Part II

Wonder how to handle my resume? I should call Dino and ask him; something tells me, he'd have good advice.

But, no, I can't do that. He's already way out of favor with Max ever since I told Max that it'd been Dino who'd advised me to keep my old apartment just in case what happened were to happen. And I don't think that'd be fair to Dino if he were caught giving aid and succor to the enemy. Meaning me, of course.

I should call Max. I could ask him. I tell you, Max has proven to be excellent counsel to me in so many matters. He's the one who said I shouldn't take my boss' shit anymore He's the one who said I should remind my pointy haired boss that I had done a good job and had never been a problem and had really done good work and had been a team player and all that kind of crap.

The phone's in my hand and ...

Why am I torturing myself by forgetting that I'm no longer in Max's life and therefore can't use him as a sounding board?

Still, I'm punching in numbers and it's only when I hit the last one that I realize ... I've called my old boss instead. Not my last boss from the utility where I got laid off.

No, this is my old editor at the newspaper I used to work at before I took the job with the utility. When he answers the phone, I hear that distinctive accent, the one that lets me pinpoint the exact neighborhood in New Orleans where he was raised. Irish Channel. It sounds almost like he's from Brooklyn but he's born and bred New Orleans Irish Channel. Of course, the Channel's changed a lot, a heck of a lot, since Sean was a boy.

"I need to use you as a reference again," I tell him after we talk about the weather and how it's bliss in my hometown right now.

"You finally leaving that crappy job? You were always too good for it. Still can't believe you took some lousy technical writing job when ..."

"There wasn't anything else here, Sean. I told you that."

"But now there is? Good for you. Yeah, sure, I'm glad to be a reference. Have 'em call me. Tell me what I need to say to help you get it."

"Well ..." I look around my apartment, at Buck who's sleeping on the floor but his ears are perked so I know he's half-awake. "Well, actually, I haven't applied for anything yet. But I will be. Course, it may be flipping burgers at McDonald's ..."

"What happened?" Guess he heard it in my voice ... the emptiness. I worked for him for five years. He knows me. "You quit?"

"You son of a bitch. Don't you dare say anything like that about him."

"What? All I am pointing out to you is that he's a big brute. He thinks he can throw his weight around and ... he reflects badly on you, Ann. Very badly. I would be very justified to fire you, telling your boyfriend I've mistreated you. But he probably is worse to you, isn't he? I bet he is the reason you've been so sullen these last few days. He's bad news, I could tell that right off ... He came down here and threatened me. I could have called the police, had him arrested. But I didn't. Do you know why?"

"Because you're a coward."

"I'm going to overlook that because I can tell that you're upset. But the answer is, I didn't call the police because I felt sorry for you to be involved with him. Does he beat often?"

"What?"

"A man like that ... you know?"

"You son of a bitch. A man like that? Like Max, you mean? You ass ... you aren't worthy of even cleaning his shoes. Max is the finest person I've ever known. He is honorable and trustworthy and when he cares about you, he does for you, even when he has to sacrifice. He is smart and clever and ... and ... and you are nothing. Nothing. He threatened you? You're lucky he didn't beat the crap out of you for what you've put me through."

"I will give you one chance to apologize. And if you don't, well, I believe you understand."

"I quit."

"What?"

"I quit. I have let you fuck me over since the day I got here. You could have gone on doing whatever you wanted to me. But I will not work for any person who says anything ... anything ... bad about Max. So I fucking quit. And you can go to hell."

"You need to calm down. I won't accept your resignation anyway."

"You have got to be kidding me. You think you can keep me from quitting? You really are a megalomaniac."

"If you quit, I can assure you, you will not find another job in this town. I will make sure of that. Personally."

"Yeah. I quit. Yesterday."

"Why? Realized how wrong was for you?" Sean asks. I can picture him leaning back in his chair.

"My boss crossed the line." I can't tell him the truth - that I'd been okay with all his abuse of me but he says one word about Max ... and I quit? Yeah. That would go over real well with someone I need to use as a reference. "So you see, I know I can't give him as a job reference. And my boss at the utility was laid off the same time I was, so any reference they get from there will be perfunctory. But you ... if you wouldn't mind? You could say some nice things about me ... and you say it so convincingly like you really believe them."

