Part 22 (1/2)

”No, you can't leave!” he howls. ”You can't leave me, Ava.”

”What's wrong with you? Why are you treating me like this?” I turn around and push him away.

His eyes bug out and his mouth falls open. ”Because I f.u.c.king love you, and I can't lose you. It makes me crazy, knowing someone like Nick is after you.”

He looms over me, and the heat from his fury sears my skin. His eyes are narrow slits, and he's clenching his teeth as his chest heaves. ”I lost you once; I can't go through it again.”

He's freaking me out, but I'm determined to stay strong. I look up into his eyes with a hard gaze. ”I have no interest in Nick, nor he in me. This is ridiculous. If this is what our relations.h.i.+p is going to be like, Max, I'm going to have to leave. I mean it.”

”No!” he yells, and the desperate look in his eyes haunts me.

”Yes.”

I gasp as he leans in, grabs my shoulders and presses his forehead against mine.

”f.u.c.k no, Ava.”

”d.a.m.n you, Max.” I push him away again. ”I'm furious...Are you trying to make me hate you?”

”Go ahead and hate me...as long as you don't leave me, Ava. d.a.m.n it all. I f.u.c.king need you.”

Some of the black charcoal has rubbed off on my skin and the marks shock me. ”This is so screwed up...” The anger has intensified every nerve ending in my body until I'm humming like a loose wire about to crackle and pop.

I push past him and step back into the room. Taking several deep breaths to calm my racing mind, I finally find my voice again.

”I need some time alone to think this out, Max. So either I leave or you leave. Which is it going to be?”

He stares at me, gasping with a ragged breath, and I make the mistake of looking into his eyes. They are the most brilliant steel gray, full of desperation, furor, and longing.

”Ava,” he begs as he reaches for me.

I know he can't stand the idea of me leaving, but I can't think with him falling apart around me.

”You or me?” I demand.

He looks between the door and me. With a look of defeat, he storms outside.

I watch him stride away until the door swings shut. The click of the automatic lock rips through me like a shot, and I stumble into the bedroom as my eyes fill with tears. I grab the box of tissue before falling onto the bed. I can't even fathom how quickly things crumbled between us, and I feel hopeless. How could we be on top of the world this morning and sink so low a few hours later? It's more than I can comprehend.

I cling to a pillow, crying until I'm hollow inside. Drained, I lie in a daze for what feels like hours, when in reality, it's just over an hour later when I hear Max let himself back in the room. He sets his things down on the living room table and washes his hands in the bathroom. A minute later, the edge of the bed sinks down. I can smell his fear in the air. There's a long silence before he speaks.

”I'm sorry, Ava...I'm sorry.”

I can't bear the anguish in his voice, and I find new tears to cry. We've broken each other so quickly.

”You know I can't do this,” I say with a shaky breath.

”I know,” he admits with an anguished tone.

”I'm still furious, Max. I love you, but if you can't trust me, we can't be together.”

He hesitates and sighs. ”This is how dark I get, and I hate it. When I saw you with him, I came completely unglued. Logic went right out the window.”

”You scared me. We can't be like this.”

”I know,” he whispers.

He's much calmer and appears rational, and when he asks me if he can lie down next to me, I agree.

He gets on the bed and lies still for several minutes, the room silent other than my crying and his measured breathing. Waves of hopelessness, tempered by an instinct to stay and work on things, run through me, and I finally accept that what we have together is more than I can walk away from.

I clear my throat. ”What are we going to do?”

His voice is quiet but sure. ”I have to fix this. It's killing me that I hurt you and your faith in us.”

He gently lays his hand on my shoulder. ”I want to be better for you. When I got back from the restaurant, I tried to call my therapist, but her service said she couldn't call me back until three. I finally talked to her after you made me leave.”

I have a flicker of hope that comes from him asking for help without my prompting. He knew he was in serious trouble.

”I'm relieved you called her. You know I can't be the one to help you with this stuff. Some of it is over my head, and when it affects me-much like what happened today-I get too upset to think straight.”

”I know.” He sounds desperately unhappy.

I pull the pillow against me and turn to face him. He's unsuccessfully fighting back a tear of what I a.s.sume to be frustration from how tightly his fists are clenched. I stroke his cheek, capturing his tear on my fingertips.

”I'm not Chloe, Max. I've lived enough life to know our relations.h.i.+p means everything to me. And when I told you I loved you, it means that I'll always be honest about our relations.h.i.+p, because it's the only way it'll work.”

He closes his eyes tightly, as if he's in pain, and I stroke his other cheek.

”Nothing about us is like what Chloe and I had. You're so much more. That's why I'm terrified to lose you.”

Part of me is heartbroken. I know he wants to be good for me, but he'll have to fight his natural instincts. He wants to control and possess me, but I'll never allow that.

We're still figuring out how to be together. Between his past scars and my abandonment issues, we both have a lot to work out to be the type of couple I hope we can be. I place my hand on his chest over his heart.

”Help me want to stay, Max. Give me my s.p.a.ce and your trust. I need your respect, but most of all, treat me with love...always.”

”Oh, Ava.” He pulls me into his arms.

Even though we're frightened and raw, this time when I rest my head on his shoulder, I feel hope that we can unfold our hearts so that they can lay open to each other once again.

Chapter Sixteen / The Enchanted Land.

The main thing is to be moved, to love, to hope, to tremble, to live.

~Auguste Rodin We're in each other's arms, and I try to imagine a time when we can be a regular couple, making plans and sharing stories about each other's days, instead of all pa.s.sion and emotion.