Fractured Bonds and Unspoken Longings.
The morning sunlight streamed through the window as I prepared myself for the day. Fredrick, as caring as ever, was hesitant to let me go when I mentioned I needed to visit the hospital for an emergency. His concern tugged at me, but I managed a reassuring smile.
"Promise me you'll take care of yourself," he said softly, brushing a kiss against my forehead.
"I will," I replied with a nod, stepping out of his car and heading inside.
After spending a few hours at the pediatrician's department, my thoughts drifted to the evening ahead—my meeting with Max. By the time I returned home, it was nearly 8 p.m. I slipped into a sleek black gown that hugged my figure perfectly, the fabric whispering against my skin.
As I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn't help but smirk. "Let him see what he gave up," I muttered under my breath, admiring the way the gown accentuated my curves.
The ride to the meeting place was quiet but uneventful, the taxi rolling through the streets as the once-clear sky began to darken. A light drizzle started, and the world around me grew somber. By the time the taxi stopped at the agreed location, the rain had intensified, and my attempts to call Max were thwarted by poor network reception.
I stepped out into the cool rain and sought refuge under an old oak tree, my dress clinging to me as the weather continued to shift. Across the road, a black car caught my attention. The figure hovering near it seemed familiar, and my heart skipped. Against my better judgment, I walked toward it.
As I approached, the window rolled down to reveal Max, his dark, magnetic gaze locking onto mine.
"Get in," he said with a slight grin.
I slipped into the passenger seat, the warmth of the car a stark contrast to the chill outside. Max drove us a few miles to a small fuel station, and across from it stood an unassuming restaurant.
"Hungry?" he asked, gesturing toward the building.
I nodded.
Inside, the restaurant was quiet and cozy, the scent of traditional soups wafting through the air. We ordered a spicy broth that was impossible to resist, each bite bursting with rich, savory flavors.
Throughout the meal, Max's gaze lingered on me, his eyes tracing my face, my figure, as if trying to memorize every detail. He looked different—his arms broader, his beard fuller—but his intensity remained the same.
I broke the silence, swirling the wine in my glass. "Why did you do it?" I asked, my voice steady, masking the storm brewing inside me.
Max paused mid-bite, swallowed quickly, and took a sip of his wine. "Do what, MMA?" His tone was calm, but I saw the flicker of unease in his eyes.
"You know what I mean," I said, leaning forward slightly. "Why did you leave without a word, Max? Why did you disappear from my life?"
The tension in my voice drew glances from nearby diners. Max leaned closer, his tone hushed. "MMA, calm down. Let's not do this here."
But I wasn't in the mood to be silenced. "No, Max. Speak. Explain yourself. Why did you abandon me?"
Max sighed heavily, setting his spoon down. "I didn't abandon you. I lost everything—my phone, my contacts. I couldn't reach anyone. I was alone, MMA. Completely alone."
His voice cracked slightly, and I noticed his eyes glistening. For a moment, I faltered. Seeing Max so vulnerable was unfamiliar, unsettling.
I softened my tone. "You broke me when you left, Max."
He reached across the table and gently took my hands. "I know," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, MMA. For everything. I swear, I'll never abandon you again."
I pulled my hands away, my resolve hardening. "You don't think I'll let you back into my life that easily, do you?"
A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. "No. I don't expect it. That's why I'll work for it."
"Work for what?" I asked sharply.
"To regain your love and trust," he said simply, his voice steady and sincere.
Silence fell between us, heavy and uncertain. I stood abruptly, excusing myself to the restroom. In the quiet of the restroom, I stared at my reflection, unsure of the emotions swirling within me.
When I returned to the table, Max had already settled the bill. We stepped out into the night, the rain now a light drizzle, and headed to his metallic Lexus.
As we drove, Max reached over, placing my hand on his thigh. His touch was warm, familiar, but I quickly withdrew and looked out the window.
"You don't like me anymore," he said softly. "Tell me, are you seeing someone else?"
I turned to him sharply. "Did you expect me to sit around waiting for you all these years? My life hasn't been empty, Max. I've had men of excellence vying for my love."
Max chuckled, his deep voice filling the car. "Of course. A woman like you would make any man burn for her."
I didn't respond, and the rest of the drive was steeped in silence, the unspoken words hanging heavily between us.