Michaels Mess - 1. Chapter 1

As I walked away from the house where I grew up—where I lost myself—I didn’t dare look back.

The memories of childhood had always seemed happy, but now I questioned their truth. Had I been manipulated all along? The answers didn’t matter anymore; even if I got them, how could I trust them?

I had to leave. I had to start over. I had to find out who I was, away from the suffocating control of my parents. Yes, I had lost Sarah, Shawn, Samantha, and the child I’d never met. I had lost everything, but the deepest loss was myself.

The Uber ride to the airport felt endless. My thoughts churned—what did the future hold? Would I ever get the chance to see Sarah, to apologize, to meet the children? Sarah had made it clear she wanted nothing from me, and I couldn’t blame her. After what I’d done, why would she?

The car pulled up at the terminal, and I grabbed my small bag, the ticket in my pocket feeling heavier than it should. I approached the counter, presenting my ID and ticket to the agent.

“Mr. Evans, it says you’re a Platinum Member. You can check in at the Premium counter just down there. Oh, and you qualify for a complimentary upgrade,” she said with a smile.

I’d forgotten about the points. They’d been saved for trips Sarah and I planned to take with the kids. But now, like everything else, those plans were ashes.

“Oh, right. Thank you,” I mumbled, heading to the Premium check-in counter.

The agent there was efficient and polite, her tone professional but warm. “Would you like to upgrade to Premium today, Mr. Evans? It includes lounge access.”

“Sure,” I said quietly, my voice barely carrying over the bustle of the terminal.

“Any luggage to check in?” asked the ticket agent.

“No, just carry-on,” I replied, still in a daze, feeling the weight of leaving everyone—and everything—I knew behind.

The process was quick. She handed me my boarding pass, flashing a practiced smile. “Your flight leaves in three hours. Please enjoy the Premium Lounge—our recent renovations have made it better than ever.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, walking toward security.

I moved through security with ease, the agents recognizing me from my frequent travels. Though I still had to go through the usual steps, they made it much easier, and it helped that I was prepared. Still in a daze, I walked toward the Premium Lounge. It would give me a moment to sit down, catch my breath, and try to calm myself. The weight of what I was doing still hadn’t fully sunk in.

Once inside the lounge, I grabbed a small plate of food and a glass of wine, choosing a quiet corner to sit. The chair was plush, the atmosphere serene. It felt undeserved. The wine tasted hollow.

I pulled out my phone, hesitating before opening the black book app. My thumb hovered over it, my chest tight with guilt. Each name was a betrayal, each face a symbol of what I’d destroyed. Slowly, one by one, I deleted them. Each deletion felt like a small weight lifting, though it couldn’t erase the damage.

When every name was removed, I hesitated. Then, in one motion, I deleted it entirely.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut: I should have done this years ago. Back when Sarah still looked at me with trust. Back when the kids still thought I was their hero. Back before I let everything unravel.

I stared out at the runway, the planes coming and going, and gripped the glass of wine tighter. The opulence around me was a cruel reminder of what I’d thrown away. A ticket, my laptop and a carry-on bag with what remained of my possessions—that was all I had now. But maybe, just maybe, it was enough to start over.

I didn’t know what I’d find when I landed. I didn’t know if I’d ever make things right with Sarah or the kids. But for the first time in years, I felt a sliver of something I thought I’d lost: resolve.

I must have fallen asleep. A gentle nudge on my shoulder woke me, and I opened my eyes to see the lounge attendant standing over me.

“Mr. Evans, your flight has boarded, and they’re waiting for you,” she said politely, her tone soft but urgent.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumbled, startled. “I must have dozed off.” Quickly, I grabbed my bag, double-checked that my boarding pass was in my pocket, and hurried out of the lounge, offering a sheepish smile as I passed her.

