Since she had been discharged from the hospital, Max had always made her feel accepted, but she had misread that, too. It wasn’t acceptance. It was pity and she wasn’t going to be anyone’s charity case.
* * *
Max walked down the tree-lined street, kicking away the occasional stone in his path. He wanted to be alone this evening. He had cancelled gym with Charlie and yet he still could not bring himself to go home. Three days had passed and Danny had not said one word to him. Hurting her feelings was hard enough to deal with, but the silent treatment was driving him crazy.
It was his fault. That much was certain. She had taken a bold step by asking him for a kiss and he rejected it, turned his back and walked away from the very thing he had been chasing for years.
He had been so ready to do it, so ready to taste those lips, possess them, claim them as his own, but in the end he couldn’t do it. Kissing her would make the lie real and he couldn’t do it. She trusted him more than anyone and betraying her trust was not something he was ready or willing to do. His intention was merely to plant the seed and see what happened once her memory returned. He wanted her to have the choice and he wanted to see if that choice was him.
He walked to a bench outside a restaurant called Bon Appetite and sat down. A few minutes went by before the silence was broken by the muffled sounds of two people arguing. Max tried to drown out the noise, but it became louder as they burst through the glass doors of the restaurant.
“Melissa, honey, wait!”
The familiar voice drew Max’s eyes to its owner. They didn’t see him even though they were only a few feet away on the sidewalk. In the midst of a heated argument, neither of them noticed anyone else.
“No, Richard,” the woman said, yanking her hand out of his. “I am tired of your lies. You don’t call me for weeks and then I see pictures of all these half-naked women all over you. Are you really gonna try to deny this?”
Max gritted his teeth and watched as Richard tried to weasel his way out of this trap, using lies to cover up more lies.
“Melissa, there is no-one else, I promise you that.”
“And what about that other woman? The one who was with you the night you asked me for my number. Are you still seeing her?”
Richard smiled, almost amused. “I told you, I stopped seeing her when you and I got together. That was the beginning of February.”
Melissa must have noticed the same amused grin because she slapped him then. “You are a liar and a cheat!” she shouted. “And I never want to see you again.”
She turned on her heel and marched down the street, leaving Richard chuckling on the sidewalk.
Max stood up and walked a few feet to reach the other man. “Hello, Richard,” he said with his usual fake-friendly tone. “Broken any hearts lately?”
“Just one today, I’m afraid.” Richard turned to him and smirked in a way that made his skin crawl. “Anything else you wanted to know?”
“Yes, now that you mentioned it.” Max crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you have any intention of going to see Danny? You remember Danny, right? Your girlfriend? You may have told Melissa that you ended it in February, but we both know that’s not true.”
The amused grin curved on Richard’s face once more. “Let’s cut the shit, Max. I may remember Danny, but from what I hear, she doesn’t remember me and I’d like to keep it that way. So the answer to your question is no. I have no intention of ever seeing her again. You should be happy about it. Now you can have what you always wanted. Keep the nun. I’m not spending another nine months with her just to get some pussy.”
Max’s blood ran cold at his words, then heated up to the point where it felt like it was bubbling under his skin. “You arrogant fucking prick!”
He didn’t think, he just jabbed, a solid punch to Richard’s perfect nose. His head flew back on impact.
Damn, that felt good. But, fuck, it hurt bad! He shook his right hand off to get rid of the sting and when that didn’t work, he placed his left hand over his knuckles as an attempt to absorb the burn. That probably hurt him more than it hurt Richard.
Richard placed his hand over his nose. A steady stream of blood oozed over his fingers. “You son of bitch! I have a shoot tomorrow.”
“Like I give a fuck!” Max used his left hand to punch Richard square in the jaw. Everything he felt was delivered in that punch. His rage. His jealousy. His pure annoyance for having to deal with this guy for so many months. He heard a faint crunch of bone and did not know if it was his hand or the other man’s jaw that had cracked with the sheer force of that punch.
