The trial starts soon and anxiety is in the air. It can be felt in everyone from the cooks to the constant stream of lawyers in and out of the house.

Michael's family has been over a lot now too, which for me has made everything a little bit more complicated. They talk to me and ask me things expecting me to know the answer but half the time I don't know what to respond. He seems less agitated around me when they're around. I get to see slight smiles, hold his gaze momentarily and brush past him slowly. It's these moments that I've lived for recently, because somewhere deep in his dark eyes I have to believe that he does too.

Even his mother who I know he is close to commented on how withdrawn he has become.

"He hardly hears a word I say," my mother in law complains, tears staining her cheeks.

"He's like that with me too, Katherine."

In the evening, most family has gone home and Michael remains barricaded in his study, working the same excruciatingly long hours right along with his lawyers. The white haired man, I learned is his new lawyer along with an attractive and petite Asian woman, Geragos apparently being tossed aside which is quite unfortunate. I wonder what he did.

I'm up in my room, still anxious and fidgety. I see my cell phone quietly sitting on my night stand. I pick it up and dial Jared's number absentmindedly.

"Hey Christina," he answers cheerfully. "Did you need to go somewhere?"

"Hey Jared." I hear the clinking of dishes in the background as well as the mumble of a crowd. "Are you busy? I'm so sorry, I can call back."

"No! It's okay," he interrupted. "I just came to a restaurant for a bite to eat."

I feel even worse. "Oh, you're eating. Go ahead and eat. I didn't actually really need anything. Just called to say hi I guess. See what you were doing. I'll let you eat now," I ramble on.

"Really, Christina, it's okay. I thought you might need to go somewhere, but, if… you'd like, you're more than welcome to join me."

"I've already interrupted you enough," I hesitate.

"No, no interruption at all," he says cordially.

"Well, I guess I am going to need that ride then."

"Thanks for inviting me, I really needed some time away from that place," I admit, surprisingly at ease in a booth in the old fashioned Italian restaurant with its dim yellow lighting and stained glass ceiling lamps.

"Anytime," Jared responds lightheartedly, his eyes wide and his smile big. "So how've you been? I haven't driven you anywhere for a while. It was a few months ago when I last saw you, and you were crying your eyes out."

Ashamed I look down into my plate of chicken fettuccine alfredo. "Oh yeah."

It is one of the lowest points since I've been at Neverland, and it's been almost a year. It's hard to take so much rejection from someone you care about.

"Things are better I hope," Jared chimes.

"Actually things are about the same." His expression changes into one of surprise. "I don't know what to do anymore."

"What do you mean?"

I open my mouth to respond, feeling the urge to spill out everything I'm thinking but I stop myself. What if I can't trust him?

It seems like he sensed my uneasiness. "It's okay; you don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but you know you might feel better if you did." He reaches across the table and puts his hand over mine. "Just know that I'm here if you ever need to talk." He leans back again in the booth. "One person can't carry everything on their shoulders. Just know you can trust me, okay?"

Now my expression is one of surprise. I smile. "Thanks, Jared. I really appreciate it."

As his words sink in, I feel a tear run down my cheek. One person really can't carry everything on their own, can they? And something inside of me tells me I can trust Jared.

"He didn't used to be this way," I start, my gaze focusing on some unimportant object in the distance. "He was fun, and caring and loving. Neither of us really wanted what happened to us, at the time I don't think either of us realized it was happening, and when we let go, it was so beautiful, Jared. I can't even begin to tell you. It made you kind of wonder why it wasn't always that way from the beginning."

Jared's face was in his hands, his elbow propped up onto the table. "Wow, a true love story."

"It was so short lived though. Things that seem too good to be true usually are." Silence surrounds our table as I search for the words to continue my story.

"The allegations against him started. He changed the very day of the raid. He just shut down. It seems like behind his eyes he's just empty. A shell of what he was. It hurts so much to see him like that. He seems like he's so strong, but he's really not." Tears are flowing freely now, and I grab my fabric napkin from off my lap and brush the tears away. We are in a restaurant after all.

"People who look strong are usually the most sensitive," he points out.

"Exactly. And ever since then he's squeezed me out of his life, he won't let me be there for him. He either disappears and is never home or is locked up with his lawyers. It's been like this a year now! And it hurts not to be able to be there for him, and it hurts to be shoved aside like that. I don't get it, Jared. And on top of all that I feel so guilty for being so selfish!"

I throw my face in my hands giving up any attempt to hold it together. I hear Jared slide next to me on my booth and his surprisingly strong arms wrap around me.