We both chuckle.

"Wish you would re-consider moving back here. I have a position that's coming open in two weeks that could use someone I trust like you."

My mind whirls into motion. He has a job open? "Sean, you serious?"

I hear his voice drop. He is serious. My heart starts beating fast. "Yeah, I just found out that I got to fill the night desk assistant editor position. You'd be perfect."

"I would be."

"Yeah. But ... you said ..."

"Everything changes. I'd move back for that. I would."

"You'd still have to go through the interviews with the big guys. When can you be here?"

Buck sits up and looks at me. I bet he's heard a change in my voice. I smile for the first time in days. My mind's racing ... I have to show that I want this job so I need to do this right away. I don't want to blow everything I have in the bank on a plane ticket ... but if I just drop everything to get ready then ... Man, do I need this job. "I want to drive in. So ... say, day after tomorrow. Is that soon enough?"

Along St. Charles Avenue, traffic was light that hour. It was just after 10 a.m. I had missed the oak trees. I had missed the streetcars. I had missed so much about New Orleans.

"Look, Buck. That's Audubon Park. Remember me telling you about ..."

Shit.

I pulled over to at the next parking spot. My hands were shaking on the wheel. It hadn't been Buck I'd once told all about this park.

Buck was sitting in the passenger seat, looking out. Then back at me. Not sure what I was up to. I got his leash.

The sun was out. It was warm. I felt like I needed a jolt of something before I drove another mile. Maybe I just needed to plant my feet back in some aspect of this place to remember the good times.

We crossed the wide expanse of grass heading for the lagoon. I turned back toward the avenue as another streetcar rumbled past, clacking on the tracks. "That's Loyola," I said to Buck, indicating with my head at the big, old, graceful university buildings across the avenue from us. "Great chapel. No one really knows unless they're from Uptown or the Garden District. Beautiful place for a church wedding ... or a funeral ..."

Shit.

I walked away. We went the opposite way of most people on the jogging trail that meandered around the lagoon at the center of this part of the park. Well, I say a lagoon. I don't know that it really is, though. That's what my father used to call it. I don't think it could be considered a bayou because it didn't really connect with any other waterway that I knew of. But I wasn't sure.

"See the island?" I said to Buck as we walked into the muddy strip of the bank. "When I was a kid, at least once a summer, we'd dare each other to go over there. My best friend's big brother told us it was haunted. I used to jump in the water, swim over and explore. It was such fun. It was so forbidden."

No way I'd do that now. Now I was an adult. I knew the water's danger. I knew all about the bad things that could be out there waiting on you. I knew all about being cautious and not taking the chance of getting hurt by going off someplace you weren't really sure of already.

We walked a little further. I could have walked forever but I had to look out for Buck, after all. When his tongue started hanging out a bit, I stopped and got him some water at the fountain. I held him up and let him lap it from where it ran and pooled into my open palm.

I didn't even need the leash I had on him because Buck was sticking to me like white on rice. I walked over to this small gazebo along the bank and sat down in the shade upon one of the benches. Buck sat right at my heel. He watched me intently.

Damn. My dog was worried about me. I smiled down at him, told him I was fine.

Dogs aren't fooled by words. They listen to tone. He just sat there, refusing to not be vigilant. Like it was again his total responsibility to watch over me, protect me.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," I whispered to him. "How can I be here in the sun and feeling this miserable? I just don't know, you know?"

He cocked his head at me.

"You know she thinks I'm going to be there any minute. And I don't want to go. But I don't know where else to go anymore," I told him. "Crap. How many times have I told you that today? I can't even have a nervous breakdown without being a fucking idiot."

In my mind's eye, I saw myself driving down the street where I was raised. I parked in our driveway. I walked inside the house. My mom was probably in the kitchen.

It made me groan when in the next instant, I thought of all I'd lost in the last few days. All the way to my toes. My head hurt so bad. My insides were aching like I might rip into a million pieces. No one would be able to put me back together.

