A/N: Hello again! Here is another installment for you. We see major development between our lovelies in this one. We're picking up right where we left off. Thanks for the follows, faves and reviews! Seriously, they make my day! I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Be well friends!
Chapter 5: Parallels
"Hello, Chonne. Can I come in?"
The words echoed in her head as she glared inquisitively at Ed. What the hell is he doing here? she thought to herself. He stood there with an expectant look on his handsome, caramel face.
She instantaneously felt it…all the anger…all the pain…all the guilt she'd felt everyday she was in his presence. It made her feel physically ill, and she had to brace herself on Rick's shoulder to remain steady.
"Michonne," he repeated. "May I come in?"
"What are you doing here?" she responded, ignoring his request.
Ed narrowed his eyes on Rick, who returned his questionable gaze. "I came to talk to you about…well, everything. You wouldn't take my calls, so I decided to make the drive here."
Michonne inhaled sharply and reluctantly stepped aside so he could enter her home.
Rick looked at Michonne, noticing her uneasiness. He could see her tensing up at the sight of her visitor, who he assumed was her estranged husband.
"Hi, I'm Ed Jameson…Michonne's husband," he said, extending his hand to Rick.
Rick didn't accept it, nor did he respond. He simply glared at Ed, pondering his motivations for making the nearly four-hour trip from Atlanta to Tannon Falls.
Michonne's glare matched Rick's. She was pretty confident Ed had come to talk her out of getting a divorce. He had fought the process the entire way. He was always very persuasive, using his intelligence, charm, and good looks to manipulate people to bending toward his will. Michonne had fallen prey to it many times.
In the initial months after Kyle died, he really laid it on heavy. She acquiesced to his mental and physical intrusions into her mind and body, longing for anything to numb her pain…but she wasn't that woman any longer. Although, she hadn't completely rebuilt herself, she wasn't completely broken either.
"Soon to be ex-husband," she corrected him. "Rick, could you give us a minute?" she requested, offering him a plaintive smile.
Rick looked at her, contemplatively. "Are you sure?"
She nodded, "Yeah, I'll be fine."
He squeezed her shoulder and hesitantly walked out the door.
It had been all of five minutes since he left Michonne, yet Rick paced in his kitchen, wondering if he should have left her alone with her estranged husband. He walked to the window, trying to get a good view of them as they talked in her kitchen. He was grateful her curtains were open. He could see them having what looked to be an intense discussion.
'This is exactly the type of distraction you don't need.' He peered over his shoulder and saw Melanie, standing there in a white dress. Her stare was cold, almost angry. 'You can't fix her complicated life, Rick. You can't fix yourself. You can't even right what's wrong!' she yelled.
"You're wrong," he whispered in return. "I'm doing what I need to do. I'm taking care of things. Taylor won't be here much longer, then you can rest in peace, Mel."
He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the feeling of dread he experienced every time he communicated with his dead wife. He kept them shut as he struggled to ward her off. He may not need the complication, but he wanted to make sure Michonne was alright.
Michonne was planted in front of her kitchen window, her back turned away from Ed. She could see Rick watching her. His worried stare matched the pleading look in her eyes. She silently begged him to remain there, watching, and waiting in case she needed rescuing.
"Ed why haven't you signed the divorce papers?" she questioned, finally turning to face him.
He stepped closer to her and she backed away. "Chonne, I've had a lot of time to think since you left, and this isn't what I want. I want us to be together. I still love you. I need you in my life. You're all I have left of Kyle."
"I can't…I can't be with you, Ed. After everything that's happened, I can't believe you're asking me to stay in this marriage. It's not what I want. I left because I needed to heal and being with you hurts." Her words were shaky. She was completely unprepared to have this conversation. She was unprepared to have him show up on her doorstep.
Ed sighed, placing his hands on his hips. "Is that guy part of you healing? Who is he?"
She scoffed at his audacity to question her after what he'd put her through. "He is none of your business," she curtly replied.
"Are you fucking him?" he questioned, his voice full of contempt.
Michonne rolled her eyes and laughed, which seemed to make him angrier. "Are you serious? You are questioning me about sleeping with someone when you had a whole affair!"
"Michonne, if you're getting close to another man, how can we work on anything? We can't do that with someone else in the way. What I did was wrong. I know that…but I love you. I know we can fix this. Just give us another chance." He moved closer to her, grabbing her by the arm.
"No," she stated, shaking her head. "We're out of chances. I don't want to be with you anymore. I can barely look at you! Please sign the papers and let me go," she pleaded, moving out of his grasp.
He gazed at her through sorrowful eyes, knowing she meant it. She didn't belong to him anymore. "Chonne, I want you to know…it was never about you. What I did…it was all me. I felt like I wasn't enough for you. You always lived life so bold…everything had to be larger than life for you and I felt like I wasn't enough. I should have talked to you, but I couldn't. I'm sorry."
Michonne closed her eyes, silently imploring him to stop talking, to stop reopening the wound that she carried for over a year. "Ed, I need you to leave now."
"Michonne…" he interrupted.
"Please, just leave and don't come here again. I expect those papers in the mail soon."
Feeling defeated, he simply nodded and walked out the door.
Rick watched as Ed got in his car and drove away. He immediately went over to Michonne's to check on her. She opened the door and let him in, collapsing into his embrace.
"Are you okay?" he whispered, holding her tight in his arms.
She couldn't find the words to express her level of anguish. She held onto him and cried into his chest, the tears leaving tiny spots on his grey Henley.
Rick led her over to the sofa. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled her onto his lap. He gently stroked her back as she continued to sob.
"Shhh…it's okay. I got you," he reassured her.
Seeing her in pain stirred something in him…anger and sorrow. He hadn't felt those feelings for someone other than himself in so long. As much as he was trying to fight it, he cared about Michonne. He wanted to see her happy.
She cried in his arms for what seemed like forever, before finally pulling away to speak. Her voice shook as she attempted to unleash what she wanted to tell Rick before Ed interrupted them.
