Chapter 28 - Naomi
“How’s Maxie doing these days?” My mom says as the nurse hooks her up to the IV. I sit back in my chair, glancing at my phone’s blank screen. I frown before putting it away. I haven’t heard from Max all day, which is unusual.
Typically he’d text me at least once during the day—even just a funny picture or a couple words about his day. I’ve sent him a message and he hasn’t replied yet.
Was he freaked out by the whole ‘I love you’ thing?
I know I am, kind of. It just blurted out of me, I couldn’t help it.
He’s probably just busy.
My mother is staring at me expectantly, so I force a smile on my face. “Call him Max, please, Mom,” I laugh. “Maxie sounds like maxi-pad.”
“I’ll call him whatever I want to call him,” she huffs as she watches the nurse hook her up to a bag of medication. “Thank you, Cheryl. You found a vein easily today, didn’t you?”
“You’re nice and veiny, Jackie,” the nurse laughs. “We all fight to be the ones to hook you up.” She gestures to the other nurses and my mother smiles proudly, smoothing her hands on her lap. She leans back in her chair, breathing deeply and looking at me.
“You never answered my question. How’s Max doing?”
“He’s good,” I say. “Busy with work, as usual. Him and his football buddies are going to go to the game on Sunday.”
“That will be nice,” she replies. I put my hand over hers, stroking it gently. Her skin is paper-thin, and I hate how sunken her cheeks are. At least she doesn’t have to drive for hours to get here anymore.
I sit with her until the treatment is over, and then I help her into the wheelchair.
“It’s so silly that I have to do this. I can walk!”
“Hospital policy,” I say. “Just enjoy the ride.” We walk in silence towards the exit. “I noticed you got some art supplies,” I say. “Have you been painting?”
“Yes, but you can’t peek at it,” my mom says, reaching up and squeezing my hand on the wheelchair. “It’s a wedding present for you and Maxie.”
A dagger slides into my heart.
It’s one thing for Max and I to be confused. It’s another thing entirely to be getting my Mom’s hopes up. A wedding present? I didn’t think she’d be happy with me getting married at all.
“You’ve always told me to never get married. What’s going on?”
“Maybe my brush with mortality is making me sentimental,” she says, and I can hear the grin in her voice. Then she sighs and turns her head to try to look at me as I push her down the stark white hospital hallways. “I’m happy for you, Naomi. Max is wonderful.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, nodding.
“Yeah,” I say. “He is.”
By the time my mom is back at my apartment, I check my phone for what feels like the thousandth time. Still nothing from Max. I dial his number on my way out and frown when it goes straight to voicemail.
This definitely isn’t normal.
Has something happened to him? I don’t have any of his friends’ phone numbers, and it would probably be a bit of an overreaction to call them when I haven’t heard from him in a couple hours.
Instead, I just get in my car and head towards his place. I’m sure he’ll be there, greeting me with a big hug and a kiss. Still, a niggling feeling at the base of my skull makes me uneasy. Something doesn’t feel right.
I check my phone again. I go into my social media applications, and see that he’s online. I send him a quick message.
He sees it, but doesn’t answer.
My heart thumps.
What’s going on?
Maybe saying the ‘L’ word really did freak him out this morning. Am I going to go home to a serious ‘talk’? What am I walking into?
I resist the urge to send another message. Is he mad at me?
My hands are shaking. I take a deep breath. My mind is going into a panic vortex, and I need to just stop worrying. Max is fine, we’re fine, I’ll go home and everything will be okay.
I dial Ariana’s number and put her on through the car’s hands-free setting.
“Well hello, stranger,” she says as she answers. “Long time no talk.”
“I know,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no, no, I get it,” she laughs. “You’re all shacked up with a multi-billionaire, or whatever. You don’t have time for your friends anymore. If you didn’t work with Meg, you probably wouldn’t talk to her at all.”
“Stop it,” I laugh. “What’s new with you? Any new boyfriends?”
Ariana laughs. “Always.” She launches into a story about her newest beau, an investment banker who works on Wall Street.
“He booked a penthouse suite at the Ritz. It was insane. He wants to fly me out to Paris!”
“No,” I laugh. “Really?!”
“Romantic getaway,” she laughs.
“Are you going to do it?”
“Are you joking? Obviously!”
I laugh and the tightness in my chest eases. Ariana’s right, I’ve been neglecting my friends too much. Max could be busy, or cooking, or he could be doing a thousand things that stop him from answering my text. I shouldn’t freak out.
By the time I hang up the phone, I feel better.
I park under Max’s building and head towards the elevator, taking a deep breath and smiling. I’ll wrap my arms around Max, around my love, and I’ll kiss his gorgeous lips.
Life is good, and I shouldn’t freak myself out over nothing.
When I get to the door, I take a deep breath. I push it open, step through and call out as I walk in.
“Hello? I’m home!”
I don’t see Max until he appears from the bedroom door. I freeze. His eyes are sunken. They’re darker than I’ve ever seen them, as black as the ocean during a storm. His mouth is turned down, with lines carved across his forehead. His arms hang loosely by his side. He clenches and unclenches his fists.
I clutch my purse, frowning.
“Max,” I say. “What’s wrong?”
My pulse is thundering. He opens his mouth and then closes it again. His eyebrows draw together another fraction of an inch, and another line appears on his forehead. He lets out a sigh, shaking his head slowly.
“What?” I say. I take a step forward. “What’s going on? What happened? Is everything okay?”
“No,” he finally says. His voice is strangled. I hardly recognize it. There’s none of the warmth, none of the familiarity that I’m used to. His eyes flash and his mouth turns down. “No, everything is most definitely not ‘okay’.”
He spits out the last word, and my entire world crumbles around me.