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Chapter X: Syndrome and Control
Rick swallows his water, and he is running out of words. Answering questions in an honest manner always drains him, and he often prefers to hold onto his emotions. However, he does not pay three hundred dollars an hour to talk about the weather.
Rick spreads his legs to feel any comfort. He closes his eyes to remember pieces of emotions swallowed by his anger, and Rick continues to relate his loss of control.
"I think with Carlton, my dad, it was a bit of everything. It never went away, and the week had been hectic. We had just buried Grandpa Richard, and Carlton was who he is always. I attempted containing myself…" Rick hesitates on how to continue.
"You did it for a week, I believe." Rick's therapist suggests.
"Yeah, it was hard, but I didn't have to deal with everythang. I only had to survive Carlton's hostility." Rick explains.
The sound of a pen scratching the paper fills the room. The silence helps Rick to follow a thread of thoughts. Rick's brain is a tangle of emotions.
"Everything?" The therapist halts his pen, and Rick ponders on the word.
Everything, Rick slightly rises from the couch. He needs to move, and so he leaves to pace back and forth.
"Yeah, Everything…" Rick repeats, and the words are profound and meaningful. "Jessie's harassment. I could hardly sleep. I did not want to sleep. I did not feel safe in my childhood home and room…well." He draws a deep breath, and he stops speaking all at once.
He does not want to touch the topic. The pen sits on the side of the carnet. Concerned eyes fall on Rick. The therapist gives Rick a minute to gather his thoughts.
"Did you relive your rape?" The therapist carefully uses the word.
"My rape?" Rick hesitates on the words, and he does not like the use of this word. "No, but I did not feel safe enough to sleep with my door locked."
"How about control, did you feel in control? I mean before you had your episode of anger." The therapist corrects.
Control is a recurrent thematic of their sessions. Rick obsesses over it since the incident with Jessie. He has a tight hold over his life. Rick is almost tyrannical in his quest of control.
"I tried to keep everything under control," Rick replies, and his muscles tense.
It is another difficult topic to explore, and Rick begins to tread faster. His thoughts continue to collide. His mouth is dry, and so he drinks more water.
"Were you successful?" The therapist purposely asks.
Rick returns to the couch. He begins to pick the thread on his jeans, and Rick needs to focus.
"I was not successful," He says with resentment. "I had to deal with some difficulties. I could not focus on what I needed to, and she…well, I had to react to the situation." Rick takes some distance, and he openly reflects on the circumstances.
"She? You were concentrating on someone." The pen begins to move again, and the conversation becomes intimidating.
"Michonne, my wife." Rick does not know how to call her.
"It is the same Michonne in some of your nightmares. She is your wife now." He asks.
"Grandpa forced us to get married," Rick explains with increasing uneasiness.
"Is it why you lost control? Your grandfather stole it from you, and it bothered you." The pen halts again, and Rick only nods, "If I remember the few conversations that we had about Michonne, you did not react well to it. You were upset with that article of the press. The one with the drug scandal."
"It's complicated," Rick mumbles, and he can't decide why the topic is a taboo.
"How complicated is it? Do you mind explaining?" The therapist scrutinises, and they are on a sensitive topic.
"Michonne is Michonne," Rick breathes the words, and his emotions are conflicted but compelling.
"What else?" The therapist insists.
"I don't know, and it's difficult to explain," Rick sighs, and he thinks about what to say, "I'm in love with her, and I have always been. I don't control that part of my life. It is chaotic. It is a bunch of emotions. She is my wife, and it happened to me. I…I… I have to…" He does not know how to finish his confession.
" You have to control the situation." Rick's therapist expertly finishes the sentence, "Do you feel like you need to control Michonne? I mean you feel like she has to fit in your tight circle of control. You love her, and she is a part of your life."
Rick demands a minute to form his opinions. Everything in Rick's life consists of the circle of restriction. He cherishes a controlled environment. He has a sexual life built around a need to dominate. Where does Michonne belong in Rick's life?
"I need to control her, but Michonne is very stubborn. She would not allow me to shackle her with demands. She does not fit in my circle of control." Rick admits, and he is afraid of such a lack of control.
