A/N: Hello again! Sorry for the wait. I can't tell you how happy I am to get this chapter out. I like to go no longer than a week between updating, but I struggled with this one. Between work and the election, I couldn't find my way with it. I think I'm happy with how it turned out. This is actually a two-part chapter. I had to split it up because it is a bit long.
I want to point out that Tameka's artwork, which will be described later in the chapter is inspired by the work of Ann "Sole Sister" Johnson. Check out her website.
Also, pics of what inspired the town of Tannon Falls and Rick and Michonne's neighborhood are posted on my Tumblr.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Please review! I really appreciate reading your thoughts!
Chapter 6: Collide Part 1
As he sat on the bed, Rick could hear the sound of the shower running in Michonne's ensuite bathroom. His face was heavy with weariness, his cheeks damp from tears. After his confession, they remained on the floor, not saying a word. Both were completely overtaken with their shared sorrow. Michonne didn't ask him to speak. She simply held him as he let out the pain he'd been keeping bottled up for so long. It spilled freely into her lap and she didn't run away. On the contrary, she accepted it and he was grateful, more grateful than she knew.
Michonne came out of the bathroom and silently kneeled before him. She deliberately removed the clothing from his tired frame. He didn't resist. He needed her to pull him off the ledge in this moment, so he entrusted himself to her comforting arms. She held him for a moment before taking him by the hand.
"Come with me," she softly said, leading him into the bathroom. She gestured for him to get into the steaming shower and he complied. As soon as he stepped under the warm water, he felt the tension draining from his muscles. He sighed, closing his eyes. A moment later he felt Michonne standing behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She ran her hands over his chest, and he relished the feeling. Her body was flush with his, her breasts and face rested on his back as she held him tight. He loved the way she felt against him, her gentle caresses soothing him.
"Rick, I'm here for you," she assured him, gently kissing his shoulder. "I'll be here as long as you need me. I promise, you will be okay…maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but you will. You'll find a way to break through the pain. We both will."
He grabbed her right wrist and kissed it, before holding her hand close to his heart.
Michonne placed tender kisses to his back as his chest gently began to rise and fall, and she knew he was crying again. Her heart was breaking for him. She was familiar with every ounce of his pain. The pain of losing a child was like no other. She understood how difficult it was to come back from a loss like that, especially when that loss was caused by someone's negligence. One careless moment in time having a devastating impact on the rest of your life.
After Kyle died, she was furious with Lydia for being so thoughtless. Lydia was aware of Kyle's allergy, yet she brought peanut butter cookies into their home. Even after Kyle mistakenly ingested the cookies, she was too distracted to realize he was in danger or to administer his EpiPen in time to save him.
Michonne recalled Rick's admission that he thought about killing the man responsible for his daughter's death. Did he mean it? She had uttered those very words about Lydia for months after Kyle's death. She never meant it literally. She just wanted the young woman to suffer.
However, she soon realized the young woman would never stop suffering from what happened. Lydia fell into a despair nearly as dark as Michonne's, at one point having to be hospitalized for an attempt to take her own life. Upon hearing the news, Michonne knew that nothing she could wish upon the young woman would be worse.
In that moment, Michonne forgave Lydia, even if she never spoke the words. Even so, she could relate to Rick's desire to have this man suffer. She couldn't fathom losing Kyle the way Rick lost Kaley, especially after Melanie's death. She questioned whether she would feel the same as Rick? Would she want to literally kill the person responsible?
Rick continued to sob, as she held him tighter. He let his head fall into the constant stream of water, as if he were trying to wash away his anguish. Michonne positioned herself in front of him and warmly kissed his chest. He wrapped his arms around her body as she rested her head on his shoulder. "It's okay. Let it out," she encouraged him.
As his cries filled the room, she began to sing to him. It was all she could think to do, not really having the words to address how he was feeling, how she was feeling, ruminating on the loss of her own child. So, she held him and softly sang His Eye Is on the Sparrow. It was a comforting hymn, she knew Rick would appreciate, having grown up attending church. They remained holding one another, rocking gently, skin to skin, feeling the heavy beating of each other's heart.
"Thank you," he whispered. It was two simple words, but she felt the magnitude of them as she committed to lifting him out of the darkness.
They lay naked in Michonne's bed, too exhausted after their shower to bother with getting dressed. Rick stared at the ceiling, replaying the day. Just that morning, he told Michonne that whatever this was between them was a mistake. He hated to do it, but he didn't want to pull her into his chaos. Now, after coming so close to ending Tim's life, he was back in her bed seeking the solace that only she could provide. He looked over to her as she rested next to him, worry clouding her eyes.
"Come here," he said, pulling her closer to him. Her skin was so soft, and he wanted to feel it against his body. He ran his fingers along her spine and gently kissed her…once…then twice. His stormy blue eyes were intense. She tried to decipher if it was sadness, adoration, or lust…maybe all three. She held the same look in her eyes.
Needing to feel all of him, she straddled his waist, her moist center rubbing against his growing erection. He stared up at her perky breasts, the chill of the air in the room causing her nipples to pebble. Rick licked his lips and positioned himself, so he was sitting up against the headboard. He pushed a stray loc behind her ear and pulled her closer for another kiss. She wrapped her hands around his neck and let his warm tongue play with hers, moaning into his mouth.
When she felt his rough hands palming her ass, she began lightly gyrating her hips on top of him. He was rock hard now and she wanted nothing more than to have him inside of her, making her forget the distressing events of the night.
Rick broke their kiss, moving his mouth to her right breast, fervently sucking on the nipple as if it were providing him sustenance. Not wanting to be neglectful, he massaged her other breast in his hands, rubbing his thumb across the stiffened bud. He could feel her juices coating his cock, and it made him thrust his hips upward, anxious to invade her walls.
Michonne reluctantly placed her hands on his chest to halt his attentions so she could reach over and grab a condom from the nightstand. He quickly rolled it on and pulled her dripping center onto his throbbing dick. His mouth hung open as Michonne took him in, her walls clenching around him.
"Shit," he moaned as she began to roll her hips in a circular motion, then up and down. He grabbed her ass and assisted with her motions.
Michonne held onto Rick's shoulders to give herself leverage as she increased her speed. They held each other's gaze, their eyes expressing what words could not.
Rick held onto her tiny waist and thrusted upward, licking his lips at the delicious sight of her full breasts bouncing mere inches from his mouth.
Michonne's eyes fluttered shut, as the splendid pleasure swept over her. "Oooh…god," she purred, dropping her head to the crook of his neck, and lapping at his skin.
Rick gripped her tighter, frantically drilling into her. She gasped as she felt his middle finger slide between her cheeks and enter her most intimate place.
