"You don't look so happy to see me?" He chuckles nervously. "I mean I put on the suit."

He put on the suit.

Glancing over his attire, I huff inwardly.

He thinks that he can put on the suit that became the excuse for his hiatus and everything will be peaches and cream.

He is absolutely wrong.

I have stressed myself, blamed myself, and even snapped at a few unfortunate victims because of his disappearance, but oh no, none of that matters because he put on the suit.

What an asshole.

"Go away, Jermaine." I grit, turning towards the mirror again.

Unfortunately for me, I have a stubborn ass brother who has a record of pestering many with his idiosyncrasies. So instead of taking a hint, he takes a chance.

Through the reflection in the mirror, I catch his slow movements as he claims a nearby chair and watches me silently. Although I am boiling right now, I can't help but admire his boldness.

I still won't budge.

"You know, I was never really angry with you." He casually states, his eyes firmly boring into my reflection.

Still not budging.

He waits a few short minutes, most certainly waiting for a reaction, any reaction. Upon presumably concluding that I am loyal to my silence, he sighs aloud and continues.

"I wasn't mad at you. I was mad at the thought of being pushed. I was mad at being pushed away. I don't like being pushed away." He sighs, catching my attention when he suddenly sniffles.

Man, I hope he doesn't start crying. Jermaine has the ugliest cry. I swear his cry cannot be outdone or duplicated.

It's just that nasty.

Instead, he exhales rather loudly.

"But it happened. I saw it happened. I made it happen before. I guess I didn't like it the other way around." He exasperated further. "I felt betrayed, I just didn't understand. I was being pushed away and for what? Someone being selfish? No. That's not how it works."

He shakes his head, wiping a lone tear. Looking at him through the mirror takes me back. It takes me back to the time when he "pushed me away". Seeing him cry reminds me of my tears.

Damn.

"And maybe you don't care right now, but that hurt Michael. We're supposed to be close and you just... Shut me out completely. So yeah, my whole scene was a part of a stupid retaliation. I'm sorry. Okay?" He sighs aloud. "I'm so damn sorry."

I cannot recount if I've ever heard a grown man whimper until today. Not only is this experience, witnessing Jermaine cry, eye-opening but it's heartwarming as well. It truly proves the bond that we have is authentic. It even proves that my asshole elder brother has enough common sense to come to his senses.

For that, I can't thank him enough.

"We were selfish. Joseph, Marlon, Tito... All of us. We didn't try to see your point. We pushed you and it hurt us in the end." He exhales. "And even though things could've been handled differently, I'm glad you invited us here." He glances up, standing from the chair.

This time, I actually turn around, gifting him my full attention.

I may have been a little despotic towards him, but with good reason. Yet, with listening to his side of the story, a light has been finally shed on a dark subject.

It's time to fully forgive.

As soon as I complete my turn, I am pulled into a desperate hug. A powerful hug.

"I'm so sorry Michael. I'm sorry, Okay? This ain't happenin' again. You mean too much to me. Alright?" He mumbles into my hair.

I nod, tasting the familiar saltiness of tears as I bite down on my lip. I don't want to cry, but I have forgotten how much my family means to me. I allowed my resentment to cloud my judgment. I solidified my choices on a dubious foundation - a severed heart.

The Jacksons aren't perfect, and my life thus far proved those imperfections to be the impetus for where I find myself today.

I'm at peace with that.

"I'm sorry too Jerm. I really am." I wince, squeezing him a little tighter.

I have really missed my family.

For what seemed like hours, we stayed in this position. Allowing all of the harbored pain to drain us until there was nothing more to do other than smile. When we smiled a sleight was cleaned - our sleight is finally cleaned.

Now looking at my elder brother in a new light, everything can resume as normal.

Yet I have an indiscretion to get off my chest.

"Hey, Jerm?" I smile wickedly, taking one step backward.

He sighs contently and nods for me to continue.

"Remember how you use to tease me for my weak punches?"

He furrows his eyebrows, equal part confused and humored.

His face lit up after a beat or two.

"Yeah, I guess so. I mean you had one weak ass hit. It use'ta be funny as hell!" He chuckles, shaking his head before glancing at me with sudden awareness. "Why?"

Smirking at my unsuspecting elder brother, I give him a great blow in the arm; making sure he will feel it for a while.

Childish, I know, but that was for him stepping out on me and for calling me weak all these years.

"Man, what the hell?" He grimaces, rubbing his arm softly. "That shit actually hurts!" He quickly adds, frowning at me.

Serves him right.

"Welcome back big brother. Now let's go get me married." I chuckle, purposely patting him on his tender arm.

Squinting his eyes at me, he mumbles the inaudible, reluctantly following me out of the room.

Although I'm disappointed about this occurring under these circumstances, I'm relieved that my bond with my brother has been restored and I can properly enjoy my wedding.