"With your previous relationships, you did not commit to anyone out of your control. Does she know about your need for dominance in intimacy?" The therapist inquires.
Rick straightens his posture. He knows that he pays to bare his soul, but some topics require too much honesty.
"We have had sex once, and she is submissive. I don't feel threatened. When it happened, I needed control, and I was in control so far that I remember." Rick quickly brushes the topic.
"Does she know that you require submission in your intimacy? It is important for you to have established a dominant and a submissive. You have had a few problems in the past." The therapist adds.
"We are not intimate. We're married, but it is only on papers. We have not brushed the topic. We are settling into a kind of relationship, and it is tumultuous." Rick carefully utters the words.
"Tumultuous? Does it have to do with your lack of control over her?" He inquires, and he begins to write.
"Yes and No. I had to draw a court order to force her to live with me. She is legally required to move in my home." Rick states.
"Did you do it with the intent to control her?" The therapist asks.
"I asked her to move in with me. I did not act until she refused to see why it was in her best interest. She had a car accident, and her ex-boyfriend was driving. He has accused her of driving. He tried to have access to my wife. I took a second to think about it, and it was the best for her." Rick explains his reasoning.
Until his confrontation with Philip, Rick had no intention to force Michonne's hand. However, he cannot deny that he plays in his need for control.
"So jealousy? The ex-boyfriend is also the one involved in your second loss of control. Wasn't he present at the funeral? Which is the same night that you assaulted your father? Were you intimate with your wife that same night?" The question is rhetorical.
"Yeah," Rick reluctantly spit the words.
"And your father insulted Michonne before you lost your control?" He inquires to confirm what he previously noted.
"He pushed her and called her a whore?" Rick clarifies
"And so Carlton alluded to Michonne having sex with other men than you." The therapist lays the path for Rick to form a conclusion.
Rick scratches his head, and he cannot ignore his actions. He draws a deep breath.
"I'm violent in reaction to my jealousy and …" Rick concludes, and he has a difficult time realising the last part.
"You immediately perceive comfort in a way to tighten control over your wife." The therapist finishes for him.
Rick takes in the words, and his actions are in accord with his customary practices. Now, he wants Michonne as a part of his life. Instinctively, he will aim to make her fit in his life. As with anything, it means control. He had sex with Michonne to establish a power imbalance. Rick forced Michonne to live with him because it means more control.
Rick sighs, and he does not know how he always falls into that circle of vicious habit with Michonne. Even his purest intentions become perverse. Rick looks at his therapist, and he hesitates to express his vulnerability.
"I'm trying to be better," Rick sighs, and he does not want to pursue, "I'm genuinely trying to be better for her. The version of me that she loves must be somewhere under this mess, and I want to be that Rick. Though that Rick…" He draws a deep breath, "He lost her, and I don't want to lose Michonne. I want to fix what I fucked up, but this is fucked up, right?" Rick admits that he is going at it the only way that he knows.
"It is abusive at the least, and it is going to be toxic in the long term. Rick, you don't have to control every aspect of your life, and you don't have to control people." Rick's therapist points out.
"When I don't have control, it feels like that night. I don't feel safe, and I hate that feeling. I hate the fear, which follows. I can't snap out of the anger. Around my wife, it feels worst. I have the impression that she is going to slip from my fingers. She probably deserves someone more functional, and then I get mad because…" Rick stops to speak.
"Do you feel less of a man around Michonne?" The question is one, which Rick has started to probe.
Rick leans on the couch, and his knees are high enough to stand as a shield. He has the answer on the tip of his tongue.
"I don't need to be around Michonne to feel like less of a man. She makes it worse. She continues to view me with those eyes, and it reminds me that I'm never going to match her expectations. And so I get angry with her, with me, and I have to prove to the both of us that I' m a 'man'." He stutters through his reply.
"The violence, the jealousy, and does it help?" The therapist asks with quiet concern.