"Rick, I'm not only divorcing Ed because of his affair. I…we…lost our son over a year ago, and it irreparably broke us." She felt a sense of relief as the words spilled from her lips.
Rick felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He stared at her in disbelief. How could it be possible that they had both lost a child? How could she be feeling a pain that mirrored his own? He suspected there was more to Michonne's story than she previously revealed, but he was not expecting this.
"You lost a child?" he asked, just above a whisper.
"Yes, his name was Kyle. He was three years old when he died from a severe allergic reaction and I wasn't there when it happened. The day he died, I was supposed to pick him up from preschool, but I met with the PI instead. I was so worried about Ed's affair, that I wasn't there to keep my baby safe," she cried. "And ever since then, I've been struggling to go on. The only thing that's kept me going is knowing that my son would want me to be happy."
Rick grasped her face in his hands, kissing her forehead as he pulled her closer to him.
"Michonne, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I had no idea you were dealing with this."
"I wanted you to know, so you could understand. What happened earlier, with the water. It's not the first time strange things have happened. After Kyle died, I started blacking out, doing things I didn't remember doing. It hasn't happened in a while, but it's a likely explanation."
"Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry." He kissed her forehead again.
She wiped away a few stray tears. "Even now…I still see Kyle. I talk to him sometimes."
Rick stiffened at her revelation. "You talk to him?"
"Yeah, it helps me cope. I know it sounds crazy, but..."
"No," he interjected, shaking his head. "It doesn't sound crazy. I…I talk to Melanie sometimes. So, you're not crazy, Michonne…unless I'm crazy too," he chuckled.
She smiled at his joke, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "Maybe we are crazy, but I like being crazy with you," she said softly.
They stared at one another for a spell. It was becoming apparent to them both that they had more in common than just needing to get away from their respective towns. They were both walking wounded and desperately grasping for a lifeline.
Rick brought her face to his and kissed her, a kiss so tender and passionate that it made her weak in the knees. She ran her hands through his silky curls and inhaled his scent. He was so comforting to her, more than she could express to him with words. So, she simply lost herself in his kiss and the feel of his strong hands holding her tight.
After a moment, she pulled away and asked, "Will you stay the night with me?"
"Yeah," he nodded, kissing her once more.
The next morning, Michonne woke up feeling more at ease than she'd felt in a long time. The feeling of Rick's body against hers had lulled her into a deep sleep.
She tried to slide from his grasp, wanting to let him sleep a little longer but it was too late. He stirred as soon as he felt her moving.
"Good morning," he smiled, his voice gravelly with sleep.
"Hi," she replied, turning her body to face his.
"How'd you sleep?" he asked, rubbing his fingers down her bare arm.
She closed her eyes at the sensation. "Better than I've slept in quite some time," she smiled.
"Good, I'm glad," he returned.
They remained silent, appreciating the peacefulness of the moment. She smiled at the sight of his tousled curls and ran her fingers through them, softly massaging his scalp. He relished in the feeling.
"Thanks for staying with me. I couldn't be alone last night."
He pulled her closer. "You don't need to thank me. I'm just glad you're feeling better. Are you going to be okay by yourself today?"
"Yeah, I'm actually heading to the church. I'm teaching a class today. Do you have time for breakfast before you leave?" she asked, not quite ready for him to leave.
"Ugh, I wish I did. I've got to go into the shop early today. How about dinner tonight? I can cook for you…return the favor."
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You cook?"
"Don't act so shocked. I know my way around the kitchen. It doesn't seem worthwhile to cook for only myself, so I usually don't," he shrugged.
She smiled sweetly and offered him a chaste kiss. "It's a date."
Rick turned the dial on the bathtub and felt the water temperature to make sure it was just right. He removed his shirt and caught a whiff of Michonne's scent. She smelled of coconut and vanilla. He held it close and inhaled again.
He thought about last night, how he held her in his arms as she slept. He'd be lying to himself if he said he hadn't thought about doing more than sleeping, but Michonne was so fragile. Ed's unwelcome visit put her in a melancholy mood, and he was just happy to give her some peace.
His thoughts were interrupted by his phone buzzing in his jeans. He looked at the screen. It was his brother. Normally, he would let it go to voicemail, but he was feeling different today.
"Hey, Shane…what can I do for you?"
"Hello to you too big brother," Shane retorted. "I'm glad you picked up this time. I've been calling you all week."
Rick pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping he wouldn't regret answering the call.
"Shane, what do you want to talk about? I was just about to get ready for work."
"Work? Where are you working? Where are you?"
"I'm safe okay. That's all I'm willing to tell you right now. Look, I know I shouldn't have left the way I did. It wasn't fair to you and daddy, but I just needed to get away. Taylor getting out…it kind of messed me up and I just need some time to deal with things," Rick sighed.
"I figured as much. Rick, I don't pretend to know what you're going through, but I just need to know that you're alright. Daddy's worried about you and so am I. I need to know that you're not doing what I think you're doing."
Rick knew Shane had reason for concern. After Kaley died, he lost his way. It was difficult for him to control his anger and it nearly cost him his job. He'd been accused of using excessive force on more than one occasion. After the third time, he was told in no uncertain terms that his position with the King County Sheriff's Department was in jeopardy. He was ordered to see a psychiatrist and get a handle on his troubles.
"I'm not. I don't even know where he is," Rick lied. "I'm just taking some time to catch my breath. That's all. Tell daddy I'll call him soon."
"How about you do one better and come home for Thanksgiving. Andrea's cooking a big meal. She's invited all her family over. You know how they get on my nerves. I sure could use my big brother's company," Shane implored.
Rick could hear the desperation in his brother's voice. He hated lying to him. He hated disappointing his family, but he had come to Tannon Falls to right a wrong and no amount of pleading from Shane was going to change that…and he knew he couldn't go back, not now…maybe not ever.
