Until the Last Breath - Page 81

“Max,” I plead. “We cannot do this.”

“I know.” He closes his eyes. “Fuck, I know. I’m sorry. I knew this would be a bad idea.”

“No—listen.” I grab his hand and squeeze it. “Don’t blame yourself, okay? This is—this is my fault. When I decided to come to Paris with you, I was being completely selfish. I didn’t think about how it would make you feel, I just thought about myself.” I try blinking my tears away but it’s so hard. “I didn’t think about John.” Max’s gaze darts away, going any direction other than mine and I hate that I have to tell him this out loud but, deep down, I know he already knows this. “Trust me, I have had so much fun here with you. You’ve done for me something that not many would do. You took a risk with me, and I will never forget that. You are a great person and I of all people know that, but when it comes to this”—I point back and forth between us— “well, we just have to face it, Max. No matter how hard you try, or how much I may think about you or miss you, even, we’re just not meant to be together.”

“Oh, wow.” It takes no time for the tears to pool in his eyes again. “Fuck.” He blinks and his tears fall. They hurt my heart to see.

“I love you to death, Maximilian Grant, I do. But I found happiness and peace and security with John. John picked me up and pieced me back together again. He made me accept my childhood and the darker parts of me. He made me realize that life can be beautiful if you make it beautiful, and those are only some of the reasons I fell so hard for him. I love you so much, but I love my husband more, okay? And I’m sorry it’s this way, but it’s the truth and I refuse to lie to you about that.”

“Yeah. I understand,” he murmurs. His throat bobs as he swallows. I release his hand, taking a look around. The other couple is leaving now. There’s a man standing at the bar, sipping wine.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, pleading. I really don’t want him to hate me for speaking the truth.

“Don’t be sorry. I understand where you’re coming from, Shakes. Trust me, I know it. I get it.” He shrugs. “So maybe you’re not meant to be mine, but I know one thing. My love for you will never change.”

All I can do is nod at that statement.

He smiles, then flicks his wrist to check the time. “It’s almost ten,” he says with a sigh. “We should probably go before they kick us out.”

“Right.”

We walk back to the table and Max picks up his beer, finishing it off. He then calls for the waiter and asks for the bill and as he waits for the waiter to return, our eyes connect.

He smiles. I smile.

This is okay. He’s okay…I think.

Once he has paid, we’re out of the Eiffel Tower. The night is cooler, and it envelops us as we step outside. When we’re far enough away from the tower, I turn and look up at it again. It twinkles with bright gold lights, a smattering of stars behind it.

I whip out my cellphone, turning my back to the tower, snapping a selfie, and then sending it to Tessa. She replies with Lucky bitch!

I grin and turn around, but someone bumps right into my shoulder, knocking me down on the ground. My phone falls and I feel something crack behind me.

“WATCH IT!” the man shouts.

“You…you fucking watch it,” I wheeze. I turn on my side, reaching for my phone. I want to curse him the hell out, but I can’t seem to find the breath to do so. I’m winded now, and it takes me several seconds to gain some sort of composure and realize what the hell is happening.

It was my jetpack. It did crack. There must be a hole. I’m losing oxygen.

“No, motherfucker! You watch it!” Max barks. I look up and he’s rushing up to the man, gripping him by the collar of his shirt and squeezing tight.

I scramble for my cellphone that slid on the ground. The screen is now cracked.

“No, Max.” I breathe harder, clutching my phone in hand and pushing off the ground. “It’s fine. It’s whatever. Let’s just…let’s just go.”

“No, it’s not fucking fine.” Max’s voice is full of anger. “You aren’t walking away until you fucking apologize to her. You just knocked her on the ground, man! What the hell is wrong with you?”

I slide my phone into my backpack and then turn to where Max is having a showdown with the burly man. The man is nearly bald with a large beer belly and greasy skin. He’s drunk. That much is clear.

Tags: Shanora Williams Romance
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