She was never one to be shy during sex, allowing her partners to indulge in their fantasies, while she did the same. Ed always found her sexual exploration to be overwhelming. He preferred tame sex, usually missionary and occasionally her on top. It was only her second time being with Rick, but she knew he was open to fulfilling all of her sexual desires. She wanted to return the favor, enjoying the way he took command of her, relishing every part of her. It was erotic, filthy, intense, and exactly what she needed in this moment.
Rick tugged her head back by her hair, exposing her neck. He sucked her skin into his warm mouth, moaning at the taste. The feeling of his tongue caressing her skin, his finger sliding in and out of her backside and the fluid stroke of his dick had her senses on overload. She felt her pussy pulsating with each thrust and she knew she was on the verge of unraveling.
"Rick," she panted, urgently bouncing her ass on his dick, as she dug her nails into his shoulders.
"That's it," he breathed. "Give it to me."
In this moment, she wanted to give him everything, not only her body, but all of her pain and sadness. Somehow, she knew that's what he meant. He wanted to absorb it and she wanted to do the same for him.
They shared a sloppy kiss as she continued to ride him. She was so wet, the sound of him moving inside of her mixed with their desperate cries of pleasure. He loved the way her body responded to him. He wished he could experience the feeling without the barrier of a condom, but she insisted he wear one, not for fear of catching anything, but fear of getting pregnant. She didn't say it outright, but he understood.
"God, Michonne…I never want to let you go," he panted, burying his face between her breasts, and licking her salty skin.
She grabbed a fistful of his damp curls, seductively rolling her hips while her pussy squeezed the life out of him. He was making her feel so fucking good, she felt like she would die at any minute.
"Don't ever let me go," she begged, greedily recapturing his lips.
Their statements hung in the air, as they reveled in their intense connection. The words were not simply uttered in the throes of passion, but a declaration of their need for one another.
Their lovemaking became more carnal as both neared their climax, with pleasurable moans and grunts invading the dark bedroom. Rick lifted his back off the headboard and wrapped Michonne tight in his arms, thrusting upward at a maddening pace. She held on for dear life, clawing at his back and biting his shoulder. She was completely at his mercy, each stroke tearing her apart and rebuilding her anew.
"Rick…" she whined, trembling all over. "Hold on baby…I got you," he promised her.
He felt her hot, wet walls closing in on him and he silently begged for her to let go, knowing he wouldn't last much longer. He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, then traced his tongue across her neck and clavicle. When he gently bit down, he felt the warm gush of her sweetness soaking him.
Michonne released a series of expletives as her orgasm hit her like a freight train, fast and hard. It felt so freeing, as she held him tight, panting and crying all at once.
Rick soon followed, maintaining a strong hold on her waist as he pummeled into her, words of adoration falling from his lips as he came. His climax was blinding, washing over him in waves.
Their bodies remained intertwined, chests heaving, as Rick placed kisses all over Michonne's face.
"Thank you," he whispered once again, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.
Friday and Saturday passed uneventful as Rick and Michonne confined themselves to her home. They had yet to discuss Rick's confession or the event that brought him to her doorstep in tears that night. She wanted to know what triggered his despondent state but thought it best to give him time, before diving into the conversation. Finally, on Sunday, she brought it up.
They sat on opposite ends of her sofa, knees bent and feet rubbing together as Rick read and Michonne sketched. She broke the comfortable silence with a question, one she hoped he would answer honestly.
"Rick, what happened the other night?"
He looked at her with confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, what made you so upset? I've never seen you like that." He didn't answer, so she continued. "When you said that you think about killing the man responsible for the accident…were you serious?"
Rick thought about how he should respond to her questions. He'd revealed the death of his daughter, but there was so much more to tell. He hadn't told Michonne about his mental troubles after Kaley died, nor the fact that he moved to Tannon Falls to stalk and murder Tim Taylor. He wanted to believe that Michonne wouldn't run away the second she knew who he really was, but he was afraid to risk losing her. She told him she wasn't going anywhere, but he couldn't be sure.
"Michonne, the man who killed my daughter was released from prison earlier this year. When I found out, yes, I wanted to kill him. I still do, but I'm working through it. What you saw the other night, was me struggling to work through it."
It wasn't the complete truth, but it wasn't a total lie, either. He hoped she would accept it, because it was all he had to give at the moment.
"I see. Did you move here to get away from him?"
"Not exactly," he sighed.
"Rick, I can't help you if you're not honest with me. Please talk to me," she begged. "You asked me to help you and I will, but first I need to know what's going on."
He stared into her pleading brown eyes, knowing he needed to meet her halfway. "After Kaley died, I lost it. The grief and the rage consumed me, made me behave out of character. It started affecting my job." He paused, not wanting to disclose anymore, but knowing he had to push through it.
Michonne sat up, taking his hand into hers. "Go on."
"I took my anger out on a few suspects, roughing them up a bit, but it went too far one night. My partner and I were called to a domestic violence situation. The guy, Ed Peletier was well known in the department. His wife Carol made several complaints against him throughout the years."
Michonne squeezed his hand, encouraging him to keep going. "What happened?"
"When we got there, she was outside on the grass. Ed was kicking her in her stomach. Her screams were deafening. When I saw it, I just blacked out. When I realized what was happening, my partner was pulling me off of him. He was unconscious on the ground. I'd knocked out his front teeth and broken several of his ribs. It shouldn't have happened," he said, his voice trailing off as he reflected on the incident.
"Rick…I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know it was hard for you losing Melanie and Kaley so close together. No one should have expected you to keep it together. Why didn't you take time off?"
"Oh, I was forced to after that. I had to see a psychiatrist. She said I was suffering from depression and PTSD from the accident. All I knew is that I wished it were me who died on that road that day…not my little girl," he choked out, trying to hold back the tears.
Michonne straddled him and held him close. "I know baby…I know." She kissed his forehead and looked him in the eyes. "But you are here for a reason. Do you hear me? You weren't meant to die that day. Now you have to keep living, for yourself and for Kaley."
He nodded, knowing she was right, but it was so damn hard.
"Believe me, I know what it's like to want to give up and die. I felt it daily after Kyle passed away. I could barely get out of bed. Eventually, my mother made me see a therapist who forced me to do the hard work of living after the loss of the most precious person in the world to me. I'm still fighting everyday to do that. So, believe me when I tell you that you are not alone." She could no longer hold back her emotions, snuggling in his chest as she began to cry for him and for herself. He cried too, tears of sadness, but also of joy that he had her in his life.