"On the spot, it does. I can't explain it, but it is comforting to be miserable with someone else. But after, I feel so shitty for putting her through that. I get angrier because she allows him to do it. Michonne is not a pushover unless she feels the need to be. I assure you that she always used to run the show. She wanted something, and I ran to do it. It did not matter how crazy it was." Rick fondly thinks about their youth, and he can pinpoint the shift in their relationship, "She is stroking my ego. It angers me more because it feels like pity. I gave her a chance to fight me. She could have asked her lawyer to look through a way to stop the court order. She did not. It's complicated. When she told that she was not forgiving me, I have never been happier. That Michonne is my Michonne."
"It does sound like she enables you. You stated that you drifted apart when you noticed that your feelings for her were not platonic. Do you think that as young as she was at the time she might have believed that she has to gratify you to fix the problem? The conversation, which you had ten years ago, was brutal and complex. She might still believe that you are going to leave for another ten years. In her approach, your wife is attempting to keep you." The therapist explains.
"It sounds like it's my fault again," Rick sighs, and he does not know how far he has broken them.
His therapist begins to write again on his carnet. Sometimes, Rick wonders what fills those pages. He imagines that it is not in his favour.
"What else is your fault?" The question follows a long silence.
"I shouldn't have taken that glass of wine." Rick begins to explain, "Jessie, well, I knew something was off with her. I mean she did not want to leave me alone, and I did not want a scene. It was Christmas Eve. I should not have." Rick breathes, and he fails to forgive himself.
"Or Jessie made the conscious decision to take advantage of you," Rick's therapist corrects, "Do you think that I could talk to your wife during our next session?"
"Why?" Rick is quickly suspicious, and it flows from protectiveness.
" It is evident that she has a lot of control over your emotions. You have not had any major incident in three years," Rick's therapist points out, and Rick cannot argue with the facts.
"If you are living together, she needs to be aware that some of your actions are traumatic responses, and other actions are yours alone. Michonne needs to understand that she does not have to coddle you, but she might need to help you." He continues to explain. "Your living arrangement might be beneficial in many ways, but it is precarious at best."
"It is imperative that you have a conversation with her. You need to stop using her guilt. Perhaps, you will able to decide on a couples' therapy." The therapist suggests.
Rick is usually willing to follow the process for his health.
"Will it make her happier?" Rick asks, and the fact that Michonne's happiness is the determinant factor of his decision speaks volume.
"Rick, did you use to play a protector role for Michonne?" Rick' therapist inquiries.
"When we were younger, I had to make sure that she was happy and safe," Rick replies without considering the impact of his role in Michonne's life.
"Are you trying to protect her from you now?" The question does not receive any immediate answers, "Is it why you subconsciously act in ways that will provoke her?"
"Maybe, I only want her to be happy." Rick genuinely answers, "I have a hard time finding the right way to go about it."
Sasha stares at her cousin, and she wonders if Michonne has an ounce of common sense. She rolls her eyes at every opportunity. She fails to understand Michonne's stance. After everything, Michonne only sounds naïve and too generous.
"I only need to know what is going on, and it means that I have to talk to Philip." Michonne re-explains her intentions to Sasha.
Sasha sighs, and she moves away from the door. She takes a spot on the couch, which Michonne now associates with her husband. Seeing another person sitting on it is an oddity. Rick's absence is odd. However, Michonne knows that she won't have another opportunity to execute her plan.
"What is not clear to you?" Sasha displays her exasperation, "What do think Philip is going to tell you besides as much bullshit as he can," She questions Michonne with uttermost seriousness.
"I don't know…" Michonne grows increasingly frustrated, "At least, he will tell me what happened during the accident. I have no memory passed Philip dragging me in his car."
Sasha stares at Michonne, and her cousin's statement is the reason why Michonne should stay away from her ex-boyfriend. Philip is nothing, but a narcissistic man.
"Look, that piece of shit is trying to pin manslaughter on your ass. You don't need to talk to him. What you need to do is to sit back while Shane handles the case." Sasha replies, and her statement implies that she does not intend to help Michonne with her folly.
Michonne remains silent for a few seconds, and she attempts to remember where she heard the name, which Sasha mentioned.
"Who is Shane?" Michonne inquires with a hint of confusion.
Sasha blinks, and she looks at Michonne with a concerned expression.
