Chapter 42
Hunter
I didn’t know it could be like that. I didn’t know that’s how sex could feel.
Sure, I’ve had sex that has blown my mind physically.
But sex in the past, even within relationships, has been something different – a high, a thrill, proof that I was wanted.
To burn so fast that by morning I was a pile of cinders.
To leave feeling drained, even ashamed, like I traded a piece of myself away.
But that? That was different. Every kiss, every thrust, every sound was shot through with a tenderness that took my breath away. How could sex that hot be so loving? I thought passion had to be reckless, destructive, something you paid for later.
Yet here I am, wrecked in the best possible way, and instead of feeling hollowed out, I feel complete. Cherished, even. Being inside Max wasn’t just a physical act, it was like being welcomed into the deepest part of him, a place he’s kept safe for me alone.
It’s a realization so overwhelming that I immediately get up to shower and dress.
Thankfully, I have an excuse for my haste.
As the sun starts to set, we put on our suits and head to the Acropolis.
It’s closed to the public for the day, but has been kept open especially for us this evening.
We arrive at the ticket office at the base and hand over our invitations.
The late evening sun has started to dip, and the sky is streaked with shades of coral and blood orange.
From the moment we begin our ascent, the famous pillars of the Parthenon are visible on the top of the hill.
We snake up a stone path that wraps around the mountain, and I imagine how awe-inspiring it must have been for some country peasant from ancient times to arrive in the city and witness this gleaming temple rising out of the landscape.
When we finally reach the Parthenon, it’s far bigger up close than I was expecting.
The pillars tower fifteen meters above us.
It’s not hard to see why this was once a sacred site.
I feel freshly outraged that anyone could have seized sculptures from here and shipped them to England so they could sit in a museum.
The Parthenon is a heritage site in a state of active restoration, but an area has been cordoned off for tonight’s event.
The reception is a breeze. For starters, there’s no sense that Max and I are faking anything.
It’s not only that our feelings for each other have become real.
We trust each other. We know what we’re here to do.
I feel like a pro. I charm every person I meet.
I sing Max’s praises to all the right people, but it doesn’t feel like strategy.
It’s what I really think of him. He has the patience, the curiosity, the sheer bloody-minded optimism you need in diplomacy.
People open up to him because he listens, and they listen to him because he makes you believe in a better world.
Max could be dropped into a roomful of strangers on the brink of war and somehow they’d leave believing in the possibility of peace.
The difficult part is when attention turns to me.
More than once I’m asked about moving to Athens, how I’d feel about it, how it would affect my acting career.
It’s not that I mind lying. I’m past that.
But it cements the truth in my mind, confirming that I would never want to do what I’m claiming I would. I really wouldn’t be happy here.
Quentin arrives at the reception an hour late, having got lost on the way up.
His sunburn has started to sweat, and it’s an unfortunate metaphor for the state he’s in.
Max and I share a look. It’s hard not to think that this is turning into a cakewalk for Max.
Quentin sees us and wanders over. He raises his glass, clinking it against Max’s.
‘What’s that for?’ Max asks.
‘Oh come on, Max. The job’s yours.’
‘We haven’t done the interview yet.’
Quentin laughs. ‘There’s nothing I can say that’s going to convince them. You’ve got this.’
Max continues to deny it, but it only enforces the fact that Quentin is right.
Eventually, Quentin is accosted by Topsy, who wants him to explain the junior county cricket system – whatever that is – to her friend. Max and I drift away from the gathering and stand looking out at the view of Athens by night.
‘He’s not wrong,’ I say.
Max tries to shrug it off.
‘Hey,’ I say, ‘you’re meant to be the optimistic one.’
Max frowns. ‘They’re not just going to hand it to me. I still have to do a good job tomorrow.’
‘You will. Do you want to run through your pitch?’
Anything to distract myself from the feelings that are swirling inside me.
I make Max stand there and talk to me as if I’m on the interview panel.
He speaks from the heart, explaining why he got into this line of work when he knew he could make twice as much money in the private sector.
He tells me he tries not to think about the bleakness of what humanity is doing to the world because when he does, he feels helpless.
By contrast, when he goes into work each day and helps implement the systems that keep our society running, he feels like he’s making a difference.
Max’s words hit me in the gut. I think a part of me thought he only wanted to do this because that’s what his mom would have wanted. But he really cares. He wants to create a better world. And seeing that brings home the fact that I haven’t just grown fond of him, I don’t just long for him.
I love him.
I love Max. He’s my guy. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. And now that I’m finally able to acknowledge that simple fact, I’m devastated. Because what prompted this was hearing how much he wants this job. The job that would take him away from me.
‘Was that OK?’ Max asks.
I snap back to attention.
‘Yes. That was amazing. You really care about this.’
Max smiles bashfully. ‘Yeah, hopefully I can convince them I do.’
‘No, I mean you actually care. I can tell.’
Max looks almost guilty. ‘Yeah. I guess I do.’
There’s a lump in my throat, but that doesn’t prevent me from returning his gaze sincerely. Even though it’s the last thing I want, I have to give him the gift he gave me.
‘I really hope you get this job, Max. You deserve it.’