Later that evening, following their cathartic release of emotions, Michonne convinced Rick to head into town to browse some of the local shops and get dessert at a bakery she'd become fond of visiting after work. Of course, he protested, not wanting to be around people, but she insisted they couldn't stay locked in the house forever.
Now here they were, walking hand-in-hand as they scanned the row of boutiques and markets that sat in the middle of town square. Rick hadn't spent much time here, really none at all. He was pleasantly surprised by the quaint, homey ambiance. The streets were lined with holiday decorations, and people were buzzing about searching for items to mark off their Christmas lists.
The feeling was bittersweet as they strolled along, both thinking about spending the holidays without their children, but neither saying it. Instead, they pressed on, stopping in the bookstore so Rick could purchase a couple of novels and the art supply store so Michonne could stock up on watercolors and modeling clay to supply for the kids at the church.
Michonne's eyes lit up as she dragged Rick into Martha's Bakery. The delectable smell of cookies, pies and cakes tempting them as soon as they walked inside. They ordered two slices of chocolate ganache cake topped with fresh strawberries and settled into a tiny booth to enjoy their treat.
"Mmmm," Michonne moaned, closing her eyes as she took her first bite.
Rick laughed at her dramatics. "You sure you want to be moaning like that in public?" he asked, winking at her.
"Don't be jealous, Rick. You're not the only thing that can make me moan. This is almost as good as sex…almost," she teased.
"Damn, if chocolate cake is competition for me, I must not be doing my job," he shot back, enjoying the distraction of their playful banter.
"I'm just kidding…nothing compares to you," she pointedly replied. She meant it. Rick had pulled her into his orbit like no one else she had ever known. She'd never fallen so deeply or so quickly for any other man, not even Edward. It was equally as thrilling as it was terrifying.
He leaned over and kissed her, discreetly licking a bit of icing from her full lips. She giggled in response.
As they resumed devouring their desserts, they didn't notice Elaina sitting in the booth across from them. She watched them as they laughed and talked, clearly lost in their own world. She waved her hand to get their attention, then walked over to their booth.
"Nice to see you two again," she smiled, before holding her hand out to Michonne. "I don't think we've formally met. I'm Elaina Jones. I work over at the post office," she said, motioning in the direction of the building.
Michonne and Rick shared a puzzled glance, annoyed their conversation had been interrupted by this stranger, and a bit taken aback by her appearance. Her curly black hair was disheveled, and her light brown skin was covered in pink blemishes.
Not wanting to be rude, Michonne accepted the woman's handshake. "Michonne Jameson. It's nice to meet you."
Elaina trailed her almond colored eyes over Michonne, as if she were sizing her up. "Meeshown," she repeated, letting it roll off her tongue. "Well, that is a pretty name, isn't it Rick?"
"Pretty name for a pretty lady," he returned, smiling at Michonne.
"Hmm, cute. Well, I just thought I would come say hello. Enjoy your evening," she said before turning on her heels and exiting the bakery.
Rick and Michonne were left confused. "What the fuck? Is she stalking you?" Michonne asked Rick. "Are you sure you didn't sleep with her?"
Rick rolled his eyes at her question. "Michonne, I told you I never laid a hand on that woman. I don't know what her deal is, but I'm sure she's harmless. She just seems lonely."
"I suppose you're right…and I totally get how you have an effect on women," she quipped, batting her long eyelashes at him.
He smirked and playfully kissed the tip of her nose.
Elaina stood outside the bakery, observing them through the window. Suddenly, she was startled by a man's voice.
"Lookin' for me darlin?" Merle asked with a devious grin.
The next day, Rick pulled his truck into the parking lot of Rhee's Auto Shop. He sat quietly, taking a moment to gather himself for the day. He spotted Merle's motorcycle and groaned, in no mood to deal with his bullshit. He procrastinated a little longer, picking up his phone and texting Michonne. He knew she was teaching, so he probably wouldn't get a response, but he wanted to check in with her…Hey beautiful, just letting you know I made it into work okay. I'll see you later tonight.
To his surprise, she texted back…You be good! I'll have something nice for dinner waiting for you. See you later.
He smiled, thinking about how domesticated they had become over the past few weeks. It was rare for them to have a meal alone or even sleep alone in their respective homes. All things considered, he couldn't believe how quickly he'd let her in, but Michonne wasn't like other women he'd met. She was special. He figured that out soon after they met, and despite his best efforts, he couldn't help but fall for her.
He put his phone in his pocket and made his way into the shop, purposely ignoring Daryl and Merle as he greeted Glenn. "Hey Glenn, how's it goin'?"
"Hey man, how was your weekend?" Glenn responded.
"It was good. What we got lined up?"
Before Glenn could answer, Merle rudely interrupted, sauntering over to Rick. "Well, if ain't officer friendly."
"Merle…don't start," Glenn warned. "Let's keep things civil."
Merle laughed at Glenn's request. "I'm not sure officer friendly here, knows how to be civil. Ain't that right?" he asked deliberately, glaring at Rick.
Rick put his hands on his hips, tilting his head sideways as he tried to figure out what the hell Merle was blabbering about. "You got somethin' you wanna say?"
Merle smirked with glee. "As a matter of fact, I do. You see I did some diggin' into ya' past… and guess what I found?"
Rick glowered at him incredulously, quickly growing agitated.
"Oh…didn't thank redneck hillbillies like me had friends in high places? Well, I guess the jokes on you officer friendly cause my friend found some real interestin' information. Yeah, it seems the good officer here had himself a little mental breakdown," Merle chuckled.
Rick tensed, wondering how Merle got that information. His records were confidential.
"Merle, that's enough," Glenn cautioned.
"Oh, that's not all folks. Yeah, see our friend here damn near beat a guy to death and nearly got himself kicked out of the sheriff's department. Ain't that right? Tell me somethin', does that sweet dark chocolate piece of ass you're screwin' know who you really are?"
Before Rick knew it, Glenn and Daryl were holding him back from pouncing on Merle. "You shut your fuckin' mouth," Rick shouted, ready to rip Merle's head off.
Merle threw up his hands, backing away from Rick. "Easy now, fella…wouldn't wantcha' doin' anythang you'd regret…might land ya' in the looney bin," he laughed.
"That's enough Merle," Daryl interjected. Time for you to go."
"I'm goin' little brother," Merle said, backing out the door. "Catcha' later officer friendly."
Daryl and Glenn did their best to hold onto Rick until Merle hopped on his bike and disappeared around the corner.
Rick broke free, pacing and running his hands through his hair.
"So, now we know why you left King County," Daryl said, shaking his head. "Rick, what was all of that about?" Glenn asked.