I ran to the gate, my heart pounding—not just from rushing but from the weight of everything I was carrying inside me. When I arrived, I handed my boarding pass to yet another smiling agent, who scanned it and waved me down the ramp. Their cheerfulness was almost unbearable. I knew they didn’t know what I had done or the man I had been, but the shame inside me roared louder than any jet engine.

Stepping onto the plane, I handed my boarding pass to one of the flight attendants, who directed me to my seat with a bright smile. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Evans.”

I nodded, avoiding eye contact, and made my way down the aisle. The soft leather seat in Premium Class was as inviting as ever, cradling me in its comfort. I placed my carry-on in the overhead bin and sank into my seat. The cabin buzzed with the sounds of travelers settling in, but my mind was elsewhere.

I couldn’t help but think of the last time I flew, back when Andre was by my side. It felt like another lifetime. The memory stung, not just because of how it ended, but because I had tried to reconnect with him recently. He wanted nothing to do with me, and I couldn’t blame him. I was poison—radioactive, even. Everyone I touched was worse off for it.

The captain’s voice broke through the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Flight AA2145 to New York City. Our flight time is approximately five hours…”

I tuned out the rest of the announcement. I’d heard it a hundred times before, back when I traveled for work. It felt surreal to be here now, stripped of the status and power that had once defined me.

As the plane ascended into the clouds, the flight attendants began their service. One approached me with a warm smile, offering a choice of meals. I selected the chicken with rice, paired with a glass of white wine. The food was fine—far better than anything I’d had in years—but I barely tasted it.

After the meal, the same attendant handed me a blanket. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need, Mr. Evans,” she said kindly.

“Thank you,” I replied, forcing a faint smile. I wrapped the blanket around me, leaned back, and closed my eyes. The hum of the engines was soothing, and exhaustion from the emotional toll of the last few days finally overtook me.

I drifted into an uneasy sleep, plagued by fragmented dreams of the life I’d destroyed. Faces flashed through my mind—Sarah, Shawn, Samantha, and the child I’d never met. They were always just out of reach.

A gentle shake on my shoulder woke me again. The attendant smiled down at me. “We’re beginning our descent, Mr. Evans. I’ll need to collect your blanket.”

I nodded groggily, handing it over, and adjusted my seat. The captain’s voice came over the intercom, announcing our imminent arrival in New York. I peered out of the window as the city lights came into view, twinkling like a million little reminders of the life I once had.

It would be past midnight by the time I cleared the airport. I’d need to find somewhere to stay, though nothing could compare to the places I used to frequent. Back then, I didn’t think twice about booking the best rooms in the city, like that trip with Ryan.

Ryan. I hadn’t thought about him in years. I wondered if he and Nate had patched things up, if they were happy now. I hoped they were. They deserved it, after all the pain I had caused.

The plane touched down with a soft thud, and as we taxied to the gate, I took a deep breath. A new chapter awaited me here. For the first time in years, I felt a flicker of something resembling hope. Not for redemption—perhaps that was too much to ask—but for the chance to become someone better.

As I stepped off the plane and made my way toward the exit, the lack of luggage made my path quicker but lonelier. No familiar faces waiting for me. No kids to run up and greet me. Just the hum of travelers and the distant murmur of announcements.

I found a small table near the airport’s food court and pulled out my phone, scrolling through listings for a place to stay. A cheap hotel? An Airbnb? That was all I could manage now. After nearly thirty minutes of searching, I finally settled on a modest room in Queens—far from the bustling heart of the city I once conquered. The price was right, and that was all that mattered. I booked it and ordered an Uber.

The car arrived quickly. I slid into the back seat and gave the driver the destination. He nodded silently and started driving.

Good. No small talk. I didn’t have it in me to pretend everything was fine.

The city rolled past the window like a ghost of a life I’d once lived. Bright lights. Buzzing streets. I couldn’t stop the memories from surfacing, uninvited and raw. The last time I was here, Ryan was by my side. Sarah had decided to surprise me. I still don’t know how I dodged that bullet. I wasn’t clever—just lucky. But what did luck get me? A few more weeks of denial before the truth unraveled everything.