"I can't Shane. I'm not ready to be around a bunch of people right now."
"So, you're just gonna stay wherever the hell you are, alone? Come on, Rick. That ain't healthy. I know that shrink told you that."
"The shrink was useless. It was a waste of time seeing her. I'm alright, really, I am. I'm also not alone. I met this amazing woman. I mean, it's new, but I like her." Rick hoped his confession would put Shane's mind at ease.
"Oh really? Well, bring her along. I'd love to meet her," Shane returned.
Rick gave up. His brother was relentless, a trait he never found problematic until now. He needed to end the call.
"I'll think about it. I gotta go. I'll call you…I promise." He quickly disconnected before Shane could protest.
He finished undressing and got in the shower, letting the warm water wash away his frustration.
Seven nights. That's exactly how many nights they had spent together. Each of them spent chipping away at the wall that once was a barrier inhibiting their inevitable connection.
It started with the night Rick made dinner. He offered for her to stay, worried that she would be afraid to spend the night alone after the water incident. She was okay with chalking it up to another moment of losing time. However, Rick was unconvinced. He thought it best to remain vigilant in case it was something else…something more sinister.
The time they spent at night was peaceful, even cathartic. They talked, but mostly they would lie in bed enjoying one another's presence. Rick would read. Michonne came to learn that he was fascinated with historical novels. Sometimes, he would read quietly to himself, other times he would read aloud to her.
She spent the nights sketching. She sketched the old, gothic church which sat in the center of Tannon Falls. She sketched nature scenes with butterflies and doves, but she had spent the last two nights sketching Rick. She'd watched him as he read and it was as if her pencil had a mind of its own, forming his handsome profile on the page in front of her.
Other times, they would unwind from the day by listening to music and having a nightcap. Currently, they sat on the sofa in her living room, sipping wine and listening to the soulful voice of Leon Bridges…
Been traveling these wide roads for so long
My heart's been far from you
Ten-thousand miles gone
Oh, I wanna come near and give ya
Every part of me
But there's blood on my hands
And my lips are unclean
"Come here," Michonne instructed, gesturing for him to sit on the floor in front of her.
He complied and slid down on the floor between her legs. He tried to remain calm, as her silky skin enveloped him. She was wearing a satin pajama short set, and it was all he could do to keep his hands in his lap and not run them along her smooth legs.
"Hard day at work?" she asked as she started massaging his shoulders.
"Yeah," he answered, relaxing into her touch. "One of the guys called in sick and Glenn asked me to stay later."
"This will work better if you take off your shirt," she suggested. He turned and smirked at her.
"I'm serious, Rick. Take it off so I can help you relax," she smiled.
He did as she suggested and quickly removed his shirt. She sucked in a breath, admiring his physique. She began working her fingers over his broad shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles melt away. He exhaled and let his head fall forward.
"That feel good?" she questioned.
"It feels amazing," he replied breathlessly.
"Good. So, how are things with Daryl? Have you had any more trouble with him?"
"Nah, he's been keeping to himself. He was pretty pissed after what happened with his brother, but I think he's let it go."
"Hmm, I'm glad to hear that. Like I said, I didn't want to cause any trouble for you."
He glanced over his shoulder, "You didn't. That redneck piece of shit had no business speaking to you the way he did, let alone putting his filthy hands on you. I let him off easy."
She was so turned on by his protectiveness. She found his rough exterior to be incredibly sexy.
"I know. I'm grateful you were there. That guy seems like a real dirtbag."
"Yeah, he is. On top of what he did to you, he's also dealing drugs. I saw him making an exchange that night at the bar."
She halted her ministrations. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah, I caught him red-handed coming out of the restroom," he replied.
"Rick, did he see you?" she asked, concern lacing her voice.
"He did, but it doesn't matter."
"Just be careful, okay. Guys like him can be dangerous when backed into a corner."
"I'm familiar with guys like him, Michonne. I know how to handle them. Don't worry your pretty little head about it," he assured her, kissing her calf.
She closed her eyes at the feel of his soft lips on her skin. She felt that familiar feeling in her core, and bit her bottom lip trying to stave it off. She took another sip of her wine before continuing with her massage, while they sat quietly listening to the music…
Tip me in your smooth waters
I go in
As a man with many crimes
Come up for air
As my sins flow down the Jordan
Oh, I wanna come near and give ya
Every part of me
But there's blood on my hands
And my lips aren't clean
Take me to your river
I wanna go
Rick lost himself in his thoughts as he listened to the song. He related to the lyrics of a troubled man, longing for salvation…for redemption, but not feeling worthy. He felt himself battling with his need for revenge and his need to heal and recover from the tragedy of his life.
He closed his eyes and rested his head on Michonne's lap. Something about this woman made him want to be better. He wanted to share in her hope of having a better life. She had lost a child, the same as him, she suffered, she lost her way, but she didn't let it take her to the point of no return. He envied her. He wondered if he would ever have her strength.
"You ready to head to bed?"
Michonne's sultry voice broke through his thoughts.
"Yeah, I'm beat."
They lay on top of the plush comforter, at opposite ends of the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as it cooled the room. Michonne ran the heat due the cool November temperatures, which resulted in the bedroom becoming stuffy at night. The ceiling fan helped to make it more comfortable.
"Are you close with your family, Rick?" Michonne asked quietly.
"I used to be. It's been just me, my brother and my dad for a while now. My mom died 10 years ago."
"I'm sorry. What was she like?" she asked, shifting on her side so she could look at him.
"She was a sweet southern woman," he grinned. "She doted on her family and went to church three times a week."
Michonne laughed, picturing a woman who shared Rick's features wearing her Sunday's best, complete with a wide-rimmed church hat.
"Her name was Eleanore. Her and my dad Richard were high school sweethearts. They married young and soon after had me and my brother. I grew up in a traditional home. My daddy worked while she stayed home. We went to church and celebrated holidays with family and friends. I played baseball in middle school and high school, went to college, and started at the sheriff's department. I guess my life was pretty boring when I think about it…certainly nothing like yours. I've never even left the country."