"It's a long story…one I don't feel like sharing. It's my personal business! Your fuckin' brother crossed the line!" he yelled at Daryl. "I'm telling you right now, Daryl, get control of him. He's fuckin' with the wrong one."
Daryl saw the rage in Rick's eyes. He knew he meant it, but he had never been able to control Merle. He just hoped this beef between Rick and Merle would die down soon.
"I'll handle it…a'ight," Daryl ensured him.
"You better," Rick snapped.
"Look Rick, what happened in your past isn't our business," Glenn stated. I just need to know that whatever trouble you were in is behind you now."
Rick nodded, ready to put the matter to rest.
"Okay guys, can we get back to work?" Glenn requested.
It was closing time at the auto shop. Rick and Glenn were the only two left, making sure things were organized to open up early the next day.
Rick was still disturbed by the information Merle was able to uncover about him. He racked his brain trying to figure out Merle's source. No one in Tannon Falls knew him. He assumed Daryl divulged his full name, along with his previous residence and occupation, but to uncover his past mental health issues would require someone with a lot more clout than a two-bit redneck from this small town.
Glenn interrupted his thoughts. "Hey man, thanks for staying later. I think we're all set here, let's head out."
"Hold up a minute," Rick said, gesturing for Glenn to have a seat. "I feel like I owe you an explanation."
"Rick, it's all good. It's not my business," Glenn retorted, shaking his head.
"No…really…I could use a friend right now. I know we haven't known each other long, but I consider you one. Please, just hear me out."
Glenn slowly sat down, anxiously anticipating what Rick had to say. "Alright, sure. I appreciate that."
Rick ran his hand over his face, not exactly sure where to start, so he decided to start at the beginning, when everything fell apart.
"A few years ago, I considered myself to be a normal guy. I had a family and a good job with the sheriff's department, but then it all started to unravel."
Glenn looked shocked. "Wait, you had a family? Where are they now?"
Rick held up his hand to silence him. "I'm getting to that. My wife...Melanie, she got breast cancer. By the time it was diagnosed, it had already metastasized throughout her body. She died not long after."
Glenn looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, it was devastating. She was so young and vibrant, and I had to watch her wither away…but the worst part was trying to explain to our daughter why she wouldn't see her mother again."
Glenn shifted in his seat, his jaw on the verge of dropping at hearing everything Rick was sharing.
"Anyway, I did my best. I made sure that she wouldn't forget her mother, kept pictures of her around the house, talked about her often. Kaley…that's my daughter's name…the older she got, the more she looked like her mama, big green eyes and red hair," he smiled, picturing her. "One day I picked her up from school, she had been begging for a puppy and so I decided to surprise her. We were going to pick it up when we got into an accident. This guy…he came out of nowhere and slammed into us."
Rick paused for a moment, replaying the accident in his head. His face flushed as he thought about Kaley's screams and the pain he felt in his own body as he lost control of his vehicle.
"I was banged up pretty bad, but Kaley got the worst of it. She died at the scene and ever since then, I've struggled…mentally. It started affecting my job, so I walked away." He looked up at Glenn who held an unreadable expression on his face.
"Rick, I don't know what to say. I can't imagine how tough it's been for you. I thank you for sharing this with me."
Rick nodded in response. "I haven't told anyone this except for Michonne. I'd appreciate it if you kept it to yourself."
"Yeah, of course man. No worries…and don't worry about Merle. He's just blowing hot air as usual."
"Yeah, thanks. "I'll see you tomorrow. I'm gonna go home and have dinner with Michonne."
Glenn smiled. "Tell her I said hello."
"Sure thing."
A few days later…
Michonne could not contain the smile on her face as she took in the work of art before her. Aside from being hugely creative, the meaning behind the piece resonated with her. Michonne gently ran her fingers over the figure of the curvy black woman, her thick hair piled high upon her head, her elongated neck presenting an air of regalness. The woman held the Earth in her hands, a literal depiction of carrying the world on her shoulders.
"Tameka, I am at a loss for words. The way you were able to incorporate the dichotomy of a strong, yet vulnerable Black woman by printing the image on a feather, it's astonishing!"
Tameka beamed as she absorbed Michonne's praise. The young woman had become quite fond of Michonne and considered herself lucky to be her mentee.
"I'm so happy you like it, Michonne. I worked really hard on this. I definitely wanted to convey that message. I know I'm young, but it seems like every woman in my life has always been expected to take on everything and be strong, but they are never allowed to be vulnerable."
Michonne nodded in agreement and sighed. "I'm aware. Personally, I've had to deal with so many things in life and keep it moving, but deep inside, I wanted to break down. When I finally allowed myself the opportunity to be vulnerable, I was able to start healing…and even better, when you find someone who will let you be vulnerable and in turn shows you their vulnerability, it's liberating."
She smiled, thinking about her relationship with Rick, how good it felt to be herself with him. He accepted her, scars and all and she accepted him.
"I'm glad you're learning this lesson early. As a Black woman, you can be strong and assertive, while also being tender. It's not an either-or situation. We deserve to be seen as full, complex human beings. I'm so proud of you", Michonne said, stroking Tameka's braids.
Tameka smiled in return. "I'm calling this piece, Fragile."
"I think that's very fitting," Michonne proffered.
Tim walked over to them, also admiring the artwork. "This is great, T."
"Thanks, I have a few more pieces I need to get ready before the show. Thanks, again Michonne. I'm so happy you're helping us," the young woman said before departing.
"Hey you," Tim greeted Michonne. "It looks like you've been busy. I'm so impressed with what you've done with these kids."
"It's been a pleasure. They're so talented," Michonne returned, staring into his hazel eyes. Despite his seemingly chipper mood, there was a sadness there. "How are you doing, hun?" she asked, taking his hand into hers.
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something. Can we go inside the office?" he asked, pointing toward the small office at the entrance of the rec room.
Michonne nodded, following him inside. Tim closed the door and took a seat in one of the faux leather chairs.
Michonne sat next to him, "What's this about? Are your aunt and uncle okay?"
He ran his hands through his blonde tresses. "Yeah, they're fine. I'm just going through a rough patch."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to help?" she asked, staring into his melancholy eyes. It saddened her to see her friend like this. He'd been doing so well, she had hoped his good spirits would last longer, especially with the holiday showcase around the corner.
Tim remained quiet for a spell, images of Rick's truck on the road and outside his house, flashed through his mind. He hadn't gotten a good look at the driver, so he couldn't be sure, but he had a good idea of the man's identity. He hadn't seen Deputy Grimes since his sentencing hearing, but the way the man glared at him, made it clear how he felt. However, he'd hoped and prayed that the man's anger had lessened over the years.
"My past is catching up to me," he finally responded.