On the way back to the car, I hit a button on my cell because I was so weak and he answered on the second ring. I fell to my knees when I heard his voice was devoid of any feeling for me. There I was, on my knees in the damp green grass of Audubon Park, facing St. Charles Avenue, my dog on a leash pressing in against me and whining because he just wanted to help but didn't know how except to let me know he was there for me. But the person I needed was too far away, both in spirit and in miles.

I'm not going to make it without him.

"I've ruined everything."

"Nothing is ruined. Come home."

"I am home."

"Your home is with me."

"We went too fast. We shouldn't have gone so fast."

He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. He didn't agree with me. He also wasn't the kind of man who'd ever come after me. He just wouldn't. He despised me for this, I just knew it. That I'd walked out on him? He was already writing me off as unfit, weak.

"I'm always going to love you. I'm never going to get over this."

That was the last thing I told him.

He never even tried to call me back and I don't blame him. There's nothing more pitiful than me at my lowest.

My mom was on the front porch when Buck and I drove up. She'd been gardening, I could tell. She was drinking an ice tea and rocking in one of the whitewashed chairs that I remember her getting when I was in college to replace the rattan furniture that had seen a lot better days. When I got on the porch, I realized that the rockers weren't looking so hot anymore either.

We ate lunch on the back deck so I could soak up the sun that filtered through the oak back there. I listened to her tell me all about the various plants in the yard and what she was doing to nurture them.

"How are you, Mom?" I finally asked her in a pause.

"I'm glad you're moving back home. You know that you can stay here while you get settled."

"Well, I have to get the job first, Mom."

"You'll get it. They wouldn't have brought you all this way if they weren't intending to give it to you."

I didn't respond because my mom has not worked outside the home except the two years between secretarial school and getting married so she doesn't really understand that getting an interview isn't the same as getting a job. And the paper didn't exactly bring me down here, did they? I'd come running at the first chance to get my career back.

"Your dog is quite smart, isn't he?" my mom asked as Buck investigated the back yard.

"He's a great companion for me."

"He's no substitute for a husband and family."

"Yeah, I was actually aware of that, Mom. But as I'm not in the market for either and I was in the market for a dog, it seemed the logical thing to me was to get a dog."

"I never have liked your smart tongue, Ann."

"So you say, Mom."

"Are you going to settle down now? Is that why you're moving back? You're not getting any younger, you know."

I sighed. "I like my life, Mom. I'm just here because I need a job and I'd like the one at the paper."

"You like your life?" she asked. I nodded at her. "You certainly look like someone who likes her life."

"Mom. Don't start."

"You look haggard. You better wear pretty lipstick tomorrow and a bit of blush or those men will never hire you."

"Jesus, Mom. If I get hired, it's not because I wear the perfect shade of pink lipstick. It's because I am good enough to earn the job for my skills."

"It never hurts to make a good impression. Especially with men."

"Oh, Mom. I can't talk about this."

I hate that I have a mother who is the anti-thesis of the feminist ideals that she herself is responsible for incubating within me. I can remember when I was in high school that it was my mother who stood up for me when I refused to accept that I couldn't be anything I wanted, no matter what others may have thought was proper for a girl. She's the one who told me to never compromise on my ideals and to never let men tell me what I could do or be.

But maybe ideals are something only for the young. I don't know. Or maybe she just wanted me to be practical. Or maybe she thought in rejecting restrictions, I ended up rejecting her ... like maybe I was saying that her life as a mother and housewife had been wasted when all I really was saying was that I wanted options, and that had never been inviting to me. Not when you consider what her life as a housewife was like with my father as her husband.

I started clearing the table. On the last trip in, I squeezed her hand and told her how I always loved coming home now that it was just her here because she made it feel like a loving place. I think that was the right thing to say.

By the time the interview was over the next day, I was positive they'd offer me the job. But this was a pretty bureaucratic place so first, all the details needed to be done right. They had others to interview, they had checks to make on background. They already knew the worst of my background and since that hadn't stopped them from hiring me before, I didn't think it'd be a problem this time.