"Shane Walsh, your lawyer," Sasha announces with a chastising tone.
Michonne's confusion is tenfold worst. She sits, and the name of her so-called lawyer resonates with her memory. Rick's friend and she never liked him. Michonne sighs, and she does not know how to react. Richard Grimes junior appears to have decided to take full control of her life, and Michonne does not like it.
"I didn't hire him. I have a lawyer, and Andrea always handles my legal business." Michonne furiously states, "I didn't hire Rick's friend."
"Well, you need to thank anyone who did. The police have yet to knock at your door." Sasha deadpans, and she is a bit defensive "and Andrea is accumulating proofs that you have an alcohol problem. She asked me if I was willing to speak in court. She is defending Philip. Now, you can't stop pretending that you did not know this two were banging." She finishes with her usual lack of tact.
Michonne draws a deep breath, and she wonders why everyone takes her for a fool. Rick is taking full control of her life without requesting her opinion, nor does he tell her that she is a person of interest in manslaughter. Now, she learns that a supposed friend had an affair with her boyfriend.
"I didn't know, and she hates him," Michonne replies with dumbfounded tone.
"Mimi, you really didn't know?" Sasha questions and she begins to feel bad for her, "and I thought it was the reason why you moved on with Rick."
Michonne allows a little hysterical laugh to leave her lips. She thinks her chest is going to implode. Despite the pain, Michonne is not heartbroken over Philip's infidelity. She is only exhausted from being a fool.
"Move on with Rick?" She laughs again, and it sounds bitter and eerie. "Grandpa Richard didn't give us a choice. I had to marry Rick."
Sasha digests the information. She moves from the couch to Michonne's bed.
"Forced or not, it is the most lucid thing you did in years." Sasha states with confidence, "He cares for you, and it is more than what you asked of any of your boyfriends. It is more than you do for yourself. Mimi, I love you, but you have been a mess in the last years. This is a consequence of it, and you want to do what. You want to associate with Philip." She bluntly states.
Michonne sighs, and she feels misunderstood. She does not want anything with Philip, but she needs to understand what is going on around her. Rick is keeping her in the dark. She does not want him to exercise such amount of power over her life. She does not care if the intent is to protect her.
"You know what I will find a way to handle it," Michonne replies, and she no longer sees the need to pursue the conversation.
Sasha draws a deep breath, and she knows what Michonne means. Nothing good can come out of it.
"Look, you are leaving the hospital tomorrow. Why don't you focus on that? Philip wants nothing good for you. If he did, Andrea would not be building a case against you." Sasha softly adds, and she squeezes Michonne's hand.
"Oh joy, I have to move in with Rick Grimes."
Rick did not want to be back in king county so fast, but he did not have much of a choice. He turns toward Grandpa Morgan, and for a second, they are silent. Everything feels a bit ridiculous, but Carlton wants such a scene.
"Hopefully, your father will stop after this," Morgan whispers as his eyes fall on Carlton and a rather displeased Jessie.
"He can kiss his allowance goodbye when we're done." Rick replies with frustration and resentment, "why would he want to do that to grandpa." His eyes narrow on the grave where the digging has begun.
Morgan sighs, and he does not understand how much greed consumes his best friend's son. He cannot solely blame Jessie, and Carlton was not a very good man before marrying his younger wife.
"Carlton is who he is." Morgan summarises.
"Yeah," Rick agrees, and he glares at the pair, who silently stands by Carlton and Jessie.
"Don't be too hard on Maggie," Morgan follows Rick's line of sight, "She is being the good…" He stops mid-sentence.
"Daughter?" Rick challenges, and as he has begun to think of it, the cousin angle made no sense, "I suppose that she is his daughter born from one of his many mistresses." His resentment resurfaces.
"Not my place to say, and does it really matter now?" Morgan comments.
"It explains some of her actions. I can redistribute the anger, and well, Michonne…" Rick does not finish his statement.
The time is not right for a confession, and Rick only wants to be in town for a few hours. Opening that specific assortment of problems might start a new set of conflicts. The grave is now open, and the machine drags the coffin out. Rick sighs, and he feels his anger grow.
