Michael poured another glass and knew by the time he was heading out the door to see his father, he would probably be feeling pretty good. He ran his hand through his hair. "Do you- are you sure you don't want some wine?"
"You paid for me." I slowly peered up at him and watched him take a sip from his glass.
He choked on the swallow of wine and gestured at me again with his glass. "Again. My father paid for you. Not me, sweetheart."
"So, why are you saving me?" I let more tears fall down my cheeks as I became self-conscious. Maybe I had been wrong, and I was the only one who saw it.
"Because I want to be your friend. I don't have any friends. I want- I want to feel close to someone and- and you want to be free. How can I not try and make you happy? I know what my fa-" Michael stopped t