After the interview, I drove to my mom's house the long way. I went downtown and drove around the warehouse district. I was already thinking about where I'd live if I got the job. Then I got to thinking how I couldn't afford any of these places anyway, so I drove over to the Quarter and dropped in at a friend's bar there. He wanted to call a bunch of people and have a party that night so everyone could see me. But I told him that I was planning on being on the road by then.

It had occurred to me when I'd realized I'd begun thinking of where I'd live when I moved ... it had been like hitting a brick wall. I was about to make one of the biggest changes in my life ... and I wasn't sure if I wasn't closing a door that had been left slightly ajar. Shouldn't I see if the door was locked first?

It took me about twelve hours to drive back the way I'd come. Leaving my mom's house in New Orleans in the late evening, I'd driven straight through with just rest stops for Buck and me. I was nearing home ... well, what is turning out to have been my temporary home, as it turns out ... when I got to musing how I had kind of thought I might stay there forever. But, what the hell.

So I had twelve hours of just time to think ... about me, about my life, about how I wanted my future to be. About the options I'd said I'd wanted and how I'd actually restricted my options from a young age. About how my views on some of those options were skewed by what I'd seen my mother live through. About how I was old enough to not fear re-evaluating my options.

Honestly, I had a lot of options. But I needed a bit more information on a few of them before making any more decisions. If they offered me the job, which Sean thought they would, I would need to know how to choose and I would need to know right away. I guess it was in mentally going through seeing myself accepting the job, packing up, leaving, moving back to New Orleans ... that when I went through every step I'd need to take to do that, it dawned on me that I needed more information on few things.

So deep into deciding how I'd resolve this issue of getting that information, I ended up driving by rote the last few miles back to the city I'd first gone to in order to take a fantastic job at the utility. It had been a pretty good home to me, all things considered.

And then I ended up parking not at my apartment, but in Max's lot before I even realized where I was. But there was something about that, you know.

His car wasn't in the space where he parked it. I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't think about giving up because I just needed to know some things. So I dialed his cell phone. When he answered, I knew something so true about my own heart. I felt some odd element of peace settle over me. Maybe it was that I saw my options much more clearly than I ever had before. I felt re-charged somehow, mobilized and energetic.

"I'm at your place. I wanted to see you. Where are you?" I asked him. I knew he'd seen my number on his cell and he'd answered anyway. That made me feel ... so good.

"Out of town. Business."

I held my breath a moment before asking, "On a case?"

"Trade show. I conducted a training seminar today. And I am ... part of my company's contingent here."

"What city?"

He made a very soft sigh of annoyance but he told me anyway. "Las Vegas."

"Okay. Well, I'm flying in. Tonight. I need to ... to see you. Tell me what hotel you're at so I can find you."

"Wait until I am home. We can talk then. This is work. It is not a good time."

"I'm coming there, Max. What I have to tell you, I'm not saying over the phone. And I'm not waiting to tell you. You don't have a choice this time."

So he told me his hotel. And he said that he would probably not be there because there were meetings and dinners and the trade show ... and I just said, I will find you when I get in.

I dropped Buck off with Johnny on the way to the airport. I took the red eye to Vegas. I was so tired. But time was an element here and I was not going to not be there with him and I had things to say and discuss. And ask. So much I needed to know.

When I walked off the plane, he was waiting there. I saw him the moment I came off. He was standing next to one of the airport security officers. I just knew that he'd used his credentials to be there, to see me the moment I came off the plane ... to make sure I knew he was there.

It touched me so deeply. It's just so typical of him and the way he loves me. He might be angry with me, he might never want to live with me again, he may wish I'd never come into his life ... but he still felt responsible for me and he still wanted me to be safe.

His face was impassive but I thought maybe I detected a glimmer there of him being glad to see me. I would have given a lot of my self respect to just run to him and feel him hold me and ... but instead, I just stood there with my mouth half open, looking like a fish on a hook. He came to me. Took my bag; gave me this soft buss on my cheek; whispered that he was glad to see me.

I let him lead me out of there and put me in the back of a taxi. Off we rode, in silence broken only once when he asked me if the flight was good and I said it was just a bit bumpy. He was staying at one of the casino hotels, one of those big ones that make you feel impossibly small when you drive up and it is like daytime no matter when you're inside there. I paused by the front registration desk and said something about not wanting to impose on him so maybe I should go ahead and get my own room. But he pursed his lips, put his hand on my elbow and led me to the elevators.