What’s the point of thinking about it? I can’t undo the past. I can only try to be a better man.

The Uber pulled up to the Airbnb after about thirty minutes. A modest house on a quiet street, nothing fancy. Just the basics. I stepped out, grabbed my bag, and thanked the driver before heading to the door. As I let myself in, I couldn’t help but pause in the entryway.

It was simple, but it reminded me of something I hadn’t thought about in years—my old home.

I closed my eyes, and for a moment, I was back there. I could see Shawn running around the house, his laughter echoing through the halls. Samantha would run up to me, her tiny arms reaching out, begging me to pick her up as she excitedly rattled off the latest adventures she and Shawn had dreamed up. I’d lift her into my arms, feeling her small hands grip my collar, her warmth pressing against me as she chatted away.

And then there’d be Sarah, her voice calling out from the kitchen, her tone equal parts exasperated and amused. The nanny would appear moments later, apologizing as she reached for Samantha to let me settle in.

It wasn’t just a memory—it was a dream. A life I destroyed.

My chest tightened as I opened my eyes and stepped further into the Airbnb. The silence felt deafening. The absence of Shawn’s giggles, Samantha’s squeals, Sarah’s steady voice—it all hit me.

I lowered myself onto the edge of the couch, my hands trembling slightly as I gripped the strap of my bag. What I wouldn’t give to have that again. Not the house or the money—just them. Just the feeling of belonging somewhere. Of being wanted. Of being loved.

But that was gone now, and I had no one to blame but myself.

I closed my eyes again, this time to hold back the tears threatening to spill. I didn’t deserve their forgiveness. I didn’t deserve a second chance. But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try to earn it.

I needed sleep, desperately. The long flight, the stress, the time difference—it all weighed on me like a lead blanket. Tomorrow would be a new day, or at least that’s what I kept telling myself. I’d have to find work, any work. I’d do whatever it took.

Sleep didn’t come easy. It never did. Whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see was the life I destroyed. The laughter of Shawn and Samantha, Sarah’s voice calling out, the child I had never even met. It wasn’t guilt that kept me awake—it was regret. I’d built a kingdom of lies and burned it to the ground with my own hands. Now, in the ashes, I was left to find a way forward.

Eventually, exhaustion took over.

That night, I had the same nightmare I’d been having for years. Sarah standing at the edge of a cliff, holding the twins. I’m running toward her, shouting, but she can’t hear me. Ryan and Nate stand between us, shaking their heads. The ground beneath my feet gives way, and I fall, endlessly. I wake up every time, drenched in sweat, heart pounding.

I rolled over, pulling the blanket tight around me, but sleep wouldn’t come easily. The images of that cliff, of Sarah and the kids, lingered in my mind. With a sigh, I closed my eyes again, hoping the restless sleep I had just found wouldn’t slip away too quickly. But even as I drifted back to sleep, I felt more exhausted, more drained than I had before.

The next morning, my stomach growled loudly, demanding attention. I had to head out—find food, find work, figure out how to piece my life back together. Airbnb wasn’t a permanent solution, and I didn’t have the luxury of spending recklessly. I pulled out my laptop, scouring job boards and rental listings. Marketplace had hundreds of ads for rooms to rent, but most were overpriced or far from the city. Then, one caught my eye—affordable, decent-sized, seemed to be in a good neighborhood. It seemed too good to be true, but I dialed the number anyway.

“Hello?” said a man's voice on the other end.

“Hi, my name is Michael. I saw your ad for a room for rent?”

“Yeah. Rent’s $1,200 a month. Covers everything. No parking, but you get internet. It’s a decent-sized room with its own bathroom. You’d need to handle your own meals, though… yadda, yadda, yadda…”

Yadda, yadda, yadda??? Anyway, he sounded friendly enough with a slight accent that I couldn’t place, but this was New York people from around the world come here. “Sounds good. Can I come by to see it?”

