carried.
I look up and meet his gaze. He’s regarding me with an understanding that feels deep and significant somehow. “Yes,” he says simply. “Now you see.” He reaches over and grabs a brown paper parcel from the ornate side table. “This is for you.”
“Is it lube?” I ask cautiously. “Or sex toys.”
He laughs. “You’re so very easy to buy for, Felix, you little hedonist.” I grin, and his face lights up with eagerness. “Go on, open it,” he says, looking suddenly like the small boy he was once.
I tear open the wrapping and open the parcel to find layers of bubble wrap. It falls away, and I draw in a sharp breath that almost hurts my throat. “Max,” I say. “Oh my God.” My voice is clogged with sudden tears because in my hands is the Rupert annual. The one I remember telling him about at the book signing. The one with my favourite story in it. The one my father took from me and gave to some other child he liked better.
“Do you like it?” he asks.
I laugh and drag a hand clumsily over my eyes. “Max, why are you so fucking wonderful?” I bemoan.
He laughs, gathering me close and kissing my wet eyes. “I can’t help it. It’s my curse in life,” he says solemnly.
I snort a laugh, and he hugs me tight. I want to protest that he’s crushing me, but his grip is perfect in the way that Max is perfect just for me. “It’s too much,” I mutter. “But it’s so fucking brilliant. Thank you.”
He smiles. “That’s okay.”
I shake my head. “No, it isn't. You listen to me. You really listen.”
“I always will,” he says steadily. He hugs me again. “I was going to whisk us off for a very elaborate dinner, but how about we get into our PJs, order room service, and you read that story for me?”
“You want me to read a Rupert the Bear story to you?”
He nods solemnly. “Definitely. Can’t think of anything better.”
And the crazy thing is that he means it. As we lie in bed, his head resting on my shoulder, our legs entwined, and my voice reading the silly and lovely little story, I can feel the happiness radiating from him. He falls asleep holding me, and I lie for a while, thoughts teeming and churning in in my head as I listen to the water splashing outside. And although some of my thoughts include doubts, I still don’t loosen my grip on him.
The flight home is quiet. Max stares out of the window, his expression solemn and withdrawn. In the old days, I’d have been desperate for his attention and despairing that I wasn’t getting it. Now I just realise he’s in a quiet mood. He gets them when he has a lot on his mind. They’re probably a respite from his exuberant personality. Nevertheless, he holds my hand, and when the flight lands at Heathrow, his grip tightens painfully, and I make a sound of protest.
“Sorry,” he says, giving me a quick kiss on my temple and letting go of my hand.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Perfectly fine.” He smiles.
We leave the plane and get through customs quickly. Maybe too quick, because our moment of parting suddenly arrives, and I’m not ready for it. And just like that, I know my decision.
“Max,” I say, stopping dead in the middle of the airport.
A man curses and swerves around me. “Watch where you’re going, you bloody idiot,” he mutters.
“Why don’t you mind your own fucking business?” Max says sharply. “And don’t speak to him like that, you massive bell end.”
“Max,” I say, tugging on his coat. “Leave the twat alone.”
He huffs before looking down at me. Something in my face must alarm him, because he grabs my arm and ignominiously hauls me behind a kiosk. “Felix?” he asks.
I laugh. “I give in, Max.”
“You give in what?”
“I give in. Let’s get back together.”
I fully expect a cry of delight and maybe a snog. Instead, a complicated expression crosses his face, and he pushes his hand through his hair in an agitated fashion.
“Max?”
“I can’t believe that I’m going to say this, but I want you to take a few days to think about it, Felix.”
“What? Why?” I ask, flabbergasted.
“Because you’re still not sure. You’ve been in the mindset of me being a cunt for two and a half years. It’s hard to change that.”
“To be honest, there are days that I do still think that.”
He huffs a laugh. “I don’t