Inside his suite, I looked at his table where he had his laptop and files and ... and I pictured him here, working with a lamp overhead into the night ... and I wondered if he let himself worry about where I was and what I was doing and what was to become of us.

When he came back out of the bedroom, after putting my bag in there, he offered me a drink. It couldn't have been more obvious; he was keeping his distance. In light of our last scene together, I suppose it was either this barricade of adult cool between us or we'd maybe not know what to do to find ourselves together and not knowing what the other was feeling. It was the least I could do for him to accept that without making it an issue.

And typical of me, I just kind of launched in with why I was there. He was opening a bottle of wine and I said, "There are things I need to talk over with you, Max. Well, I just value your input and I feel like you want the best for me ... and well ..."

"Well?" he said as he poured red wine into two glasses. When I didn't say anything, he looked over at me. Where to even start? How to say it?

"I've really made a mess of my life. And I have some decisions to make. And I realize that I've made this a big mess because ... But I am not sure about anything anymore and I just don't have anyone I'd trust to help me decide but you."

"What mess have you made?" he said, handing me a glass and then just standing there before me, taking a sip from his glass.

I stared into the wine glass in my hand. "Well, first off, I've broken it off with the only man I ever loved enough to ... enough to realize that I may not make it very well without him. But I have to, and I don't want you to feel badly about that. That's not why I say that. And then ... I quit my job and ..."

"Hold. You quit your job? When?"

"A few days ago. The morning after ... after we ..." I heard this whimper come from me and I swallowed hard in case another one was getting ready to come out. "The morning after I moved back to my place."

"I spoke with you that evening. You never told me."

"I was drunk when you called."

I looked at him and his lips were tight. He had called me that night, still angry with me. And I was far too proud to tell him that I'd quit and was about to be destitute. But I wasn't so proud that I didn't blubber drunkenly out to him that I just couldn't believe we hadn't been able to live together because I had just thought it would work because we loved each other so much. I said I realized that our mistake had been in moving too fast. That living together had been too major to do that quick. He had just said he had his own opinions on that.

"Anyway, I quit."

"Why did you quit?"

"It's not important. Just leave it that my boss crossed the line and I quit. On principle."

"On principle?" he said, a little smile now relaxing his mouth.

"Yeah and, of course, principle doesn't pay the bills, eh? And therein lies my real dilemma. I don't have any money to pay rent past next month. And I think it's going to take me a lot longer than that to find a job there and even if I do, it'll likely be another crappy job."

"I can give you whatever you need. I would never abandon you, Anna. Surely you knew that?"

"Just as much you know I wouldn't ask for help. From anyone. My pride, remember? You never did like it."

He reached a hand out and just cupped my cheek. "That is not true. I love you. Your pride, even when it may interfere with what I wish for you to do, is something you should value. As long as you do not let it grow so large that it interferes with what you would really wish for yourself."

I blinked hard. I didn't want to get all emotional but, of course, being here with him and realizing that this could be the very last time in my life that I'd ever get the benefit of his counsel and his belief in me ... it about killed me and I thought I'd already died. Except ... he had said he loved me. Was that habit? Or did he really? I'd come all this way ... surely I wouldn't lose my nerve now?

"Well, the long and short of it is that ... you and I haven't really officially told each other that ... that ... well, I don't know where we stand. And I don't want to put pressure on you. I don't. And I don't want you to make some grand gesture because you think I'm about to go under financially ... Oh. I don't know. I can't even really think anymore. I'm so lost ... and I didn't want to tell you that because I don't know what to do anymore and I know I have to take care of myself but now I've gone and quit my job and if I don't find another one right away, then Buck and I will be out on the street because I just have no money ... I went through all my saving when I was laid off and couldn't find a job for so long and I would have gone bankrupt except I was able to sell my condo and pay off the mortgage but I just don't have savings to tide me over this time ... and ... um ..."

God. I was fucking this up. I groaned and threw my hand up in exasperation.

