MAX
I rang the bell, trying to breathe like this wasn’t wrecking me, but my lungs were heavy. I ran my hand through my hair, my go-to move when I wanted to look like I had it together. It didn’t help.
Before the second chime rang, Emma opened the door.
She looked like she always did when reading: a little rumpled, with her hair tucked behind one ear and that faraway look lingering in her eyes.
Her smile was small and uncertain. I could tell she was just as nervous as I was.
I stepped inside, intending to walk over to the couch, but she stopped me with a sentence that already gutted me.
“I need to tell you something.”
Every muscle in me went tight, the way it does right before you hear something you don’t want to. “Em,” I said, my voice thin. “I have to go first. Please. I know what you’re going to say, and I need you to hear me.”
Those beautiful, devastating eyes were fixed on mine. They had a way of tearing down every wall I had ever built. I took a deep breath to calm myself down.
“Emma,” I said, then stopped. I looked down at my hands, then back at her, the words stuck in my throat. “I… I fell in love with you in that bookstore. You saw right through me and didn’t let me hide behind the… cocky act, but somehow still made me feel at ease. That’s when I knew.”
I reached for her hand, then pulled back, my fingers twitching. “And I know I don’t deserve you… I know that.”
“Max,” she whispered, the way she said my name always steadier than I felt.
“No, baby… it’s just the truth.” My throat burned, but I kept going.
“You’re unbelievably kind. You’re so goddamn beautiful and way too smart for me.
And I get it – I really do – that you need space to write…
that you feel you have to leave to find a new place.
If I could… I would pack up right now and follow you anywhere.
But I can’t – not yet. My life keeps me here a little longer.
In a few years, I’ll be done, and then I’ll go wherever you want to go. ”
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my voice before I went on.
“And look, I know I’m supposed to be noble. I’m supposed to step aside and tell you to chase your dreams. But screw that. I’m not that strong, Em. Being noble doesn’t get me you. And I need you.”
I closed the small gap between us, looking down at her, my shadow falling over her. My voice dropped to a desperate, ragged plea. “Emma, I love you. So I’m asking… please. Stay. Pick me. Pick us.”
For a second, I thought maybe I’d gotten through. She looked at me so tenderly, like she was memorizing me.
“Max, I’ve loved every moment we spent together.
I love how safe you make me feel, even when I don’t want to admit that I need it.
I love how you light up when you talk about the game and how you look at me like I’m the only one in the room.
I love the way your arms fit around me, the way you kiss me like you can’t help yourself, and the way you let me see the parts of you that you keep hidden from everyone else. ”
“Then why does this feel like goodbye?” I asked, because I was desperate to claw back what was slipping through my fingers.
“I’m leaving,” she said, so quietly I almost missed it. “I’m going back to London.”
I swear, my heart broke then.
“I need to leave, to figure out what I want without…”
“Without me,” I finished for her.
She looked at me, her eyes soft but aching. “Max… if I stay, it won’t be my choice, not really. It will be because of you. And God, that’s tempting.”
I felt a flicker of hope – sharp and cruel – before she crushed it.
“But if I stay without choosing myself first, I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering who I might have been.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “I’ve spent my whole life uprooting myself – new cities, new faces, pretending it’s all part of my method. Maybe it is. But I need to know if I can stand still for once, and do it because I chose to.”
She swallowed, her voice wobbling. “So I need some time. I hate even saying it, but don’t call me. If you call, I’ll pick up. Every time. And then I’ll never give myself the chance to figure it out for myself.”
I almost tried to argue, to say that was impossible, but the words died in my throat. She was pleading with me to let her go.
“Are you coming back?” I asked, hating the way my voice betrayed me.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I need time to think about everything. Me. Us.”
Nope. That was it. That was the exact moment my heart broke.
I wanted to tell her not to do this, to beg her to stay, to promise her we could work it out together, but I could tell that she had already decided. And when Emma made up her stubborn mind, nothing in the world could change it.
So instead, I asked the only thing I could think of. “Can I kiss you?”
It sounded so small. Pathetic, really. I waited, my heart pounding so hard it hurt. I was terrified she’d say no – and almost more scared she’d say yes, because I knew what a yes meant now.
She didn’t move at first. Then she did – the smallest nod, the kind that ends things.
I pulled her close and kissed her hard. It was the kind of kiss that said everything words couldn’t, hungry and desperate.
I kissed her like I could anchor her here with me, like if I gave her everything I had, maybe she’d remember and never let go.
Her hands gripped my shirt, her breath breaking against my mouth.
For a few stolen seconds, it felt like I could keep her.
When I finally let go, I pressed my forehead to hers. The quiet hit like a crash. I tried to memorize the smell of her shampoo, the warmth of her skin – anything to hold onto her a little longer. “Don’t forget about me,” I whispered.
I didn’t wait for her to answer. I couldn’t. I walked out before she could see me fall apart, leaving my whole damn heart behind with her.