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The drive homefrom Bobby and Em’s house is quiet. We don’t even listen to the radio. The only noise is the traffic and me changing the gears. After Tom’s swift exit, I figured it was only right that Max and I left too. Bobby and Emma waved us off, so did Kyle and Cassy but their smiles weren’t wide like they had been all evening. Max’s choice has put this strange invisible barrier up that nobody knows how to cross or even how to react to.
What I said back there was true, I knew the label would come after Max for a solo tour, or an album at least. They’d want their pound of flesh and any attempt of getting the band together this year would have been futile with everything that’s been going on, so logically and financially it made sense to target Max to be the star of the show. I’ve never liked Preston Miller. He’s always made my skin crawl the way he talks to my tits and not my face. The way he makes it very well known that he’s not faithful to his wife and that he loves nothing more than money and making lots of it. I can only imagine the images he’s tried to weave into Max’s head about why this is a good idea.
I can only imagine what he’d think if he knew about me—about us.
Because that’s the sad thing. I’d have never stopped Max. If he really thought, if he really thinks that this is the best step for his career then I’d have never stood in his way. I’d like to think I’d have supported him. That we’d discuss it. Talk about it. Plan the best plan of action.
But no.
I stop the car at the junction near Max’s apartment. Indicator on, I press on the hand break.
“Do you not want to park in the garage?” he asks. His voice is innocent. It’s the first time he’s spoken since we left Bobby’s house. I blink, trying to fight back the tears because pulling into the parking garage and parking my little BMW hatchback next to his steel grey custom Aston Martin would just be too normal. Too familiar.
“I don’t even know why you still have such an expensive fucking car when you aren’t even allowed to drive it,” I snap. I don’t know where the venom came from, I just feel angry.
Hurt.
“I’ll sell it then. It can be gone by tomorrow if you don’t think I should keep it,” he says innocently, again like it’ll answer all of our problems. I don’t say anything. I can’t.
His fingers find my thigh and he squeezes. I look at his hand on my leg, fighting back the tears I push his hand away.
“Angel,” he whispers.
“Don’t, Max,” I warn him.
“Angel, I’ll get rid of it.”
“Get rid of what?” I snap as I look into his eyes. Huge hazel orbs just begging for me to understand him.
“The car.”
“It’s not about the fucking car, Max,” I chastise, my own tears falling down my face. His fingers singeing my skin as he wipes them from my cheeks.
“I know it’s not. I’m sorry, Ali. It’s just… I didn’t know what to do. I want to be a good man, a good dad. One day I want to be a good husband. A man you can be proud of, I can’t do that sitting on the side lines,” he whispers.
I’m mute. I don’t have an answer. I just don’t know anymore.
“Are you not coming up?” He asks.
“No. I’m not.”
“But… But you’re moving in with me still? You still want to live here?” His voice is a little panicked.
“Max, I just don’t know anymore. I think maybe we’ve moved a little fast. We’ve got stuff to sort out. You’ve got stuff to work out before we go any further.” I exhale as I turn my face from his, seeing his eyes water like that is making me dizzy and sadder and more broken than I have felt for a long time.
“Ali, Ali, what do you mean?”
“We just need time, Max. This is massive and you didn’t even breathe a word about it to me, and that’s fine, but we both need our priorities in check. Don’t we? You’ve got a lot more to focus on before we can be stupid enough to fall into bed together again,” I say as I press the central locking button on the car to unlock the passenger door.
“Good night, Max.”
“Ali—” he mumbles. “Ali, I don’t know what to say, I just—”
“Max, just stop okay. Take this.” I slide him the manila envelope that I’d kept in the inside pocket of the car. He takes it from my hands, brushing my fingertips and igniting every fibre possible in my body. I turn my head even further from his as the tears drop down my cheeks.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“Max! For fuck’s sake. Please,” I beg him. My fingertips digging into the leather steering wheel as the tears escape my eyes. I don’t know how much more my fragile hormonal heart can take right now.
Max leans over to me, his lips puckering as he leaves a small kiss on my cheek before he turns and grabs the door handle and steps out of the car.