Finally.

"How do I look?" I smile, giving a full three-sixty of my suit.

Giggles. I only receive giggles in return. Not at all expected, but I accept them gleefully.

I have less than thirty minutes before I expose myself to friends and family. In less than thirty minutes, I will be marrying the woman I've been enamored by for nine years.

I cannot explain how it feels, but if I could, I would say imagine this:

Sitting on a cloud of cotton candy, sun beaming down on you gently, soft music playing in the background, and the cutest little critters playing all around you.

Now multiple that by two.

That is how today feels.

I am on a cotton candy cloud with the sun beaming gently on my skin and the most darling critters surround me in merriment. Childish, but that is the only way I can describe it.

I'm simply jovial.

In addition to being jovial for what is soon to transpire, I have my little Nutty aiding me in my preparations.

I feel that it is very important for my firstborn son to see his father be a man. I want to teach him, firsthand how to be a real man. A real man that respects himself. A man that owns up to his wrongdoing, and most importantly, a man that is authentic enough to find him a genuine woman. I was not fortunate to have many examples of this adominition, it is not familiar for me, but I want it to be for him.

"So I'm taking that as a yes, I look good?" My smile widens.

"Good daddy! Daddy good!" He squeals, charging forward.

I squat down to greet him with open arms.

I adore my little Nutty. This little toddler has taught me so much, beyond fatherhood. He has taught me that the decisions I make truly affect his future. For instance, my attentiveness to his growth and milestones, have encouraged him to become this little fighter.

As clichè as that lesson is and as simple as my explanation is, it has truly helped me compensate with my worries of being a better father for our little one on the way, for both of them.

Noah changed me for the better.

"You know daddy loves you, right?" I give him one last squeeze before breaking our embrace to look him in the eyes.

"Yes! Luh-Luh daddy." He smiles, stomping his little feet to an unknown rhythm.

I can only chuckle at his elation.

He is truly a Jackson.

He has seemed to pick up his own form of communication; a "happy dance". It has been a benevolent response to the things that bring him joy as of recent. I do not know if this is just a phase of his transition into the "terrible two's", but I'll take it over his tantrums any day.

"Daddy loves you, nutty." I whisper again, caressing his smooth cheek.

With the absence of words, my son gazes at me as if I held the moon and stars, affirming the magic I feel.

Thank you, God.

"Hey, Mike, my boy, it's time." A deep baritone interrupts us.

I mirror the little one as we glance toward the door to indeed find a husky senior with gleaming eyes.

"Alright, Bill, gimme a minute." I say with a smile, despite the sudden sinking feeling I am experiencing in my abdomen.

The anxiousness is finally debuting itself.

He lets out a hearty chuckle, stepping forward before motioning Noah to come to him.

Noah looks to me as if asking for permission, his eyes keen with wonder and meek with innocence.

"Go to uncle Bill, Nutty." I nudge him forward.

Noah has progressed with his social skills. He normally secludes himself from anyone that is not me or Jesse, but now he takes smalls steps and observes people before approaching.

My son is very discerning for his age and I am rather content with that.

Bill and I watch in amusement as the little toddler waddles over to him.

The little one is almost two years old, but his lessons on gravity and the way it works are very much a work in progress.

Nevertheless, he manages to reach his uncle with a wide smile. Wobbly legs and all. Bill scoops up the toddler with a chuckle cooing accolades.

"Thank you, Bill" I sigh aloud.

He makes silly faces for Noah earning giggles and squeals before offering me a smile.

"No need to thank me, this here little boy is family" He gives Noah a squeeze. "Just like his knuckle-head daddy." He teases offering me a wink.

I shake my head with a chuckle.

I truly am thankful for Bill. He has been so much more to me than a bodyguard. He means so much more to me than a bodyguard. He's a friend, a therapist, and most importantly, a father for me.

"No, Bill. I really want to thank you" I exasperate.

I suck in some air through my teeth feeling the threat of tears.

By now, Noah has quieted down in Bill's arms so I have his full attention.

Therefore, I continue.

"Bill, thank you for being the father I needed. Thank you for being the glue to keep me together. Thank you for protecting me and my family. Thank you for being our family. Thank you" I express disregarding the sudden tears. "I can't even thank you enough man, honestly" I choke.

"Ah, man Michael..." He kisses his teeth. "Come on now man, not on your wedding day." He sighs.

I shake my head in concurrence.

I do not need to cry. Not on a day like this.

I am simply overwhelmed with the blessings in my life and Bill is one of them. I do not tell him enough. All these years of fighting and he has never forsaken me. Always near. Always picking me up. Always protecting me.

Now he does the same for my family. Our family. Witnessing his budding relationship with my son has touched me.

I cannot expound on it any further.

I am just so grateful.

"I'm sorry. I-I... Man..." I fumble over my words.