"You're not being selfish, Christina."

"How can you say that Jared?" My voice shakes. "Just look at what he's going through!"

"Christina," he soothes. "And you're not going through anything?"

I don't know how to answer that. I look up at him.

"Can I give you an observation?"

I wipe my face again in my napkin. "What," I encourage.

"That day, you know, the last time I saw you, I don't know what he said to you to make you cry, but he looked tortured doing it."

"Tortured?"

"Look, I know it's none of my business, but I would think since he's going through some hard times he would want your support. Need it even. I don't know. But something's going on there. Something's not right."

My eyes pop open in understanding. "You're right!"

He smirks. "Of course I'm right."

He's right on target. I know what I have to do. I have to fight for my man.

Today is the first day of trial. Michael's looking sharp and surprisingly relaxed considering the circumstances. The entire family is here, all in white ready to stand by their sibling. I am dressed in white as well, which earns a few raised eyebrows from Michael. The family naively revealed to me their plans, not ever dreaming that I would be forbidden to go. I had asked him a few days ago if I would be going, and he abruptly answered, 'no.'

But he doesn't know the trick I have up my sleeve. I have Jared waiting for me down the road, and when he sees the parade of cars drive past, he'd rush and pick me up and I'd be waiting.

We did just that, and it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be to get past the barricade of police officers and media outside the courthouse. Fortunately I was recognized right away.

"I'll be here when you get back," Jared calls out after me.

Everyone wanted to stick around the house and talk, but there was court again in the morning so Michael gave everyone a place to stay. They would all return to court together tomorrow. He's so lucky that he has so many people that care about him; here and around the world.

There is a knock at my bedroom door, and as I open it, Michael barges in forcing the door open, and it slams against the wall. He then slams it shut.

"Christina," he says in a hushed but obviously angry tone. "Why did you go?"

"I wanted to be there for you, Michael. You never let me."

"Right. I told you not to come."

I throw my hands up in the air. "But why, Michael? Why?"

He doesn't answer me, and starts pacing. It looks like he's wants to say something, but doesn't.

"Just go away, Christina." He rushes out of my room, and I hear the door to his room slam shut.

I stand frozen. Did he just tell me to go away? Why would he want me to go away? What did I do? Tears stream out of my already swollen blue eyes. How could he say that to me? Why does he let everyone else in but not me? There are too many unanswered questions, and I'm tired of being avoided. I'm going in for some answers.

Good thing I know Michael's security code for his bedroom door and I slip right in. He is face down on his bed, his face as drenched with tears as mine is. That surprises me to see. He looks up when I close the door.

"I told you I'm not going away. I'm going to be here even if times are tough. Face it, Michael, you're stuck with me."

He gets up, wiping his tears off his face, his countenance suddenly stone. He walks toward me stopping only inches from me. If he's trying to intimidate me, it's not working. "Christina…"

"Michael, stop pushing me away," I demand.

He sighs heavily and rolls his eyes. "I'm not pushing you away."

"You are! I know it sounds selfish, but I can't help how I feel. Let me be there for you. Let yourself be loved!"

He backs up a bit. "I've lost everything, I might as well lose you too," he whispers almost inaudibly. But I heard it.

"What?"

He looks at me, his eyes determined again. "You're making this harder than it has to be."

"You may think you're invincible and you don't need anybody, but you're just like everyone else. All you are is meat and bone. If you don't take care of yourself…"

Another sigh. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"No, Michael, I'm not."

He swallows. "Christina, all we are is a business contract, that's all. There is no me and you. We are nothing."

"What?"

He backs up even further. "I don't want you around."

"What?" I croak. "What are you talking about? Then… what about Vegas? The time we spent there, the dancing, what you said to me, the night that we spent together?" Now I'm pacing his room. I find the bed and sit on it. "You said you wouldn't hurt me," I say softly, feeling defeated, my heart breaking.

I wait for him to respond, but he doesn't. He's staring at his shoes guiltily.

I get up and walk straight up to him, my face in his face. "Tell me it meant nothing to you," I demand.

He clears his throat, but doesn't meet my eye. "It meant nothing," he whispers. It was only because I was in his face that I heard him.

"MICHAEL, LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND TELL ME IT MEANT NOTHING TO YOU!"

His eyes are still glued on the floor, and a pained expression spreads across his face. I wait for what seems like an eternity. His words cause a hole to open in my heart. I turn around reluctantly to exit his room. The only thing I want in this moment is for him to call my name, to tell me not to leave, that he can't live without me like I can't live without him.

The silence shatters my soul.