Michonne propped herself up on her elbow. "Before I graduated from college, my life wasn't that exciting either. I grew up an only child. My mom's name is Anna. She's a nurse, and my dad was an engineer. He passed away when I was 10.
It hurt him to hear how much she had been through. "I'm sorry, that must have been hard on you being so young."
"Yeah, I was a daddy's girl, so it hit me pretty hard. My mom did her best to help me get through it, while also grieving herself. Anyway, we started going to church on occasion, but certainly not multiple times a week," she chuckled. "Mom was looking for anything to help us heal." She got quiet for a moment. "When my son died, she suggested I go on a spiritual retreat with this self-help group. I ended up staying in a tent in the mountains near Denver."
Rick raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really, did it help?"
She smiled and nodded, reflecting on her time there. "A little. It allowed me to slow down and take a breath. I focused on my art while I was there. Creating things has always brought a sense of calm to me. I've always been drawn to it."
"You're very talented, Michonne," he said rubbing his hand along her bare legs. Her skin felt like silk under his fingertips.
Her breath hitched at the feeling, silently begging him to go up further.
Rick seemed to read her mind, as he dragged his fingers higher, eventually reaching the hem of her satin shorts.
"Rick…" she breathed.
He slowly adjusted to sit on his knees and gently spread her legs before him. He kept his eyes on hers as he leisurely slid the shorts and her panties down her legs, removing them completely. He bit his lip as his eyes fell to her bare flower, glistening and begging to be tasted.
Michonne watched him in anticipation as he lowered himself to her center. Her eyes rolled shut at the feeling of his warm tongue tenderly running along her slit. "Rick…" she sighed.
He was in a trance, eager to please her and hear her say his name like that again. He continued to lick and suck on her folds, enjoying the slight sweet taste of her nectar. Sucking on her bud, he gently inserted his index and middle finger, moving them in tandem with her writhing hips.
"Oooh…mmm" she panted breathlessly. She wanted to grab his head and hold him there, but she refrained. Instead she let her head sink into her pillow and gripped the sheets around her.
Removing his fingers, Rick yanked her closer to his face and propped her legs on his shoulders. He rotated his tongue around her opening, before plunging it inside of her. The sensation of his tongue fucking her and his rough hands gripping her thighs was bringing her closer to the edge. She gripped the sheets tighter and urgently rocked against his face, chasing her release. He steadied her with his hands and continued to devour her, moaning softly.
"Rick…oh god," she breathed heavily.
"Let go," he whispered.
Before she knew it, she was coming undone, her juices exploding into his mouth. He didn't let up, slurping up every sweet drop.
She hadn't had an orgasm in nearly two years, so she couldn't be entirely sure, but she felt like this was the first time she had ever experienced true bliss. The feeling started at her core and ran down to her toes and back up again. She released a high-pitched moan, more like a wail as the feeling washed over her…and still, Rick didn't stop until he was certain she was thoroughly satisfied.
He slowly removed her legs off his shoulders and slid his body next to hers. He licked his lips as he gazed at her beautiful face. Her eyes were still closed, but a sated grin was present.
They said nothing, neither having the words to articulate the feeling of exultation the moment had given them. Instead of speaking, they relaxed into each other's embrace and drifted into slumber.
No matter how much she tried to hide it, Michonne could not wipe the smile from her face. It remained there throughout the night, stretching into the morning as she awoke to find Rick's handsome face staring back at her as they lay in bed. It was fixated as she kissed him goodbye after eating breakfast together. Now, as she sat in the teacher's lounge eating lunch, it was apparent that it could become a permanent companion if she continued to explore this thing with Rick.
Her phone chimed and she beamed seeing his name on the screen. She opened the text and read… I can't stop thinking about you. I can still taste you on my lips. She blushed thinking about what occurred the previous night.
Maggie walked in and stopped in her tracks when she saw the look of delight on Michonne's face. "My, my…what's got you grinning like a giddy schoolgirl?" she asked. "Or should I ask who?"
"Maggie Greene, whatever do you mean? I'm just enjoying this beautiful day," Michonne quipped, before quickly typing a reply to Rick…Me too.Can't wait to see you later.
"Sure," Maggie smirked, sitting across from Michonne. "Don't worry, I won't press you for any details, but I'm guessing you and your handsome neighbor are moving out of the friend zone."
Michonne rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance. "We're making progress. In fact, I'm thinking about inviting him over for Thanksgiving. My mom is going away with some girlfriends, so I'll be here." In truth, she still didn't feel strong enough to go back to Atlanta. "I was hoping you would come as well, if you're not going back home," she said to Maggie.
"I would love that," Maggie smiled. "I wasn't planning on going home, since I'm going for Christmas. It would be nice to have company. I'll see if Glenn can come if that's alright?"
"Yeah, of course. Speaking of, how are things progressing between you two?" Michonne queried.
It was Maggie's turn to blush. "He's very sweet. I like him."
"That's good. Rick seems really fond of him, too. This should be nice," Michonne smiled.
Thanksgiving had arrived and Michonne nervously fumbled with her long locs, pulling them up into an elegant bun. She was a bit jittery, hoping the day would go smooth. She was expecting Maggie and Glenn within an hour, but she knew Rick would be over at any moment. It felt a little strange, having a holiday meal with people she hadn't known a few months ago. It would be much different than what she was used to, being in Atlanta. Her and Ed would usually host their family and friends. There would be a huge spread with all the traditional fixings. Kyle loved to see his granny, aunts, uncles, and cousins from Ed's side of the family. She would be lying to herself if she said she didn't miss it.
Nevertheless, she was determined to make this night enjoyable. She also wanted to make it special for Rick. Over the past couple of days, she could see he was slipping back into his despondent mood. She suspected it was for similar reasons that caused her to feel depressed this time of the year.
