Unspoken Love

Chapter 2

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The problem with making a decision is sometimes we're not sure we should have chosen this particular path. Self doubt is its own curse.

Michael had a moment when everything felt painfully surreal, as Salma left for the bathroom to call her sister, kissing the side of his head in excitement as she passed, her smile bright. He didn't blame her for her enthusiasm. Getting away from an abuser was a liberating, terrifying experience, even for someone as realistic and tough as Salma.

She'd made it as far as Roswell, with no way of getting to Colorado easily. The bus was an option, but having someone willing to make the effort to get you somewhere safe, when your abusive partner was likely waiting at the bus station, was something big.

As he had left so many abusers behind, he understood there was this period where you were looking over your shoulder, half-surprised you weren't in the ground. It was morbid and restrictive, but eventually you were able to see that the path going forward was there and that was the most liberating thing of all. The biggest example for him was the day he quit his most abusive foster; Witmore's house and started living out of his truck. Painful but no matter how hard life got after that, he woke every morning free and went to sleep not fearing it was gonna be his last night alive.

It was different with an abusive partner he was sure. He'd lived in an domestically abusive home many times. Seen the violence up close and personal. Been the target of that violence too. He had his own perspective on that and with people like Alex as well. When a house was a war front and you, the collateral or the enemy. But having someone you loved once as a partner, or still love, try and destroy you....it was an unthinkable shattering of a bond that left you a wreck trying to survive. Knowing that person was perfectly happy hunting you down and ending your life....

To imagine someone he loved like Maria deciding to just put a shotgun round in his chest... or worse, someone so integral to his life, literally the love of his life Alex, hating him enough to hunt him down and kill him like Salma's husband....?

He couldn't imagine it, but he still shuddered.

Maybe on Oasis they were beyond domestic violence. Maybe it was unthinkable there and people were safer. Maybe there were no children who knew how to conceal bruises at school and who didn't know sexual or physical violence. Have never seen their mother punched and kicked.

As Pat Benatar said, Hell is for Children.

Maybe that was a pipe dream. Noah had said their people were torn to pieces by a war. If the lying piece of shit was telling the truth at any point.

The least he could do, for the person he had cared for a lot when he was nineteen, and the person who had saved his life, was drive her to sister's place. He would be able to sleep at night knowing Salma was safe and with people who loved her.

So he let Salma have her moment and was genuinely pleased she was happy.

The bar wasn't at its loudest or rowdiest, but the noise and the closeness of the bar wore on his nerves. The proximity of Alex and the judgemental stare leveled at his head by Maria, their combined interest and worry - bit at him.

Because he couldn't understand why.

Why were they so interested in him sitting at a table with a beautiful woman, having a beer?

He was trying to be understanding, trying to be a better man, a better friend. He had forced himself to respect the distance, the discordant tone to their interactions. Both with Maria and with Alex.

He loved Alex. Always had since some undefined day when that feeling just appeared when he was seventeen and never left. Always would too. Until the day he finally left this planet. The fatal, permanent way.