I sigh. “No, Max, I’m not. I just want you to answer the question. I need you to.”
“Yes, I’ve been drinking.”
“And gambling?”
He studies me. “What’s this about, Blue Belle?”
I flinch at his words, because he hasn’t called me that for a good month. It hurts and feels good at the same time.
“I need you to be honest with me, Max. I just . . . I just need you to be straight. Please, no matter what has happened in the last month, I need this from you.”
He studies my face, really studies it. Then he nods.
“Are you still smoking drugs?”
He nods.
“And gambling?”
He nods again.
My heart twists.
“Do you plan on stopping anytime soon?”
His eyes narrow and he sighs, running his hands through his hair. “Anabelle, this isn’t as simple as you think.”
“I’m a person, Max. I’m a damned person, and I deserve more than this. I deserve love and affection and a husband who cares. You told me you’d never hurt me . . .” My voice trails off and breaks.
I can’t look at him.
“So I’m asking you,” I push on, “I need honesty . . . please.”
“I don’t know if I’m going to stop,” he says, his emotion seeming to have been switched off.
“Are you going to tell me why this happened?”
His eyes flash. “What makes you think there’s anything wrong?”
Tears, ugly tears pour out. “So you’re just doing this because you feel like it? Because it’s fun?”
His eyes are hard again. The moment of softness is gone.
“Maybe I’m doing it because I don’t feel anymore.”
It’s as if someone has socked me in the gut. I take a shaky step back. “Pardon?”
“Maybe I don’t love you. Maybe I don’t want to be married. Maybe this is just a waste of time.”
I blink back the burning in my eyes, because what he’s saying can’t be right. He doesn’t love me anymore?
Suddenly, it makes sense. Him pulling away, him being an asshole, him making it clear what I mean to him. He’s fallen out of love with me—hell, maybe he never loved me in the first place. Maybe he just decided that it wasn’t fun anymore. Maybe he’s angry that because of me, he didn’t get the career he wanted.
“Is it because your life didn’t take the path you wanted?” I choke out.
“Maybe.”
I reach out and steady myself on the coffee table.
“It’s a simple answer,” I manage to say, even though my heart is splitting into a thousand tiny pieces. “Do you love me, or is it done?”
He stands, staring at me, his eyes scanning my face. Eyes that I love so damned much.
“No, I don’t love you anymore. I think we need a break.”
Agony rips into my soul and I wrap my hands around my belly, gasping for air. I never thought anything would hurt so much. His words penetrate into my very core and rip it into a thousand tiny shreds. Max . . . my lover, my husband, my best friend, doesn’t love me anymore.
“Did it ever mean anything?” I sob, brokenly.
“I honestly don’t know. Do yourself a favor, Anabelle—get yourself a better life. I’m not that life, and I think you need to accept that.”
He’s studying my face as if he’s waiting for something from me—I just don’t know what that something is. It almost looks as if he’s seeing how hard I’ll fight for him. What he doesn’t understand is that his words have ripped my already broken soul in half. If it was just me, maybe I’d fight, but I have a baby in my stomach.
So I say nothing.
His eyes flash, and then he closes off again and reaches over, grabbing his keys.
He says nothing more. He just walks out the door.
He just ripped my world to shreds, and now he’s leaving without a word.
I guess that leaves only one option for me, and my baby, who deserves so much more than this.
With my broken heart and soul, I pack my things, and like a thief in the night, I disappear.
As if I never existed.
As if Max and Belle just never were.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
NOW – BELLE
“Daddy, push me faster!”
Max is pushing Immy on the swings, a massive smile on his face. I can’t wipe the grin from my own face as her laughter fills the air. Max and I have been taking things slow for a month now, and it’s been incredible. I’m trying not to hold onto the hope that things are going to be perfect, but with every passing day, I’m starting to think we might just be able to make a family.
“Can’t push you any faster, kiddo. You’ll fly off the swing and get hurt.”