"Michonne," Morgan curiously asks, "Are you two still in that circle of vicious habits?" He adds with concern, "Rick, if it is not working between you, don't make each other miserable. You know how a miserable marriage ends, and I hope you care for Michonne enough to spare her."
Rick does not need a reminder of how badly his parents' marriage ended. His mother died alone while Carlton was between the legs of another woman.
"We're working on thangs," Rick hesitates, and Morgan's look demands the truth, "I'm working on thangs, and she is making me beg for her attention. You know it's complicated." He admits with a small smile.
"When isn't it with you two?" Morgan laughs, and he taps Rick's shoulders, "Give it your best, and maybe get it through your thick skull that she has not loved another man as she loves you. Therefore, you have to be careful with her. Now, if she is impossible, you remember your worth." He paternally advises, "You are allowed to fail at marriage even with your soulmate." Grandpa Morgan wisely adds.
"I will keep that in mind, grandpa." Rick says with a smirk, "but I don't want to fail this time. I'm not getting another chance after this."
"Seems like Richard was right, and you're shaping up already to be a better man. He would be happy that you're willing to give it everything." Morgan encourages Rick, "But I need you to do it right with Michonne. If you finally had sex with her, I think you are well aware that she is a woman," He pointedly stares at a blushing Rick.
"Grandpa Morgan, please, don't…" Rick pleads, and he wants the ground to swallow him.
"Chile, if you did not want everyone to know, you would not have made that much noise. Think about it the next time that you are in your childhood home with her grandfather on the floor above. I had a very similar conversation with her. I hope you both can be wiser out of it." Morgan pursues with amusement in his voice.
"Okay, can we talk about anything but my sexual life with your granddaughter?" Rick begs.
"I only wanted to say treat her as you would do a woman. It means you tell her the truth even if it is ugly. You don't have to protect her." Morgan expertly states, and he believes that it might be hard for Rick to make the transition from the past to this new situation.
"Maybe, it is going to take time for me to get used to it." Rick confesses, and he has begun to face his flaws, "baby steps."
The silence returns and they focus on the police officers dragging Grandpa Richard's coffin.
"I think now we have to wait for the autopsy," Morgan helplessly says.
The entire ordeal taints his best friend's memory. Everything feels pointless because Carlton's claims are false.
"I'm going back tonight, and you keep me updated," Rick replies while he begins to head out of the cemetery.
Rick sighs as he reads one of Shane's messages. He promises himself to reply as soon as he is far from the ranch. He only has to look into some of the paperwork for the succession, and grandpa Morgan has efficiently begun the transition. Rick has to sign some papers.
He attempts to be comfortable in his grandfather's office, but Richard senior has left big shoes to fill. Rick does not think that he deserves to sit in that chair where he used to pretend to be a man as an excited kid. For a few seconds, he stares at the desk. Many family pictures crowd the table, and most of them depict summer vacation at the ranch.
He looks through most of the pictures, and Rick easily remembers a better time. He continues to look for one, which he knows grandpa Richard loved. A knock at the door distracts Rick. He sighs, and he goes to open it.
"Hello," she hesitantly says.
"Hi, Maggie?" Rick replies, and he has to quiet the hostility in his voice. "How can I help you?"
Rick's voice carries the rawness of his emotions. He does not want to expand on any topics with a woman who might supposedly be his sister.
"You're mad," She uses the very innocent tone that always made her above his wrath.
However, Rick is far from the man who he used to be. He crosses his arms, and he ponders on the direction this conversation might take.
"I have thousands of reason to be mad, but don't worry, I have no desire to have that conversation with you or anyone," Rick replies, and he waits for Maggie to get the message.
She does not leave as Rick expected. She moves inside the room, and she picks one of the pictures on the table. She shows it to Rick, and it is a young Michonne missing a tooth. She is smiling brightly. Maggie picks another picture, and it is Rick and Michonne asleep by the Christmas tree. She picks more frame until she finds one where she is on the picture.
"Michonne is not even his granddaughter, but she is on more pictures of this family than I am." Maggie sighs, and she grabs another picture, "Look, it seems it finally happened. Michonne is Mrs Grimes. It is no longer just a picture." She continues to speak.