She heard a knock at the door and knew it was Rick. She checked herself in the mirror one last time and headed to the door to let him in. She couldn't hide her obvious approval at the sight of him. He cleaned up nice, wearing navy slacks paired with a cream and navy sweater. The colors made his crystal blue eyes pop. His curls were combed away from his face, which made them appear wavier and his beard was neatly trimmed. She smiled bashfully as she took him in. She didn't know he owned anything other than jeans, t-shirts, Henleys and a few button-downs. Not that she had complaints about his usual attire, this was just new.
"Can I come in?" He finally asked, still standing in the doorway. "It's chilly out and I left my coat at home."
She finally snapped out of it. "Yes, I'm sorry…come in. You look really handsome," she said, closing the door behind him.
"Thank you. You look gorgeous," he said, kissing her on the cheek. He inhaled her sweet perfume in the process. It was a different scent than her usual. This one was more flowery but just as intoxicating. He handed her the bottle of wine he was holding and observed her as she went to put it away, his eyes intensely watching the sway of her hips in the berry colored sweater dress she wore. It hugged her body beautifully, showing off the most perfect ass he had ever seen.
She turned to see him smirking at her, his eyes filled with desire.
"What?" she asked innocently.
He didn't respond, instead letting his hands and lips do the talking as he pinned her against the counter, squeezing her ass and trailing tender kisses down her throat. She released a breathy moan as his hot tongue ran across her collarbone, setting her on fire.
This had become the norm for them, using their mouths and hands to explore each other's bodies. However, they had yet to go any further, both afraid that once that line was crossed, there would be no turning back. It wouldn't be just sex; it would mean allowing the other in completely. What was left of the wall between them would be shattered. The notion frightened them, albeit for different reasons.
"Do you know how beautiful you are?" he whispered, gently kissing her lips.
"So, you've said," she quipped, nipping at his bottom lip.
"I mean it, you're perfect." He looked at her attentively, hoping to convey the sincerity in his words.
She shook her head, "No…I'm not perfect. I'm far from it."
There was sorrow in her eyes, and he knew she was struggling inside, thinking about Kyle. He wanted to assure her that it wasn't her fault that her son died but, how could he? He was grappling with the same guilt.
Before either of them could speak, the doorbell rang. Rick gave her one more kiss before she broke from his embrace to greet her guests.
Michonne, Rick, Maggie, and Glenn convened around the dining room table ready to dive into their feast. Michonne had done most of the cooking, sticking to the traditional turkey and dressing, cranberry sauce, greens, baked macaroni and cheese and candied yams. Maggie brought sweet potato and apple pie for dessert. Glenn also chipped in by bringing a bottle of perfectly aged scotch to accompany the wine Rick provided.
"Shall we pray before we eat?" Maggie asked. "We always pray at my daddy's house."
The others looked at each other pensively. "Sure…of course," Michonne chimed in. "Maggie, you do the honors."
They joined hands and bowed their heads while Maggie blessed the food.
"Sorry, if that made y'all uncomfortable. I just thought we should give thanks," she stated.
"No, it's fine. You're right, it's good to be grateful for what you have," Michonne replied, glancing over at Rick. He smiled in return. "Okay, is everyone ready to dig in?"
"Yeah, it smells and looks delicious, Michonne," Glenn proclaimed.
"It sure does," Rick added, discreetly caressing Michonne's thigh under the table.
She smiled at him before starting to plate the food.
An hour later and they were sitting around Michonne's living room enjoying a drink and watching football. The conversation had remained light and both Rick and Michonne were appreciative, neither wanting to talk about anything too personal. On the contrary, they talked about sports, movies, and music. Michonne was particularly into the game, which made Rick chuckle.
"I wouldn't have taken you for such a hardcore sports fan," he whispered, leaning closer to her on the sofa.
"There's still a few things you don't know about me, Rick Grimes," she teased.
"Is that so?" he smirked, squeezing her thigh.
Glenn and Maggie watched in amusement, getting cozy on the opposite sofa.
"How's it going with your art classes at the church, Michonne?" Maggie inquired out of the blue.
"Um, it's going great. The kids are really talented. We've spent the past couple of weeks preparing for their holiday showcase. You should come check it out. All of you should. They'll be selling their art to raise money for a community program," she beamed.
Rick loved how passionate she was about art and helping others. Her face lit up when she talked about her work with the kids at the church.
"That sounds wonderful," Maggie returned. "I'd love to come."
"Me, too" Glenn added. "Anything for a good cause."
"What about you?" Michonne asked Rick. "I'd love for you to be there."
"Yeah…I'll come," he said, gently rubbing her back.
Michonne was pleasantly surprised he agreed so willingly, especially given his response to her suggestion that he come speak to the kids a few weeks ago.
"Thank you," she whispered sweetly. She heard her phone ringing and went to retrieve it off the kitchen counter.
Rick followed her, seizing the opportunity to get her alone. He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he kissed the top of her head while she answered the call.
"Hey, Happy Thanksgiving," she exclaimed. "Yeah, my day is going great so far, what about yours?" she asked the caller, who Rick assumed was her mother. "Good, I'm glad you've been able to enjoy it. I know you've been a little down lately."
She paused listening to the person on the other end, while Rick planted gentle kisses to the side of her face. She smiled and turned her face to kiss his lips. She squealed when he ran his wet tongue down the back of her neck, tracing the tiny stars there. She gently swatted his arm, silently begging him to let her focus on the call.
"Ok, yes. We're making good progress. Things will be perfect for the show," she continued. "Ok, thanks for calling. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Tim."
Rick immediately tensed at the mention of the name, so much that he was gripping her tighter. It can't be…can it? He thought to himself. It wasn't like the name was uncommon, but he had an uneasy feeling for just a second.
"Rick," she called, bringing him back to the moment. "Ease up." She removed his hands from around her waist and turned to face him.
