[MJ Fanfiction] Collide

CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT - READY

A/N: Here we go, guys! This is the last chapter before the epilogue! Even though this is not the end for this story as a sequel is coming right after the end of this book, I can't help but feel nostalgic. I remember when I started this story, I was so unsure about the outcome, and if you guys would love it or not, but you've shown me enormous support through the years, and I cannot thank you enough. I hope you'll follow me to the next adventure that is the sequel! Your comments and votes mean a lot to me. You truly are the best readers ever, thank you <3

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I wiped off my sweaty forehead as I put the brush back in the green paint bucket as I finished painting the walls that used to be the laundry room. My overall was stained with color coating, just like my hands and arms, but I couldn't care less: I was satisfied with the result. Since I had time on my hands, I kept my mind busy by converting the old room into Faraji's new room.

A week had passed since I lost my job, and I had a hard time coping with the fact that I wasn't a doctor at Ronald Reagan Hospital anymore. But Faraji was getting better since I last treated him, and this was the only thing I was able to find comfort in. Since his heart was still fragile, the little one had to stay under observation at the hospital, and as hard as it was for me, I tried to visit him each and every single day.

The child protection service social worker came by the loft a couple of days before, and time had never felt so long before. Naturally, she had a lot of questions concerning the number of people who lived at the loft: Carl had been my roommate for over a year, and ever since they got back together with Alice, she practically lived there too. She questioned my past, and my personal life in general, too, which I expected. The only thing I lied about was my job. I didn't mention the fact that I was unemployed to her, as I hoped Baker would take me back at some point. Of course, it wasn't a pleasant moment, because the more I talked, the more I had this feeling that my life was a giant complicated mess. I just prayed that she saw right through me, and understood that I'd be a great guardian to Faraji.

The ringing of the phone in the kitchen tore me away from my thoughts, and I immediately ran to it, hoping it would be Michael on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Um, hello, is this Ayma?" a man with a strong southern accent asked.

"Ayma? No, sir, I'm sorry. You probably got the wrong number."

"Isn't this Mrs. Dommy?" the man insisted, and I frowned.

"No sir, my name is Hayley Thames. There's no Ayma Dommy he— wait," I stopped in the middle of my sentence when I realized I had been fooled. Before I could even say anything, this oh-so-recognizable laughter was heard on the other end of the phone, and a wide grin appeared on my face. "Michael! Oh my God, I should have known from the start it was you! 'I'm a dummy', really?"

"This was my best prank call, and by far," he laughed some more, and I could hear Bill's laughter in the back as well. "I'm sorry Tickles, I had to."