This is not how I imagined my day would end—waiting for Michael's release in the detention center to be processed. The police officers later had their ways with arresting him. I had followed them, insisting that the eye witness's evidence is not substantial for the case.
"Why not call your lawyer?" one of the officers suggested.
And I did. I called an old friend and an hour later, he showed up and told them the exact same thing I have been saying. This time around, they had agreed to his request to be released immediately.
Why my lawyer friend's request was listened to faster than mine is what I haven't placed. Was it all because of his profession? Or does it have anything to do with his gender?
Michael comes into view while I am still trying to figure out which one of it exactly happened. I tuck it at the back of my mind and rush towards him.
We hug each other as long as we can.
"I missed you."
"I missed you more."