Michonne looked at him inquisitively. "What does that mean? Are you in some kind of trouble?"
He didn't want to alarm her, still unsure if there was actually cause for alarm. "I can't really explain it…I'm just happy to have you here, Michonne." Without warning, he leaned over and kissed her lips.
Michonne immediately pulled away, her hand touching the spot where he'd kissed her, as if her lips were on fire.
"I'm sorry," he apologized, his handsome face turning crimson. "I didn't mean to do that."
"Tim, I like you. I really do. You've been a good friend, but…"
"I know, Michonne. I know you're seeing someone. It won't happen again," he assured her, getting up to leave the office.
"Tim, wait. Just hold on for a minute. I want you to know, I'm still here for you. I know you've been through a lot, but it's time to forgive yourself. Forgiveness is a really important step in the healing process. I want you to be happy," she smiled.
He returned her smile. "I'm gonna try."
Later that night…
Michonne lay in bed, thinking about what occurred earlier with Tim. She was aware of his attraction to her, but it had never been a problem. He knew she was with someone and their friendship remained intact. She sighed, chalking the kiss up to a momentary lapse in judgement on his part, really more of a cry for help. His troubled demeanor concerned her.
Rick interrupted her thoughts, exiting the bathroom wearing a plush navy-blue towel wrapped around his waist, a few damp curls spilling onto his forehead. Michonne watched him intently as he threw the towel in the hamper and slipped on a pair of black boxers.
"Come here handsome," she said, opening her arms to accept him as he settled in next to her. She inhaled his fresh scent and it instantly calmed her.
He kissed her forehead as he held her tight in his strong arms. "How was your day?" he asked, kissing her again, this time on the lips.
She giggled as a few drops of water fell from his hair onto her cheek. "You're getting me all wet. Maybe you should start blow drying your hair before coming to bed," she joked.
He chuckled. "Nah, that would dry my hair out. How would you like running your fingers through sandpaper?"
Her fingers instantly reached up and ran through his curls, relishing in their permanent happy place. "No, I love your silky curls."
"I know you do," he teased, kissing her once more. "You didn't answer my question. How did things go working on the showcase?"
She thought about the kiss again but decided against sharing that information. "Things are going as planned. We're right on schedule. The young lady I told you about, Tameka, she's created a really amazing piece. I think I may buy it myself," she beamed.
"Oh yeah?" he asked, rubbing his fingers along the smooth skin under her pink camisole.
"Yeah," she breathed, suddenly losing her train of thought at the feeling of his hands on her skin.
He slowly pulled the strap of her top down and kissed her shoulder. "That's wonderful," he whispered, adjusting his body so he was lying on top of her.
She spread her legs to welcome him between them, running her fingernails across his broad back, as he proceeded to pull her top down further, exposing her breasts.
Just as Rick began trailing his tongue along her left nipple, her cell phone buzzed on top of the nightstand.
"Leave it," he groaned.
"It will just take a second, I promise," she said, grabbing the phone.
He released a frustrated sigh and moved off her, lying on his back.
"Hey Maggie, what's up?" Michonne greeted her friend, adjusting her top to cover herself.
"Hey, I was wondering if you and Rick are coming to my holiday party next week? I hadn't heard back from you and I'm trying to plan for enough food and drinks," Maggie answered on the other end.
Michonne exhaled. She'd been avoiding giving Maggie a response about the party, not really feeling up to celebrating Christmas with strangers.
"Uh, I don't know Maggie. Honestly, I'm not sure if I'm up to it." Michonne knew Maggie would be puzzled. She had yet, to tell her about Kyle and she hadn't elaborated on Rick's past either. "It just seems strange, not being home in Atlanta this year."
Rick looked on, curious as to what they were discussing. He tickled her bare thighs, eliciting a light chuckle from her in the process.
Michonne continued, "I'll think about it and let you know tomorrow. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, that's fine sweetie. I hope you can make it. It will be fun, I promise. Talk to you tomorrow," Maggie said, before hanging up.
Michonne placed the phone back on the nightstand and ran her hand through her long locs, torn between staying in her cocoon with Rick and pushing out of her comfort zone.
"What was that about?" Rick asked, raising his eyebrows in concern.
"The party I told you about. Maggie wants to know if we're coming?"
He sat up, resting his back against the headboard. "Michonne…" he groaned.
"I know, I know. You're not into the idea and neither am I really, but Rick…we have to start making an effort. We may enjoy it," she reconciled.
He stared into her warm, pleading eyes. He knew she was right. Everything they'd done until now was superficial, not really engaging with anyone outside of Maggie and Glenn. At some point, they would need to rejoin the land of the living.
Conceding, he shook his head. "You're right. If you want to go, we can go."
"Are you sure?" she smiled, straddling him, and wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Yeah, I'm sure," he answered, capturing her savory lips. "Now, where were we?"
A week later…
Maggie lived in a large, two-story Victorian cottage on the outskirts of town. Rick and Michonne skimmed the street lined with vehicles, searching for a place to park. They finally found spot a few houses down from Maggie's.
"Did she invite the entire town?" Rick joked, a hint of trepidation in his voice. Michonne laughed nervously. "I sure hope not, but remember our agreement. We're going to have a good time."
"Yeah…I know," he shrugged, perusing her with his steely blue eyes.
Her locs were twisted into an elegant goddess crown braid, adorned with a few pieces of gold hair jewelry. Dressed for the festive occasion, she wore a ruby red, cowl knit sweater dress which stopped mid-thigh and matching over-the-knee suede boots. She was a vision and Rick couldn't stop staring.
"What?" she asked shyly.
"You're so pretty," he whispered, leaning over to gently kiss her dark red lips.
"Thank you, baby." She smiled, running her thumb over his lips to wipe away the lipstick. "Are you ready to do this?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," he sighed.
The party was in full swing as they entered the house, Maggie kissing them both on the cheek and taking their coats.
"I'm so glad y'all came out tonight," she exclaimed. I have a few folks I want to introduce you to, but first head over to the dining room and help yourselves to some food. I'll let Glenn know you're here.
"Thanks, Maggie," Michonne responded. She grabbed Rick's hand and headed toward the dining room where they found a huge spread of savory and sweet dishes, along with a long table full of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.
Rick already feeling anxious with the amount of people there, immediately went to fix a couple of drinks, while Michonne stood in line at the buffet table.
She looked around at all the Christmas decorations, garland and lights were draped everywhere. A few tables with poinsettias as centerpieces were set up in the great room, with a full Christmas tree in the corner. Impressive, she thought to herself. She looked around at the crowd of faces, some familiar, some not. It was clear everyone was enjoying themselves as they ate, drank, and danced to holiday tunes.
