This was the first major scene I wrote for this story beside the first two chapters, which were published as-is. As you'll be able to clearly see, the storyline differed completely from what I originally wrote in April, 2018. Hope you enjoy this alternate outcome of our beloved characters...

~

Present time

Germany 1991

So... Now you know what happened. Now maybe you all can understand why I took a sudden detour to Germany instead of flying back home. I really wished I had flown home though...

I rubbed my eyes, I had flown in to Germany in the middle of the night having my assistant book a nice hotel quickly before my arrival. Looking at my pillow anyone that walked in the suite could see my smeared make-up on the white case that matched the duvet. I sighed, sitting up in the bed propped up by my arms. Reaching up to run my fingers through my hair I noticed I was still wearing my clothes from yesterday, I groaned falling back onto my make-up covered pillow.

"Why Germany?" I asked the silence that had begun to slowly engulf me, "Why. Fucking. Germany?!" I yelled while angrily throwing the pillow with the ruined case across the room. My head now on the mattress, I finally broke down. Tears stung my eyes as they decided to appear after being withheld for an unknown amount of time. I had lost track of how long it had been since I'd last cried—proper crying with heated tears and angry, red eyes—I believe I had stopped sometime when the fighting began with Michael...I remember it seemed so preposterous at the time when we began arguing. The few people that I had actually told what had been going on between the two of us were in complete disbelief. Michael, fighting? Astoria, that's funny... or No, he wouldn't do that. Are you just pulling my leg or something?

Something inside me must have snapped along the way, because those moments when I had reached out just to simply talk to someone about it and they had dismissed it...That hurt. It's was as though he'd taken my believability away from me. A strength I'd thought I still possessed at the time, but little did I know that he had taken it away from my when I wasn't looking. I feel betrayed, lost, confused—because I still loved him, we'd been together for years now, and as much as I'd like to forget him I doubt it'll ever happen—anger flared within me the more I thought about him, and it made me cry even harder. A continuing cycle of furious tears... Michael. Tears. Betrayal. Anger. More Tears.

I needed to pull myself together, there was a time and place to cry but this couldn't be it. I needed to get ready for today, because he finally had a stupid opening in his schedule and like the fool I was, I immediately jumped on a plane to meet him. This meeting wasn't going to be like old times when we'd meet up to go explore foreign cities, or to just hang out in hotel rooms. No, there would be lawyers present at this particular meeting. We probably won't be saying two words, let alone any words to each other throughout this entire meeting. We'll just be sitting across from each other, trying not to look each other in the eyes, pretending the other isn't in the room but actually is just phoning in like normal from somewhere else. Absolutely awful human interaction habits...

On one hand it was a positive thing that he was going to be there in person today, I had news that would be best shared in person. A part of me hoped, that maybe if I was able to gauge his reaction on the subject manner... maybe we would be able to let the divorce slide. No more lawyers, no more negotiating—because of course, we were young and naive and didn't come up with a pre-nup—no more arguing over who gets what and at how much. I didn't want Michael's money when I married him and I certainly don't want it now, I've done well enough for myself to survive quite comfortably for the remainder of my existence. A little more than "survive" if you ask my accountant, though. Plus, with my announcement that I'll be making later today... Oh, god! I need to stop thinking about it, my stomach is already in knots. I don't need another reason to be puking my guts out.

I wrapped my arms around my abdomen and sat down on top of the toilet lid in the bathroom of my suite. The warm towel wrapped around my body helped with the sudden anxiety I felt, but I knew it wouldn't completely go away until I spilled the beans. Thank god for the creation of towel warmers! By this time all I had to do really was put on a fresh pair of clothes, do my make-up, and make a single call to my attorney to make sure he was on his way. I knew, he knew where he needed to be and when he needed to be there, I've just never been good with suspense. Shaking slightly, I got up and walked to where my suitcase lay on the floor and quickly took out some clean clothes.

