I know it will take a lot more than just gymnastics for her to heal entirely, just like it will take a lot more than my relationship with Max to heal me, mentally and emotionally, but keeping up our friendship has been invaluable. We never thought we’d be this close when we first walked off that plane, but here we are — and I couldn’t ask for a better friend.
And she needs a friend now more than ever. When we talked before I left for this honeymoon trip, she told me her talks with her parents have been a little awkward. “It’s not like they’re upset,” she’d said reluctantly, “it’s just that what happened to me — to us — was never really part of their plan for my life, you know? So they don’t really know what to do with me.”
“Oh my god,” I’d said, shocked. “I’m so sorry, Mag. They’re your parents, I’d hope that they’d be there for you now more than ever.”
“I’m not that sorry,” she’d said unexpectedly, looking me in the eye with a small smile that was braver than I knew she was capable of. “I’ve been smothered my whole life, Liv. Maybe this is a good chance to grow into myself — healing has a lot of change involved already, right?”
She still has plenty of rough days, of course, and her parents are paying for her to have an apartment of her own, since the old dorm holds some rough associations, but it’s a step-by-step process that’s bringing her forward every day. I’m so proud of her, and Max is too.
“Well,” Max says softly into my ear, “don’t get too lost in thought. Don’t forget the last thing we have planned for this evening.”
“How could I forget?” I said, looking back at him, unable to hold back the grin on my face. Despite all of Max’s reticence in the past, he seems to be an endless stream of surprises now. Well, not that he wasn’t exactly a surprising man before. “But we’ve already made a killing at the casinos, should we need to catch the next cab out of here before security decides we won too much?”
Max laughs, kissing me on the neck. “Ah, you’ve got a taste for danger now, what am I going to do with you? But no, we’ll save that for tomorrow,” he says, rubbing my hips. “Come on, let’s get down to the docks — I hope you have an appetite.”
Half an hour later, we’re gliding across the waters on the deck of a large, spacious yacht that’s headed out of the little port and out onto the glittering water that’s painted in the sparkling white ink of the late autumn’s full moon. Lights from the other boats out and about tonight sparkle in the bay like fireflies, and there’s a small fireworks display being put on a little further out, setting the night’s sky aglow with reds and purples and greens, and as I look over to Max as he sits beside me, a plate of fine food in his lap, I see the fire reflected in his eyes, and my heart grows warmer as I snuggle in beside him.
“Not the most quiet place to enjoy escargot,” he admits, and I giggle, taking a sip of the non-alcoholic wine in front of me.
“Are you kidding? This is the smoothest ride I’ve ever had. You need to come check out the boat rides in North Carolina with me sometime.”
“Visit America? That might be something to look forward to, with you,” he says, and we lean in for a quick kiss when a crackling sound behind us catches our attention. I glance back and notice the captain adjusting his radio until the news comes in clearly for a few moments, and I hear the sound of a newscaster speaking in accented English over an international news station.
“. . . and the investigation into a major crime ring bust in Paris is underway in full swing thanks to a particularly tech-savvy anonymous source who has begun collaborating with Parisian and international authorities, identifying himself only as ‘F.’ Correspondents at INTERPOL have refused to comment on the specifics of F’s activities and relation to law enforcement, save that they have been aware of his activities for some time and look forward to discussing a permanent position for F at the agency, citing the value of such independent investigative work. This development has sparked some heated conversation among officials regarding the place of vigilante justice in law enforcement, and . . .”
The sound fades as the captain notices us paying attention, and he gives an embarrassed smile, turning the sound down quickly, but Max is quick to give a smile, letting him know it’s quite alright before he turns to me.
“Sounds like Felix has been keeping busy,” he whispers, and I smile.
“Let’s hope the attention doesn’t get to his head.”