by V. Kelly
“Like forty-thousand. That’s how much I have saved up. That’s if you want to be a fifty-fifty partner. The bank approved a loan big enough to buy that big warehouse over on Sunset and equipment to fill it up. I’m thinking about building an indoor track as well, and pool.”
“Wow, that sounds amazing. Do you really want me to be your partner?”
“Max, besides me, you’re the best trainer in Miami. I’m not saying that to get you to agree. I’m saying it because it’s the truth. Think about it; that’s all I’m asking.”
“Okay, I will.” Forty thousand is about half of what I’ve saved over the years. I started saving money when I was sixteen. Slowly it’s built into an eighty-thousand dollar slush fund. My parents don’t even know about the money I’ve saved up over the years. No one has—not even Breezy. I kept that little bit of information a secret. If my mom knew I could afford an apartment right now, she’d kick me out. The truth is, I’m so miserable about living without Breezy that I kinda want my mommy. I need companionship; living alone would only depress me further.
Dashawn takes over Maggie’s workout, and I start to head to the office. I need to be by myself where nothing can remind me about Breezy. As I am turning the corner, I smack into someone.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say before seeing who it is.
“Max!”
Holy shit, it’s Travis. What the fuck is he doing here?
“What do you want?” He’s the last person, besides Breezy, that I want to see.
“It’s Breezy. . .” Travis says sadly.
All of the sudden, my stomach plummets. The way he’s frowning, the look in his eyes, the way his voice sounds—something is wrong. Something is wrong with Breezy.
“What’s wrong?” There’s a break in my voice. If something horrible has happened to Breezy, I will never forgive myself.
“I don’t know. She’s like catatonic.”
“What do you mean?” I run my hand over my hair, and it takes everything I have not to run and find Breezy.
“She hasn’t eaten in six days, she hasn’t taken a shower, and she barely moves. She’s curled up on the floor of your old room and just cries. All day long she’s crying. I don’t know what to do. I’ve tried to make her feel better. I’ve tried to get her to move. I want to make her smile, but I don’t know how. She’s completely broken, and I have no idea how to put her back together.”
Holy fuck! I did this to her. My departure has made her revert back into that state she was in when her parents died. This isn’t what I wanted to happen. I wanted her to be happy. Leaving was supposed to make her and Travis stronger. It wasn’t supposed to break her.
“Why are you telling me this? I don’t talk to her anymore.”
“What? Why?” He asks confused.
“Because you were right . . . I’m in love with her. I can’t sit by watching her be in love with someone else, so I stepped back so you two could be together.”
Travis looks shocked and a little angry, but I don’t care. He needs to know why she’s spiraling.
“She’s not my responsibility anymore, Travis. You’re going to have to figure out how to make her happy on your own.” I begin to walk away when I feel his hand on my shoulder.
“I know you care about her. You know how to fix this. Please, Max, all I want is for her to be happy. Tell me what I need to do to fix her.”
Ugh, why do I have to be such a nice guy? He’s right, I do care about Breezy. I know if I don’t tell him how to fix her, she would let herself wither away. Breezy hasn’t fully recovered from the loss of her parents. The only reason she pulled out of it was me.
“Please, Max, help me.”
He looks distraught. I can see the sadness and worry in his eyes. As much as I hate him, I hate knowing Breezy is hurting more.
“Fine, you want to bring her out of this funk, then this is how you do it . . .” I let my voice trail off and take a long deep breath. “You have to go to the store. First you need popcorn and six bags of plain M &M’s. You’re going to mix the two together in a large bowl.”
“That sounds disgusting,” he grimaces.
“It’s actually quite tasty. Then you’re going to buy two pints of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. Make sure you get two because Breezy won’t share.”
“A pint? Seriously?”
“Two pints,” I tell him. I’m starting to get annoyed. Does he want my help or not? “You need to rent or buy a chick flick or romantic comedy and have it playing before she gets out of the room. She’s seen almost all of them, but that new Sandra Bullock one she hasn’t.”
His face contorts in an awkward way. “Okay, a chick flick. What if I get an action comedy instead?”
“It has to be a chick flick. Breezy doesn’t like blood and gore or lots of action like that.”
He groans, “I hate chick flicks.”
“Dude, sometimes you have to sacrifice your man card for the greater good. Females will love you for it, especially Breezy.”
“Fine, I’ll rent a chick flick. Anything else?”
“The most important thing—you’re going to have to sing and dance.”
“What? Hell no.”
“Do you want her out of that room or not?” I ask angrily.
“Well, yes, of course I do.”
“Then you’re going to have to do exactly as I tell you; otherwise, you’re on your own.”
He pouts. “Fine, is there a certain song and dance I need to do?”
“Song. Barbie Girl by Aqua.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! There’s absolutely no way I’m rocking out to Barbie Girl.”
“Then you won’t get her out of the room. It’s our song. If you play it, she will come.”
“You did not just quote the Field of Dreams.”
“Look, Travis. You’re starting to piss me off. I’m trying to help you out here. If you want to get Breezy out of her room, that’s how you do it. Take it or leave it. Now if you excuse me, I have a five o’clock appointment.” I really don’t. All I want is for Travis to get out of my face. The more I look at him, the sadder I get.