He pauses for a beat shifting his gaze between the toddler and mine.

The pride in his eyes gleaming tells me all I need to know before he opens his mouth.

"I love you son."

That is all he gives away before turning and disappearing behind the cream threshold leaving me to my thoughts.

I take a brief moment to wipe my eyes.

That is all I needed.

There are no other words to be spoken.

I heard him.

With that I make a slow pivot to face someone else.

Admiring the man staring back at me, I find myself experiencing an evocation of who we, the man in the mirror and I, used to be. To where he and I began before we knew we were enough for ourselves, but most importantly, to where he and I began before we knew that we were enough for her.

We were lonely.

We were partial.

We were lost.

I inhale and exhale with the man staring back at me.

We have come so far.

We have subdued the plausibility of defeat.

We did this.

Yet, we did not do it alone.

I smile at the man staring back at me as we fix our slated belt centering it on our shoulder.

No, we met her.

Jesse Rose Edmond.

Her.

She remodeled our entire world.

Our heart.

Our soul.

Our being.

Her.

"So do you always leave your number for your fans or am I special?" She taunts with a chuckle.

I smile at the telephone receiver.

She called.

She actually called.

I lean back into the recliner before clearing my throat.

"Depends... Are you my fan or are you special?"

There's a beat before laughter graces my ear.

"I'm Jesse Rose Edmond, of course, I'm special"

I find myself smiling again, a fleeting feeling of comfort falling over me.

She is special.

The man staring back at me tugs at the hem of our jacket.

We have come so far. The man in the mirror, Jesse, and I. We have withstood so many trials and tribulations.

"I still can't believe I could've been a father.  Five months... I'm so sorry Jess"

She was resilient to bear our child and experience the loss of our child alone.

"I fucking hate you"

She was transparent about the pain I caused when I failed to see.

"I see you Michael, baby... I see you."

She was a reflector for the man she saw me be.

The man staring back at me wipes our eyes. The tears from earlier rebounding as the memories go on.

"So what's stopping you? Why won't you stop being stubborn and love me already? I fucked up, I know... But I don't deserve this shit. I-I don't deserve to be toyed with. This is cruel and you know it! Why, why are you stepping on my heart like this?! I love you... I love you so much, girl..."

We have conquered the odds.

"I kneel before you in my natural glory because this is why I fell in love with you. You accepted me for who I am. You didn't settle for the surface. You searched beneath and found my heart. "

We have arrived at the end of the beginning.

"World... Meet Misses Jackson"

I give the man staring back at me one last glance. I am beyond elated with the result of our journey. I am beyond prepared for this next chapter of our lives. The man staring back at and me, we are ready.

I am ready.

______

It all was a blur.

Easing down the aisle inhaling the evening breeze of the sea. My loafers are barely noticeable in the mushy sand. My cornerstone of sight being a blanket of cerulean blue. Ilhabela is absolutely breathtaking.

The perfect location to be secluded and delight in the ceremony. No cameras. No extra company. Just family.

My footsteps are slow and long. I fear if I move any faster I will stumble and look like an imbecile. That is not the type of show I want to present.

I would be mendacious if I claimed to not be anxious about what the guests are contemplating as I walk past.

Do they like my hair?

I chose a sleek ponytail for this occasion, not neglecting to leave a few straggling curls on my forehead.

Do they like my ensemble?

I chose to veil a custom piece from my infamous designer Michael Bush.

Midnight German velvet jacket. Michael referred to it as the "Renaissance Jacket". I told him, after a trip to a European museum, I was inspired by one of the antique costumes. Accompanied by my signature midnight bottoms and bedazzled charcoal boots. I am not a traditional man, so I do not participate in traditional ideologies. I do not believe in wearing a suit and tie to an event - absolutely not.

I believe in dawning what the next man cannot. It is my job as an individual and especially as an entertainer.

I always tell Michael Bush:

"If a guy sitting in the front row was wearing what I'm wearing, then I would stop being an entertainer,"

He would chuckle, bemused by my smugness, but it could not be further from the truth.

Therefore, as I pass the small group of esteemed guests, I not only want to give them a show, I want to leave them entertained.

Suddenly a wave of confidence washes over me and wraps me tightly.

My shoulders square and my chest lifts higher, my anxiousness now a passing thought in the wind.

I got this.

The sun is low on the horizon just as we all hoped.

I called my future wife insane for dreaming of a beach wedding. I was baffled by the idea that she felt was not only romantic but a solid plan. I had to remind my beloved of my skin condition. The sun and I are doomed to forever be adversaries.

What part of that did she not understand?

I had to wonder.

At the expense of my distress, she had cupped my jaw and smiled dreamily.

"Trust me"

I became putty.

A pitiful fool lost in her irises.