"What's wrong?" she asked, noticing the change in his demeanor.
"Nothing…um, who was that on the phone?" he asked, trying to keep his tone even.
"Oh, just my friend from the church," she answered casually. She kissed him one more time before leading him back to the living room.
Rick decided to let the matter go, not wanting to entertain the idea that the person she had been working with all this time was the same person who had ruined his life. What were the odds? After all he'd been through, he couldn't stomach the idea that the world would be that sadistic.
A couple of hours later, Glenn and Maggie said their goodbyes. Rick and Michonne, put away all the food and cleaned the dishes, stealing kisses and caresses along the way.
"Thank you for coming tonight," she said, kissing him once more as they stood at the kitchen counter.
"Thanks for having me. I had a good time."
"Do you want to spend the night?" she asked hopefully.
"Yeah," he whispered, stroking her cheek.
She took his hand and led him to the bedroom. They paused at the foot of the bed, gazing into each other's eyes.
"I'm proud of you, Michonne," Rick proffered, wrapping her in his arms. "I know today wasn't easy. It wasn't easy for me either, even after all these years that Melanie's been gone. Holidays are still tough to get through."
She sighed, lying her head on his chest, and inhaling the refreshing scent of his body wash, smelling like citrus. It was soothing to her.
"Having you here made it easier," she confessed.
He lifted her chin, so she was facing him, then planted a sensual kiss to her welcoming lips. It started off slow, but soon grew feverish, as if he were trying to consume her.
She melted into the kiss, enjoying the taste of liquor on his tongue as it danced with hers. Instinctively, her fingers found their way into his silky curls and he moaned at the sensation of her massaging his scalp.
Feeling ignited by each other's touch, they urgently began undressing. Rick lifted her dress off her body, while she did the same with his sweater. He trailed wet kisses down her throat and across her collarbone as he unhooked her bra, letting her supple breasts spill out, her pebbled nipples rubbing against his toned chest.
Michonne let out a pleasurable moan at the feel of his lips on her skin. Excitement was building in her core. Wanting to feel more of him, she undid his belt and zipper, slowly sliding her slender fingers into his black boxer briefs. When she grasped his hard dick, he released a breathy moan. She began stroking him up and down, causing an involuntary jerk of his hips as she worked him.
"Michonne," he breathed, bringing his lips back to hers. He grabbed her ass and she moaned into his mouth. "I want to make love to you," he whispered.
He removed her teasing hand, and gently pushed her on the bed. She scooted up to the pillows and rested on her elbows, watching him attentively as he removed the rest of his clothing. She bit her lip at the sight of his throbbing member, appreciating his length and girth.
He crawled on top of the bed, resting on his knees in front of her. Neither of them said anything, the time for speaking had passed. The only thing that remained was pure, unadulterated desire, evident as they held one another's gaze, warm brown eyes boring into steely blue.
Rick eased her lace panties down her creamy legs and discarded them on the nearby chaise. He planted tender kisses along her body, starting with her thighs, and making his way up to her abdomen, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her arousal in the process. Running his tongue along her belly piercing, he coaxed a bashful giggle from her. Over the past few weeks, he had become familiar with her body, making a mental note of all the places which tickled her and all the places which made her moan and whisper his name.
"Wait…wait," she pleaded, tugging at his hair to get his attention. He halted his attentions as she reached over and grabbed a condom from the nightstand drawer. He raised his eyebrows as she handed him the gold foil package. "I picked up a box…just in case," she said shyly.
He took it, ripping it open with his teeth. She watched as he lifted up on his knees and rolled it onto his dick. Suddenly she felt nervous. They'd been intimate several times, but they were crossing into new territory. Earlier in the evening, she was still grappling with the decision, but in this moment, staring into his captivating cerulean eyes and appreciating his lean, muscular physique, the decision became easy. They were doing this and it terrified and excited her all at once.
She let her legs fall open as Rick positioned himself on top of her, drawing her in for a fiery kiss. She ran her fingers along his back, sending a tingling sensation up his spine.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "So are you," she smiled.
He lined himself up at her entrance and gently slid past her slick folds. They both let out a delicious moan at the sensation.
"God," she sighed, trying to acclimate to the way he filled her up. It felt so good, she wanted to cry. When he began to move inside of her, she bit her lip to stop from screaming.
"Mmm, you feel so good," Rick moaned, peppering her face with kisses. He was already addicted to her, having tasted her on multiple occasions and felt her warm mouth wrapped around his cock, but the exquisite feeling of her tight pussy gripping him, just might be the death of him.
He picked up his pace a bit, enjoying the way her nectar was coating his dick. "Fuck…" he panted, supporting himself on his elbows so he could stare into her face. Her eyes were shut tight, her face twisting in pleasure. "Look at me," he pleaded.
She did as he asked, wrapping her legs tight around his waist and allowing him to sink deeper. "Don't stop," was all she could get out, the drag of his stroke was indescribable. She impatiently rocked against him, urging him to fuck her faster.
He hiked her right leg over his shoulder and tantalizingly rotated his hips, causing Michonne's mouth to fall open in sheer ecstasy. "Oooh…fuck," she moaned, lifting to meet his thrusts. Rick closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. "Shit…" he mumbled, pounding into her with fervor.
Michonne held the bedsheets so tight, she nearly broke a few of her manicured nails. On so many occasions, she wondered what it would be like to be with Rick, but the reality had far surpassed anything she could have imagined. The feel of him, the scent of him, the unabashed way he was handling her body…it was euphoric. With each delicious stroke, she felt her wall crumbling down.
"Turn around," he huffed, releasing her leg from his shoulder. She complied and lifted herself on all fours, her face buried in the pillows, while her ample backside stared back at him. He traced his fingertips along her spine, sending jolts of electricity through her. When he entered her again, she let out a loud gasp.
He gripped her waist and thrusted into her slowly, hypnotized by the way her glistening pussy swallowed him, licking his lips at the sight. He had never been with a woman like Michonne. She was driving him crazy. She is so fucking sexy, he thought to himself, drilling into her faster.