Michonne felt the gloom rising inside as she thought about Christmas time in Atlanta, how excited Kyle would be as it got closer to the big day. He was still at an age where he believed in Santa Claus. Neither Michonne nor Ed had the heart to break it to him that they were Santa. On Christmas Eve, he insisted they make sure the chimney was clear so Santa could slide down and he always left a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk on the kitchen table. She chuckled at the memories.
"I'm gonna find us a place to sit," Rick said, startling her as he walked up beside her. "Ok, what do you want to eat?" she asked. He took a moment to examine the offerings. "Just get me whatever you're having," he replied, kissing her on the cheek before going to locate an empty table.
Rick and Michonne sat at the table, watching the other guests, and not saying a word. They each knew what the other was thinking, but neither wanting to give in and admit that it had been a mistake to come. Rick was on his second glass of whiskey when Maggie finally made her way back over to them, Glenn and two other people accompanying her.
"Hey guys, I'm glad you could make it," Glenn said, leaning over to hug them both.
"Michonne and Rick, these are my friends, Paul and Tara. They were the first friends I made when I moved here."
"Nice to meet you," Tara said cheerfully. "I love your outfit," she offered, gesturing to Michonne's ensemble.
Michonne smiled politely. "Thanks."
Paul quickly stepped in, shaking Rick's hand and kissing Michonne's. "I'm actually Maggie's roommate. She likes to let people think she can afford this house on a teacher's salary, but that's obviously unrealistic," he teased. Maggie rolled her eyes, jabbing him in his side with her elbow.
"That's not true. I let people know I have a roommate, but that sounds so formal. You're my best friend," she smiled.
Paul barely heard a word she said, captivated by Rick's ocean blue eyes and how they popped against his gray sweater. "Rick, how do you know Maggie?"
Rick and Michonne looked at each other, confused by the long-haired man's stare and obvious obliviousness to the nature of their relationship.
Maggie noticed their confused looks and laughed. "Paul slow your roll. Rick and Michonne are together. He knows me through her."
Glenn, Tara, and Michonne laughed as Rick's face flushed.
"I'm not sure what you mean," Paul lied. "I was just asking a question."
"You're a damn lie," Maggie quipped. "I get it, Rick is very handsome, but I'm pretty sure he isn't gay."
"I'm sitting right here," Rick chimed in, growing increasingly uncomfortable with the conversation. Michonne rubbed his hand with her thumb to calm his nerves. "It's okay, take it as a compliment."
He scoffed at her. "Um, you want another drink?" he asked, anxious to make a quick exit.
"I'll take another glass of wine," Michonne answered, handing him her glass.
"I'll join you," Glenn offered, following Rick.
Once they were at the bar area, Glenn pulled Rick aside. "You okay, man?"
Rick sat the glasses down and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Not really, this is a bit overwhelming."
Glenn patted him on the back. "I'm sure it is. You and Michonne can take off if you want, I can tell Maggie you weren't feeling well or something."
"Nah, I'm gonna try and stick it out, for Michonne's sake." He glanced over to see her laughing with Maggie, Paul, and Tara.
"Alright," Glenn said, grabbing a beer and heading back to the table.
Rick soon followed with a tumbler full of whiskey and a glass of chardonnay for Michonne.
"Here you go sweetheart," he said, handing her the wine.
She took it, noticing the troubled look on his face. They locked eyes for a moment before Michonne interrupted the conversation. "Tara, Paul…it was nice meeting you both. Maggie, Rick and I are gonna have a look around."
"Sure, feel free to explore," she said, waving them off.
Michonne took Rick by the hand and led him into the bathroom on the second floor.
"What's wrong?" she asked, taking his drink, and setting both of their glasses on the extra wide vanity.
"I think you know…I don't want to be here," he responded, his southern drawl heavy from the alcohol consumption.
She sighed and pulled on his sweater to draw him nearer as she leaned against the vanity.
"I know, but it isn't that bad. I had a moment earlier, but I managed to stop it before it got out of hand. I know you're thinking about Kaley, but you can do this, Rick. Please…do it for me," she pleaded.
"I am doin' it for you," he shot back, sounding harsher than intended. "I'm sorry…I just really hate this time of the year."
Michonne didn't say another word, instead she cuffed her hands around his neck and offered him a languid kiss. He instantly wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her closer as he intensified the kiss, the taste of whiskey mixing with wine as their tongues mingled.
"Mmm," he moaned into her mouth, feeling his dick grow harder by the second. He couldn't be sure if it was the effects of the alcohol or the way her ass looked in that dress, but he was ready to throw caution to the wind and have his way with her right then and there.
She felt it too, electricity coursing through her as he turned his attention to her neck, gently biting and sucking on her hot flesh. "Hold on baby," she said, tugging at his curls to gain his attention. "Go lock the door."
He hesitantly broke away from her to ensure that he wouldn't be caught, literally with his pants down. Once the door was secure, he hurriedly removed his sweater and began unbuckling his belt and pants. Michonne lifted her dress around her waist and removed her panties as she watched him, carefully sliding them over her high-heeled boots.
She knew this was wrong, having sex in her friend's bathroom, but she couldn't stop herself at the moment, wanting desperately to erase her and Rick's solemn mood.
"We probably shouldn't be doing this," she said as he pulled her in for a greedy kiss.
"Yeah, I know…but I need you," he insisted, looking into her eyes.
"I'm here," she whispered, running her fingers along his toned chest. "But we haven't got much time."
He kissed her again. "Then I guess I better fuck you fast…turn around," he commanded.
Her pussy was dripping at the sound of his husky voice, filled with need. She did as she was told, turning around, and clutching the edge of the vanity as Rick quickly pulled down his pants and boxers, entering her slowly from behind.
His mouth hung open at the sensation of her slippery walls enveloping him without the added barrier of a condom. "Fuck," he breathed as she clenched him. He pulled out; afraid he would finish before he got started.
Michonne turned to look at him, impatiently pleading for him to continue. "Come on."
He took a deep breath and entered her again.
"Mmm," she hummed, arching her back and bending over the cold, hard vanity, allowing him to sink deeper.
He pushed her dress up further and gripped her hips, enjoying the sight of fucking her in thigh-highs and boots. Something about it was sexy to him. "Shit…baby," he groaned as he grinded into her.
Michonne grasped the vanity tighter and rolled her hips to match his thrusts. She could already feel the room getting hot, her head spinning from the alcohol and sheer pleasure.
Rick lifted her right leg onto the vanity, sinking even deeper inside her. The feel of her tight, dripping center was indescribable. He closed his eyes and dug his fingers into her plump ass.
