The three words that could have changed everything.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Max
My mind is a jumbled, incoherent mess, and that never happens.
I fucking lost her.
By the time I’ve walked back to my apartment, I can’t feel my fingers, I can’t feel my toes. Everything is frozen and all that’s left is a hollow throb, like everything inside me has gone quiet.
Anna’s in the bathroom when I return, so I go straight to my en suite, turn the water to scorching, and step under the spray. The heat pricks my skin like a million tiny bee stings, waking up nerves I didn’t realize had gone numb.
By the time I step out, dry off, and change into warm clothes, I feel like dead weight.
But the night isn’t over yet.
I pad into the kitchen and flick on the kettle. Tea for Anna. A hot toddy for me.
I scrub my hand down my face, bone-deep exhausted, when a small voice chimes in from behind me.
“Hi,” Anna says softly.
I turn, hand her a mug, and walk us both to the sofa, placing my glass on the coffee table.
For a long time, we sit in silence. Neither of us utters a word.
“What happened?” I ask, resting my elbows on my thighs.
Her lower lip wobbles. “We had a fight. I mentioned that April and James are trying for a baby, and he lost it. Said I keep bringing up the same conversation over and over, and that he’s already told me where he stands and nothing’s going to change his mind.” She swipes her cheek with the back of her hand. “So, I gave him an ultimatum. I told him I couldn’t keep waiting around to see whether he would change his mind—he said he wouldn’t.”
I wait, seeing she hasn’t finished.
“He said…” Her words falter. “He said maybe it was time we stopped torturing ourselves and just accepted that we want different things. That staying together would only make it harder for both of us.”
“Jesus, Anna.” I rub the back of my neck.
“I really wish he’d changed his mind… our life was so amazing otherwise,” she whispers.
“I’m so sorry.”
She reaches for the tissue box on the coffee table, and I hang my head, totally defeated.
She manages a watery smile. “It’s for the best.”
I lift my chin. “Don’t do that. Don’t try to be strong. You don’t have to pretend, Anna.”
Her fingers fiddle with the handle of the mug. “It hurts, Max,” she says, her eyes glistening. “It really hurts.”
I scoot over to her, encasing her in my arms. I rock her back and forth as she cries, and I let her. I let her wail. Let her scream. I let her push against me, but I don’t let go.
We sit like that for what feels like hours until her sobs finally subside.
“You know,” I break the silence, “when Casey and I split, I thought I’d never recover from it. I knew I couldn’t stay insomething that wasn’t working, but I also knew that holding on to what was already dead would only hurt us both more. It would have been dishonest to keep pretending.”
She looks at me, her eyes red-rimmed.
