I won’t ever have to face seeing him with another woman. If he won’t break his vows and try to start down the path of becoming a different sort of man with me, I don’t for a moment believe he’ll do it with someone else. But one day, Max might have to see me do just that. In fact, it’s what he’s been pushing me towards, despite the fact that I’m sure it’s tearing him apart.
I can’t imagine the man I make that future with wanting me to stay so close with a man I was once in love with. I can’t imagine making Max watch that future unfold, after what we shared, no matter how much he might encourage it.
I’m going to lose him, no matter what.
It sucks the breath right out of me to imagine that. But the truth is, I have no idea what life will look like when we finally get back to New York. Max might decide to go to Boston, for all I know, to put some distance between us–a thought that feels like a second punch to the gut.
He’s already in the kitchen when I come down, handing me a muffin and a banana, his already half gone. “Giana wanted an explanation for why neither of us was at breakfast,” Max says with an amused glint in his eyes. “I said you had a headache, and I was waiting on you.”
I take the food out of his hand, laughter catching in my throat. “Usually, that’s an excuse to getoutof sex, not because of it.”
My eyes meet Max’s, and I feel that flicker of tension between us again, entirely caused by acknowledging out loud what happened between us.It shouldn’t feel like this,I think with a quiet, frustrated despondence.I shouldn’t have to feel bad for saying out loud what both of us did last night.It isn’t that Max istryingto make me feel bad, either. It’s just that by treating every time this happens as a mistake, it always feels like the elephant in the room, like a dirty secret that we can’t admit to aloud.
But there’s no way around it.
“We can eat and walk,” Max says, heading to the back door. “Or eat and drive, rather. It’s nice out right now, but there’s a definite possibility that it might rain later today.”
“That would be a first since I’ve been here.” I take a bite out of the cinnamon muffin, following Max out to the Rover that’s parked in the same spot it had been last time.
“It doesn’t happen often this time of year.” Max starts the car up, glancing over at me as we pull out onto the narrow, winding road that leads through the estate to the stables. “It’s actually quite nice when it does, I think. I like thunderstorms.”
“I don’t really know if I do or not.” I frown, taking another bite of my muffin. “I never really stopped to think about it.”
“Well, maybe you’ll get a chance to decide today.” Max gives me an offhand grin, finishing the last few bites of his own muffin as we get closer to the stables.
“You have to make sure I have a calm one,” I tell him nervously as we walk in, breathing in the scent of hay and fur. “Don’t forget, I’ve never done this before.”
“Don’t worry.” Max smiles reassuringly at me. “I’m going to put you on Basil. There isn’t a quieter horse, but one who can still keep up–or at least he could when I was here last.”
I can feel fear starting to coil in the pit of my belly as Max gets the horses out of their stalls, realizing that I’m about to, very shortly, be much higher in the air than I’ve been previously, atop a capricious animal with very little concern for my personal safety. But I’m not about to chicken out now, and I focus on Max instead, watching his quick, certain movements as he puts the horses in what he calls cross-ties, brushing them down swiftly.
“Here,” he says, handing me a soft round brush. “Use this gently on Basil. Let him get used to you a little while I tack up Chime. The two of you can get to know each other.”
I’m not entirely sure I’m prepared to know the big, reddish-colored horse that stands there, eyeing me with what I’m sure is equal uncertainty. Still, my determination not to show weakness wins out. I approach Basil slowly as Max returns to his own horse, a tall, stocky silver-dappled one with a white star on his face, and gently pat his neck.
“Good boy?” I test out hesitantly, and Basil makes a low whickering noise, craning his neck to nudge at me with his nose. For some reason, the gesture relaxes me rather than scaring me more. I feel a small boost of confidence, running the soft-bristled brush over Basil’s gleaming coat as I wait on Max to come and help me with the next steps.
“Looks like the two of you are getting along,” Max says with a grin as he carries over the saddle. “Here, I’m going to get you tacked up now. You might be able to do it yourself with plenty of practice, but I don’t want to risk it today. Especially since we need to go straight out on the trail if we’re going to get a full ride in.”
“Fine with me,” I tell Max with a laugh, backing off as he begins to saddle up Basil. Horseback riding, or a man acquainted with it, had never been on my radar–but the confidence that Max moves with is a turn-on that I would never have expected. I can’t stop watching his long-fingered, broad hands expertly buckling up the saddle, and at the same time, remembering those hands moving over my body with a similar confidence despite his inexperience, the gentle way they’d touched me.
I hadn’t known it was possible to miss someone while they were still standing right next to me.
Before I know it, Max is gesturing to me to join him next to Basil, a small block in front of him. “You can use this to mount up,” he says, nodding towards the block. “I’ll be right here to help steady you. Just throw one leg over–like getting on a bike.”
“I’ve never ridden a bike,” I confess, and Max pauses, looking briefly stunned.
“You’ve never–oh, I suppose that makes sense.” He pauses again, awkwardly, and then shrugs. “Well, you know the concept of it, right?”
I’ve never felt the difference in our backgrounds as acutely as I do right then. I nod slowly, and Max smiles.
“Well, put that into action. And I’ll be right here to help you if you need it. Basil is a good boy; he won’t startle or anything like that, if you’re a little clumsy about it.”
‘Clumsy’ is a good word to describe my inelegant attempt to clamber atop Basil. It’s technically successful, in that I do end up atop the horse, my hand curled under the front of the saddle to steady myself, but I can only imagine how it looked from Max’s vantage point.
“Well, you’re up there, and that’s what matters,” he says with a smirk, and I glare at him.
“This was your idea.”