Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Zoe
I’m in the passenger seat of Max’s car, trying desperately to stop the waterworks. I can’t believe I’m crying—again. This whole crying thing is not helping me lately, and right now, when I’m supposed to be all strong and independent, it’s completely backfiring.
I wipe at my tears, frustration burning in my chest. “Great, just great,” I mutter under my breath. “This is not how I wanted this to go.”
Max glances over at me, concern etched on his face. “Zoe, it’s okay. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”
I sniffle, shaking my head. “You don’t get it, Max. I do need to be strong. I need to figure out my future”—I pause, my hand instinctively touching my belly—“the baby’s future, and crying isn’t helping.”
It’d be so much easier to deal with his rejection. When I’m upset, the tears remain where they belong, away. If something cute or nice happens, I just lose it, and this man telling me that he loves me . . . Well, I’m not sure where to go from here.
He can’t love me. My plan was better. He was supposed to sign the papers—without freaking out the way he did earlier—and I would just figure out how to be the best parent. No messy entanglements.
Max pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns off the engine. “Hey,” he says softly, turning to face me. His eyes are warm, filled with an emotion I’m afraid to name. “It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. This is a lot to process for both of us.”
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “This is not me being overwhelmed.” I sniff, hating how weak I sound. “It’s me every single moment of the day. Puppy commercials and Zoe cries. The mailman brought the mail to my door because the box was falling apart . . . cue tears. It’s just . . .” I trail off, my voice cracking. “And I’m sure people won’t take me seriously if I continue doing this.”
Max reaches out, hesitating for a moment before gently taking my hand. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through me, and I fight the urge to pull away. “Zoe,” he says, his voice low and earnest, “no one’s going to think less of you for having emotions. Especially not me.” He raises an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about other people?”
“Since I lost my shit in front of a potential client,” I groan, rubbing my temples.
“Puppy-related incident?” he asks, taking my hand and kissing it softly.
I try to pull it away, but he doesn’t let me. I sigh, defeated. “No, he was telling me about his children and how they were expecting number three. The way he talked about his wife was so . . .” I sob again, hating how easily the tears come.
“So, the baby is softening you, huh?” he says, his voice gentle.
“I don’t know what the baby is doing but . . .” I pause, suddenly aware of our surroundings. “That’s not why you’re here, is it?” I look around, confused. “Why did we stop?”
He dries my cheeks with the back of his hand, his touch tender. “Because I want to make sure you’re okay before we drive to my place where I want us to talk and even though we won’t solve our future, we at least can try to figure out where to start.”
“I’m fine. Even when it seems like I can’t handle anything,” I insist, straightening my shoulders. “And now, with everything happening, I feel like I’m losing that control and everyone is going to see me as weak. What kind of lawyer am I going to be?”
Max reaches over, taking my hand in his. His palm is warm against mine. “You’re not weak, Zoe, far from it. You’re one of the strongest people I know. But even strong people need a moment to let it all out.”
I look down at our joined hands, his touch grounding me. “I hate feeling like this. Like I can’t handle my own emotions.”
He squeezes my hand gently. “You’re handling them, even if it doesn’t feel like it. And you don’t have to handle them alone.”
I let out a shaky sigh, feeling a small sense of relief wash over me. “I just . . . I don’t know what to do next. Everything feels so uncertain.”
Max nods, his eyes filled with understanding. “We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time. Right now, let’s just focus on getting through today.”
I nod, finally feeling a bit calmer. “Okay. One step at a time.”
He gives me a reassuring smile, his dimples showing, and starts the car again, merging back into traffic. As we drive, I can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, we can figure this out together.