Rick stares at Maggie, and it is easy to notice resentment. If he is right about his theory, she might feel as if Michonne stole her spot.
"No one competed with Michonne at grandpa's eyes. She was his favourite, and it did not change how he loved everyone else. That includes you." Rick states, and he does not want to have any form of conversation with Maggie.
"Well, she gets everything, right?" Maggie bitterly laughs. "Her dream husband, the family heirloom, and the family fortune. Yet, this is not her family. Make it make sense," she demands an explanation from Rick.
"She did not ask for it. As far as I know, I willingly married Michonne. The part of the company that she owns belongs to her grandfather. Grandpa Morgan was more family to grandpa than anyone was. It is Grimes and Jones. As far as I am concerned, Michonne only has what was already hers. I included." Rick replies with convictions, "If it is what has motivated you to contest the will, I don't know what to tell you besides that jealousy do not become you. You got what you deserved, and grandpa made sure that I had to see through your needs. What do you need more? A company that you can't run? Carlton's recognition? You will be a fool from running after that, but again, it might be genetic. Like father; like daughter." Rick finishes without an ounce of care for how hurtful he might be.
Maggie swallows her nerves for a second. She stutters, and her reaction is the confirmation, which Rick needed.
"What are you talking about, Rick?" Maggie feigns the confusion.
"Whatever, it matters little. I want very little to do with you or Carlton. Rest assured that you will continue to receive your monthly allowance. That money, which you get from only being from the family. If you ever feel like questioning your position in this family, remember you have not worked a day in your life. Yet, you live in luxury." Rick's words are sharp knives.
"You did not even want her," Maggie says, and Rick does not know why she obsesses on Michonne, "You were busy playing the big brother in her life, but you did not even like her." Her bitterness poisons every word.
Rick sighs, and he does not have time for this. The race at Grandpa Richard inheritance has unearthed the hypocrisy. The ugliness is roaring.
"Does it matter now? I assure you she did not drag me to the altar," Rick repeats to force the reality into Maggie.
"She told uncle Carlton about what happened at Christmas Eve. I heard it all what uncle Carlton told you. It all happened because of Michonne. She knew how he would react. She wanted you out of the house. Why don't you hate her? She broke our family." Maggie says with eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Rick stares at Maggie, and it is her words against Michonne's ones. One look suffices, and Rick does not need more to tell who was sincere. Not once Michonne attempted to throw Maggie under the bus.
"Michonne told you," Rick states with frustration, "She trusted you with it because she thought you were her best friend. As I said, I want little to do with you or Carlton." Rick emphasizes his last words.
"Don't you see what she is doing?" Maggie asks, and the tears begin to drench her face, "She is trying to make you hate everyone but her. She always did want you for her own."
"Get out, now." Rick grabs Maggie's arm, and he throws her out of the office.
Hi, Michonne sends the message, and she stares at the door.
Sasha has left for a minute, and Michonne has decided to use the opportunity to execute her plan. She does not focus on what her doctor tells her.
"So your husband has said that you have not been sexually active in the last couple of weeks." He questions.
Michonne stares at her phone, and she misses the entirety of the question.
"Mrs Grimes," Michonne's doctor insists.
"Sorry," Michonne looks away from her phone, "I'm sorry I did not catch the question."
"No problem, I asked about your sexual activity in the last couple of weeks, and we had your second blood test. All your results are normal. Your hormones are all those of a healthy individual. We might have had a false positive…" Michonne loses the rest of the conversation while her phone begins to blink.
It was time. We have a lot to talk about now. She reads with curiosity.
"Mrs Grimes?" Her doctor says to gain her attention.
"I heard everything is normal. Thank you, doctor." Michonne says with a polite smile.
"Okay and so you confirm your husband claim." The doctor insists for the third time.
"I do," Michonne agrees without thinking to ask about those claim, "Do I have to answer more question?"
"No, you clear my doubts about your beta hCG. Definitely, a false positive. There is nothing to worry about, and we will release you tomorrow." He adds with a smile, and Michonne has cleared any doubt about her miscarriage.
