Serendipitous

Part 11

My breath catches. My hands go limp. A thousand memories of that night dance over the vast surface of my eyes, and even though it's been less than two days since I've last seen him, it could just as easily be a decade.

He hasn't seen me enter yet, his eyes instead trained on the window to his left. I take this opportunity to simply look at him, knowing these photos could potentially be the end of everything we've become, both personal and career wise.

I only get to admire the softness of his eyes for a few seconds though, as he turns towards my looming figure, lifting a hand, waving me over. My feet luckily know how to tackle the situation, walking me over to the booth, our booth. Max stands up as I grow closer, surprising me by opening up his arms, and drawing me in for a hug. 

What?

I'm stunned.

I didn't gain much emotion from our short phone call yesterday, but I was certain that Max would be mad, particularly at me. And yet... he's hugging me. And not just a I-sort-of-have-to hug, but a real, genuine I-need-this-as-much-as-you-do hug.

He doesn't let go of me, even after a few seconds, and I find my eyes falling shut, and my body sinking into his. I can smell the distinct aroma of his aftershave, a calming scent in the middle of all this madness. I feel his lips brush across my hair as I settle into his body, and with reluctance and a freshly beating heart, I eventually pull away from him. I mean, we are in the middle of a diner, where a lot of other people are present. With cameras, or phones that have cameras.

Max holds onto my arm though, helping to coax me into the opposite side of the booth to where he was previously sitting. He only lets go once I smile tightly at him, sliding into his original side of the table. Strangely enough, I hate that he's sitting on the other side of the booth, and not on the same side like when we went to get ice-cream. Everything felt so much easier when we were sitting like that, so much more carefree and connecting. But, I guess this more professional.

Max hands me a spare menu, and we spend the next few minutes quietly conversing until we're ready to order. Once a waiter has moved across to our table and taken our menus, a sinking feeling falls back into my chest, and I lower my eyes to focus on the table, avoiding eye contact of any description. But, like always when I'm around Max, I can't hide for long, as the clearing of his throat pulls me back to alertness. Our eyes lock instantly, the intensity of Max's stare sending an electric shiver down every inch of my body.

"So..." he starts out, never once dropping my gaze. I shift uncomfortable a little, my mouth open and ready to speak. But words fail me, my mouth left agape in its quiet. Luckily, the waiter returns with our drinks, giving me a few extra seconds to try and think of something to say, so I don't end up looking like an idiot.

The waiter leaves with a smile, dread filling my stomach as I turn towards Max once more.

I still have nothing to say, and I don't know when I'll ever find the words.

Max

She looks stressed. Like there's the weight of the world on her shoulders, a weight she can't shake off. And maybe there is. I have absolutely no clues, but if I do nothing else today, I will find out what the weight is, and hopefully shoulder some of it for her.

She's almost shaking in front of me, and I know by the way her mouth opens and closes that she's thinking of something to say. Something she doesn't know how to put into words. Something that's definitely due to those stupid pictures.

"I'm sorry." Her voice is small, almost quivering as she blurts out those two, short words. 

"For what?" I ask, the level of my own voice dwindling by the second.