“Sure. Can you stop by today?”

“Yeah, I can. What’s the address? And your name?”

“Name’s David. I’ll text you the address.”

“But you don’t have my number.”

“Umm… you’re calling on a cell phone, right? I have your number” he replied with a chuckle.

Of course, he would have my number.

“Oh yeah, right. OK, I’ll be there in about an hour.”

As soon as I hung up, my phone buzzed again with his address.

I ordered an Uber and as soon as it arrived, set off, gripping my phone tightly. As the car weaved through the city, memories of my past crept in. The last time I was in New York, Ryan was with me. Sarah had surprised me, and somehow I had managed to avoid being caught. I dodged a bullet only to face a firing squad weeks later. It was a painful lesson I’d learned too late—there’s no escaping the truth.

The Uber pulled up in front of the apartment building. It was old but well-maintained, nestled in a neighborhood that reminded me of the first apartment Sarah and I had rented. Those were simpler times, but also the beginning of everything unraveling—losing my first job, moving in with my parents, Sarah’s illness.

I shook off the memories and rang the buzzer.

“Hello?” a voice crackled through the intercom.

“This is Michael. I spoke to you about the room?”

“Oh, yeah. Come on up. 240 - so second floor.” The door clicked open, and I stepped into the foyer. The smell of home-cooked meals filled the air, a patchwork of spices and warmth. The stairs creaked as I climbed to the second floor, where I knocked on the door labeled 240.

David opened the door, a lean man with sharp features and an easy smile. “You’re Michael?”

“That’s me.”

“Cool. Come on in. Shoes off, though—it’s an Asian thing. Hope you don’t mind.”

I hesitated, but nodded. “Sure. No problem.”

“You can use the rabbit slippers… kinda don’t like people walking around in socks either.” said David. “I’m also a bit of a clean freak, just so you know. Anyway, let me show you around.”

David gave me a quick tour. The place was small but clean, functional. I didn’t pay much attention to the details—I just needed a roof over my head. After showing me the place, he turned to me.

“So, what do you think? Rent’s due at the end of the month, cash only. Landlord’s old-fashioned. You got a job?”

“Not yet. I just moved here from LA. But I can pay rent—I can give you three months upfront if you’d like.”

David raised an eyebrow. “Three months upfront, huh? Okay. You’re not gonna squat here or something, are you? Like, no random strangers showing up?”

“No, nothing like that. I just need a fresh start.”

He studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. You seem trustworthy. Place is yours. You’ll need to get furniture, though. I’m not supplying that.”

“I’ll take care of it,” I said.

He handed me a lease agreement. “Here, read this. It’s pretty straightforward. Pay rent on time, no crazy parties, and, uh… extracurricular activities should be, you know, private. There is a lock on your door, so yeah.”

I forced a small smile. “Not an issue.”

After signing the paperwork, David mentioned a nearby bank where I could withdraw the cash. The walk would give me a chance to explore the neighborhood and maybe find places that were hiring.

As I stepped out into the crisp air, the reality of my situation hit me. I once had it all—a beautiful family, a promising career. Now, I was starting over, one step at a time.

At one point, I was on track to become a CEO. Now, I’d be lucky to land a job flipping burgers.

As I walked toward the bank, the neighborhood had a charm I hadn’t expected. Kids laughed and shouted as they played outside, their voices echoing through the streets. The scent of home-cooked meals drifted through the air, mingling with the quiet hum of the neighborhood. Cars passed by occasionally, but it was calm—peaceful, even.

It felt… normal. Almost too perfect. As I passed by small storefronts—a laundromat, family-run restaurants, ethnic grocery stores, and cozy coffee shops—I couldn’t help but think this was the kind of place I would’ve wanted to raise my kids in. A neighborhood with character, where people knew each other. It felt like something out of a movie, almost like it wasn’t real. And deep down, I wondered if I deserved this after everything I’d done.