Immy scoffs. “No I won’t.”
“Will too. Come on, slow down and we’ll get ice cream.”
“Yippee!”
The swing slows down and Max takes Immy off the swing, lifting her into his big arms. I watch them and my heart swells with happiness. Imogen will always have him as her protector, someone to watch over her and take care of her, always. That’s more than I could have ever asked for. Turning, Max carries her over to me, his face light, just like the boy I fell in love with.
“Hope you’re ready to get fit, handsome.” I laugh. “She’ll keep you on your toes.”
“Fine by me, Blue Belle,” he says, catching my hand.
“Daddy?” Immy asks, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Are you going to marry Mommy?”
“I’m already married to her, kiddo.”
“You are?” she squeals. “How come I didn’t get to wear a dress?”
He chuckles. “Because you weren’t quite born yet.”
I listen to them talk, and I know that we’re going to have to explain to her someday why he missed the first few years of her life, but at least she has him from now on. That’s all that matters.
“What flavor ice cream?” he asks, putting her down.
She races towards the ice cream cart in the park. “Strawverry, strawverry!”
She can’t say strawberry, and it’s damned cute.
Max reaches over, putting an arm around my shoulder. “Clear Saturday night. I’m taking you on a date.”
“You are?” I ask, with wide eyes.
“Fuck yeah I am. Is this serious?”
“That’s a stupid question, right?”
He stops and turns, studying me. “We’ve been through a lot of shit, Blue Belle.”
“And we’ve come out the other side.”
“I hurt you.”
“And I hurt you.”
His lip twitches. “Yeah, right, I get your point. So? A date?”
I wrap my arm around his waist. “Absolutely, handsome.”
He grins.
A real grin, dimples and all.
“How’s things between you and Max?” Rainer asks, sliding a drink towards me.
“Awesome. What about you? Are you liking fighting with him?”
Rainer grins, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “He throws a damned hard punch.”
I giggle. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”
“He’s given me a way to vent and get out the shit in my soul, and that’s a damned good thing.”
“Yes, I’ve been drinking.”
“And gambling?”
He studies me. “What’s this about, Blue Belle?”
I flinch at his words, because he hasn’t called me that for a good month. It hurts and feels good at the same time.
“I need you to be honest with me, Max. I just . . . I just need you to be straight. Please, no matter what has happened in the last month, I need this from you.”
He studies my face, really studies it. Then he nods.
“Are you still smoking drugs?”
He nods.
“And gambling?”
He nods again.
My heart twists.
“Do you plan on stopping anytime soon?”
His eyes narrow and he sighs, running his hands through his hair. “Anabelle, this isn’t as simple as you think.”
“I’m a person, Max. I’m a damned person, and I deserve more than this. I deserve love and affection and a husband who cares. You told me you’d never hurt me . . .” My voice trails off and breaks.
I can’t look at him.
“So I’m asking you,” I push on, “I need honesty . . . please.”
“I don’t know if I’m going to stop,” he says, his emotion seeming to have been switched off.
“Are you going to tell me why this happened?”
His eyes flash. “What makes you think there’s anything wrong?”
Tears, ugly tears pour out. “So you’re just doing this because you feel like it? Because it’s fun?”
His eyes are hard again. The moment of softness is gone.
“Maybe I’m doing it because I don’t feel anymore.”
It’s as if someone has socked me in the gut. I take a shaky step back. “Pardon?”
“Maybe I don’t love you. Maybe I don’t want to be married. Maybe this is just a waste of time.”
I blink back the burning in my eyes, because what he’s saying can’t be right. He doesn’t love me anymore?
Suddenly, it makes sense. Him pulling away, him being an asshole, him making it clear what I mean to him. He’s fallen out of love with me—hell, maybe he never loved me in the first place. Maybe he just decided that it wasn’t fun anymore. Maybe he’s angry that because of me, he didn’t get the career he wanted.
“Is it because your life didn’t take the path you wanted?” I choke out.