"Mmm…Rick," she moaned loudly, getting lost in his delicious stroke.
"Shhh," he cautioned her. "We have to be quiet," he mumbled. Still, he was relentless, mercilessly pounding into her, their sticky skin slapping together.
"Fuuuckk," she panted, rocking against him, making the drag of his dick, that much more pleasurable. The position she was in was slightly uncomfortable and she struggled to maintain her balance as he drilled into her, but it didn't matter. It felt too good to stop.
He removed her black panties off the vanity, stuffing them into her mouth, as he fucked her harder.
"Oooh," she moaned into the fabric, biting down on the garment to stop from screaming. His dick was leaving nothing to be desired. She hadn't realized how different it would be without a condom. She could feel every ridge of his veiny cock as he slid in and out of her, the tip of his thick head, nearly puncturing her cervix. Her mind was going numb with desire.
Rick separated her plump cheeks so he could watch himself sink into her wet pussy. He nearly came at the sight. "Oh fuck," he moaned, biting his bottom lip as he slowed his pace, wanting to savor it.
Meanwhile, Michonne was climbing up the walls, coming undone by the mixture of pleasure and pain from his long, languid strokes. She could no longer hold back, releasing her juices all over his cock and whining in ecstasy.
He watched in a trance as her walls pulsated around his dick, her wetness soaking him. He knew he didn't have much longer, her greedy pussy luring his release.
"I'm gonna cum," he muttered, pounding into her again.
Michonne let the panties fall from her mouth. "Pull out," she reminded him.
A few more thrusts and he pulled out just in time, his semen squirting in thick, white spurts onto her backside. The sight of his seed on her ass made him cum even harder. "Fuck," he grunted, hastily jerking his dick, emptying himself on her.
Michonne was completely turned on by his cum running down her backside, her walls throbbing again as he reached his climax.
"Damn," he breathed, coming back down to Earth.
Michonne echoed his sentiment. Every time they were together was mind-blowing, but this…quick and dirty…was something altogether different. It was naughty and messy, and she loved every minute of it.
"Don't move," Rick said, reaching across from her to grab a few paper towels. He cleaned her up, threw the evidence in the nearby trash can and proceeded to get dressed.
"Well, I think my panties are ruined," she joked, holding the drenched garment up for display.
He smiled, taking the lacy panties, and stuffing them into his back pocket. "I guess that means we need to get you home…wouldn't want to have you walking around indecent."
She gifted him with a tender kiss. "Are you better?"
"I am," he replied, hungrily devouring her lips.
Several days later…
The day of the art showcase had finally arrived and Michonne had several things to do in preparation. She managed to leave the high school early so she could go home and change then drive over to the church to set things up.
She grabbed her mail on the way inside and threw it on the coffee table. A large white envelope immediately caught her attention. She picked it up and identified the sender, Goldman and Associates, the law firm handling her divorce. She opened the envelope, examining the contents.
He'd finally done it. Ed had signed the papers. Her divorce was final. She took a moment to soak it in, the struggle of the past 18 months, crashing down upon her. She couldn't have predicted any of it…the affair, Kyle's death, her downward spiral, it all changed her. She was forced to reach into the depths of her soul and find a strength she never knew she possessed.
She sat down on the sofa and dialed her mother's number. Thankfully, she answered right away.
"Michonne, how are you honey?" Anna beamed into her ear.
"Mom, he finally signed them…he signed the divorce papers. We're done."
"Oh," Anna responded. "How do you feel about that?" she asked cautiously.
"Honestly, I don't know. I'm relieved it's over. I want to put that chapter of my life behind me, but it will never be fully buried. We lost our son…and in some ways, that will bind us forever." Michonne reflected on a happier time, when the three of them were together, before it all fell apart.
Sensing the sadness in her daughter's voice, Anna offered words of comfort, "It's okay to feel torn about this, Michonne. You and Ed were happy once, you had a good life…and God knows you created a beautiful little boy together. Let yourself grieve the loss of that, then you keep going, keep healing."
Michonne smiled, feeling better already. Her mother could read her like a book, so she always knew exactly what to say. As they often did these days, her thoughts drifted to Rick. She was starting to feel like he was put in her life for a reason. From the moment she met him, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He shared her pain and her regrets, but he also made her happy…happier than she'd been in a long time.
"I never thought I would be in this place, mommy, but things are getting better."
"Good, sweetie. I'm happy to hear it. I know you've been spending time with Rick, is he part of you getting better?" Anna inquired.
"My connection with Rick is helping, and we have more in common than I could have imagined."
"What does that mean?"
Michonne took a deep breath before answering, "Mommy…Rick also lost a child. His daughter was killed in a traffic accident a few years ago." Her mother's silence indicated she was fully digesting the information.
"Wow, sweetie. When did you find out?"
"A little while ago. It's complicated, but Rick is really struggling with forgiving the man responsible. He broke down in my living room and told me everything." A pang of sadness crept up as she recalled seeing Rick in such despair. She never wanted to see him that way again.
"Michonne, because I'm your mother and I'm worried about your recovery, I have to ask…are you sure it's a good idea to get involved with someone who is clearly working through his own tragedy?"
Michonne sighed, not surprised by her mother's concern. "Mom, I know what you're thinking. Rick isn't going to bring me down or get in the way of my recovery. We're helping each other. He understands what I'm going through, probably better than anyone else. We have honest conversations, and we allow each other to fall apart when we need to. I couldn't even do that with Ed."
"I know you want to feel connected to someone again, sweetie, but just make sure you're doing it for the right reasons, and make sure you're putting yourself first."
Michonne nodded as if her mother could see her. "I've never felt this way about anyone before, mom. I love being with him. There are no pretenses. I can just be," she sighed. "I want him in my life."
"If being with him makes you happy, if you're healing each other, then nurture that. Lean into your happiness, Michonne. I won't say another word about it," she joked.
Michonne chuckled, "I appreciate you, mommy. I really do. I promise, I'm taking care of me."
"You do that sweetheart, you do that."
As soon as Michonne hung up with her mother, she rushed over to Rick's house to share the news.
"Hey, you're home early, he said, gifting her with a strong embrace and tender kiss.
"Yeah, I wanted to make sure I got to the church early to help Tim and the others set up."
There it was, that name again. In the back of his mind, Rick had been thinking about this friend of hers ever since he heard her speaking to him on Thanksgiving. He was too afraid to ask for any details about this person, afraid of what he may find out.
He cleared his throat and sat down on his sofa. "I'm sure the kids are excited about their first showcase."
She joined him, trying to contain her smile. "Yes, they are…but I came over here to share some news with you."
