Chapter 28
Max
When your insecurity is at its lowest, it becomes a web you struggle to untangle yourself from. I’ve been there plenty of times myself.
The palms of my hands gently brush her wet cheeks, leaving glistening trails across her flushed skin.
I cradle her face between my calloused fingers, tilting her chin upward until her tear-filled eyes meet mine in the dim light, ensuring she can both hear and see the raw sincerity in what I’m about to say.
“I would never look at you as a haunted past. When I think of those times, I see two kids trying to survive. I think of the smiles you gifted me, the laughter, the sassiness. You befriended me when very few did. I considered myself lucky to crush on a girl who slept in the same room as me. It was like winning the lottery at that age.” I smile.
“Those are the memories I live for because you filled the emptiness in my heart. You made me smile and look forward to each day. When the accident happened, you never came back. It’s like a piece of me died.
I spent years wondering what happened to you. I was sick with worry.”
I brush the fresh tears away.
“How unexpected it was to run into you in high school. I knew my time was limited, but when I left, I numbed the pain of losing you again. The only thing that kept me intact was knowing you were adopted into a safe home.”
She shakes her head in my hands. “That’s the thing. You didn’t get adopted. It wasn’t fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, tesoro, but I’m okay with how my life turned out.
I have you… You are a reminder of beautiful things in my life; you’ll never be someone I regret.
You’re someone I want to grow old with. The scars on me…
I don’t see them as something negative, but as a boy who had the courage to do the humane thing, to defend a girl, a girl I cared deeply for. I will wear those scars with pride.”
She looks at me for a long time. “See?” she finally says, her voice cracking, “you deserve so much better. You’re a good man.”
Kissing all over her face, I say, “You’re an unselfish person, you know that? You have been through a lot of shit, and here you are, telling me you don’t deserve my love. I think we both deserve happiness, don’t you?”
Sol wipes the tears with the back of her hand. “We do.” She sniffles. “When I saw you with Annette at the restaurant, I was so angry.”
“You proved that with my car.”
And I proved it by beating the professor.
She gives me a shy smile. “I didn’t want her to be my baby’s stepmother.”
I groan, shaking my head violently. “Never. No woman could take your place.” No woman will ever fill her spot in my heart.
The first time I had sex, I didn’t want to look at the woman’s face.
It wasn’t who I wanted. Although it was only a very few of them.
I would spin them around and screw them from behind and fantasize it was Sol.
I didn’t know what Sol looked like anymore at the time.
I only dreamed that one day I’d see her again.
“Tell me what you meant when you said I push you aside.”
She lets go of my hand and sits on the bed.
“You cut me short. When Carlos calls, it’s, ‘Oh, I have to go.’ Same when it’s your annoying manager and promoter.
How about when we ran into each other in the parking lot at my work?
I was about to ask you if we could talk, and you cut me off to answer and left.
This has happened a lot. Before I even left this house, you did the same.
It was in the morning, and I wanted to tell you what’s been going on in my head, what has been bothering me.
Your phone rang, and you had to answer it, then cut me off to leave.
That same night, you came home drunk out of your mind, Max.
You didn’t call me…your girlfriend; you had another woman drop you off, not just anyone, but one who’s clearly obsessed with you.
She took a photo as if you two were together.
” She looks away. “You weren’t acting like we were a team.
I started to feel like we were roommates. I had to beg you to fuck me.”
I run my fingers through my hair. Did I turn her away?
I think of all the times she’s mentioned.
I’m ashamed to say she’s right. I have put my phone calls and my boxing career before her.
I attended the ball when I could have asked her to join me.
I kneel on one knee close to the bed where she sits cross-legged.
“Perdón. It was never my intention to make you feel second. You’re right.
” I exhale. “I’m embarrassed to say I have left you when you needed me.
I’ve left you standing in parking lots.” I take her hand in mine, stroking the softness.
“I didn’t try to be intimate after your accident, and you know why. ”
“Oh, come on, Max. I know we had already talked about parts of it, but how about you showering in the other bathroom? I know that after we talked about it, things got better between us for a short time. Then you became distant—busy. It became easy to listen to the voices in my head.”
