Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Maxwell pulled into a parking space outside Jasmine’s building.
He must have hit every red light on the way there.
It was the most frustrating drive of his life.
He felt as if his very existence hung in the balance.
Every minute he couldn’t talk to Jasmine was a minute she believed the absolute worst about him, and none of it was true.
Before he left his place, he had pulled out the contents of the gift bag.
The silver frame contained a photo of the two of them that someone had taken their second night in New Orleans.
They were on the street, with his arm around her shoulders, her head tipped back mid-laugh because of something he had whispered in her ear.
The combination of their apparent enjoyment and the lights casting a golden glow across their features resulted in what looked like a magazine ad.
Right before that, a street musician had pulled Jasmine into an informal two-step, and she had laughed the entire time. He captured a video and a couple of photos of her, which she had complained about, but he told her she would appreciate having them later, and she did.
The card included in the bag was more gut-wrenching than the photo. He had read it twice, each line twisting like a knife in his chest.
Maxwell,
I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I keep thinking about something my sister said the night we had dinner at her place.
She told me to enjoy our relationship and don’t hold back. It made me realize that I’ve been so busy protecting myself from getting hurt again, that I’ve been holding back. Because I was scared.
This picture is from our second night in New Orleans. When I look at our faces, all I see is happiness. But more than that, I see a new me.
I don’t know how to end this without sounding corny, but I want you to know that I love you. Very much.
I’m not scared anymore. I know my heart is safe with you.
Yours always, Jasmine
He couldn’t imagine how much it had cost her to bare her soul in that way and become vulnerable to him. She had poured her heart out on paper and then driven to his condo to leave it as a surprise.
Then she had found Jenny.
Maxwell exited his SUV, not caring his vehicle sat askew in the lines, effectively taking up two spaces.
Although he had a key to Jasmine’s apartment, he didn’t yet have a key card.
Lucky for him, two residents were exiting as he approached.
He smiled confidently, as if he belonged there, and they held the door for him as they left, allowing him to slip in as he murmured Thank you.
On the ride up in the elevator, he plotted out what he was going to say, but when he arrived at her door, he scrapped the rehearsed words. Nothing seemed adequate.
In her current state, he knew she wouldn’t let him in if he knocked, so he used his key, expecting the door to give. Instead, it caught on the safety chain, hard-stopping with a metallic rattle. His heart sank. He couldn’t see anything through the small gap except the wall.
He pushed again, as if the circumstances would change. Of course they didn’t. Frustrated, he rested his forehead against the door and spoke through the crack.
“Jasmine? I know you can hear me. Listen, I talked to Jenny, and yes, I know her. From way back. We went to high school together and ran into each other at Jayson’s Valentine’s Day party. We talked for a while at the party. She got married after college but is divorced now and has a kid.”
He was saying too much and talking too fast, but that’s what panic did to a person. He wasn’t himself. Every ounce of composure he’d ever possessed had been stripped away.
“Jayson let her into my place. That’s what she told me.
I called him on the way over but couldn’t reach him, but I’m going to get to the bottom of this.
I swear. Babe...” His voice wobbled, completely unrecognizable.
“This is all a big misunderstanding. I would never cheat on you. I haven’t looked at another woman since you and I have been together. ”
Silence. He heard the distant sound of the television in the apartment next door. He heard his heart beating loud and fast in his throat.
“Jasmine?”
He heard movement inside, and his heart leaped with hope.
“I never want to see you again.” She spoke from the opposite side of the door, her voice hoarse.
Maxwell swallowed past the pain the hurtful words caused. “Open the door, babe. Let’s talk about this.”
“I regret I ever met you.”
He winced. “You might regret it, but I don’t. Meeting you changed my life forever. For the better.”
“There you go, using the old Maxwell charm. You played me.”
“I didn’t. I swear. Jayson can explain everything.”
“Do you think I’ll believe Jayson? Your best friend? The man who played my friend Myra after the night they hooked up at NV Lounge? That Jayson?”
Maxwell closed his eyes and pressed his palm flat against the door. If only he could push the truth through the wood and make her believe him. He couldn’t blame her for not accepting Jayson as an alibi.
“I admit he’s not perfect, but Jenny said he’s the one who let her into my place. I didn’t.”
“I should’ve known better.” Her tone had gone flatter and contained less emotion.
She sounded resigned, which was worse than anger.
“I saw you for who you were from the beginning, and I let you convince me that what I knew to be true wasn’t true.
You made me believe that I had finally found a good man. ”
“You did.” His voice shook. “I read the card that you wrote. If you meant those words, you owe both of us the chance to move forward from this before you throw our relationship away.”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare blame what happened on me. This is all you. And don’t you dare use what I wrote against me.”
“I’m not using them against you. I’m asking you to remember how you felt when you wrote them.
” He blew out a silent breath, racking his brain for the right words.
“Let’s go somewhere and talk. Somewhere quiet.
I-I’ll take you to dinner, and we can figure out how to get past this bump in the road. Just the two of us.”
“You can’t bribe your way out of this,” Jasmine said.
Her words crushed him. “That’s not what I’m trying to do.”
“How could you, Max? You fooled me and made me believe in something that’s not true. Why did you do that? You promised. Why did you do that, Maxwell?” Her voice shook and broke on his name, like someone trying not to cry but failing anyway.
The sound of her pain gutted him, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
He could feel her sorrow. Her distress. Listening to the woman he loved cry because of something she believed he had done made him want to put his fist through the wall.
How could he fix this? How could he convince her that what she saw wasn’t the whole story and that he had been sincere with her the entire time?
“Jasmine, please. I love you. I would never—”
She tried to shut the door, but he braced his shoulder against it, keeping it open.
“I don’t want to hear your lies. Get away from the door.”
“No. Babe, please.” He had never begged for anything in his life, but he would drop to his knees if he thought it would make a difference.
“Get away from the door, Maxwell. The game is over. Leave me alone.”
“Our relationship wasn’t a game. Everything I said and did was honest and true. I swear to you. I love you. You love me.”
“Get away from the door. I don’t want to call the police, but I will.”
“Jasmine, you’re wrong about me.”
“Get away from the door!” Her scream whipped through the gap—raw, sharp, and final.
Maxwell didn’t want to move, but she was emotionally at her end. He stepped back, and the door slammed shut. The deadbolt turned.
He stared at the door, hating this wooden object that had cut him off from the love of his life. Then his legs gave out. They simply ceased to support him. His back hit the wall opposite, and he slowly sank to the floor.
He lost track of how long he sat there. At one point his phone buzzed with a text.
It could’ve been from Jayson, but he didn’t have the energy to check.
He kept staring at the door. He sat there so long the feeling of panic that had propelled him across town to her apartment transformed into something deeper and blacker that felt a lot like grief.
Her neighbor came out of the unit next door and paused, looking at him for a second with curiosity. Then, perhaps he figured out what was going on, and his expression changed to one of pity before he headed down the corridor.
Maxwell waited until the elevator doors closed before he got to his feet. His steps were slow and heavy, indicative of the burden of loss he carried.
When he climbed into his vehicle, he sat there for a while, staring at her building and the window on the fourth floor where her apartment was located.
Was this karma punishing him for all the women he had hurt throughout the years? For the games he had played? For the hearts he had broken?
Had to be.
For the first time in his life, he had lost someone who mattered. And he was terrified there might be nothing he could do—charm, smile, bribe—to win her back.