CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
It had been two days since Carrie had seen Max at that restaurant. Two days of thinking about him. No, make that obsessing about him. How terrible he’d looked as if he was being tortured by demons. At first she’d been sort of evil and glad he was suffering but the more she thought about it, the sadder she became. Neither one of them was happy and this wasn’t healthy. They both needed closure and to move on, otherwise this was going to eat at both of them until they were mere shadows of their previous selves.
She didn’t want to feel anything for him but she was in love and to pretend otherwise would be a waste of time. Until she was over the jerk, she was going to worry about him.
Speaking of getting over a man…
Paige had called and tried to push Carrie into a blind date with some actor friend of Nate’s. She hadn’t admitted who it actually was but from the hints she was dropping it was going to be another famous man with too many female admirers. Carrie had had enough of those types to last her a lifetime. She’d rather be alone right now so she could heal.
Ice cream. That’s what she needed. Wandering into the kitchen of her new flat, Carrie opened the freezer and contemplated her choices. Mint chocolate chip. Chocolate marshmallow. Caramel cookie swirl.
It was a mint chocolate chip kind of day so she grabbed the carton and a spoon, settling on her brand new couch. The television was on but the volume was low, more background noise than anything else. Everything in the flat was new since she still had her condo in Florida. It should have been fun picking out furnishings but instead it had been as depressing as hell. It had felt as if she was decorating a home where she would die alone.
Carrie was a third of the way through the carton when she heard a knock at the door. Few people knew she had moved from Paige and Nate’s house so it was probably someone lost or maybe trying to sell her something she didn’t need. She wanted to ignore the persistent and now impatient knocking but she was simply one of those people that had to answer whether it was a door or a phone. Even emails didn’t sit in her inbox for long.
With an exasperated groan, she pushed herself up off the couch and set her ice cream on the table. She’d be back to it just as soon as she could dispatch her visitor.
“I’m coming. Hold your horses,” she muttered under her breath, hurrying to the door.
The air in her lungs whooshed out and her knees almost buckled when she saw who was on the other side.
Max.
“What are you doing here?”
Carrie sounded almost normal which was an accomplishment, considering her heart was no longer beating and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
He didn’t answer her question, posing one of his own instead. “May I come in?”
Get with the program, girl. Think. Use your head this time.
“I can’t imagine one good thing that would come from that.”
His gaze dropped to the floor and then back up, those blue eyes beseeching. Jesus, she was such a fucking wimp. He gave her the puppy-dog look and she was all gooey.
“Please.”
If he’d gone on and on pleading his case on her doorstep she would have said no. But it was the simple way he asked. Just one word. Quietly spoken but with so much emotion behind it. She found herself stepping back so he could enter.
But showing weakness was a terrible, awful, really bad idea. She had to stiffen her spine even when all she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms.
“You have five minutes and then you need to go.”
Max didn’t make a move to sit down, instead standing in the middle of her living room looking thoroughly ashamed. Good.
Like the other night, she noticed again that it appeared he’d lost weight. His cheekbones looked sharper and his eyes had a sunken appearance to go along with the dark circles underneath. His hands were shoved into his pockets and when he pulled them out they had a slight tremor. Seeing him so emotional was doing things to her heart. That stupid organ that she’d let make far too many decisions lately. That piece of her was screaming in one ear to drag him into the bedroom but there was another voice just as loud in the other telling her to be careful.
Don’t listen to the bad man.
Finally his eyes met hers and he nervously licked his lips. “May I have a glass of water?”
That piece of her – the part that couldn’t forget what he meant to her – wanted to say yes, but she stomped on it with a virtual booted heel. No mercy. He’d given her none before.
“You won’t be here that long. Now what did you want to say?”
His throat worked and then he cleared his throat. “I’ve done you a great injustice and in the process possibly inflicted irreparable harm to our relationship.”
This was just like Max. Fifty words where a few would have done it.
“Is that the pompous ass way of saying you fucked up? By the way, there’s no possibly about it. It’s definite.”
Sighing, Max shifted on his feet. “May I sit down and explain?”
Waving her hand toward the armchair, she took a seat on the couch only to find that he sat next to her, something she hadn’t been prepared for. His delicious scent blindsided her and she had to dig her fingers into the flesh of her thighs to keep a lid on her tumultuous emotions.