He raised his eyebrows in curiosity, "Oh…what's up?"
"My divorce is final. I received the documentation today."
He wasn't expecting that. "Wow, okay. How do you feel?" he asked, rubbing his thumb across hers.
"I'm okay…relieved, I guess. I feel like it's the closure I need to really move on," she smiled.
Rick pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead. "I know it's probably bittersweet, but you deserve closure. After everything you've been through, you deserve to be happy," he reassured her.
She sat up to look him in the eyes. "Rick…you make me happy."
He kissed her and tucked a stray loc behind her ear. "You make me happy, too, sweetheart."
She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. "So, I'll see you tonight?"
He secretly wished he hadn't agreed to attend the showcase, still worried about what may be revealed. He had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it was growing by the minute. Still, he didn't want to let her down.
"Yeah, I'll be there." He kissed her again, hoping he wouldn't regret it.
Later that night…
Michonne looked around the room, ecstatic to see how many people had showed up for the event. There were small crowds surrounding each display. The kids looked nice, dressed in their finest attire, and eagerly explaining their vision behind every piece of artwork. A local catering company donated food and beverages, which served to make it a splendid occasion. Tim and Michonne worked the room, greeting the guests and switching out displays as needed.
"This is so awesome, Michonne," Tim proclaimed, taking a sip of sparkling cider. "I can't believe how great it's going."
"Believe it, my friend…and it's all thanks to your hard work," she added, patting him on the back. She was happy to see the gleam return to his eyes. He seemed better tonight, and he hadn't mentioned the kiss at all, which made her thankful.
"And yours," he reminded her. "I couldn't have done it without you." He smiled, thinking to himself how beautiful she looked in her gold-sequined, off-the-shoulder sheath dress and strappy gold heels. Her long locs were swept to the side, allowing him to admire the tiny stars adorning the back of her neck. "I never noticed these before," he said, running his fingers along them.
Michonne flinched. It was subtle, but he noticed and quickly dropped his hand.
"Oh…yeah. I don't like to limit art to a particular canvas," she nervously joked.
"Do you have anymore?" he asked, completely enamored with her, but not wanting to make her uncomfortable again.
"Yeah…I do," she smiled. "And that's all I'm saying."
They both laughed as Glenn and Maggie approached them, both looking great in coordinated attire, Maggie in a black wrap-dress and Glenn in a black suit. Michonne kissed them both on the cheek, grateful for their impeccable timing.
"Hello, I'm so happy you came! I want you to meet Tim Taylor, he's responsible for the youth program and is the mastermind behind this event. Tim, these are my friends, Glenn and Maggie."
Tim blushed, extending a handshake to both Glenn and Maggie. "Hi, it's a pleasure to meet you both…and I can't take all the credit for this, Michonne is a godsend."
Glenn and Maggie smiled at the young man's obvious adoration for Michonne. "This is really something! The pieces are amazing," Maggie beamed.
"Please feel free to open your checkbook and take something home," Tim encouraged.
Maggie eyed the tall young man. His wavy blonde hair was perfectly trimmed, and his hazel eyes sparkled. He was devilishly handsome, resembling a young Brad Pitt. She chuckled as she watched him watch Michonne. Her new friend certainly had an effect on men.
"I'll keep that in mind," she responded to Tim.
"Good. Can I get you two a drink?" he asked Glenn and Maggie.
Glenn nodded, "Yeah, we'll come with you and you can tell us more about the program."
A few minutes after they departed, Michonne was embraced by a pair of strong arms wrapping around her tiny waist. She didn't have to turn to see who they belonged to, the smell of Rick's cologne invading her senses as he held her tight and kissed the back of her neck, sending chills up her spine.
"Hey gorgeous, sorry I'm late," he whispered into her ear. The truth was he'd sat in his truck for 30 minutes, debating whether to turn back around, calling to tell her he didn't feel well or some other lame excuse. In the end, he decided that wouldn't be fair to her.
She turned slightly to offer him a chaste kiss. "It's okay. You're here now."
He turned her completely around to face him, his jaw dropping at how lovely she looked. "This dress looks amazing on you."
"You like it?" she asked, doing a little twirl.
"I love it," he reiterated, grasping her at the small of her back and kissing her again.
"Can I tell you something?" she asked, appreciating how appealing he looked in a dark charcoal suit, with his curls combed back. She ran her fingers over his neatly trimmed beard, relishing the feeling.
"You can tell me anything." He chuckled at her serious tone.
"Well…I love your everyday casual look, but every time I see you dressed up, it really does something to me." She whispered the last part in his ear, as if it were a naughty secret.
"Is that right?" he whispered back.
"Mm-hmm," she confirmed, resting her hand on his chest.
"Well, you can tell me more about that a little later," he grinned. "Count on it," she said, mirroring his cheeky grin.
"So, show me around. I'd love to meet some of the artists," he said, taking her by the hand.
"Of course, follow me."
Michonne and Rick were having a good time, chatting with some of the art students and other guests. She introduced him to Tameka and was quite certain the young woman had an instant crush by the way she kept batting her eyelashes at him, as he complimented her work. Michonne found it amusing how oblivious he was to his effect on the opposite sex.
She looked around to see if she could spot Glenn and Maggie, but they were nowhere to be found. She set her sights on locating Tim, anxious to introduce Rick to her partner in all of this. When she couldn't find him, she decided to take Rick to examine Tim's work. He provided only one item for the show, but it was an amazing piece of art.
"Come here, babe. I want to show you something," she said, leading Rick to the perimeter of the room where Tim's piece was located. He'd adapted one of his sketches into a breathtaking painting of a little girl, surrounded by angels. The little girl wore a baby blue dress with pink flowers in her flowing, auburn hair. Her brilliant emerald eyes stared into the clouds above as she ascended through the golden gates of Heaven. The piece was titled, In the Arms of Angels.
Rick examined the painting, the color draining from his face. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe. He inadvertently searched for something to grasp onto, his legs threatening to give way underneath him. He glared at Michonne, at a loss for words. Why would she do this?How could she ask me to come here? Did she not see it? The questions ran through his mind as he tried to make sense of why his daughter's face was staring back at him.
"Who painted this?" he asked, feeling like the world was closing in on him. That uneasy feeling he'd felt all day and for the past few weeks since the mention of that name, it radiated through him now, intense, and unrelenting.
"I did," Tim said, standing behind Rick and Michonne.
Rick turned around, coming face-to-face with the man he'd hated since the day his daughter died on that road.
Recognition registered on Tim's face; his suspicions instantly confirmed. Deputy Grimes was here to take his life. Perhaps that was the only way this would end, the only way he would ever truly be free.
Stay tuned…