“Okay. Thanks for all your help, Max. If this works, I’m in your debt forever.”
“Whatever,” I grumble. “Do me a favor.”
“What’s up?”
“Treat her like she deserves to be treated. I may not be her friend anymore, but I still care. If you hurt her, cheat on her, or break her in any way . . . I’ll hunt you down and stuff your balls down your throat until you choke on them. Capiche?”
“Got it,” he says gulping loudly.
I turn and start down the hall again.
He shouts after me. “I’m going to ask her to marry me. I plan on spending the rest of my life with this girl.”
I stop dead in my tracks. Hearing those words uttered from his mouth are like rusty razor blades against my skin—sharp and slowly killing me. I can’t bring myself to turn around, nor can I muster any words to say back to him. I keep walking until I get to my office, sit in my chair, and completely fall apart.
I’m the one who is supposed to marry her. Not him.
Chapter Thirty
Breezy
Life simply does not exist without Max.
I’ve come to that conclusion as I lie here on the seventh day without him. I’ve barely slept. I haven’t eaten. All I do is cry and mourn the loss of my best friend. Why is losing him making me feel so empty? People stop being friends all the time. I shouldn’t feel this wrecked about losing Max. I don’t understand what’s going on with my feelings here. This is beyond sadness, beyond loss. This is something totally different. I’m not sure what to call it. The pain I feel hurts all the way to my core. I’m numb and breathless, broken and weak, cold and alone. Even when I lost my parents, I didn’t feel the way I do now. Why is losing Max slowly killing me? He’s my best friend, my crutch, my rock. I shouldn’t be having these feelings, not with him.
I’m not in love with Max. I
can’t be. I’ve never even thought of dating him before, and yet, that night we slept together, everything felt right. It was like I was made for Max, and he was made for me. All I felt the next morning was confusion. During the actual deed, I almost said I love you like five times. I held it in, knowing perfectly well everything I was feeling would go away the moment I woke up. The funny thing is, it didn’t. I still felt Max’s lips. I still felt him inside me. I still felt closer to him than I ever have before . . . that is, until Travis showed up and my head started working again.
Even having Travis here isn’t working for me. Ever since the third day of Max’s departure, he’s been here. I think he stole my key, so he could get in and out—not that I really care. I’m pretty sure I don’t have a job anymore, and really, without Max, I feel like I don’t have much of a life either.
It must be getting close to dinner time. My stomach is growling like crazy. I know eventually I’m going to have to eat something, but I’m stuck in zombie mode and refuse to move.
I want Max. I want to see his smile and hear him laugh. I want to cuddle on the couch and fall asleep in his arms. I want to dance and sing stupid pop songs with him while we look like total idiots. I want to gorge myself on popcorn and M & M’s, cookie dough ice cream, and whip cream in a can. I want my best friend back. No, scratch that. I need my best friend back.
Suddenly, a very familiar sound plays from the living room. “Hi Barbie,” the song says. My heart speeds up, the frown on my face disappears, and a foreign smile edges across my lips. He’s here! Max is here! My aching limbs scramble to get me upright. I know I look like hell. I’m in the same clothes I was in three days ago. I know I smell like a dumpster, but nothing, not even my garbage can smell, is going to keep me from throwing my arms around his thick neck and never letting him go. Like Bambi learning to walk, I steady myself. My legs are pins and needles, shooting with that uncomfortable pain you get when your foot falls asleep. I toddle to the door and throw it open, ready to assault Max with my offending odor and anorexic new body.
“Max?” I screech happily.
I see on the table that there is a bottle of whip cream, a bucket of microwave popcorn mixed with M &M’s, and two pints of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. The new Sandra Bullock movie is playing on the television, and Aqua is blaring loudly from our sound system. I’m smiling so big my face hurts. I haven’t used any of my muscles in days—especially the muscles that control my mouth. I look around excitedly, hoping to get a glimpse of the man responsible for rousing me out of Max’s room. Then I see him coming out of the bathroom. I blink twice, wondering if this is some sick, sadistic, fucked-up dream. Not Max. It’s Travis. What the fuck! Where is my Max?
Travis seems too excited to see me. He smiles proudly and takes a step towards me. I take two gigantic steps away from him. He frowns.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks confused. How can he not see how fucked up this is? This is my thing with Max! This is what Max does to make me feel better. How dare he encroach on that sacred bond between us!
“Where’s Max?” I yell.
“He’s not here,” Travis says in shock. “Why do you look so mad right now?”
“He should be here—not you. This is what Max does for me to make me feel better.”
“I know, he told me.”
Now I feel like the wind has been sucked from my lungs. Max told Travis how to make me feel better? Max siphoned his responsibility off onto someone else. Wait a second. Why did I think that? Why would I be Max’s responsibility? Max is my friend. To make me happy should only be the responsibility of the man I’m romantically involved with, which is supposed to be Travis.
I stare at Travis for a long time. He’s standing by the couch, looking incredibly handsome in his blue jeans and grey polo shirt. His blonde hair is messily askew on his head, and those sexy blue eyes of his are watching me like I’m about to explode. Why am I not running towards him and throwing myself into his arms like I should be? Then it hits me.
