The Boyfriend Sessions (23 page)

He ran a hand through his dark hair, his arm muscles clenching tightly as he opened and closed his palm in a show of frustration. “She didn’t want to come. I knew that. But she wouldn’t say it. She wouldn’t damn well say it. She just kept avoiding it, kept avoiding me.”

I swallowed at the pain in his voice. She wasn’t fair to him, that much was clear. I had the impression that Max would have done anything for this woman, but even after accepting his proposal, she still found it difficult to be open with him.

Max groaned and rested his head in his hands. “If only that was the half of it,” he muttered.

“She was hiding something from you?” I asked quietly, although that much was obvious.

He turned and I was shocked to see tears pooling in his eyes. “I need a moment,” he managed, before pushing himself roughly from the car and slamming the door shut behind him. I watched as he stalked off in the direction of a children’s playground.

He paced for a while and I stayed in the passenger seat of his car, wary of approaching him too soon. For the first time I wondered if maybe I was wrong to push him on this. Maybe he wasn’t ready and maybe it was none of my business.

Eventually he stopped pacing and sat at a table, resting his feet on one of the benches.

I opened the door of the car quietly and shut it with a soft click. I studied his back for a long moment, his broad shoulders tense and his breathing heavy, even from a distance.

I made myself a promise then. I would walk away before I would hurt him. If I couldn’t give him what he wanted or be open the way he needed, then I would put a stop to it. I wouldn’t fumble along as I’d done in the past, oblivious to the consequences, I would take responsibility.

Even if it meant ending it.

My mind too readily recalled the touch of his hands on my body and his soft breath in my ear. The thought of it, even now, had my blood pumping. But I couldn’t be responsible for the pain I’d seen flare in his eyes. He deserved better and if I couldn’t give him that, I’d walk away.

Right now at least, I walked slowly toward him, the crunch of the gravel beneath my feet warning him of my approach.

I climbed up to sit on the table beside Max and studied his face. His tears were gone and he didn’t look at me, he just continued staring out into the darkness.

“One night it all came to a head.” His voice was softer than usual and even in the silence I had to strain to hear him properly.

I wondered how many people he’d shared this with. Maddy probably, but I doubted too many others.

“We had it out about my transfer to Sydney. It elevated into a shouting match.” He winced. “I was incredibly under-qualified to survive a battle of words with Sarah. She made it perfectly clear she didn’t want to leave London. Her career was too important and she’d just received a promotion.

“At that point we were both nearing thirty-five and I threw into the argument something about starting a family. I reminded her we didn’t have forever. And then her whole demeanor changed.”

He stopped and looked at me, his eyes laced with pain. “She shut me down. Wouldn’t talk to me anymore. I was seriously confused because Sarah never backed away from a fight. Ever. So what did I do?

“I pushed harder. Yelled at her to talk to me until finally she shouted back that I should just go to Australia without her, that it would be better that way.” He shook his head. “I didn’t understand what she was saying. Was she ending it?”

He returned his gaze to the river and focused on a boat that looked to be half stuck in the low tide.

And then he wasn’t there anymore. I could see he was in the memory of that night, experiencing the pain all over again.

When he spoke, he wasn’t telling me the story, he was reliving it.

“You want to call off our engagement?” I asked.

She didn’t look at me, just stared out the window. It was January and we’d had some snow, which was melting and forming dirty puddles in the street.

Finally she answered. “Yes.”

I think I opened my mouth to ask her again, but then I shut it when I saw the look on her face. Determined. Cold. I think her expression hurt more than her answer.

The fight went out of me. You have to understand that by this point, she’d been distant for a long time. It was only on that night I’d truly understood she’d been pulling away from me gradually but deliberately. I’d lost the battle and hadn’t even been given a chance to fight.

So I said nothing and went to get a few of my belongings. We were living together, but I couldn’t bear the thought of being in the same house with her now the decision was made. My company was talking about flying me to Australia in less than four weeks and I had some friends I could stay with until then.

