Coming of Age

by Ciana Stone

  “You shouldn’t have.” She said, continuing to look outside.

  “Yes, I should.” He turned her to face him. “And there’s something you need to know.”

  When she stared silently at him, he continued. “When you were in a coma in Germany, I was there.”

  He saw the surprise register on her face and in her eyes and felt the subtle jump of her body under his hands. “I found out a week after you were transferred to Germany. There was an article in the paper about the bombing. I sold my car and bought a ticket. “

  “You what?” her voice was a choked whisper.

  “I sat with you for two weeks. The doctors said that often people who are in a coma hear what people are saying, so I talked to you. Every day, all day. I told her a story. A story about us. About how it would have been if you hadn’t left.

  “It was the story you dreamed, Livi.”

  “That’s…it’s not… you were there? Why?”

  “Because I loved you and I was scared you were going to die. I had to be there, to tell you.”

  “But you weren’t there when I woke. No one told me—“

  “My father showed up. I’d called and asked him and Mom for money. I was broke. I slept in the chair in your room and didn’t have money to eat. He came and took me home. Two days before you woke.

  “I tried to talk him into lending me money so I could stay but he refused. I’d been offered a director’s position on a film. He said I couldn’t throw that chance away. That you wouldn’t want me to.”

  Max was suddenly unable to face her with what he had to say next. He released her and turned away. “I could have worn him down, could have made him give me the money. But I chose to leave. I walked away from you. Left you lying in that bed alone.”

  He took a breath and turned to look at her. “I left you alone, Livi.”

  He could not have surprised her more. On many levels. He’d rushed to her, flown halfway around the world to sit with her and tell her a story that had always been her dream.

  And he’d chosen to take an opportunity that might not have come around again rather than stay with her. Funny, but that didn’t bother her at all. She understood all too well. She’d given up many things in her life for her career. She understood that drive and that need.

  It didn’t matter that he’d chosen to take his opportunity. What mattered is that he had come to her. He’d traveled half a world to be with her. He was the only one.

  “He was right, Max. I wouldn’t have wanted you to pass up the chance.”

  “I should have stayed. I shouldn’t have let him talk me into--”

  “Max, no. Don’t do that. Don’t blame him or yourself. Your dad made his share of mistakes, but we all did. He loves you and he thought he was doing what was best for you. Don’t fault him for that.”

  “But if I had stayed we might have been able—“

  “No,” she said gently. “I was a mess, Max. You couldn’t have fixed me. I had to learn to fix myself.”

  “Have you?”

  She smiled up at him. “I’m working on it.”

  He blew out his breath and ran his hands back through his hair, a gesture she remembered so well. “I’ve made such a mess of things, Livi.”

  “We all did,” she replied and took his hand to lead him to the sofa. “Don’t try and take all the responsibility on yourself, Max.”

  He sat beside her, gripping her hand. “I am so sorry.”

  Olivia wasn’t prepared to walk that path just yet, to talk about where they’d gone wrong and what might have been if they had acted differently. It wasn’t going to change anything. They couldn’t undo the past. They could only try and find a way to accept it and move on.

  “So, I hear there’s a big book signing tour in your future,” she said, changing the subject.

  “Yeah, it starts here in a week.”

  “I guess I’m going to have to read it. The editor at the magazine said it was wonderful.”

  “So you know about it?”

  She shook her head. “No. To be honest I wouldn’t let her tell me anything about it. Why don’t you? What’s it about?”

  He was quiet for a long pause and in that time, she saw the Max she remembered appear in his eyes. She saw longing, nervousness, and excitement compete for dominance. He looked away as he answered.

  “It’s about a boy who comes of age in the arms of an older woman. About a boy who learns about love and loss.”

  Olivia waited until he looked at her. When he did, the most miraculous thing happened. All of the pain vanished. In its place was acceptance. What had happened had shaped both of them into who they were in this moment and for better or worse, they had to embrace those experiences and appreciate that for one brief moment they knew what it meant to love.

  “You wrote about us?” she asked, even though she knew what his answer would be.

  “Yes.”

  “God now I’m even more scared to read it.”

  “Why? It’s a romance. People will think it’s fiction.”

  Olivia felt her spirit lighten and with that, she remembered her ability to tease. “A romance? Max, you didn’t write a sappy love story did you?”

  She saw the surprise on his face. He blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, and blinked again. She grinned and tugged on his hand. “Come on, fess up, Max.”

  When he laughed, it was the most beautiful sound she’d heard in a very long time. “Yeah, actually I did.”

  Olivia shook her head. “Well who would’ve thought? And what about the dedication, you know the one Benjamin asked about in the interview?”

  Max reached inside his coat, pulled out a copy of the book, and handed it to her. She opened it to the dedication page.

  “For Livi. It was with you I came of age. It is with you I want to walk through time.”

  Olivia made no effort to stem the tears or hide them from him. Her time of hiding was over. She looked up into his eyes. “Is that even possible, Max? There’s been so much time—so much hurt. There’s not much we don’t know about each other.

  “And so much we do. Discovery can be good, Livi. Learning what life has added to us.”

  “Some of it’s not very pretty, Max.”

  “That’s just life. I love you, Livi. I always have.” He moved his hand up behind her head, pulling her close. “Do you love me?”

  There it was. The question she’d run from for so long. Strangely, it no longer scared her. “I always have, Max.”

  “Then don’t we owe it to ourselves to try?”

  Something blossomed inside her, something filled with hope yet tinted with fear. “Maybe you’re right. I want you to be but I’m scared. I’m forty years old, Max and aside from the six months we had, I’ve never had a real relationship. Maybe I don’t know how.”

  He smiled at her. “Then maybe it’s your turn, Livi. Maybe you never had your turn to come of age and you need someone to guide you. Let that be me. Come on, isn’t it time we write some happy chapters in our sappy love story?”

  Olivia waited a beat, expecting fear to rise and stop her. But the fear was gone. Only hope remained. She smiled at him.

  “Yes.”

  Max guided her to him. His arms held her close as his lips claimed hers. Everything she’d ever felt for him came rushing back, strong and true and ready to face whatever came next, as long as he was by her side.

  It had been a long and sometimes painful journey, but at long last, she was finally home.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter Three

 

 

 
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