“Maxx. You’re here,” I said blandly, as if I weren’t torn in two at the sight of him.
It had only been a little over a week since I had gone to the rehab facility, but somehow seeing him here, on campus, was so much harder. It felt wrong and familiar at the same time.
Maxx, the student, had always felt like such a contrast to the Maxx I had met in the support group and later the Maxx I knew at the club. He had been a man with many lives who lived in many different worlds. It had taken me a long time to reconcile myself to the person he was in each and how they all coexisted inside of the same body.
I stared at this Maxx and wondered which one he was. The look in his eyes reminded me ofmyMaxx. The man who loved me. But there was a tired vacancy that was reminiscent of thatotherMaxx. The one who had needed his drugs more than he had ever needed me.
Maxx rubbed his finger along the bridge of his nose and gave me a shy smile that was completely out of character. “Yeah, well, I have a meeting with my adviser. I had to withdraw from classes, you know, when I went into rehab. Now I’m hoping to sort out some summer-school classes and see how far behind I really am. I have a feeling I’m screwed no matter what I do,” he said matter-of-factly, without a hint of self-pity.
“That sucks, I’m sorry,” I replied lamely, not really knowing what I was supposed to say. It felt weird having random small talk with him like this.
Maxx kicked at a piece of gravel, and the surprisingly juvenile action tugged at my hardened heart. “Well, I only have myself to blame,” he said, putting his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.
This time I didn’t respond. It wasn’t the time or place to have the conversation that statement warranted.
I nodded my head toward his jeans, which still showed traces of colored chalk at the knees.
“You’ve been busy,” I said, sounding irritated.
Maxx looked almost embarrassed.
“Yeah, well, when the muse strikes and all that,” he muttered, not meeting my eyes.
“And the muse struck outside my apartment building?” I questioned.
“It always brings me back to you, I guess,” he said softly, and my heart thumped wildly and threatened to explode out of my chest.
“You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope,” Maxx murmured, almost under his breath.
Christ, Maxx was quoting Jane freaking Austen. I had to get out of there, and fast.
I cleared my throat and pulled my messenger bag farther onto my shoulder.
“I’d better get going,” I said, trying to sidestep him.
He reached out, his hand catching mine, his fingers loosely grasping. I startled at the contact. It was such an innocent touch, but I felt it in my bones.
“I told you last week that when I got out I hoped you wouldn’t shut the door in my face if I showed up. That drawing was my way of asking you if you would. If it was okay if I ended up there.”
My hand shook a bit as I pulled away from his hold.
“And I think it’s too soon to tell, Maxx. You need to focus on you. Not on me,” I told him sharply.
“What if I said there was no me without you?” he asked, chewing on his lip. An innocent movement that spoke volumes about his lack of confidence. I swallowed hard and clenched my hands into fists so I wouldn’t throw my arms around him. Or smack him in the face. The jury was still out.
“Then I’d tell you that it was time you figured out who you are on your own. That you can’t base your future on something that won’t happen. Because you and me, Maxx, we’re over. We have been for a while now.” I knew I didn’t sound as convincing as I wanted to. Damn it!
Maxx shook his head. “You don’t mean that. I won’t let you mean that.”
“You won’t let me?” I scoffed. “I don’t think you have much of a choice in the matter.”
“We always have a choice, Aubrey. And this time, mine is you. I know you need me to prove to you that things will be different. ThatI’mdifferent. I also know it’ll take time. I’m going to work on being patient. And even though every fiber of my body wants to drag you back to my apartment where I can spend the entire day showing you exactly how much I love you, I’ll wait. Until you’re ready.” Maxx’s eyes heated and burned into mine. He reached out and softly stroked his finger along the length of my face, and I flinched. He dropped his hand instantly.
“I won’t give up on us, Aubrey. I can’t,” he said with a promise.
That’s what I’m worried about,I thought, but didn’t say out loud.
“I’ve got to go,” I said again, needing to leave. Needing to flee.
