Indiscretion: Volume Four (17 page)

He closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, I saw tears there, ready to fall. “You shouldn’t be here. How did you find me?” Even his voice was weak, and I felt my heart breaking all over again. What had happened to him and how I had I not known?

“Paul told me to come.” My voice was shaky, close to tears as well. “He didn’t tell me why.”

“Bastard,” he muttered and tried to laugh, though I could tell by the cringe on his face that it pained him.

“Max, speak to me. What happened to you?” I was desperate. I wanted to touch him in some way, to have that physical contact with him, but I was scared.

“I did everything I could so you wouldn’t have to see this.” His eyes were hard, his jaw set.

“What’re you talking about?” I shook my head, near frantic now.

“I suppose it makes no difference now, since you’re here,” he muttered. “The day I left Bar Harbor,” he started, needing to clear his throat. “I was diagnosed with acute leukemia. The doctor at the hospital told me it had come up in my blood work.”

I was stunned. Frozen. I couldn’t speak for a minute as I ran it all through my head. How different he’d been with me that day. How he’d worked so hard at pushing me away. His cruelty. “You never told me. Why?”

He squeezed his eyes tight, and then looked into my own and I saw that it wasn’t only my heart breaking. “I couldn’t tell you. I wasn’t willing to have you watch me become this…” He motioned to his body, adding with certainty, “And you would have. Because you’re that kind of person. You’d already suffered the loss of your mother and, in a different way, your sister. I wasn’t willing to do that to you. I cared too much about you.”

A tear ran down my face. Followed by another, and another. It was one of the most selfless, thoughtful things I’d ever heard, but at the same time it made me mad. Mad as hell. “You had no right to decide that for me. That should’ve been my decision to make.” I couldn’t help but let my hurt and anger come through, but the guilt I felt at expressing it to a man in Max’s condition was immediate.

Despite how weak he looked, his jaw was set, teeth clenched. “I know what decision you would’ve made. That’s why I did it. I wanted you to get on with your life. Find someone else to love.”

“I loved you, you bastard!” I cried. “I loved you. And you were so cruel when you pushed me away.” It probably wasn’t a good idea to scream at someone in his condition, but I was past being able to control my emotions.

“I know and I’m sorry for that.” There was true remorse in his eyes. “I truly am, but if I didn’t make you hate me, you never would’ve let me go.”

“I don’t hate you, Max. I never could. I still love you,” I proclaimed, choking back a sob.

A pained expression flashed across his face. “Don’t do this.”

I ignored it. “How is your health now?” I was afraid to ask the question based on the picture in front of me, but I had to know. I braced myself for his answer.

“Oh, Chlo…” He trailed off and a single tear fell down his cheek. He didn’t make any move to wipe it away. “My chemo treatments went well. My counts were great, and I was days away from being declared in remission, when I developed an infection in my pancreas. The doctors are trying their best to get it under control, but it’s difficult when my immune system is already so suppressed due to the chemo.”

I nodded, taking it all in, my eyes glazing over again. I was trying to keep my emotions under control, but the helplessness and sorrow that invaded my body were overwhelming. Seeing Max so weak, watching him struggle to carry on a conversation…it felt like someone had carved open my chest cavity and ripped out my beating heart. The lump in my throat was a painful mass now, though I managed to get a few words out.

“When will you know if they can help you?” It was a whisper, barely audible.

“There’s no timeline on these things,” he said softly. “I’ve been on a bunch of different intravenous drugs for a couple of days. It’s too soon to tell.”

“I’m so angry at you for pushing me away.” I bit the inside of my cheek, working to grab hold of my anger. “I could’ve been here this whole time,” I said with a softer tone.

He took an unsteady breath and let it out, a few more tears slipping down his face. “I always planned to come back for you if I made it out of this alive—you should know that.” He gave me a small smile. “When you told me you loved me and how you’d finally done something for yourself, all I could think about was the life you’d have if you stayed there. I didn’t want you to see me like this and spend your days sitting beside a hospital bed. It was the most painful decision I ever made. Don’t think it came easy.”

I took some measure of comfort in the fact that he’d planned to return. “Well, don’t think you’re getting rid of me now that I know what’s going on.” I raised my chin and crossed my arms over my chest, daring him to fight me on this.

“I don’t want you to stay.” His voice was flat.

My breath hitched. “But I already know…”

“I can’t take the way you’re looking at me right now.” His voice was so full of desperation that had I been standing, my knees would’ve buckled. “I can’t handle seeing you so full of sadness.”

He couldn’t handle it? How the hell did he think I felt? “I’m going to feel this way whether I’m with you here in New York, or back in Bar Harbor.”

He was silent for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “Chloe, if this doesn’t turn out well, I’m
not
letting you watch me waste away over weeks or months. No. I won’t do that to you.”

“I want to be here. Please don’t push me away again,” I pleaded, my stubbornness giving way to desperation.