"I will help. You know I will. What do you need?"

"I need a job. And I've found one."

He gave this irritated huff. "Then? What is the problem? We should be discussing other matters, Anna. Not your new job. We should ... what had happened between us was nothing more than a fight, a disagreement ... you sound as though you feel ... What did you see it as?"

"As the end of my world, Max." It came out as this shocked whisper. Didn't he know how it was to realize we weren't going to make it?

"No."

"Yes." I looked back in my wine. Shook my head. "Look, I'm doing this badly, as always. I hate trying your patience. But I need you to know ... I have a great job offer but I have to move to New Orleans to take it. I came here because I thought you should know that. But I came for another reason, too."

"You would ... you would move away?"

"Not if you ask me to stay."

"Stay."

We just stared at each other. The door really was still open a bit. But I was still scared because ... where did I stand in this life if I passed up this job offer and Max and I failed? I turned and walked over to the big sliding glass door that looked out on the neon of Vegas.

"You know what the real issue is between us. I'm not into the whole marriage thing and you think you will convince me otherwise and ... And we can't live together so how can we get married?"

He touched me. The first real touch in so long. His hand slid around my waist and he came in close behind me. His voice was soft. "Anna, stay and try with me again. These are the normal struggles of any couple. We said harsh words we did not really mean. I have already made plans to deal with the main problem."

"The main problem?" I turned to look at him, unsure.

"Yes. I need to provide a home for you that's of the size and permanence you deserve. I should have done that straight away, but I was too intent on having you with me. Forgive me? I have found a home for us ... with room and amenities and a yard for Buck to play in."

"Max ... you think the only problem was that the apartment was too small?"

"No, but the other problems are ones that were magnified by that."

I smiled at him and shook my head. "You are unbelievable. I thought we were through. And I was coming here to tell you that I wouldn't let it happen, that I was going to insist ..."

He was still there. He loves me. I don't know what to do anymore.

"Is it midnight yet?" I asked him.

He looked at his watch and said it was just past that.

"Here's why I came, Max. I want this job in New Orleans and I won't lie to you about that. But I want you more. You are first to me and I am not going to make it in this life without you. Everything else is details. But I didn't know how you felt about us. I came here because I refuse to let you go without even trying to get you back. And I came here to give you this."

I pulled a small box from my jacket pocket. When he hesitated to take it from me, I shoved it in his hand, took the wine glass from his other hand and ordered him to open the box. Inside, nestled on a bed of tufted velvet was a silver cuff.

"Omnia vincit amor," he said as his fingers traced over the letters engraved on the cuff.

"Love conquers all." I slipped it from his hand and then I pried it over his wrist. 

"I recognize the phrase."

"I got this a while ago. In honor of the lesson I felt you'd help me learn. I got it to give to you today. Even though things have changed, I think maybe it has even more meaning now. I just had to get here in time to give it to you on this date, because I wanted to be with you today. Happy birthday," I said softly as I leaned into him and gave him a soft, chaste kiss on his lips.

He blinked at me and then just fingered the cuff at his wrist. When he looked at me, when I could see that he was honestly moved and was opening back up to me, I made my boldest move to prove I loved him and always would. I wanted to give him that as the ultimate gift on this special day for him.

"Marry me, Max. Right now. Right here. We're in Vegas. Let's just do it, Max. Right now...before I lose my nerve."

He could hear the pleading in my voice. His eyes flashed. 

"I can't lose you, Max."

He frowned, tilted his head. I wasn't sure ... he seemed ... not happy to have me finally where I thought he wanted me. He seemed ... suspicious. "Why? Why this?"

"Because it's what's important to you. And so, I want to give you what you want." I put my hands on his face and made him really look in my eyes. "I have thought so much about the birthday gift you gave me. The one I so cruelly threw back in your face. I know that at one level, it was simply a lovely gift with huge sentiment that was meant for me to feel loved. And I did. I do. But there was a subtext, wasn't there?"

"It was a token of my love ... of my desires to always love you."

