Until the Last Breath
“Hey, can you get that for me, please?”
Tessa fetches my phone, looks at the name on the screen, and hands it to me. “What in the hell is he calling you for?”
I stare at the screen. Max. So many thoughts run through my mind—so much about him that I can’t ignore. My happy thoughts about going home fade the longer the phone buzzes.
“Don’t answer it.” Tessa hisses. I don’t even realize she’s at the door. “I’m going to go grab some coffee.”
I nod. When she’s gone, I answer the call.
Whether I want to admit it or not, I have to see Max before I die. I have to look into his eyes at least one more time, tell him that I regret nothing that happened between us. I’m sure that’s what he thinks. That I regret us and all we ever stood for, but I don’t. I’ve accepted it.
I answer the phone and when he speaks, I get that old feeling back—the feeling I used to have when we were together. My hands become clammy, my throat thick with words unspoken. So much…there’s so much I need to say but I don’t say anything right away. I allow him the chance to speak.
“Hey, Shakes.” His voice is smooth, casual.
“Hey.” My voice is light. “I have something to tell you.”
“What’s that?” he asks.
“I’m going home.”
“Are you? That’s good. Makes it easier for me to find you.”
“No,” I say quickly. “You can’t show up. John wouldn’t appreciate knowing a stranger is hanging around me.”
He laughs. “You still haven’t told him what I am to you.”
“No. He’s already been asking questions. Besides, he doesn’t need to know right now. What’s the point?”
“That won’t stop me from coming to see you. Your excuses have never worked on me, Shannon.”
“Max,” I breathe, recalling each and every time I made an excuse and he still showed up.
“I like how we always pick up where we left off,” he says, changing the subject.
I ignore his statement. “We have a lot to talk about.”
“Yes. And that’s why I need to see you.”
“I’m not how I used to be. You know that, right?”
“Listen,” he starts, his voice stern, “stop telling me that. You’ve tried pushing me away over and over again and clearly it’s not working.”
My throat thickens with frustration and shame as I look at my reflection in the mirror. When I catch sight of my frizzy hair and dry lips, tears line the rims of my eyes. “It’s not that I’m pushing you away I just—I mean…” I’m ugly. I’m gross. I’m lethal. I’m damaged. I’m fucking terrified. I don’t want you to hurt too. I sniffle. “I don’t want you to see me. Not like this.”
Max is quiet a moment. “Don’t cry.” When he hears another sniffle, he says, “Stop crying, Shannon.”
I clear myself up a little and then swallow hard, doing my best to fight off the wave of emotion. “Let me see you, prove to you that your looks aren’t what matter to me.”
“You shouldn’t right now. John wouldn’t be pleased.”
“Well, all you have to do is let me know when he won’t be around. If I have to, I’ll sneak you out.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. “He would kill you for that.”
“Let him try.”
The door creaks open and Tessa trots back into the room, blowing over a cup of coffee. “I will let you know. Okay? No need to sneak around. I’ll just have to set a time.”
“Promise me, Shakes.”
I’m silent.
“I really need to see you,” he adds.
“Okay…”
“You can’t keep me away.”
I don’t speak. I don’t know what to say.
“Afraid the good memories will resurface?” he asks, interrupting my silence.
I scoff. “They already have been.”
“Which is why you’re keeping me away? That and because you think I can’t handle seeing you the way you are right now?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, see, the funny thing is I’m looking right at you and I still think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, tubes, IVs, and all.”
Gasping, I look up at the open door and standing between the frames is Max.
THIRTEEN
Max stands just as tall as ever, his hair grown out more from the last time I saw it. His hair is curlier, and he no longer has the clean, shaven face he had during his bachelor days. His facial hair looks good on him.
His black T-shirt hugs his body, the muscles in his arms flexing as he pulls the phone from his ear, smiling so sweetly at me it hurts.
It hurts because I have been trying so hard to keep him away. I don’t want him to see me like this. He’s still so fucking gorgeous and healthy and I’m all skinny and wilted and my blood streams with toxins that are supposed to cure me.
Those old feelings come rushing back and they hit me hard, tackling whatever’s left of my soul. Slowly dropping my phone, I focus solely on him. My lips part, wanting to say so much to him but unsure of where to even begin.