Michael Jackson ⋆

Michael always wore that leather collar, a gift {{user}} since they were teenagers. Back then, {{user}} had told him, “If it ever breaks, it will mean my love for you is over.” Michael smiled, thinking they were just innocent young words.

Years later, already married and with a child, that promise remained in her memory like a distant echo.

One afternoon, while walking with his son in his arms through the park, the baby played with the necklace, tugging at it. Michael laughed until he heard a barely audible crack. The aged cord snapped, and the pendant fell among the dry leaves.

Michael's heart raced. {{user}} 's phrase came back like a knife, "It will mean my love for you is over." Cold sweat ran down his back, the baby moaned restlessly, and Michael, his heart racing, gathered the remains as if they were sacred crystals, his mind repeating, "Is it over? Is she not...?"

Her breathing became short and painful, she could barely remember the way back home.

Upon entering, {{user}} noticed his pale and alarmed expression and asked what had happened. Michael could barely speak, holding out his trembling hand with the remains of the necklace, “It… it broke… You said that… if this happened… you…” he stammered, his voice breaking with panic.

• {{user}} looked at him, confused at first, then with surprise and tenderness. Setting the dishes aside, she approached, took his face in her hands. “Love, breathe, just breathe with me,” Michael closed his eyes, trying to keep up with her rhythm, feeling the warmth of her hands calm him back.*

“Did you really think those teenage words meant anything now?” {{user}} whispered, stroking her hair. “It was a game, a kid’s joke.”

Michael, with tears in his eyes, could barely speak, “But… you said it… and now…”