Until the Last Breath

“You won’t lose me. I will always be here, Max. I will always be right there.” I point at the heart of his chest.

He struggles to put on a smile. “How can you take this so lightly?”

“I guess I’ve just gotten used to the idea of not being here anymore.”

A flash of pain runs across his face, like a quick shadow. He tries hiding it but I spot it as clear as day. “I haven’t.”

Our eyes lock, only briefly. Then I look away, down at my lap. The nausea has faded now.

“Uh, listen.” He points to the bike, changing the subject quickly, and I’m glad. “I know you can’t ride that thing so what do you say we pretend to be E.T. and Elliot. I pedal and you ride this baby to the moon.”

“That is a very odd scenario,” I giggle. “But okay.” I clasp my hands together, standing as I adjust my jetpack. “Let’s do it!”

The corners of his mouth quirks up as he grabs the bike handles and steadies it. After helping me sit, he orders me to hang onto him as he grips the handlebar. I climb on behind him and clutch him around the middle, way too giddy for this ride.

“Ready?” he asks over his shoulder, excitement laced in his deep voice.

“Yeah, I think so.” I look around. People are leaving the garden now. “I think they’re closing,” I say, but he totally disregards me, pushing off and pedaling forward.

I yelp, clinging tighter to him as the cool breeze rushes by me, blowing through my hair. Max zigzags through the garden, riding right by tourists, laughing heartily as we whiz past boxed hedges.

“Hey!” A security guard calls after us.

“Oh shit!” Max pedals faster as the security guard starts to run in our direction. I squeal as he makes a large loop and zooms through the perfectly trimmed grass, hurrying for the exit.

“Oh my God!” I shout, laughing as I look over my shoulder. Max speeds through the park exit, pedaling until the security guard stops and waves a fuming fist at us, huffing rapidly.

Glancing over his shoulder, Max breaks out laughing, riding the bike casually for about two minutes until we come to a stop in front of a museum.

I hop off the bike, exhilarated and laughing so hard my chest hurts. Max kicks the kickstand down, glancing back once more to make sure we aren’t being followed.

“That was insane!” I shout.

“I guess we were riding too fast, huh?” he laughs.

“Way too fast. You’re insane!”

“Still a rebel,” he says with a shrug. His eyes soften a touch as he looks me over briefly. He then points his line of sight to a museum across the street. “I heard Mona Lisa’s smile is in the Louvre.”

“Yeah. We have to go see her. Tomorrow morning, please?” I beg, turning to face him.

“Tomorrow it is, Shakes. For now, I need to get you back to the hotel for some rest.”

My chest heaves and Max grabs my hand, eyebrows lifting with concern. “Ten minute check?”

I hold two thumbs up. “All good. I feel the OPX kicking in.”

“Okay. Good.” He brings me forward by the shoulders, his eyes turning soft. “I think that’s enough excitement for today, though. Let’s go.”

He pushes the kickstand back, grabbing the handlebars and walking with me at my pace. He doesn’t make me feel weird or awkward about how slow I’m going.

Even as people pass by us, walking swiftly, ready to explore the next big thing, he doesn’t mind it and I have to admit, this feels nice. The sun is beneath the horizon now, the moon taking its wake. The city night lights are on, twinkling like stars. I smell pasta and tomato sauce and coffee and bread. So many aromas, yet somehow it all blends to perfection.

Max talks about the security guard as we walk and I tease him about how he could have ended up in jail somewhere. Our mix of laughter and chatter continues, even in The Metro and during the train ride back to the hotel.

When we get back to the hotel, I hang out in Max’s room for a while. We watch funny French movies and chow down on macarons Max ordered from the cafe, not having a clue what in the hell the shows are saying.

Around 2 a.m., I’m yawning and ready for bed.

“You need your rest. It’s been a long day,” Max murmurs.

“Yeah. I think I need to switch out my OPX bag too.”

Max doesn’t hesitate to pick me up in his arms and take me to the door that connects to my room. He walks through the threshold, placing me on the center of the bed and then going for my suitcase, pulling out one of the plastic bags.

He grabs my silver device next, unlatching the hook, taking out the nearly empty bag, and applying the new one.