She backed her ass onto his dick, losing herself at the way he was making her feel. "Oh, fuck…" he groaned, digging his fingers into her flesh. "Aaah…Rick," she cried, grabbing the headboard to keep from toppling over as he relentlessly pounded into her.
He leaned his body over her, causing her to fall into the pillows. "Yeah," he moaned, kissing the back of her neck. Her legs felt like jelly. She straightened underneath him, while he rested his body on top of hers. He extended his arms to hold himself up as he frantically fucked her into the mattress.
Michonne was barely hanging on, feeling the signs of her impending release. "God…Rick…mmm," she gasped. He sat up on his knees, gripping her waist as he hammered into her backside, loving the way it jiggled against him.
Their bodies were slick with sweat, the scent of their coupling faintly hovered in the air. Michonne's hair was coming undone from her bun and he smiled at how beautiful she looked. The experience was exhilarating.
Rick snaked his hand to her clit and rubbed his thumb against it. It was as if the floodgates had been released. She gifted him with a chorus of satisfied moans, as her juices drenched his cock, writhing against him uncontrollably as her release overtook her. He didn't let up, pummeling her with his dick until she cried out his name.
He thrusted into her a few more times before his body tensed and convulsed on top of her. Gripping her tight, he spilled his seed into the thin barrier between them. "Ughh…fuck…Mich…," he called out, her name getting caught in his throat as his orgasm washed over him. He'd never came so hard in his life. It was transcendent.
After a moment, he pulled out of her and collapsed on his back, panting heavily. He discreetly discarded the condom in the trashcan on the side of the bed.
Michonne did not possess the strength to move, so she simply laid on her stomach, her face still buried in her pillow. "Oh my god," she murmured.
Rick turned on his side to face her and gave her a few kisses between her shoulder blades. "That good?" he joked.
"Amazing," she shot back.
He loved the way her body glistened in the pale lamplight. He ran his fingers across the series of colorful butterflies that adorned her back, then placed a tender kiss on the one closest to her voluptuous derriere. "These are beautiful. Why butterflies?" he queried.
She finally turned her head to look at him. "Butterflies are special to me. They're a symbol of the spirit and transition. Some people believe when your body dies, your soul is transferred into a butterfly."
He listened attentively, rubbing his fingers along her arm.
"Whenever I see one…I think of my baby boy," she added. "It gives me a sense of peace, like he's still with me."
Rick pulled her into his arms and softly kissed her forehead. Inside, he was battling with himself. He wanted to tell her about Kaley, but he couldn't get the words out. He appreciated her openness with him, her willingness to share the most painful experience of her life, but he wasn't ready to do the same.
"He'll always be with you," he whispered softly, kissing her lips. "He'll never be too far away."
Rick was awakened by the whimpering sound. At first it sounded distant but was gradually getting closer…louder. He turned to see Melanie still fast asleep, adjacent to him. Her body was turned away from him, but he could see the rise and fall from her heavy breathing.
He reached out to her, "Mel…Mel, wake up." He slowly turned her over, and gasped. Her body was cold, her face ashen. He looked into her fixated pupils; the color had drained from her irises. He leapt from the bed, shaking his head in despair.
"Mel…no, no," he wept. The whimpering was right outside the bedroom door now. He rushed to open it, falling to the floor at the sight of Kaley on the other side, drenched in blood.
"Daddy…help me," she wailed. He tried to grab her hand, but it crumbled beneath his touch. "Kaley…Kaley!" he screamed.
"No…wait…come back," Rick mumbled in his sleep.
Michonne peered at him, gently touching his shoulder to rouse him. "Rick…Rick wake up."
"Huh, what…" he groaned, waking from his sleep. For a moment he was confused as to where he was. He turned to see Michonne staring back at him, worry lacing her face.
She took in his disheveled look and the sweat gathering on his forehead. "You were having a nightmare," she said softly.
He sighed and rested his head on the pillow. "Shit, I'm sorry to wake you."
"It's okay," she replied, squeezing his arm. "Do you want to talk about it?"
He thought about the dreadful dream, the horrible images of Melanie and Kaley were devastating. He had been hopeful that the nightmares were a thing of the past, as he hadn't had any since spending his nights with Michonne, but it was obvious he was wrong. This nightmare had been worse than the others, shaking him to his core.
"No, I don't want to talk about it. Let's try and go back to sleep," he responded.
Michonne wanted to press him on it, to insist that he open up about whatever was troubling him. She was certain there was something he wasn't telling her, more beyond losing his wife. She exhaled and laid her head on his chest, willing herself to be patient with him.
The smell of bacon and French toast wafted in the air as Rick entered the kitchen. Michonne stood at the stove, wearing a red silk robe, her long hair draped over her shoulder. He smiled at the sight, and allowed himself, just for a moment to think about what it would be like to wake up to this sight every morning, from now on. His momentary bliss was invaded by another sight, the sight of his deceased wife scowling at him. He shut his eyes for a second, then took a seat at the table.
Michonne turned to look at him. "Good morning, sleepy head," she teased. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah," he answered, rubbing his hand through his messy curls.
"Good, because we've got plenty of food."
Rick remained quiet as Michonne brought over platters of bacon, French toast, and fresh cut fruit.
"Coffee?" she asked, reaching into the cupboard to grab a couple of mugs.
"Yeah, coffee is fine." He began piling his plate with food as she brought over two steaming mugs of dark roast.
They settled into a comfortable silence as they ate their meal, each thinking about the events of the previous evening, both their blissful coupling and Rick's troublesome nightmare.
Finally, Michonne could no longer ignore his somber mood. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong Michonne," he replied emphatically, refraining from looking her in the eyes.
"Are you sure? I mean, you're so quiet. What was your dream about?" she pressed.
He dropped his fork to his plate and sighed. "I told you…it's nothing. I don't want to talk about it."