“You’ve got three minutes left.”
His hands rested on his knees, his palms rubbing against the material of his jeans. “I heard about you becoming the producer of the Flynn movie. I want to give you my sincere congratulations.”
They’d already had this conversation and it hadn’t gone well. “Thank you but you knew about that before, and if I remember correctly you said you weren’t sure if I would do a good job.”
That still stung. His approval shouldn’t be that important to her but it was. Still. Max was at the top of his field and she wanted his respect.
“About that… I just found out yesterday actually when I visited Nate and Paige. That day I thought you were talking about something else.”
Carrie frowned, her brows pinched together. “Something else? What did you think I was talking about?”
More silence. She didn’t prompt him as he seemed to be trying to figure out how to answer her question. It wasn’t a tough one so it shouldn’t be that hard but for some reason it was. A terrible dread began to build in her abdomen. What had he done?
“I thought–I thought that you came back to tell me that you were taking a role in Tyler’s next movie.”
That made absolutely no sense. She’d already said a big, fat no. “Why would you think that? I know Tyler wouldn’t tell you that.”
Jumping to his feet, he paced the small space between the couch and television. “Look at this from my point of view, please. You were supposed to be in Florida and then someone tells me that you’re in LA at the studio with Tyler. Think about how that looks.”
“I was in Florida,” she replied slowly, her temper beginning to simmer. “Then Paige called and asked me to come to LA. I sent you a text that my plans were changing.”
Max stopped and turned to her, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You told me you had news.”
Throwing out her arms in frustration, she nodded. “Yes, that I was made a producer of the movie. That was my news.”
“But see it from my vantage point.”
“Okay, I will. My girlfriend calls me from LA and says she has news. She comes home to tell me that news and I’m a dick. End of story.”
Max exhaled loudly, rubbing his chin. “It looked very different from where I was standing. I feared you had lied to me about your trip to the States. Plus you were seen with Tyler at the movie studio.”
She had fucking had enough. “We were getting coffee. Coffee, Max. You know, that caffeinated drink I’m addicted to? We weren’t at City Hall getting a marriage license. We weren’t caught in a sleazy motel shacked up for the weekend. I spent an hour in his company and suddenly that means I’ve abandoned my career and picked up a new one. How is this possible? What Olympian mental gymnastics did you have to do to jump to those conclusions? Because I don’t see it.” She buried her face in her hands. “And even if I did take that role…what business is it of yours? Why were such an asshole when I came home?”
His head dropped back so he was staring at the ceiling. “Alana said–”
Hell to the no.
Jumping up from her perch on the couch, Carrie couldn’t hold off her temper any longer.
“Don’t,” she said sharply, interrupting his reply. “I swear, Max, if your answer as to why you believe this was because it was something Alana told you…well…I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
The silence was deafening. She had her answer.
“You son of a bitch,” she ground out through gritted teeth. “You believed your skanky, lying, gold-digging ex-wife over me? Is that what you’re telling me?”
Carrie hadn’t thought it was possible to be angrier than she was that day but she certainly was now. She was furious at the man before her. He hadn’t thought any of this through at all.
Scraping his fingers through his hair, Max moved restlessly. “I didn’t at first. I told her she didn’t know what she was talking about. Then I called you and you were in LA much to my shock and you hadn’t told me about it.”
“Because I didn’t want to bother you at the theatre,” she flung back. “Time difference, remember? I let you call me and you’d been busy.”
“You could have sent me more of a text than you did. All you said was that your plans were changing.”
“I was at the airport, then on a plane, and then at the studio. The whole time I was exchanging texts with Nate and Paige as we prepared to present the schedule and budget to the studio brass. It was a big fucking deal and I was beside myself with nerves. I was a little busy with, you know, my career. But I did take the time to send you a text, Max. I sent a text that there had been a change of plans and would tell you all about it when you called. Which I did. So please tell me what I did wrong in this scenario?”
“It seemed so real,” he groaned. “You were in LA and then being seen with Tyler. The two days I waited for you to come back it just ate away at me.”
“How did Alana even know about the offer Tyler made me? Did you say something to her?”
