Even when he flirted with other girls and his ex-girlfriend had a key and I didn’t, I forgave him. Even when he got drunk and mouthy with me, I forgave him. Even when he was grieving and angry and said hurtful things, I forgave him.
Why? Because I was lonely, and with him I felt loved and seen in some way.
What I realized with Max after the crash was that he wasn’t the type who could handle suffering. Maximilian Grant always had it easy—always had it made—but the death of his parents took a serious toll on him.
If I could go back and change things after the crash, with the baby, the abortion, with Max…I don’t know if I would.
Maybe God was testing my faith back then and I failed him. It’s no wonder he’s taking me away. After all of that, I don’t deserve his mercy.
THIRTY
Three hours later, after putting on a fancy red and white halter-top dress that Tessa had no problem helping me pick out from my closet, me and Max are standing in front of the Eiffel Tower.
It’s way bigger than I expected, and even more beautiful up-close. The photographs and movies don’t give this metal tower justice. It stands tall and firm, built on solid slabs of cement. It’s miraculous, breathtaking, especially as the sun sets behind it.
“It’s so pretty,” I whisper.
Max steps to my side, placing a hand on his hip. He’s wearing black slacks and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
He points up and says, “If you think it’s nice down here, imagine having dinner inside of it.”
I gasp, meeting his eyes. The brightness of them glimmers from the sunlight. “Wait…are you serious? Is that what you told me to dress up for?”
He puts on a simple smile then holds out an elbow. “Damn straight. Come on.”
I hook my arm through his, smiling way too hard, and he leads the way. We enter an elevator with a few other tourists after paying, and as I look out of the windows, my excitement cannot be contained. I can’t believe he booked dinner inside the Eiffel Tower of all places. How can anything top this?
Before I know it, Max is leading the way to a door where a hostess awaits, greeting us in French.
She seats us at a table by the window with a magnificent view. My heart flutters when I realize how high up we are. The cars are like ants and the people like specks. The sun has set even more now, only a sliver of it peeking over the horizon.
“So?” Max says, looking around. “What do you think?”
“I love it, Max. So much. I can’t believe you set all of this up.”
“Well, I had to. I figured you needed to experience one of the best views in the city.” He picks up his menu and I do my best to contain my excitement, picking mine up as well.
A waiter greets us, Max orders a beer and I request a glass of water, and when the waiter is gone Max looks at me with a small smile on his lips.
“What?” I ask.
“You look great, Shakes. Happy.”
“Thanks. Tessa helped me pick my dress out.” I tuck a few loose strands of my hair behind my ear, fighting a blush. I straightened my hair. It’s thin, but nice. “I tried my best to not look sick,” I add, then pick up my backpack. “But this fella right here kinda prevents that.”
He chuckles, warm and deep. “Nah, I dig it. You made it work.”
My laughter fills the space around us.
“So listen,” he says, sighing. “I know we promised not to bring up the past or anything, but I can’t help myself. I mean, we have this view right in front of us, I’m spending time with one of the most amazing women I’ve ever met in my life.” He looks up, stopping mid-sentence. It’s like he’s waiting to see if I will stop him from talking, but I don’t. This has been on my mind as well, I’ve just done my best to avoid bringing it up. “I wanted to talk about what happened with us. I feel like we never gave ourselves closure…”
“Okay.” I run my palms over the lap of my dress. “How about we talk about it once we order.”
“Good idea.”
The waiter returns several minutes later with Max’s bottle of beer. I reach for my water and sip as Max does. Once we’ve ordered our food, the waiter takes off with it, leaving me and Max at the table by ourselves again.
“How did you even get a spot here?” I ask, hoping to smooth out some of the tension. “I’m sure this place is always booked.”
“I know a guy who knows a guy. He didn’t mind hooking me up.”