“You’d better go. I’ll make sure my bags are in order,” I mumbled as I pulled away from him. Max caught my hand and stopped me from walking away. He caressed his finger under my chin, urging me to look up at him. His eyes searched for every answer, and the edges of his lips curved and curled as he grappled with the promises he wished he could keep. I closed my eyes as his fingers pushed my hair out of my face.
“Whatever I have to do, I’ll make sure to get to you as fast as I can. Three days, tops. I will not be separated from you for five months. That’s just not an option for me,” Max whispered as I opened my eyes. He leaned in slowly, almost hesitantly, and kissed me sensually. His lips traced down my cheek and across to my mouth before he nibbled at my bottom lip. He kissed me like he was memorizing every last piece of that moment. His lips were moist enough to generate electricity between us. His eyes almost shut as he pulled away just enough to whisper “I love you” before he continued to passionately kiss me.
I felt my eyes fill with tears. My throat tightened, and even though I wanted to keep kissing him like that forever, my lips quivered at the thought of having to be separated from him. Just when we found our way back to one another, God decided to play a cruel joke and yank us apart. I felt the warm tears trace down my cheeks as they became replaced by cold, wet lines of defeat. Max wrapped his hands around my face and his fingers tangled in my hair as his thumbs wiped away my tears.
“I’m sorry,” I choked as Max pulled me into a tight embrace.
“Shhhh, listen to me…I will fix this. I promise, don’t worry,” Max slipped his hand around my head and pushed me against his chest.
“Max! We are waiting…” Camille hollered again.
“I’d better go back. I just got up and left the meeting. I couldn’t take it any longer. Didn’t want to hear another word about what my father expects from me,” Max said with his lips pushing against the top of my head. I grabbed the back of his black t-shirt in fistfuls, trying to pull him closer to me. Whether it was just a notion in my head or a belief that I had, I couldn’t be the one to let go first this time. I just buried my face in his chest and inhaled his aroma—it was the scent of a cold winter morning in Aspen mixed with a warm summer evening in California.
“Baby,” Max mumbled as he caressed his hands against my cheeks and urged me to pull back from him. “You know you are my everything,” he said as his eyes danced.
“I know. It’s all going to work out. You need to go. Remember…I trust you.”
My head knows exactly what needs to happen, it’s just my heart…I can’t seem to get past the idea of spending time without you. I looked down at the front of his t-shirt and noticed my tears had soaked random spots across his chest. Max pulled up on my chin and pressed his inviting lips to mine.
“My heart belongs to you,” he whispered. I pushed myself so intensely against him, it caused him to shuffle back a couple of steps. God, I love kissing him. No matter how long we’re apart, I will never get spooked again.
“Max…Oh! Hi, Wilson. Sorry to interrupt. We really need to finish up with Dad’s will,” Camille said as she stood in the doorway of the dining room. She looked worn out. Her face was pale and sunken with red splotches just below her cheekbones. Her normally glossy hair was dull and disheveled. She looked worse than the day her father died.
“Nothing like listening to my father’s wishful thinking,” Max sighed breathily. Camille heard this and rolled her eyes. Max turned, heading to the great room and I spun around and started upstairs.
“Wait, Wilson, aren’t you coming with us?” Camille’s voice floated toward me.
“No, I have to get back to California. I’m leaving in the morning, so I need to make sure I’m all packed.” I noticed Max had stopped at the entry of the dining room when I heard him mumble something to his sister about wanting this to be over.
“Max, you need to accept what Dad has given you. Dan would kill for that position,” Camille spat as she walked past him and slapped him across the shoulder.
“Well, he won’t have to wrestle me for the job. Gary will find the loophole and Dan can just have it.”
I don’t know how I could be so torn. I wanted him to come with me, be with me, and follow his dreams; and yet, I ached that he wasn’t going to do what his father wanted him to do. It was the small, hidden place I filled with all the what-ifs that started to drown me. The game I played in my head my whole life. What if I knew my bio-dad? What if Candi never gave me up? What if my grandparents were still alive? What if I leave and Max never comes back to California? I had a pit in my stomach. God, I hate the what-if game.