Richard tumbled over and fell hard onto the ground, but he recovered quickly and stood up, menace in his eyes. “You’re gonna pay for that.”
Richard charged at him and with both his hands out of commission, Max decided to use his legs. He attempted a round-house kick he had learnt in tae-bo class, but it lacked so much grace and precision, it would have made Billy Blanks shake his head in shame. If someone had to take a picture of the exact moment his leg collided with Richard, the caption would read: FAILED: Round-house kick? You’re doing it wrong!
Richard threw himself at Max, sending them both crashing to floor. He straddled his legs over Max’s abdomen and started pounding. Max lifted his forearms above his face to protect himself from the heavy blows, but Richard’s furious punches still connected his eye, his cheek, his mouth. There was one point where Max thought his body would go limp from pain.
Richard beat him until he felt he had had enough before he finally stood up. “Remember one thing,” he said, kneeling down on the sidewalk beside Max. “You only have her because I don’t want her anymore.” He rose and after one swift kick to the stomach, he left Max on the ground, squirming in pain.
* * *
Max limped into the apartment. His body ached everywhere. Blood-stains covered his shirt. Slowly, he made his way to the bathroom and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. A bluish-black bruise encircled his right eye and with the swelling, he could barely keep it open. His lip was cut on one side and was jutting out like he had underwent a Botox injection with an infected needle.
As he opened the bathroom cabinet to retrieve the disinfectant, he heard the creak of Danny’s bedroom door. She was in the bathroom behind him within a few seconds.
“Where the hell have you been?” Her tone was harsh, but her voice cracked, very clearly showing her worry.
“Out,” he clipped curtly.
“It’s almost ten o’ clock. You don’t call me. You don’t tell me that you’re gonna be late.”
Max took out the disinfectant and a few cotton balls from the cabinet. “Oh, so you’re talking to me now?”
“Are you saying—” She abruptly stopped speaking when he slammed the cabinet door shut and she saw his reflection in mirror. “Max, what happened to you?”
“I fell down some stairs.” He nipped his lower lip and winced at the pain.
“You’re lying! What happened to you?”
He squirted the disinfectant onto the cotton wool and began cleaning his lip. “I got mugged.”
He turned around and her eyes widened at the full sight of him. His ripped, blood-stained shirt made him look like he had been mauled by a bear. Her lip quivered and he could tell by her constant blinking that there were tears on the verge of falling.
With his swollen, numb hands, he began the tiresome exercise of unbuttoning his shirt. Pulling the shirt off revealed more bruises on chest and forearms and that’s when the tears came.
“Max, please tell me—”
“Drop it, Danny!”
She quickly wiped her eyes and without saying another word, she walked to him. “Sit down,” she said softly.
He limped a few steps and sat down on the edge of the bath tub. She didn’t look at him. Instead, she soaked a hand towel with cold water, dropped to her knees in front of him, and began gently cleaning the cuts on his knuckles. He heard the sniffles, felt the heavy teardrops land on his hand, but she wouldn’t look at him.
“Hey,” he whispered.
There was no response. Turning his wrist slightly, she moved the cloth up to clean the wounds on his forearm.
“Danny?”
She still didn’t look at him as she tossed the hand towel into the basin and grabbed the disinfectant.
Max placed his hand over hers to still her. “Danielle?”
Slowly her head lifted to look up at him, tears escaping her eyes. “Why are you so angry at me? What did I do?”
Max exhaled an exasperated breath as he considered the question. He wasn’t just angry at her. He was angry at everyone. Angry at Amber and Charlie for putting him in a situation where he had to lie to her every day. Angry at Richard for the hateful words that had left his mouth. Angry at Danny for every single thing she had done in the last six years that made him feel invisible. But mostly, he was angry – just angry – because he didn’t know. He didn’t know if she would be looking at him like that had it not been for the accident.
Richard’s words were haunting him. She had never made the choice to be with him, not ever. She had not done one thing to make him believe that what was happening between them was actually real.