For the last month and a half, I haven't worn anything tight for fear of being found out, but today was different. I was going to take hold of the reins today, I was finally going to be the one in control; I just wish that it didn't have to come at the cost of another being. People have said God works in mysterious ways, and I never really believed it until recently. Help will come to those who need it in the most unlikely way, and when they least expect it. This is exactly what happened to me in the last six months, help came in the form of hope for a new future. A form fitting high-waisted black skirt showed off my ever-growing bump, unnoticeable to the ignorant passerby yet completely telling to the man who'd known me since my mixing days at Capitol Records. This was never how I wanted to tell him we were pregnant.

After Paisley we'd tried for years, went to so many doctors, all we wanted was a family to raise together and yet that seemed to be the one thing we couldn't accomplish. Ironic. Together we'd done so many things, helped so many people, and went to so many places, but doctor after doctor had told us having children would be next to impossible for us. Your body chemistries just don't seem to line up properly... Your first child seems to have been a miracle. For some couples, three years of trying isn't a lot, but for us it was. Somewhere around 1987 we had both decided that throwing ourselves back into our work might be for the best, refresh our minds. This is when Michael decided to do a world tour, Bad was taking off like no other and it just made sense.

I encouraged him. Music was and is his everything and I would never be the one to hold him back from his passion. I met him at every continent, taking my time to move through the places the both of us were visiting. After an unforgettable night in Japan during the first leg of the world tour, I had gotten pregnant for the first time after having our beautiful daughter... we were both ecstatic and couldn't contain our joy, we didn't want to. Musicians, singers, dancers, roadies, and the like had somehow found out about our good news and lavished the two of us with a surprise party during a rehearsal. I still have a pair of baby booties one of the light-tech guys crochet for our child. He'd made them with a pale green yarn and had weaved a matching ribbon through the ankle of the boots. I remember marveling at them after I'd opened the wrappings. Six weeks later, at a total of 11 weeks and two days I'd had a miscarriage. We were devastated.

This was when the discord began, it wasn't immediate like a switch, instead it crept up on us like a monster out of Thriller. The first time we fought. There wasn't any yelling, and that almost made it worse than all the other times when we did yell. Michael had wanted to give up on trying, he had said he didn't want to go through another possible miscarriage and that he didn't want to have to rush me to the hospital again, fearing for my life. Astoria, please. I just...I can't go through this again, I can't lose you too. His pleading words rang in my head, he had sounded so defeated and it had stomped on my already broken heart. True to form we stopped trying to conceive after that, but God had other plans in mind, because I got pregnant one more time. We conceived in late August of 1989, and somehow, we'd kept a hold onto that child up until right before Christmas.

December 23rd, 1989 was the worst day of my life. It was our first true Christmas where both us were going to be celebrating. We went out and cut down a tree together (with help, of course). I had to be rushed to another hospital, the bleeding was more extensive than the first time. I don't remember a lot about the chain of events...how everything happened. I just remember Michael and I laughing one moment and the next...so much blood. I shivered recalling the images in my head, I remember waking up in a stark white hospital bed connected to a bunch of monitors and wires. A foreign weight had been resting on my thighs, looking up from my drowsy state it had been Michael's mess of tangled curls laying there. His face was stained from tears of concern and pain all shed throughout the night and into the early morning, most-likely. He never told me what all he went through that night, we've never actually talked about it surprisingly... Maybe if we had talked...

I can't keep making excuses for why we didn't work out. I need to let it go, but can I let it go? Do I want to let it go? No, I don't want to. I straighten my black blazer in the mirror, fully clothed and hair and makeup done. Here I am, ready to go and face the disaster that will become this day in Germany. I grabbed my purse and key card for the room as I walked out, meeting the car waiting to take me to my next destination. Friends have told me that I've been too easy to work with during the divorce, but I'm just done with all the crap. I don't wish to dance like a monkey, jumping through hoops for him at every turn, but it's the easier thing to do. Michael is simply busier than I am right now.

