“Yeah, sorry. Guess I’m still a little fucked up,” he added quickly, taking a heaping forkful of food and forcing it into his mouth.
After they ate, Michael dropped Angel off then headed home. They had barely spoken during the meal and the drive back to Angel’s was strained. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. Ever since the incident, Michael’s ability to connect had become almost nonexistent. The shame he felt made him feel unworthy of any sort of kind words, compassion, or friendship. Every time someone approached him, he withdrew behind the protocol of being a cop. Michael let the badge stand in for his soul and Angel worked overtime to keep Michael connected to the rest of the force. Connected to life was more like it.How would he ever make it up to Angel? The idea of being a burden to his partner ate at his pride like a parasite.