“I’m admitting to you that I see it now.
I thought I was giving you space, but I didn’t realize that I was the one pulling away.
In truth, I didn’t expect to be challenged this quickly.
Yes, there was talk, but it was sooner than expected and much bigger.
” She knows I’ve never been keen on fame and attention, and I know it comes with the job.
I tell her about all the interviews I’ve done.
And how they wanted me to attend the ball with Annette.
They went behind my back to make it seem we were a couple.
“It’s been really hard to balance life without you. ”
She shifts to the edge of the bed, her legs finding their place on either side of me. “We are here now. We’ll work through it.”
“We will.” My voice catches, and I press my forehead against hers, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo.
“Max.” Her hot breath sends sparks of heat to my dick. “Can you get the box from the closet? I put it in there. You know, the gift I dropped off that you avoided opening.”
I pull a face, standing to my feet. “I meant to open it at home.”
She pats the space next to her.
The tissue paper crinkles under my hands.
I pull back slowly. The first thing I see is white cotton.
Then the print. Daddy’s little helper. I set it on the bed beside me.
The second one. I’m going to be a dad. And then the ultrasound image.
Printed on fabric. A baby that exists inside her body, now here in my hands.
My heart hammers in my chest as I pull out the tiniest baby clothing.
I can see the hands. The feet, small and curled, mid-kick.
I’d had this box in my truck for two days.
Two days. Only proving how hard she’s tried to tell me.
Even in the middle of an argument, I failed to listen.
My eyes are glassy, and I can feel the moisture threatening to fall.
I can’t look away from the small feet kicking up.
Every heartbreak, every stretch of loneliness, homelessness, and being penniless — it all led me here, and it was so damn worth it.
I sit there with the onesie in my hands.
Every year I’d spent sleeping on floors.
Living in unloved homes, walking the street, scanning the crowd.
Searching for her. Fighting in the Underground to make ends meet and build a life.
It had all been leading here. To this room.
To her. To this. “I’m going to be a dad. ” I choke on the words.
I look up at her. She’s watching me with that particular expression—the one she’s had since we were children. The smile that lights up my heart. “You are, honey,” she says softly. “And I have no doubt in my heart that you’ll be a great one.”
I don’t trust my voice. I kiss her instead.
I cup her cheeks between my palms, her skin warm against my fingertips.
She exhales softly as I draw her closer, her breath mingling with mine for a suspended moment.
Her eyelids flutter closed, dark lashes brushing against her cheekbones, before our lips meet in a slanted kiss that sends electricity racing down my spine.
She tastes like home. Her tongue tangles with mine in a dance we’ve perfected through the years.
She pulls back, our lips grazing. I can feel her smiling against my mouth.
“I’ve missed you…this.” A pause. “You kiss the way you fight.” Her voice is raw and low.
“I missed you, too.” I slip off the bed and kneel on the floor, pulling off her socks, then her leggings. I bite down on the smirk threatening my face. “The way I fight? What’s that supposed to mean?”
She hums low in her throat. “Brutal, passionate.” A beat. “Lethal.”
“Sounds about right.” I run my fingers up her warm thigh. “Do we know what we are having?”
“No, not yet. I wanted to wait so we can see together.”
I’m relieved. I’ve already missed important moments of this pregnancy.
My thoughts take me back to the conversation we just had.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t get a hold of me.
” I trace my thumb over her tattoo. “Sorry for the whole Annette thing—the article, the social media, all of it. I let Bob and Henry hear about it.” I pause.
“And I’m so fucking sorry for saying I’d fuck Annette. ”
“I know.”
“I would never do that to you with anyone—”
“I know, Max.” She sighs. “I’m sorry too. It’s been a rough couple of months, hasn’t it?”
“It has. I think we work better together than apart. Don’t you think?”
“You’re right.”
“Now, let’s go shower. I intend to keep my promises tonight.” When I extend my hand, she takes it, following me as I lead her toward the bathroom door.