"Max, Uma told me the meanings the stones hold for you ... and that giving it to me to wear as a talisman, well, could be interpreted as you trying to use those stones to will me into agreeing to marriage. Obviously, that really freaked me out but it was because I didn't have the guts to just say what I should have ... to just discuss how we'd make a future together ... to admit that I didn't want to get married and..."

"But you have just asked me to marry you ..."

"Yeah. I have. I got to thinking about the fact you had felt the need to give me a gift that you withheld such sweet sentiment behind it from me? I mean, what woman would not have loved you all the more that you wanted to marry her? That you wanted to charm the marriage, so to speak? I am a fool. I know that. But so do you and you still love me."

"I wouldn't force you ... I merely seek to ..." He shook his head, like he just wasn't sure what I meant.

"To convince me?" I smiled at him. "I love that you are aware of me so well that you knew asking me outright, right now, that it would never work. But I hate that I've ... that I've made this so hard on you."

"I love you. It was not hard to wait. I wanted you to wish this with the same fervor I do. I hoped to learn, eventually, what it would take to do that. I wanted to understand ... I am convinced that you are the woman I will be with forever. Why would I give up on you?"

"Here's the thing. I never wanted to get married ... I still don't ... I don't want to feel owned ... but you make me think that I may someday change my mind about that because so much of my thinking about love is changing thanks to what you and I are finding together. But by the time I change my mind, what if it's too late? What if you walk away before then? When I thought about that, I realized I'd be making such a big mistake if I didn't trust you like I know I do."

"This is all highly confusing to me."

"I know. I was angry. But I was also scared. I was fucking up the living with you part and I could see that you wanted more and if I kept failing ... I guess I thought I could walk away but I couldn't. I won't. And your birthday was coming up and I thought ... what can I give him?"

"I don't need gifts."

"I thought about your gift to me ... about what it was saying. About how your gift reflected your desire that I see myself as you see me ... as the woman you want to build a life with. What could I give you to show you that when I look at you, Max, I see the one man who I love so much that I am able to see that I want to be that woman for you? And that's when it dawned on me ... what I could give you."

"Yourself. In marriage?"

"Yes. I can't lose you, Max. I'd do anything to keep you, you see? Even this."

"Even humbling yourself to marry me, you mean."

"That's not what I mean."

"No." He raised an eyebrow at me. Took a step back.

"No?"

His voice came out cold, clipped. "To your ... generous ... offer of marriage, my answer is 'no.'"

"What ...?" I didn't understand. No? No! What? "You don't want to marry me? All this stuff you've been doing ... I thought this was you wanted!"

"I wanted to marry you." He turned away, walked over to the bar. Poured himself more wine.

When I finally cleared my head enough to really hear his tone of voice, I swallowed down how it felt to be rejected ... to have put myself out there only to be cast off. "Past tense ... I see. You wanted to but not anymore. So you've been lying to me tonight? You said you didn't take what happened as anything but a fight but that isn't true, I suppose."

He turned and regarded me. For the first time since the beginning, his view of me was visibly cold. His voice was mocking as he said, "When did I ever cross any line with you, Ann? You come here, acting as if you have been so abused because I loved you enough to wish for an eternity with you. Poor Ann. How awful to have been loved in such a way."

"I never said that."

"You did. Tonight. But on so many other occasions as well just by your actions. You seem to believe that I am asking you to take on an onerous position as my wife. Some women, even women I have known, would have considered it an honor. But not you."

"Max ... that's not true. It's just ..."

"It is just that I am intent on only depriving you of freedom. I am only wishing to make you a slave. I am only wishing to bend you to my will. Am I really held in such low esteem by you?"

I just looked at him and thought about all my objections, all the ways I'd been tactless and unfeeling of his pride and his genuine feelings for me. What a fool I am always and ever.

"I never once loved you, is that what you feel?" he asked me, now advancing on me, anger in his tone. "I never once loved you enough to make you the center of my world? I never once loved you enough to tread carefully ... to take my time ... to not ask before you were ready to hear me in fairness and in love? Have I truly been such a monster?"

"No. Never." I felt shamed before him.

"Yet you come here and the only reason you wish to marry me is because you believe I am incapable of remaining true to you unless you bow down to my desires? And you are here to tell me of this great and noble sacrifice you will make to give me what I want?"