In no time at all my driver makes it to the building where we're meeting, my lawyer is waiting for me by the door all prepared and ready to go. My lawyer, Mr. Clark already knows about my announcement and has all the paperwork at the ready to prove my words. The thought of someone thinking that I would lie about my child makes fury rise within me, but Mr. Clark said we should be prepared for every possible outcome. He even told me they might want a paternity test due to Michael and I's conceiving history. The absurdity! Reign in your emotions, they show on your face like daylight, Briggs. After taking the elevator up several flights the bells dinged and the doors opened for the two of us to walk out. The air between Mr. Clark and I was palpable with worry, in these past months Mr. Clark had become a good friend as well as my lawyer.

We stopped outside of a set of double doors, guarded by two burly men in black sunglasses and shirts to match. I wondered how they saw indoors with shades that dark, surely it wasn't beneficial to guarding... Mr. Clark turned to me.

"Remember, whatever happens I'm on your side. I'm here for you, Ms. Briggs." Mr. Clark placed a firm hand on my shoulder in hopes it would help boost my confidence. I gave him a stiff, single nod in response. "Deep breath." We both took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Good," He turned back to the guards, "We're ready, let us in boys." The guards grunted softly in response and turned, opening the double doors for Mr. Clark and I to walk in.

In the room was a lengthy conference table surrounded by black leather chairs, and in the middle on the far side sat Michael and his personal attorney, a Mr. Cornelius Webster. As Mr. Clark and I walked toward them Michael made no move to get up, it was as if we weren't even there to him. Mr. Webster stood and reached out a hand to Mr. Clark in greeting.

"Marcus." Mr. Webster greeted, firmly shaking my attorney's hand.

"Cornelius. Ready to start?" Mr. Clark shook his hand back politely, placing his briefcase across from Mr. Webster's on the table, pulling the chair out in front of him to sit down. I took the seat to his left, sitting across from the person who refused to acknowledge my existence.

"Ready when you are," Mr. Webster sat back down continuing his sentence, "I believe my client and yours have finally come to some form of an agreement, yes?" I would have raised an eyebrow had I been the one to say this, but Mr. Webster was a trained professional and made no facial expression whatsoever.

"Under normal circumstances I would agree with you; however, I cannot at this time move onto closing paperwork and statements on this case." I saw Michael move ever so slightly out of the corner of my eye, we had his attention.

"Why are you and your client unable to do so at this time, Mr. Clark?" Mr. Webster folded his hands together; it was obvious he wished to say something, but he was unable to legally... how ironic.

"My client has new information that could alter the outcome of this divorce case if not spoken before closing statements." He took a breath moment of pause before continuing, "Ms. Briggs would like to tell your client the news in her own words, if permitted." I held my breath, this was it the moment before the moment. Dear god. Mr. Webster turned to Michael, who was still as statuesque as before, waiting for his answer. Michael nodded once.

"Ms. Briggs the floor is yours." Mr. Webster stated, his voice low. I took a shaky breath and faced my soon-to-be ex-husband, looking him directly in the eyes (or where his eyes would be anyway, he was wearing his defense mechanism: sunglasses).

"Michael, I know this may be difficult to digest... after everything you and I have been through in the last few years, but I couldn't not tell you... Anyway," I stood up and I could feel his eyes on me as I took off my blazer, "...I'm pregnant. Again." I turned sideways for effect, though in hindsight I probably didn't need to. Watching him, I could see his minute movements of his facial features, eyebrows knitting together slightly, his jaw loosening just a touch, his eyes probably blinking from behind his glasses trying to take in the entirety of my altered state. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't enjoying him squirm just a little bit, because I was. Mr. Webster was the first to speak.

"Well, that certainly is altering news...I-" Michael cut him off and the room went silent.

"How far along are you." His voice was deathly quiet, reserved. It wasn't a question, it was a demand. He didn't believe it was his. I stood up, tired of playing his foolish games.