I think I muttered as much to her and then told her I’d come back to pack the rest of my things another time.

She stood watching me silently from the hallway as I packed my bag. It was only when I opened the front door that she spoke again.

“Max.”

I turned, still not saying anything. Her face was flat and unreadable.

“I was pregnant.”

They were the last words I expected. For a brief instant I was elated until my brain caught up. ‘Was pregnant’, not ‘I’m pregnant’. It was like a kick to the stomach. Before I could speak, and I was having a hard time saying anything at that point, she cut in on me.

“I chose not to proceed with it.”

Like it was that simple. Like it was none of my business and she was just passing on some information she thought I should know.

“What?” I think I managed.

“It wasn’t the right time.” She spoke so briskly, so matter of fact. “And it made me realize that maybe I’d never be ready.”

I closed my eyes and my chest felt painfully tight. I could understand not wanting to have children, we’d discussed that a few times due to the trauma of her upbringing, but we’d always left the door open. Or maybe I just thought we’d left the door open and she’d already made her mind up?

“Was it mine?” I asked roughly. I wanted to hurt her then and I think some part of me genuinely hoped it wasn’t mine, because maybe that would make it easier somehow.

Her head snapped up and she looked me acidly. “Of course it was yours.”

“So I never had any say?”

She inhaled a sharp breath. “And this is why I chose not to tell you.”

Even though I was the one about to leave, she turned to grab her handbag from the hall table.

The simple act of it, the fact that she felt the discussion was over, I think made me snap.

I reached over, more roughly than I intended, and turned her to me.

I remember the sharp slap of her hand on my arm ringing out loudly in the darkened hallway. “Don’t you touch me!”

It was enough to make me step back and I raised my hands in the air. “Why would you do this?”

She advanced on me. “Because I knew this was how you’d react,” she hissed. Her face twisted coldly. “You’d try and talk me out of it and then I’d have to live with something I’d regret forever.”

That she could talk about a child this way, our child, killed me.

“Go,” I managed, “just fucking go. After six years, you couldn’t even give me the decency of discussing something as major as this with me?”

“It’s my body, it’s my life.” She stood glaring at me, her green eyes cold and hard, and her arms folded tightly as if protecting herself.

“I know that, Sarah,” I whispered. “For you to think I’d force you to do something you didn’t want to do, shows how little you know me. I just can’t bear—don’t understand—how you wouldn’t share this with me. It must have been difficult for you—”

“Don’t you dare tell me how difficult it must have been. You can’t even begin to understand!”

“You never gave me a chance to understand.” My voice sounded bitter, but I was dangerously close to tears.

Then she delivered the final blow.

“I shouldn’t have told you.”

Max turned to me, back in the here and now again, his face twisted in pain. “They were the words that did it for me.” He laughed bitterly. “Not ‘I had an abortion’, although they were pretty difficult. But for her to say she shouldn’t have told me, that was when I knew. It was never going to work. Six years together and she couldn’t share something as major as that with me, had actively kept it from me. It was a rough way to find out we had no future.”

I couldn’t help myself. I reached out and grabbed his hand and squeezed tightly. With my other hand, I quickly wiped away the tears that trailed down my own cheeks and sniffed softly.

“Thank you for telling me,” I whispered.

Gently, he let go of my fingers and rested his head in his hands. “Sometimes it all just seems like a bad dream. Like I imagined it.”

I closed my eyes. I wished he had. I couldn’t begin to imagine what he was going through. He’d lost his relationship, but he’d lost a child, too. And I knew Max well enough to know he would never have forced Sarah to do anything she didn’t want to do. He would have respected her decision.

But it was his child too. To his fiancée, for God’s sake. I didn’t know this woman, but she must have had some pretty serious issues for her to choose not to share this with him. Issues stemming back to the painful childhood Max had mentioned.

“Some days I’m glad she didn’t go through with it,” Max said quietly. “It would have tied us together forever. Knowing what I know now, I don’t think that would have been a good thing. Six months on, I can’t even imagine being married to her, let alone having a child with her.”

