I remember each beautiful and heartbreaking moment.
Every touch. Every breath.
Everything.
Every time I close my eyes, I will think of Maximilian Grant. Every time I think of club Capri, drink pink moscato, or do a quick shoulder jig to fast-paced music, I will think of him. Max will never be forgotten. My memories of him will forever be cherished and that brings me some sort of comfort.
When the sun is higher in the sky, I sit up and kiss Max on the forehead. One of my tears drops on his cheek. I wipe it away carefully.
I guess it’s time.
“Thank you for everything, Max. For putting up with my craziness. For loving me despite all of my flaws and all of my trauma. For taking risks with me and being a complete goofball with me when I needed it most.” I sob and laugh, shaking my head.
“You can rest now, okay?” I stroke his forehead with the pad of my thumb, then lean down once more, kissing the apple of his cheek. “I will love you always,” I whisper. “And I will always remember you, even when the time comes and I’m taking my last breath.”
Epilogue
Two Years Later
I’ve dreamed of traveling the world so many times before, but I never thought I’d actually be able to go anywhere after being diagnosed with Onyx Pleura.
For the last two years I have been checked every single month for OP, but on this twenty-fourth month, I don’t have to go back until every three months for a routine check. I have never felt more blessed.
It has been tough dealing with my losses, but I have moved forward. I am feeling much better, and now that things are picking up with me and John, and Tessa has gotten married, I couldn’t ask for a more perfect life.
Today I am really happy though. Why? Because me, John, Tessa, and Danny are in Dubai.
Fucking Dubai!
This happened because John was given another chance to compete in a cook off in Vegas. All the chefs surprisingly wanted to do another competition after they’d heard about why he’d fled the competition two years ago to go to Paris. The competition took place five months later, during the winter.
It was great. Really great. The thing is, John actually had a clear head and I was able to go this time. I sat in the front row and cheered my adorable husband on.
John came in second place in Vegas. The chef that came in first place was a Japanese professional with three chain restaurants and, apparently, he’s a big deal. For John to come in second place to him was incredible.
It was such a close call that dozens of reps came to John, offering him many golden opportunities to travel the world, create new dishes, and put his name out there even more.
Of course, he took most of the opportunities. We did have to move from Charlotte to Miami when he opened up his very own restaurant, but it wasn’t a bad move and his restaurant is thriving.
This is why we’re now in Dubai. I’m sitting on the edge of the king-sized hotel bed. The room is gorgeous, full of the warmest colors. Browns, burgundies, beiges, and accents of gold.
I put my dangly gold earrings in one by one, staring absently at the shimmering ocean through the picture window ahead of me.
When I’m done placing my earrings in, I stand and walk to the window, and as I stare out at the ocean water, how it shimmers and the waves clash, I can’t help but think of Max.
Max and I never went to a beach—well, we tried to, but due to certain life changing circumstances, it didn’t work out. There was a lot we left unsaid and a lot I wish I could go back and change, but when I think about it all, I am at peace with it now.
Max and I were complicated from the start, our back and forth wishy-washiness some sort of child-like game we secretly loved. I actually smile when I think back to the time he saved me from losing my job.
I wonder sometimes what his last words would have been to me. After Eugene had the doctors pull the plug, I always wonder what he would have said.
About two weeks after his death, we’d finally returned home. I was healing and had the green light to go. John got me home and settled in. He’d checked the mail the next morning and brought a letter up to me.
It had a stamp of the Eiffel Tower on the top right corner and my name and address were scribbled on the front of the envelope in Max’s handwriting. I knew his handwriting very well. There was no return address. He probably did that on purpose. He knew I’d know his handwriting.