"Six months and three days to be exact, and you damn well know what night that was." My voice was deathly quiet, like the calm before the storm. I was prepared to take no shit, not from anyone about this. After what felt like an hour, Michael stood up too. His form still towered a solid six inches over mine, but I wasn't about to back down, not over this.

"The night we met in Paris, I know I remember. You don't need to get all defensive..." His voice was quiet but firm, not angry. And as an afterthought, "I believe you." Both our lawyers were still sitting down looking at the two of us, what they were thinking I'll never know. Mr. Clark spoke next.

"Should we give you two a moment alone?" He asked looking from me to Michael and then back again.

Such a smart man. He can read a room like the back of his hand, which is one reason I hired him in the first place.

"Marcus, I hardly think that will be necessary -"Michael cut off his lawyer again.

"Cornelius, I think Mr. Clark has the correct reading of the situation at hand. You both can leave, we'll be fine." Michael's lawyer looked taken aback, on his face was the first expression I'd see him make in the time that I'd known him. First mild shock, which morphed into annoyance; if Mr. Webster hadn't been such a well-composed man (and if he wasn't being paid so well either) he would definitely be complaining or objecting to Michael's words right now.

My lawyer turned to me, his eyes searching mine for any objection to Michael's wish for the two of them to leave. Satisfied that he found nothing in his search, Marcus Clark stood up with his briefcase in hand adjusting his glasses as he spoke.

"If you need me at all, for anything, I'll be right outside." His voice was soft, then turned and left, walking after an almost stomping Mr. Webster. The doors shut and locked behind them and suddenly we were alone for the first time in six months and three days. 

My eyes moved from the shut doors to Michael, examining him for the first time fully. Honestly, he looked awful, at first glance he looked the same, but if you knew him well then you realized he looked like a wreck. Dark circles around his eyes, the corners of his mouth were ever so slightly turned downwards, and there was a fragility about him too that gnawed at me while taking in his visage. I also noticed that he'd taken his aviators off once our lawyers left the room, his eyes were a bit red too probably from lack of sleep... we never did sleep well when we were apart from each other.

"You look awful." I noted, breaking the pregnant silence. No pun intended. He gave a small sigh and the corners of his lips turned upwards ever so slightly.

"You never were one to beat around the bush..." He looked me up and down, "You're looking better than me anyway." I relaxed my shoulders.

"Don't dismiss yourself like that, you know you're gorgeous..." I left my voice trail off quietly as I sat back down in the leather chair, Michael did the same. "...even when you haven't been sleeping." He looked surprised for a split moment, then his features relaxed again.

"You know me too well, but you forget how well I know you too." He adjusted himself in his chair before pointing an accusing finger at me, "Don't think I've forgotten how you bite your nails when you're stressed out." I looked at my hands, I hadn't even noticed myself. Damn.

"Either way, what-... What should we do? Your opinion would be helpful right about now." I countered, trying to avoid the breakout of an argument. He crossed his arms.

"What do you want to do?" He asked. As if it was that simple.

"Michael, I'm being serious. This time isn't like the last two times, my OB went over it with me everything is going perfectly. She said it's a damn miracle considering everything else that's happened." I moved one of my hands through the air as I talked, trying to get him to understand.

"Except for Paisley, of course." He stated.

"Always."

"What do you think is going to happen with this new baby, Astoria? That everything will be all candy and rainbows? This isn't going to change the fact that we lost two children already! I know it hurt you too, but it's pained me in a way I can't fully express. It's like its been eating away at my soul slowly, and it got a lot worse after we lost Prince in '89." He paused, his eyes welling up with unshed tears. "I can't bury another child, Ash..." He put a fist to his mouth, trying to hold back his emotions. The child we'd lost on December 23rd, 1989 was our son who I let Michael name. Prince Michael Jackson, not my first choice but when he explained it to me it just seemed to fit perfectly. Our little Prince gone to dance around with God up in Heaven... it was an ideal image to help keep our sorrow at bay. I wanted to reach out and take his large hands in my small ones, but I resisted.

"You don't need to worry about that this time around, I promise." I said