“Maybe.”
I reach out and steady myself on the coffee table.
“It’s a simple answer,” I manage to say, even though my heart is splitting into a thousand tiny pieces. “Do you love me, or is it done?”
He stands, staring at me, his eyes scanning my face. Eyes that I love so damned much.
“No, I don’t love you anymore. I think we need a break.”
Agony rips into my soul and I wrap my hands around my belly, gasping for air. I never thought anything would hurt so much. His words penetrate into my very core and rip it into a thousand tiny shreds. Max . . . my lover, my husband, my best friend, doesn’t love me anymore.
“Did it ever mean anything?” I sob, brokenly.
“I honestly don’t know. Do yourself a favor, Anabelle—get yourself a better life. I’m not that life, and I think you need to accept that.”
He’s studying my face as if he’s waiting for something from me—I just don’t know what that something is. It almost looks as if he’s seeing how hard I’ll fight for him. What he doesn’t understand is that his words have ripped my already broken soul in half. If it was just me, maybe I’d fight, but I have a baby in my stomach.
So I say nothing.
His eyes flash, and then he closes off again and reaches over, grabbing his keys.
He says nothing more. He just walks out the door.
He just ripped my world to shreds, and now he’s leaving without a word.
I guess that leaves only one option for me, and my baby, who deserves so much more than this.
With my broken heart and soul, I pack my things, and like a thief in the night, I disappear.
As if I never existed.
As if Max and Belle just never were.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
NOW – BELLE
“Daddy, push me faster!”
Max is pushing Immy on the swings, a massive smile on his face. I can’t wipe the grin from my own face as her laughter fills the air. Max and I have been taking things slow for a month now, and it’s been incredible. I’m trying not to hold onto the hope that things are going to be perfect, but with every passing day, I’m starting to think we might just be able to make a family.
“Can’t push you any faster, kiddo. You’ll fly off the swing and get hurt.”
Immy scoffs. “No I won’t.”
“Will too. Come on, slow down and we’ll get ice cream.”
“Yippee!”
The swing slows down and Max takes Immy off the swing, lifting her into his big arms. I watch them and my heart swells with happiness. Imogen will always have him as her protector, someone to watch over her and take care of her, always. That’s more than I could have ever asked for. Turning, Max carries her over to me, his face light, just like the boy I fell in love with.
“Hope you’re ready to get fit, handsome.” I laugh. “She’ll keep you on your toes.”
“Fine by me, Blue Belle,” he says, catching my hand.
“Daddy?” Immy asks, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Are you going to marry Mommy?”
“I’m already married to her, kiddo.”
“You are?” she squeals. “How come I didn’t get to wear a dress?”
He chuckles. “Because you weren’t quite born yet.”
I listen to them talk, and I know that we’re going to have to explain to her someday why he missed the first few years of her life, but at least she has him from now on. That’s all that matters.
“What flavor ice cream?” he asks, putting her down.
She races towards the ice cream cart in the park. “Strawverry, strawverry!”
She can’t say strawberry, and it’s damned cute.
Max reaches over, putting an arm around my shoulder. “Clear Saturday night. I’m taking you on a date.”
“You are?” I ask, with wide eyes.
“Fuck yeah I am. Is this serious?”
“That’s a stupid question, right?”
He stops and turns, studying me. “We’ve been through a lot of shit, Blue Belle.”
“And we’ve come out the other side.”
“I hurt you.”
“And I hurt you.”
His lip twitches. “Yeah, right, I get your point. So? A date?”
I wrap my arm around his waist. “Absolutely, handsome.”
He grins.
A real grin, dimples and all.
“How’s things between you and Max?” Rainer asks, sliding a drink towards me.
“Awesome. What about you? Are you liking fighting with him?”
Rainer grins, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “He throws a damned hard punch.”
I giggle. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”
“He’s given me a way to vent and get out the shit in my soul, and that’s a damned good thing.”
