A Week In Rome | AWI series |✔

» sunday

Finally, it was time to leave. I got up from the seat that I'd been sitting in for hours and made my way past the security guards and the security checks, shuffling between other passengers.

Before I could step through, a man in a security guard uniform stopped me.

"Ma'am, you cannot bring that on the plane," he said, motioning to the side of my backpack. I was confused as I reached into the pocket, my fingers touching cold metal.

I brought my hand in front of me, only to see a can of pepper spray in my palm.

My ears tuned out the words of the security guard, and all of a sudden, time stopped. A rush of emotions made me numb from head to toe.

A simple promise, a simple request to trust Max, became so much more. At that moment, it didn't matter what was practically correct.

To go back to my life was the most logical thing to do. This trip to Rome--my time with Max was a dream that I had to wake up from. But I couldn't. I had found something rare, and it ignited a fire within me that I just couldn't put out. Not yet.

"I... I forgot something." I stumbled back from the guard and the line of people waiting to board. And I ran.

My feet carried me down the escalator, and out of the airport. It was adrenaline that was pumping through my veins as I looked right. Then left. I entangled my hands in my hair, and glanced up at the giant clock on a street lamp.

7 p.m.

And it was Sunday.

I drew in a sharp breath and began running towards a bus that was parting from the station. I jumped on at the last second, ignoring the way that the driver scowled at me.

What was I doing? What was I going to say to Max? Did any of this make sense?

No. It didn't. But I found myself listening to my heart, nothing else.

I nearly fell on my way out of the bus once it lurched to stop. 

And I glanced down the trail that I'd followed Marco down a week ago. My feet moved fast as I pushed through people, and I wasn't sure when I'd started crying, but there were tears falling uncontrollably down my cheeks.

When I saw the familiar gray concrete of the Ponte Cavour, I stumbled to a stop. In front of me, three children ran into the bridge, playfully pushing one another around

And on the other end: Max. My Max.

He was standing against the ledge, hands on concrete. The muscles in his back were outlined through his t-shirt as he ran a hand through his messy hair.

I sighed in relief, not sure of what I would've done if he wasn't there.

My feet carried me towards him, and I came to a stop right beside him. It took all that was in me not to embrace him right then and there.

"I never had to use this," I said, holding the pepper spray out to him. Startled, he jumped back a little, his eyes widening. His cheeks were flushed, eyes red.

Max had been crying.

"Amora." Within seconds, his arms were wrapped around me. He ran his hands repeatedly through my hair, and I could feel his breathing grow unsteady. He pulled away, taking a deep breath, his hands on my shoulders.

"Why are you so stubborn?" He spoke the words through a smile, but his voice genuinely held concern.

"It doesn't matter, Max. I want to stay with you. Until the end."

He raised his eyebrows, his expression conflicted. His eyes were locked into mine as he pushed the hair on his forehead aside.

I was sure of my words, and my face was stern; there was no changing my mind. Finally, he nodded slowly.

He took my hands in his.

"Do you remember when I told you I did not have any regrets?" He asked, his accent stronger now that he was emotional. Butterflies danced in my stomach, but I suppressed a grin.

"Of course."

He shut his eyes briefly, reopening them to reveal storms of green rain and lightning.

"I lied. I regret not meeting you sooner."

So much pain was evident in his voice as he spoke his heart to me. I placed a hand on his shaky chest, counting his heartbeats as I spoke. I wanted to be with him. Until the very. Last. One.

"Solo dettagli, Max." I smiled through my words, though a part of me wanted to break down.

He returned the gesture, the smile on his lips being worth every ounce of pain. He stepped onto the edge of the bridge and offered me his hand.

And though I'd taken his hand many times, this time was different. It was a promise that neither him nor I had spoken, but understood nonetheless.

I dropped my backpack on the ground and stepped onto the ledge with him.

"We can go wherever you want, Max," I said, my voice full of happiness. He nodded as the liveliness returned to his features.

"Let's start tomorrow." He looked down at the still waters below us. An idea crossed his mind, and the corners of his lips turned upwards into a smile. "For now, shall we?"

Tightening my grasp around his fingers, I took a deep breath. I knew what he was asking without having to make him clarify. And I nodded.

Hand in hand, we leaped off the bridge, screaming as we did it. It felt like we were flying only momentarily; the wind that caressed us before was now carrying our bodies as they fell. The water that succumbed us was cold, but friendly, allowing us to resurface seconds later.

Our tears could not be distinguished from the water of the river as we floated in it, our foreheads touching. It was the way that I wanted to remember Max. And the way that I always will.

Through him, I found love where I never thought I would. In a strange city, among strangers. And though the clouds kept moving and the skies changed colors each day, my love for Max didn't change.

It didn't matter how long he had left. Until Max would take his last breath, it was going to be the two of us. No one else in the world. And as long as we allowed it to, time would continue to stand still.