I rested a hand on his jeans. “I think that’s entirely understandable.”

“And other days, if I see a child or a baby, I find myself wondering, you know? Just wondering?”

“That sounds normal too.”

He looked at me again, his dark eyes piercing me with their intensity. “Most of the time though, I’m actually glad, Christa. I’m glad. I feel like I escaped and that I still have a chance to get it right with someone else. I can start with a clean slate. That never would have happened if our child had been born.” He swallowed painfully. “Do you know how guilty that makes me feel?”

“You’re a good man, Max.” And life just wasn’t fair. I reached over and gently touched his cheek. At the contact he released a deep breath and pressed his hand to mine.

“Not always. I’m so sorry about before. About your dad.”

I squeezed his hand firmly. “I’m sorry too.” I inhaled a shaky breath. “There was some truth to it.”

“It still wasn’t fair of me.”

“Maybe not. Nor was lying to everyone about our relationship,” I admitted.

He closed his eyes for a long moment and when he opened them again, they appeared calmer. “I’m glad you broke your man drought for me, Christa. You remind me how to laugh,” he whispered.

I couldn’t help myself. “What? A whole four weeks? I’m happy to be a source of amusement though.” I knew it wasn’t what he’d meant, but his words struck a chord with me. I loved seeing him laugh. And if he occasionally laughed at my expense, then fine by me.

He rested his forehead on mine. “You’re very amusing.”

I grinned at his innuendo, glad he could make light of the situation.

Gently, he eased back then brushed his lips to mine, the kiss barely touching. Even so, my lips burned from the contact and I found myself leaning in for more.

Max responded with another soft kiss and whispered, “What is this, Christa?”

I stiffened. I hadn’t meant to.

Max leaned back and studied me curiously. “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage.”

A choked laugh escaped my throat. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I blurted out and the way his face softened made my heart melt.

“You’re not hurting me. Far from it. But when I tell you I need you to be honest, do you understand why now?”

I nodded. “You deserve to be loved, Max. You deserve everything—marriage, kids, the whole package if that’s what you want. I don’t want to hold you back from that.”

“What are you saying?” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Don’t you want all of that?”

I leaned back a bit, surprised by his direct question. “Yes, I do. I mean I think so. I guess it just seems like something far off in the future for me, that’s all.”

“God, can you imagine?” Max said, almost to himself. “Little Bubbleses running around everywhere?”

I gave him a withering stare. “I should imagine they’d be quite cute, actually.”

“I don’t think the world is prepared for that level of cuteness.”

I punched him in the arm. “And I’m not sure the world is ready for mini Mighty Maxes either.” Then I clamped my hand over my mouth when I realized what I’d just said. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think—”

“Relax.” Max reached over and gently pried my hand from my mouth. “I can take a joke. And I wouldn’t expect otherwise from you.”

“What? Poorly thought out jokes? Or continually putting my foot in my mouth?”

“All of the above.”

He leaned in again, this time delivering a deeper kiss that left my toes tingling and head spinning.

“Max,” I began, when we eventually came up for air. “I meant what I said about you deserving better, you know.”

He nuzzled the sensitive bit just under my ear. “I know.”

Damn him. I was trying so hard to concentrate. “But I don’t know what I want,” I protested, “and I’m worried that you deserve better—”

Than me
, I was about to say, but he placed a finger on my lips.

“Shh. I’m not asking you to know what you want right now. We both need to take things slow.”

I snorted and he pulled back and looked me in the eye seriously.

“Emotionally,” he clarified, then gave me a crooked grin. “The sex is just fine as it is.”

“Mmhmm.” I wasn’t going to argue with that.

He kissed me again and I melted into him, needier than I’d intended. Absolutely no self-control.

“What I’m hoping you’ll finally realize,” Max murmured, as he ducked down to lay a trail of kisses along my neck, “is that you deserve better, too.”