are. I’ve seen men, a lot of them, in love, and none of them look at their women the way he was lookin’ at you. I think maybe the problem here is that you can’t see it anymore.”
I look away, hands trembling.
“I was a bad wife.”
He sits down beside me, stretching his long legs out. “How so?”
“I didn’t realize he was in pain. That he was suffering. I let him push me away and then I had a child he didn’t know about.”
He’s silent for so long, I sigh.
“Go ahead and say it. I’m a shit person.”
“I don’t judge anyone. I’ve seen bad shit, enough of it that I don’t ever pretend to understand why people do the things they do. All I know is that if you think it’s wrong, and it’s hurting him, then you fix it.”
“I would if I knew how to.”
“Dig deep. There’s always an answer.”
I look over at him, and smile weakly. “I guess you’re not a bad seed after all.”
He grins.
I think I like Raide.
~*~*~*~
Max returns ten minutes later, and the moment he steps through the door my heart squeezes and tears burn under my lids. He orders everyone out of the room, and Raide stands, flashing me a smile before shaking Max’s hand and walking out. Then we’re alone. I don’t know what to say to him. I don’t even know where to begin. I look into his brown eyes, and I can see the pain there, and I wonder how the hell I ever missed it.
“You were protecting me,” I say softly, the first words that come to my lips.
I’ve had this thought countless times in the last hour, but hearing it out loud makes it so much more real.
“I wasn’t going to let some fucker hit you and just leave you there, Ana.”
“I didn’t mean then,” I say, trying to keep the pain from my voice. “I meant when we were married.”
He flinches, and I know I’m right.
I’m such a fool. He pushed me away to protect me. To keep the pain from entering my world. If I was paying attention, if I was giving him what I should have been giving him, I would have seen that. The night in the hospital, I would have seen that he wasn’t telling me the truth. I guess a part of me wanted to believe nothing had happened, because the very idea terrified me. How selfish.
“Why, Max?” I say, standing on trembling legs. “Why didn’t you lean on me?”
He looks down at his hands, jaw clenching, fists balled.
I step closer, reaching up and cupping his jaw. “Why?”
“Because if the light had been taken from your eyes, I wouldn’t have coped,” he says, his voice thick and slightly broken.
I don’t understand.
“You didn’t tell me so I wouldn’t get sad? So my eyes wouldn’t cry for you?”
He reaches up, taking my chin in his hands. “Your eyes are the only things I’ve had throughout all this. When you looked at me that day in the hospital, they were full of fear. Fear that whatever I had to tell you would destroy everything beautiful we’d ever created.”
“Max, no,” I say, feeling so hurt, so broken and so devastated that he’d think that.
“I couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t look into your eyes and see pain that I’d created.”
“If that was the case, why did you push me away?” Tears are burning my eyes now, but I keep my eyes on his.
“Because what was inside me slowly ate me away until there was nothing fucking left. After that, I was numb. I thought I could handle it, thought I could keep it from you and go back to my life, but I couldn’t.”
“What happened out there?”
He lets me go and turns away, his whole body stiff. I step forward, putting my hand on his back. “Please.”
He keeps his back to me, but starts speaking in a cut-off voice, devoid of any emotion. That scares me, but I let him talk. I need him to talk, but most of all, he needs this.
“I was driving home, off in my own world. I heard the screeching of car tires and saw a car just launch off the road and down the side. I pulled over and got my flashlight, then ran over to help. I called for an ambulance when I saw the state of the car. It was wrapped around a tree, and so fucked . . .”
His voice trails off, but I say nothing. I just let him continue