He shook his head, his voice becoming an emotional whisper. “I watched the life drain out of my brother. It was quick and that was painful enough. I won’t inflict that type of slow torture on you.”

“Max, please—”

“You need to leave,” he said harshly, cringing afterward in pain.

“Don’t do this.” I shook my head vehemently, desperate for him to reconsider.

“Chloe, don’t make me call security on you…please,” he said, voice cracking at the end.

“Max, please—” I begged again.

“Just go,” he growled. His voice was more stern than it had been, but still only a shadow of the commanding voice I remembered. It was obvious this conversation was exhausting him, and he needed his strength. Which was the only reason I agreed to his stupid request. I wanted more than anything to be by his side, but my presence was stealing the very strength he needed to fight.

“Fine,” I conceded, my throat still thick. “But you listen to me. I love you. More than anything—that hasn’t changed. You fight, damn it,” I said with conviction. “You fight like hell, Max, and when you’re done fighting and healthy again, you come find me, understand?”

He nodded as more tears silently slid down his face. I wanted to wrap myself around him, hold him and tell him it was all going to be okay, but I didn’t say another word. I rose from the chair and walked to the door, turning to take one last glance at the man who’d taught me how to live—and who now could very well be dying himself. I left the room and I raced out of the apartment, not caring that I still had on the hospital gear, or that I didn’t stop to say a word to his mother.

I punched the button to the elevator, willing it to come quickly so I could get out of here and fall apart. As soon as the doors opened in front of me, I rushed in and hit the lobby button. When the doors closed, I slid to the floor, hands wrapped around me as sobs wracked my body.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I’d arrived, but I’d been unprepared to see Max as a mere shadow of his former self. He’d looked so vulnerable—I couldn’t jar the image from my mind. And there was nothing I could do to help him—nothing! I didn’t hold the power to heal him, no one did. The trajectory of the rest of my life was being left up to fate—and I already knew what a fickle bitch she could be.

I screamed and cried, on the floor of that elevator, for everything I’d ever had that the universe had decided to rip from my hands, praying with everything in me that Max wouldn’t end up being one of them.

Chloe

Months dragged on with no word from Max. I couldn’t bear to look up the obituaries, but Jackie had volunteered for the job. She checked every morning and called me with the news. So far there was none, and for that I was grateful. I both dreaded and looked forward to my phone lighting up with Jackie’s name every morning.

I’d go to see Paul at the job site every week—forcing him to feed me information on how Max was doing. At first, he wouldn’t tell me anything, claiming that Max had been furious after he’d told me to head there the first time. I think, when he realized I wasn’t going anywhere, he saw that holding out on me was in vain.

I didn’t get details, but generalities. Last I’d heard, Max was ‘doing much better’, which set my mind somewhat at ease. But as more time went by, I couldn’t help but think that Max must’ve changed his mind about me. Or was he still fighting for his life all these months later, and Paul was telling me what he thought I wanted to hear?

After I’d had time to process everything from that dreadful day in New York, I realized with an extreme amount of guilt that a small part of me was happy that Max hadn’t let me stay. Seeing the man I love in that amount of pain day after day would’ve been crippling. As it was, the image of him in that bed still haunted me. It was so ingrained in me that I had trouble even remembering what he’d looked like before.

That said, I would’ve been there in a heartbeat if I’d been wanted. It was apparent I wasn’t though, and since my presence had agitated him and robbed Max of his strength, I stayed away.

After a couple of months, I’d done my best to get on with my life, as Max had wanted me to do, but it was a useless endeavor. He was all I could think about. I realized that I was waiting for him. Every time I pulled up my driveway, I wondered if I’d see him waiting on my front porch. When I sang at Geddy’s on Friday nights, I wondered if I’d look out and see him in the crowd. Would he be on the jogging path when I ran past The Harborside?

But it never happened—I never saw him.

I took some comfort knowing that he was out there, still alive, and healthy, I hoped. As far as he and I were concerned, though, I had stopped waiting a few weeks ago. It seemed a useless endeavor—he wasn’t coming.

Max

I pulled into Chloe’s driveway, anticipation humming through my veins. I’d waited a long time for this—almost a year to be exact. I was ready and now that this moment had come, I couldn’t wait a millisecond longer to see her and tell her how I felt. It didn’t matter to me if she was still pissed at me for pushing her away, if she had started to see someone else—none of it mattered. I would eliminate any and all obstacles. I’d be relentless in my pursuit, because I knew what we had was a once in a lifetime thing.

I made my way up to the front porch and knocked on the door. After a few seconds, it swung open and a tall guy stood there with a paint brush in his hand, paint speckled down the front of his clothes. I instantly tensed, my argument that nothing mattered draining right out of me as I felt a burst of pure jealousy explode inside of me.

Who the fuck was this guy?

“Is Chloe around?” I asked, my voice gruff.

“Nah, sorry man. She left about an hour ago.” He squinted for a minute and looked me up and down. “You Max?”

I took it as a good sign that he knew my name—it meant Chloe had mentioned me.