Michonne was agitated now. She had shared so much with him, her trauma, her fears, her joys, and her body. Foolishly she thought that last night was a turning point, but Rick was clamming up again.
"Rick, you can talk to me. You know that right? After everything I've shared with you, I hoped you would do the same."
He finally looked at her. Her eyes were pleading with him to say the words, to tell her the whole truth of what brought him to Tannon Falls, but he couldn't. He couldn't have her look at him like he was a monster. That's what he felt like inside. When he ran Tim off the road, he didn't feel regret, he felt satisfaction. Deep down, he knew it was wrong, but it didn't stop him from wanting Tim dead. Michonne deserved better than a man like that, a man who could have so much hatred in his heart. She was on the verge of recovery and he didn't want to hinder that in any way.
"Michonne, there are things about me…about my past, that I am not willing to share. I need you to understand that."
"I'm sorry, Rick. I don't understand," she replied, trying to calm her frustration. "What can be so bad that you can't share it with me? I told you about my son, about how I feel guilty for not being there for him when he died! I'm trying here, Rick. Why can't you do the same?" she responded harshly.
Rick stared at her blankly, almost as if he were looking through her. Images of Melanie and Kaley flashed across his mind, followed by the sight of Tim's car veering into a ditch on the deserted road.
"Rick, are you listening to me?" Michonne shouted.
"Michonne, I can't do this with you. It was a mistake," he retorted.
Michonne rose from her seat, shocked by his statement. "What do you mean, it was a mistake?"
"I mean, this…us, it's not right. Michonne, I'm a mess right now and you're doing so well putting your life back together. I don't want to get in the way of that," he said solemnly.
She stood there, tears streaming down her face. It devastated him to know he was causing her pain, but it reassured him that he was doing the right thing in pulling away before he hurt her any further.
"Rick, why are you doing this? What changed between now and last night? It certainly didn't seem like a mistake then, or did you get what you wanted so now you're done?"
He stood and walked over to her, gripping her arms. "Michonne, it's not like that. I would never use you like that. I'm doing this because I care about you. I don't want to see you hurt. I'm not the man you think I am."
"You don't want to see me hurt? Are you fucking serious? You're hurting me right now," she pulled out of his grasp.
"I'm sorry…I don't know what else to say," he said, trying and failing to make her understand.
"Just leave, Rick. I need to be alone." He nodded, without saying another word.
She sat on the sofa in the living room while he went to the bedroom to get dressed. She was so confused by what had just occurred. Last night they were making love and now he was telling her it was a mistake. Her mind was screaming "run away as fast as you can" but her heart was telling her to wrap him in her arms and convince him that this was worth it, that no matter what he was facing, she would face it with him.
When he emerged, she didn't look at him, afraid she would give into her heart and beg him to stay.
"I'll check on you later," he said softly, before leaving.
Later that evening, Rick sat in his truck outside the modest-sized colonial on Mayberry Street. He hoped Tim would appear before he lost his nerve. Today had been torture for him. Walking away from Michonne this morning had gutted him, but he was done pretending that he could live a normal life, not when he was consumed with rage, guilt, and grief. He needed to finish this once and for all.
He held his Colt in his trembling hand, looking over to the passenger seat to see Melanie glaring back at him. He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Kaley with blood trickling down her forehead. He closed his eyes and cried. "Fuck," he shouted, banging his free hand against the dashboard. "Fuck…I just want it to stop. Please…just make it stop. I don't know what to do," he cried. He wasn't sure who he was talking to…himself, God, Melanie and Kaley'sghosts. He only knew he was tired of living with this despair.
The front door of the house opened, and Rick braced himself, preparing to enact his revenge. However, he was surprised to see Tim accompanied by the older couple from the hardware store. He hadn't planned on him not being alone. Coming to his senses, and not wanting to be spotted, he put his truck into gear and sped off. Unbeknownst to him, Tim had spotted his truck and recognized it as the one who forced his vehicle off the road.
Michonne hurried to the door in response to the frantic knocking. She knew who it was even before opening it, as she heard Rick calling out to her, "Michonne, please open up. I need to talk to you."
She was caught off guard at the sight of him, tears streaming down his face, eyes red, and hands trembling.
"Come in." She pulled him inside and shut the door. "Rick, what happened? What's wrong?" she inquired; her voice laden with fear.
He collapsed to the floor, dragging her down with him. He said nothing, just gripped her tightly and sobbed.
"Oh my god, baby what's wrong?" she asked, her own eyes stinging with unshed tears. She had never seen him in such a state, and it distressed her.
"I let her die," he mumbled, shaking his head.
"What…who? Melanie? Rick there was nothing you could do," she said rubbing her hands through his hair. "I know it's hurts, but it wasn't your fault."
He looked up at her. "Not Melanie…my daughter…Kaley. I promised Mel I would keep her safe," he wept.
Michonne nearly choked on the lump in her throat as she struggled to reply, "Your daughter? I don't understand."
Rick slowly pulled out his wallet and opened it to reveal a picture of the smiling, red-headed girl with pigtails. Michonne stared at it in disbelief. She was at a complete lost for words.
"She was killed in a car wreck. The guy who hit us was some punk teenager from around town…he was distracted. He was on his phone and not paying attention."
Michonne was stunned but listened intently as Rick described the events of that fateful day.
"Now you know why I'm broken, Michonne. I don't just dream about my wife and daughter, they haunt me…and every day, I think about killing the guy who is responsible for taking my baby away."
She pulled him closer and rested his head on her bosom. "Oh, Rick…I'm so sorry. You could have told me sooner. You're not broken, and neither am I," she said, kissing the top of his head.
He melted into her embrace, tightly wrapping his arms around her. "Help me, Michonne. Please…I need help," he begged.
She cried, saddened, yet thankful for his rawness. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to help you, Rick. We're going to help each other," she whispered.
Lyrics: River by Leon Bridges