"I trust you"

That was the end of the discussion and now here I am, under the haven of glorious bright emery palm trees. A change of scenery of our usual Neverland sycamore trees. Meticulously beaded lights are weaved among the leaves above us. The trees form some kind of upside-down 'U', almost as if they are leaning into the small area. Three rows of three mahogany rattan chairs are on either side of my path. In those seats are the eldest Jackson's, my lawyer, my manager, Jesse's manager, Gabriel, and his family, and our videographer.

Small.

Intimate.

Reclusive.

Those were the keys to every decision of ours during our planning. We would have loved to host a resplendent event. It was our initial plan after all. Yet, we decided against it due to how much media attention it would attract. With Jesse being pregnant, I personally felt uneasy about exposing us to a potential media firestorm. I could only imagine the bedlam.

"Wacko Jacko wedding! It's one for the clowns!"

I understand that the media comes with the territory. I am not complaining about the fame. I am at odds with the turmoil that comes when the media becomes relentless. I have been exposing myself and my family far more than I should have.

I readily escaped with my family after my last concert due to the fact that I knew I had screwed up by exposing our son to the world.

It was a disaster - one that we had thankfully planned for.

We immediately hopped on a private jet provided by Elizabeth Taylor and flew away into the night sky.

Therefore, a September wedding in Brazil is the most befitting location for us. No one would think to have a beach wedding during the fall weather.

No one but the Jackson's.

Having finally passed the onlooking guest, I post myself adjacent to the officiant, Reverand Al Sharpton.

The hefty guy with the neatly permed hair and verbose character.

It was not my initial idea. I give all the credit to Jesse. I took it seriously when Jesse jokingly asked me to offer him the position.

"I don't see why not?" I shrug.

Jesse chuckles for a moment before her face falls solemnly.

"You know I am joking, right?"

I shrug again and glance at her sideways.

"I mean... It's not a bad idea. The guy owes me a favor and if the media isn't there to witness, I know the Reverand will gladly testify to the wedding being real and actually normal." I present my case.

She pauses for a beat eyebrows furrowed as she ponders.

"I mean... Maybe..." She starts clearly hesitant. "It would be an honor for a legendary figure like him to officiate our wedding. Who else can say that?" She adds with a goofy grin.

I nod and shake my head in disbelief.

"Well that's settled, Reverand Al Sharpton is officiating our wedding"

I offer a nod to the Reverand, acknowledging him as I adjust my stance.

"Once again mister Jackson, it is a pleasure to be hear" He expresses.

"It is my honor, Reverand" I mirror his sentiment.

He and I exchange grins before the violins abruptly halt.

Prior to this moment, I hadn't even registered the music in the background. A gentle acoustic version of my unreleased track, "Someone Put Your Hand Out", from my Dangerous studio recordings. Albeit a somber song, the melodies weave together wonderfully acoustically.

Jesse certainly adores the demo and I knew it would be the perfect feature for the ceremony.

I initially offered to have my good friend Stevie Wonder sing for us, but in loo of us wanting an intimate ceremony --meaning no extra guests-- Jesse and I decided against it.

The halting of the violins and the other percussions signified that the moment has come. The moment I have waited nine years for. The moment I have longed for. The moment I have fought for.

"The hell do you need to be so dramatic for, Michael?" He scowls rolling his eyes.

I exhale heavily having grown tired of explaining to four grown men why my bride and I have solidified certain decisions for our wedding.

"Wanting my bride to have a grand entrance is not dramatic, Randy" I contest.

Randy huffs and pats Jackie on the chest as if to say, "Get your boy".

I wait patiently for the rebuttal, arms crossed over my chest loosely so as to not give off the impression that I am too patient.

Jackie glances between Randy and the others before groaning at the ceiling and inhaling.

"Michael..." He sighs eyes searching mine. "Brother, you are having a small wedding. Yet, you want to make an entrance?"

"Not me, my bride." My response is curt.

"For what though? For the six people sitting in the chairs?" He retorts.

"See! Talk to him! He don't get how stupid that is." Randy intervenes.

I choose to spare him before acknowledging Jackie's concern.

"Doesn't matter if it was one person. My woman. My partner. The mother of my children deserves a moment. I could give a flying fuck about who thinks anything less." I drop my arms and lift my leg for the tailor to finish the hem of my pants. "End of story."

I wanted this part to be magical, but I was internally unequipped to manage myself for what happened when the dainty fairy lights went out and all was dark. The setting sun sparing us a gleam as it disappeared.

Then it happened.

A spotlight above swooshed to the entrance of the ceremony the percussions and violins began again, this time an acoustic version of Whitney Houston's rendition of "I Will Always Love You" fills the atmosphere.

The candance of my heart quickly intensifies.

My breath is caught somewhere I cannot find.

Water has already begun brimming in my eye sockets.

She is enthralling.

My God.