Until the Last Breath - Page 80

“Damn. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” The classical music fills the silence that drops between us. “Can I ask you a question?” I sit up straight, putting on a smile.

“Oh, boy,” Max groans, sitting up as well. “By that smile I can tell I’m not going to enjoy answering whatever question you have.”

I smile. “Why didn’t you ever try and find someone else after me? Why remain stuck on being with me, even when you knew I’d moved on with John?”

He thinks on that a moment, and then sighs. “I guess I wanted to win you back. And I guess I also thought that you loved me so much that you wouldn’t choose him over me.”

I nod and he taps the edge of his beer bottle with his fingers. “You seemed happy,” he says in a quieter voice. “Seeing the engagement pictures of you and him on Facebook and Instagram made it clear to me. I’d never seen so much light in your eyes. Even when you talk about him now, I see it.”

I look him over before looking away, unsure of what to say to that.

“The one thing I have always wanted,” Max says, finding my eyes again, “was for you to find happiness again. Even if it wasn’t with me. And you did. And you deserve that. I’ll admit, I know how I am, and no matter how hard I try, I don’t think I can make you as happy as he does.”

I can’t even see him clearly because he’s a blur behind my tears. I wipe the tears away and bob my head, smiling like an idiot.

“You’re such a great human, Shannon.”

“And you’re an amazing soul, Max.”

He picks up his beer and takes a swig of it. I pick my water up and sip it. Moments later and our meals arrive.

I devour my pan-fried fish and asparagus, downing the croissants that come along with it. Max finishes his filet mignon and orders another beer to wash it all down. By the end of dinner, he’s full of nothing but laughter and I love seeing this look on him—the happiness and the joy in his eyes.

“I think you may have drank just a little too much beer,” I say, fighting a smile as he plays with his fork.

“Yeah right. I’m good. I feel good. Wish you could drink though.”

“Ehh.” I shrug. “I’m alright. To be honest, I don’t really miss drinking.”

“You were pretty fun when you were drunk—not that you’re no fun now.”

“Yeah, yeah. You only liked me when I was drunk because I always said yes to everything.”

“Bingo!” he chimes.

I laugh, picking up my water and taking a small sip with a playful roll of my eyes. As I set my glass down, a new song plays and Max’s eyes broaden, as if he has some magical idea.

He slides out of his chair and stands, walking to my side and holding out a hand.

I frown, looking up at him. “What are you doing?”

“I want you to dance with me.” His eyes are gentle. “I promise I won’t ask you to do a jig for me this time.”

I drop my head and laugh. “Okay. Sure.” I grab the hand he offers, picking up my jet-pack with the other hand and tossing it on my shoulder.

He helps me put it on all the way then one of his hands goes to my waist, the other holding my left hand. I sling my arm over his shoulder, tilting my head as he waltzes to the middle of the floor and begins a slow dance.

Most of the guests have left. Other than two couples eating, we’re practically alone and I’m curious to know how long we’ve been here now.

Max’s eyes leave mine. He holds me close, breathing softly. I ignore the way my heart races at our proximity, the way I feel in this moment. I can’t deny that I feel alive. While we slow dance, I feel like a healthy, normal girl. I’m a girl dancing inside the Eiffel Tower. What a dream.

“I don’t ever want you to forget this night,” Max whispers in my ear.

He brings his head back enough so he can press his forehead on mine. My breath catches. Max’s eyes drop to my mouth and I can tell he wants to kiss me. He even begins to lower his mouth, bringing it closer to mine, but I back away.

“Max,” I whisper. I pull away, removing my arms from his shoulders.

“Shannon,” he pleads, and regret instantly pools in his eyes. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

I look at my surroundings. The view of the city. The lavender sky. The candle lights and the kissing couples. What is all of this?

What the hell was I thinking?

I shake my head swiftly. “I’m sorry—we can’t do this.”

His hands drop to his sides, face going blank. I walk closer to him, looking up and into his eyes.

Tags: Shanora Williams Romance
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