The bank was up ahead, and I stepped inside. It was small but efficient, and I headed straight for the ATM. Sliding my card into the slot, I withdrew three months’ rent. As the cash dispensed, the remaining balance flashed on the screen.

I’d be okay.

After selling the house and settling everything, there was still enough to keep me afloat for a while. Not enough to retire, but I wasn’t broke. Sarah hadn’t wanted anything from me—not even her share of the house. The lawyer had sent her a cheque, but it went uncashed and eventually stale. That money sat untouched in the account, a silent reminder of how much I’d lost.

I tucked the envelope of cash into my inside jacket pocket and stepped out into the crisp air, making my way back toward the apartment. As I walked, a small coffee shop caught my eye. It had a warm, inviting feel to it—large windows showcasing pastries and customers chatting over mugs of steaming coffee. On a whim, I decided to stop in.

The moment I stepped through the door, the smell of fresh-baked goods and coffee wrapped around me like a comforting hug. It was the kind of place where you’d lose hours catching up with an old friend. There was artwork on the walla, and shelves lined with books – something you don’t see in a coffee shop. I walked up to the counter and ordered a coffee and a cinnamon bun.

Shawn loved cinnamon buns. He’d always light up whenever I brought one home. Sarah would scold me, saying he didn’t need so many sweets, but I could never resist his excitement. Samantha was different—she always went for the pretzels. Sweet things weren’t her thing.

The memories stung, but they were bittersweet. They reminded me of what I had to fight for—what I had to rebuild, even if I could only do so from a distance.

Coffee and pastry in hand, I found a small table near the window and sat down. I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through job listings. It felt surreal. I’d once been an SVP, managing teams, negotiating deals. Now? I was sifting through ads for baristas and bakers, realizing that even for jobs like those, they wanted experience I didn’t have. How does a former executive get experience as a barista, or baker? I shook my head. This might be harder than I thought, but I had to try.

One listing caught my eye—an opening for a night-shift barista at a nearby café. No experience required, the ad said. Just a willingness to learn. I saved it, making a mental note to call them later. The idea of starting from scratch wasn’t as daunting as I expected. For once, the challenge felt… refreshing.

As I finished my coffee and the cinnamon bun, I looked around the shop. A family sat at the next table, a toddler squealing with delight as her father tore a muffin into small pieces for her. It made me smile and ache at the same time.

With a sigh, I gathered my things and headed out. It was time to meet David and finalize the rental. The road ahead would be rough, but it was mine to walk. And maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to make things right.

Having met David earlier, I was impressed by his laid-back nature, though his fastidiousness about cleanliness and the no-shoes rule would take some getting used to. Still, it was his place, and I respected that. I handed over the money, signed the lease, and got the keys to my new home. For the first time in what felt like forever, I had something that was mine.

With the keys in hand, I headed back to the Airbnb. There wasn’t much to pack—just a small bag of clothes and my laptop—but I had to find furniture, order it and have it delivered. I would have to extend my stay until my furniture arrived. I sat at the tiny table, flipping open my laptop to continue my search for work. There wasn’t much luck so far, but persistence was all I had.

I emailed one of the more promising job listings and then combed through others. Applying for work with a pared-down resume wasn’t easy. It felt like erasing years of effort and achievement, but I had to simplify things. My career in management meant nothing here. It was humbling, but maybe that was what I needed.

Hours passed as I scrolled through listings, made notes, and sent out applications. The ache of failure pressed down on me, but I tried to push it aside. This wasn’t about what I’d lost; it was about what I could rebuild.

After finishing the applications, I switched my focus to finding furniture. Scrolling through local stores online, I settled on a few essentials—just enough to make the apartment livable. Sarah would’ve been proud of my choices, though the thought of her stung. Everything I ordered would arrive next week. Until then, I’d have to stick it out at the Airbnb.