"I'm sorry ..."

"Why would I want it on those terms? I have no need of that! If I were to ever marry again, Ann, you can be sure it will be to a woman who wants to marry me. Not a woman who feels that I am not worthy to be her partner in life. That I am ... making her life difficult because I love her."

I looked down at my feet. He'd spoken so measured and yet I heard his shattered pride and his pain ... Who was I to give him this pain? I was nothing. What I'd done ... I felt my words, the words I'd given him, and they were so bitter upon the second taste.

He deserved more. He deserved better. Hadn't I known not to want too much lest the day come I am to realize how unworthy of it I remain?

"You're right, of course." The words were small. I cleared my throat. I couldn't look at anything but the carpet. It was blue with flecks of maroon and sea green and yellow and dark brown. "I've treated you horribly and all you ever did was love me better than I ever have been."

The world was closing in. I fought tears because he deserved me to be more composed. Tears would have been cheap. He deserved me to be castigated and flayed by his words. He deserved to be landing the mortal blow on me. I would not deprive him of the full measure of his revenge.

"I'm glad you told me, Max. It's a bitter lesson but it's one I needed." I looked up at him. He was looking off toward the skyline. I could only see his proud profile. "I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry that I have."

I waited to see if he'd say something. But he didn't ... he wasn't going to. I knew he wanted me gone from his sight, gone from his life. What I'd done that night ... I'd destroyed us. And to think how foolishly I'd thought that I was about to ensure we'd always be together.

My suitcase was on the bed. I picked it up and it felt so much heavier. It was hard to breathe. I wouldn't break down in front of him. I wouldn't do that to him. He was such a tender man to me; there was a part of him that would have despised himself for breaking me. But that's what I was ... broken. Not that it was his fault. No. He was right; this was on me.

My hand was on the handle of the door to leave the suite. I looked at him, still standing rigid before the big glass door. His back to me. Even if he was rejecting me, I knew he was hurting if for no other reason than that I'd turned out to be a mistake for him.

"It occurs to me that moving to New Orleans is the right thing for me and I'm pretty sure I'll get the job anyway. My mom will always know how to reach me ... so if you ever have need of a friend, call on me. I wish you only the best, Max."

He finally turned to look at me. So many things in his eyes. I remembered when there was a time when I was privileged to read him. "You don't have to leave tonight. I can sleep on the couch ..."

"No, of course not. But I don't think this is right, to stay here, now. I'll grab a taxi for the airport and get the next flight back."

"Let me ..."

"No! Don't be silly. I won't have any problems. It's better to part here, anyway." I felt like a zombie ... going through these polite fakeries just to find a way to end this with dignity. Every word, every moment of not breaking down before him cost precious drops of life's blood for me. I paid it willingly. My pride ... it wouldn't let me do this any other way. "I wish you only the best, Max. You're the finest man I've ever known. And ... And whatever woman earns your love, she's going to be the most fortunate woman. I know I was. I'm always going to remember that."

It's so odd to me that I slept the whole way back from Vegas. Of course, by the time the plane took off, I hadn't slept in two days. I didn't wake up until the plane bounced onto the runway and ... well, I don't know. I haven't really felt like I've been doing much more than sleepwalking since.

I went straight home from the airport; didn't stop to get Buck because I was too embarrassed to face anyone, especially Johnny who has always been nice to me. Sometime late that afternoon, Sean called to officially offer me the job in New Orleans.

It only took me a week to pack up, drive home and start my new job. Nothing was stopping me now.

It's ironic to me, this whole thing, in a very odd sort of "me" way. When I got laid off at the utility, Sean had tried to convince me to move back and he'd find me a job. But I had refused to go home in defeat. I am just too proud that way. So I had turned him down and finally found the technical writing job.

If I had left when I first got laid off and not been so prideful, I would never have met Max. And now here I am, back in the city of my birth ... returning feeling victorious in regaining my career and mortally wounded at losing my heart.

But I wouldn't trade a moment of it. Not one single moment of Maximus. He changed my life. I'm a better person for having known him. I'm a better woman for having loved him.