"Thank you," she says as he walks out of the room.
What did you want the other time? Michonne quickly sends the message, and she continues to worry about Sasha returns.
To talk to you and I still need to talk to you, baby. Philip replies. This shit is serious.
I was not driving. Michonne sends her message.
No one else knows that, and we need to talk about that. Are you going to talk to me or not? The message carries an aggressive undertone.
Michonne is about to reply when the door opens. Sasha walks in with a cup of hot coffee, and she has another one of hibiscus tea for Michonne.
"Here, and tell Rick to stop texting me about pillows or adding slices of lime to your tea," Sasha announces with frustration as she passes the cup to Michonne.
Michonne shoves her phone between her legs. She stops the call before it goes through. She takes the tea, and she blows on the top to cool it down.
"Rick is infernal," Michonne sighs, but she is thankful for the lime in her tea.
"He needs a reminder that I am your assistant. I know what you like better than he does," Sasha complains.
Michonne laughs, and she would agree with Sasha if she had put these lime slices in her last tea.
"Good luck with that," Michonne replies.
"The vote of confidence," Sasha laughs, "It is a good thing you are moving with him. I'm not dealing with this harassment every day. Why doesn't he call you to ask how you feel every second?" She goes through her phone to show the number of call in three hours.
Michonne rolls her eyes, and she takes a big sip of her tea.
"I' m not picking his calls, and from what I hear it is a good decision," Michonne replies.
Sasha is about to speak when her phone rings, and she sighs with a glance at the caller.
"I swear Rick if you ask me if I gave her more pillows, I will blacklist your numbers," Sasha utters each word with frustration. "She pays me to watch over her, and yes, I know that." The exhaustion in Sasha's voice is growing, "Michonne, tell him to stop." Sasha shoves the phone to Michonne's ear.
"Richard, bye." Michonne hangs up, and she returns the phone to Sasha.
Rick shoves his phone in his pocket, and he needs to stop worrying about Michonne. She is not going to have a second accident in the hospital, nor is she going to die if there are no limes in her tea.
He places his phone on the sink, and he begins to remove his clothes. His flight home is later at night, and Rick intends to take a bath before heading at the airport. He thinks about calling again, but his conversation with his therapist weights on his mind.
Rick sighs, and he runs his shower. He needs a few minutes to think. He is not sure of his decision to live with Michonne. He needs to be in control of his environment, and yet, he has established how dangerous his controlling behaviours are.
The sound of the flowing water covers the click of the door. Rick has his forehead resting on the shower wall, and he does not notice the person invading his privacy until she speaks.
"You don't mind if I join you," Jessie purrs.
Rick abruptly turns to face his stepmother as she begins to disrobe. For a second, he freezes. His entire muscle tenses and he drowns in anxiety. He watches her begin to move, and Rick's body is out of his control. He merely dodges when she reaches for him. He begs himself to step out of the terror. His brain is bombarding him with images of Jessie whispering sweet nothing while she completely ignores his shouts.
Jessie presses her lips to his, and Rick finally slips out of his trance. His muscles almost feel weak. Her hands are all over him, and he feels his throat constricts. With as much strength as he can, Rick pushes Jessie.
"Don't touch me," Rick hurls, and his anger and disgust with Jessie and himself paralyse him.
Jessie rises from the floor, and she appears completely unbothered by Rick's reaction.
"Stop pretending, Rick." She cajoles, "I know you miss us."
Rick grabs a towel, and he covers his nakedness.
"You're insane, Jessica." He struggles with his words, and anxiety consumes Rick's mind. "Get out," He commands.
Jessie reaches for Rick's hand, and she forcefully presses his hand on her pussy. A moan crawls out of her lips.
"You see how wet I am for you," She moans, "Rick, please. We can be together now."
Rick draws a deep breath, and he snatches his hand away from Jessie. His body is trembling, and he feels stuck in a loop of Christmas Eve. His actions are instinctive. Rick grabs Jessie by the arm, and he picks her clothes, which she discarded on the floor. He drags her with bruising strength out of his room. He throws her into the corridor with her clothes.
"Stay the fuck away from me," Rick commands.