He shook his head. “My former assistant is now working for her and I think Gemma got the information from Tyler’s stylist. They’re friendly.” Moving closer, he reached out for her but she stepped back, knowing if he touched her all bets were off. She’d smack the crap out of him.
Frankly, she was still pissed the hell off.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his expression earnest, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “I am so sorry, Carrie. I love you and I want us to have a second chance. Can you forgive me? Can we try again? Do you love me too?”
It was the first time he’d said the L-word. The bastard. That he’d chosen this moment to tell her made her sick to her stomach.
“Love?” The words came out choked as tears pricked the back of her eyes. It was such a waste. These months with him had done nothing but break her heart. “You don’t know what love is, Max. You don’t even trust me. How can you love me?”
Wringing his hands together, he took a step toward her but once again she backed away. She had to be strong even when there was a part of her that wanted to tell him she loved him too. That they could run away together and live their life on a deserted island, just the two of them. No paparazzi, no movie studios, no interfering exes. Just sun-soaked days on the beach.
Then she remembered that she easily sunburned and freckled.
“I do trust you, love. I made a mistake but I know better now. Can we start again? Put this all behind us.”
“And pretend it never happened?” she finished for him. “Sorry. Even if I could forgive, I can’t forget. You treated me like I was nothing. Like I was dust under your feet. No explanations or discussions. I was shuttled out of your life like a pesky fan wanting too many selfies. You were looking for an excuse to get rid of me. It was only a matter of time and you would have found another reason. It didn’t matter to you what it was or if it even made sense. You say you love me but I don’t get the feeling that you really want to be with me. I need a man who will believe in me, stand by me when the going gets tough. I want a man that loves me so much he wants to shout if from the rooftops. He’s thrilled and happy to have me in his life. He finds joy in love. I don’t see you in that role, Max.”
His anguished expression appeared real but he was one of the greatest actors on the planet, paid to mimic every emotion. It was hard to trust him when it was clear he didn’t even trust himself. That’s what this all boiled down to.
“I can do that,” he said, his tone urgent and pleading, a few silvery tears slipping down his cheeks. “I can be the man you need me to be. I love you, Carrie. More than I ever thought it possible.”
That part of her that wanted to believe was yelling in her ear and squirming under her boot. She had to grind down on it to keep it in place. Listening to it would only lead to more pain.
“I know you believe what you’re saying, but even if you trust me…can you trust yourself? That’s what this is about. Your fears. When will they rear their ugly head again? Because I can’t take this anymore and I damn well deserve better.” Sighing, she fell back onto the couch, exhaling a shaky breath. She was wrung out and exhausted. “You don’t even know what you want. Do you remember that day you made that list? The big thing was that you wanted someone who could make a Baked Alaska. That’s not a partner in life, Max, that’s a pastry chef. I just can’t take any more chances on you. I’m scared and I’ve been hurt far too much.”
Touching her cheek, Carrie was shocked to find them wet with tears. She’d thought she didn’t have any more for this man but once again she’d been surprised by how he could bring out the strongest feelings inside of her, good and bad.
“I don’t want to hurt you–”
“Then leave me in peace,” she shot back. “You say you love me? Then act like it. If you really love me you’d want me to be happy. Do I look happy, Max? Answer me that.”
Straightening, he drew in a ragged breath. “No. No, you do not.”
Standing, she walked over to the door and pulled it open. “Then please go. Let us heal and move on.”
Carrie thought he might argue but he did as she asked, pausing in the doorway.
“This isn’t over, Carrie. I’ll be back. I won’t give up on the love of my life.”
If only he’d thought of her that way before throwing her out of his home.
“There’s nothing for you here,” she said simply, her heart breaking into a million pieces as she spoke the words aloud. “We are the very definition of the word over. Please leave.”
She heard his footsteps on the front steps as she closed the door and locked it behind him. Not to keep him out but to keep herself in. It took all the strength she had not to fling it open and run after him, throwing her arms around him and telling him she loved him. Ignore all the warning signs that were blinking right in front of her.
Her back against the door, she slid to the floor and curled up into a ball, rocking back and forth as painful sobs wracked her body. Hot tears slid down her face and she could taste the salt on her lips. Nothing had ever felt like this. It was as if someone had cracked open her ribs and took a mallet to her heart.
How would she ever get over Max?