't have any problem with him forgetting things."

"I will hold you to that."

"I would like for you to hold me to that. Whatever that is."

"Why do you do that?"

"'Cause that is fascinating?"

"Fascinating huh?"

"Yes. That the prospects of THAT could be endless in which you might want to HOLD me too."

"Why can't I get enough of this?" Michonne was really enjoying him and their crazy banter.

"Um, this? This has the same magnitude of endless possibilities since this and that has endless connotations." Rick had paused for a moment to give into laughter before continuing, "This seems to amuse you?"

"Yes. You've made my morning." There was a brief silence as they both had to clear their throats and Rick got himself back on track.

"You have said that your son is book smart. Everything else comes in time."

"Oh! So is that your disclaimer?" Michonne pounced.

"Yes," Rick laughed again. "I have a meeting in 10 minutes, and I have yet to make it to my office and boot up my computer. Can I call you tonight? Same time?"

"Yes. I would like that."

"Good."

"Tonight."

"Have a good day, Michonne."

"You too, Rick."

Once the call was over Michonne was honked twice for stopping at a green light. She stopped when she should GO and the idea of stopping when the traffic signal was clearly red never crossed her mind until she was almost T-Boned.

"Good Gawd! So glad that meeting is over with the janitorial contract for this office. Yes! You have my full attention now. Tell me everything. Every single detail."

Titus entered the office with his usual flamboyant energy. He waltzed over to the enormous fish aquarium where a single fish swam and sprinkled a tiny amount of food in the tank. Flipper the fish seemed to have survived a very long journey and was a symbol of good wealth and prosperity for such a long time.

Titus had worked for Michonne at the original firm as her number one paralegal. The legal team consisted of his new boss and Michonne's then-husband, Mike and the dear friend, Andrea plus 50 other lower level attorneys and 20 additional paralegals. It was Titus who had brought it to her attention that things were a little too chummy between the other two office heads. When the legal firm split, he was the one who did the full Dorothy Boyd character when Michonne wanted to know if anyone was willing to follow her out like the scene in Jerry Macguire. She was a drunk female Jerry.

"Well, don't worry. Don't worry. I'm not gonna to do what you all think I'm gonna to do, which is just FLIP OUT! But let me just let me just say, as I ease out of the office I helped build - I'm sorry, but it's a FACT! - that there is such a thing as manners, a way of treating people. I mean I shouldn't be the last to know that my husband and best friend were fucking each other behind my back which makes everyone complicit if aware of this fact. Well, now fully aware by my own admission."

Michonne notices the fish tank nearby as she continued, "These fish have manners. These fish have manners. In fact, they're coming with me. I'm starting a new company, and the fish will come with me. You can call me sentimental. The fish - they're coming with me." Aggressively she grabs a fire-tailed Peruvian beauty fish with a cup and dumps the fish inside a baggie. "Okay. If anybody else wants to come with me, this moment will be the moment of something real, and FUN, and inspiring in this god-forsaken business, and we will do it together. Who's comin' with me? Who's coming with me? Who's coming with me besides "Flipper," here?"

Titus couldn't hold back his excitement as he raised his hands as if he was the winner on Price is Right, "Girl, I will so go with you. These people don't even know who the real attorney is. They will learn."

"Okay, Flipper and Titus..."

xxxxxxx

"There is nothing to tell."

"Honey, I wasn't born an hour ago. Now spill the beans, potatoes, and gravy." Titus sat across from Michonne who had her elbows propped on her desk resting her head in the palm of her hands.

"I made a fool out of myself again," Michonne admitted. She didn't reveal that she had just called the man that wasn't answering her call when she dialed his number seconds before Titus had entered her office.

"You have been doing that a lot lately. Please tell me why?"

"I like him. Like, really like him. Like, I think I love him, kind of like."

"What kind of elementary hellish language are we using today?"

"My gut is telling me he is the one."

Titus cautioned, "We have discussed this gut thing before. Your gut can't be trusted. It is the reason you rely on mine."

Michonne was close to revealing that she had just called, THE ONE but suppressed it from being spoken. The only words that would come out were the ones she repeated constantly when alone, "I am a fool."

"Stop beating yourself up. He was your first since your divorce. He was your first and only swipe to the right. Dear Jehovah, I was a witness. Little did that white man know you two would actually meet and do the DO that was so good to you- he created a stalker."

"I am not a stalker, Titus. I am a woman who was in need of closure."

"He was going to call the police on you, Michonne."

"He said his neighborhood watch would, not him. He wanted me to leave before someone did call but I had run out of gas. My purse was at home and within a minute the phone died..."

"Do you know it would have been a legit arrest for trespassing? You had nothing on you to identify you and the only thing the officer can see upon arrival is black person parked out in a white man's driveway in the dead of night. A tragedy waiting to happen." Titus shook his head, he wore a grieved look upon his face.

"I had run out of gas. My phone died and I left my purse at home." Michonne reiterated.

"Well, the police would have given you one phone call if you didn't verbally resist your arrest. I certainly pity the officers who would have allowed you to survive such an arrest. Either way, knowing what I know, it would be my black ass down at the station to bail you out." Titus sighed. What he spoke would have been the truth if things went completely south on the night in question.

"He pulled up behind me 15 minutes later."

"Was he scared shitless?"

"Why would he be afraid?"

"He had every reason. You were caught stalking him."

"I wasn't stalking him, Titus. I was demanding answers."

"And dick wasn't one of them?"