He does not glance at Jessie, and he does not care for the insanities, which she begins to spew out of her mouth. Rick locks the door with trembling hands, and he sinks to the floor. His mind feels like he has not left that night. Michonne's eyes are on him. Jessie is moaning above him, and she is telling him that he wants her. He feels her hands over him. Rick cannot stop the thought, and he drags his knees to his chest to form a shield against his thoughts.
Michonne stares at Rick, and she cannot explain his change in demeanour. He puts her suitcase in the car, and he has not spared her a word since he arrived. She does not miss the bag under his eyes.
"Rick?" Michonne asks when the silence becomes unbearable.
Rick fails to regain a form of control, and he practically fled the ranch after the incident with Jessie. He has toyed with the idea to draw divorce papers and give it to Michonne. After last night, he became evident that he is not a fraction of the man, who he should be to win Michonne's back. His demons overwhelm him.
"Do you need anything?" He asks without really caring for the answer, and Rick attempts to focus on anything but the oppressive thoughts of Jessie's touching him.
"A conversation," She replies with sarcasm.
Rick's emotions are beyond his control. He looks at Michonne, and he almost snaps at her. He draws a deep breath.
"Do you want it for now?" Rick feigns nonchalance, and he tells himself to hold onto his emotions.
"Oh, do I have to give you a day notice?" Michonne's words drip with sarcasm, and she is slightly nervous. "Do I need a court order too?" She does not intend the sharpness of her voice, but it echoes above the humour.
Rick sighs, and she is making it harder for him. Does she only know how hard he is trying? Does she how broken he feels? Does Michonne understand how his past weight on any progress of their relationship?
"Fuck you, Michonne." Rick gives in to his feeling of frustration.
Rick immediately regrets the outburst, but he can admit that he has a minute of satisfaction. Michonne stares at Rick, and she gears for a fight.
"I'm sorry…" Rick breathes the words, and he rushes the apology, "I don't want to be an ass tonight. Can we save that conversation for any other day?" He pleads with Michonne, and he does not want to ruin everything.
Despite his best effort, Rick won't hesitate to be the worse version of himself to quiet his thoughts. Obviously, he is doing an amazing job ruining all his chance to correct his mistakes.
"You know this is not trying," Michonne expresses her frustration, "This is you being a piece of shit. A controlling piece of shit." She adds with resentment, and Michonne has to convince herself to be unforgivable with Rick.
"Thanks for your insights, Mimi." Rick deadpans. "Do you want to go on, or do you need my help to list how very up I am messed?" He adds with the intention to lengthen the argument.
Michonne glares at Rick, and she searches for the right words. She draws a deep breath. How is she going to live with this man? Despite her reluctance, she has allowed a piece of hope to cling onto her.
"What is wrong with you?" She settles for a reasonable conversation.
"I'm fine," Rick dismissively replies, and he does not bother to look at Michonne.
"Trying my ass," Michonne mumbles, and even against her best interest, she almost believed Rick.
"You're absolutely right. I'm struggling, I'm biting my tongue, and I'm trying not to snap at you for something that you haven't done." Rick sighs, and he parks his car in the basement of his apartment complex.
Michonne rolls her eyes, and she has no idea how truthful he is being with her. Rick draws a deep breath, and he leaves the car. Michonne watches him pace, and his emotional turmoil is evident.
"Rick?" Michonne softly says, and it only adds to Rick's frustration.
She reaches for him, and he dodges her hand. He is not ready for any form of intimate contact. His muscles tense at the idea of a simple touch.
"Don't touch me," His abrasiveness is involuntary, and he regrets it with no intention to take it back. "You don't get it. You really don't get it how much I just want to tell you to fuck off and hand you those damn divorce papers. This is me trying. This is me telling you to give a minute to get it together. And if you still fucking want a conversation, we can have a Guinness world record longest conversation." Rick corrects his tone.
Michonne does not know what he expects from her. She leans against Rick's car. She can tell that he is flirting with the edge of sanity. She extends her hand, and Michonne instinctively does it. Rick stares at her delicate fingers, and he slips his fingers between hers.
"I'm trying…"