Holy mother of all twists! I’m fucking in love with Max!
I’m head over heels, to the moon and back, in love with Max. Why didn’t I see it before? He’s always been right there in front of me. He’s gone out of his way to make me feel better all these years. He’s the reason I continue to laugh and smile every single day. He knows what I love. He knows what I hate. He keeps me grounded, and yet crazy all at the same time. He does everything he can to make me happy: swing dance when he hates it, chick flicks when he despises them. He doesn’t even like chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, but he forces himself to eat it every time I’m sad. He does all of it because he loves me, and what do I do? I jump out of his bed the moment we make love and run straight into the arms of my ex. I pushed him away. I’m the one who sent him packing. Now I may have lost him forever, because I was stupid and obviously blind to the love I’ve been surrounded with for the last ten years.
Travis outstretches his hand and motions for me to come to him. I shake my head as a single tear appears on my cheek.
“I can’t do this, Travis. It’s not fair to you.”
“What’s not fair?” his voice quivers a bit.
“Us. This. I care about you a lot, but seeing you here trying to be Max, made me realize something that I’ve never thought about before.”
He sighs, “You’re in love with him.”
“Yes, I am.”
He pulls a box out of his pocket and gets down on one knee.
Holy cow, he’s going to propose to me!
No! What is he doing?
“Well, I’m in love with you, Breeanne. There isn’t a day that goes by where you’re not on my mind. Watching you wither away the last seven days has killed me. I want to make you happy. I want to spend the rest of my life learning exactly what I need to do to make you smile. I know this may seem like a weird thing to do, seeing as you just announced your love for another man, but I’m hoping it’s enough for you to realize how perfect we are for each other. Breeanne, will you marry me?”
I’m totally flabbergasted right now. Why would he propose to me knowing that I’m in love with Max? It doesn’t make sense at all. He stares up at me with hopeful tears in his eyes. This man on his knees wants to give me forever, yet, he really doesn’t know a single thing about me or who I really am. He had to ask my best friend how to make me feel better for god’s sake.
“What’s my middle name?” I ask him.
“Huh? I don’t know, Lindsey?”
“It’s Nicole. What’s my favorite song?”
“Barbie Girl by Abba.”
“The group is called Aqua, and no, it’s actually Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard,” I answer, completely annoyed. “What is my biggest pet peeve? What am I scared of? What are my parent’s names?”
“I don’t know, but that’s all stuff I want to know.” He gets up off his knees. Finally, he gets the hint.
“We know nothing about each other, Travis. I’m sorry, that I said I loved you. I thought I actually meant it. I realize now, that I was more infatuated with the idea of you, and being in love, than anything else. All along I’ve had true love standing right in front of me. I didn’t realize that’s what it was. Now that I know, I’m not about to let it go without a fight. I’m sorry you felt the need to propose to me. I don’t want to break your heart, but I also need to do what’s right for me. Unfortunately, what’s right for me, isn’t you. I appreciate you trying to make me feel better. I really do. But you’re not Max, and Max is the only person capable of healing these wounds I have.
“So you’re breaking up with me?” he frowns.
“Yes, I’m sorry. I hope we can still be friends.” I’m pretty sure I have a genuine smile on my face, although with the way Travis is staring at me, it’s hard to tell.
“I knew something was going on between the two of you. I knew a woman and a man couldn’t live together and not fall for each other,” he shouts running his hand through his hair.
; “You were right,” I agree. “At the time I couldn’t see it. Now I do. I’m sorry, Travis. I really am.”
He closes up the ring box and squeezes it until his knuckles turn white. “Did you sleep with him while we were together?”
“No, of course not.”
He studies my face to see if I’m lying.
“Well, at least you’re not a cheating whore. Have a nice life Breeanne. I hope giving up what we have is worth it in the end. Don’t bother looking me up once I walk through that door.” He stands there motionless, waiting for me to say something. When I don’t say a word, he turns and walks out the door. A little piece of my heart walks out with him, but it’s nothing like the hole Max left behind.
Immediately I pick up my phone, and dial Maggie’s number. When she picks up, I beg her to help me. I need her to convince Max to go out Friday night. In my heart I know what I’m doing is right. Fighting for the love of my life is the only way to mend the brokenness inside of me. My only hope is that Max takes the bait.
Chapter Thirty-one
Max
Have you ever wanted something so badly, that you start counting the days until you get it? When I was seven, my mom told my sister and me that we were all going to Disneyland at the end of the month. I counted each day up until the moment we left. Well, guess what? The same goes for when you’re losing someone. It’s day eight post Breezy. Every day that goes by is another day that I’m sitting in my old bedroom wondering what she’s doing, or if she’s happy. It’s been eight days since I last saw her smile, heard her voice, and held her in my arms. If I had known it was going to be this hard, I would’ve sucked it up and stayed.
“You look like shit,” a voice breaks into my thoughts. I look up and see my younger sister standing in the doorway. She’s wearing blue jeans and a green crop top. She’s smiling like an idiot.