Page 64 of Moving Forward

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

MAX

I haven’t talked to Ellie in several days. It’s the longest we’ve ever gone without some form of communication, even if it’s just texting. Because I was recovering and staying with my parents at their hotel, it didn’t feel as monumental as it does now that I’m back at the Millers’. We’ve been dancing around each other—me avoiding her, her going out of her way to try to talk to me.

All I want is time to stew and feel sorry for myself. She inadvertently—maybe purposefully—ruined the one good thing that’s happened to me in a long time. Cain won’t answer my calls or texts, and I’m just left feeling . . . abandoned. My future didn’t feel so lonely because of him. And now . . . it feels empty.

But Ellie’s been in my life for too long, and we’ve been through too much, to waste a friendship over our first big fight. I don’t want it to be easy for her to get back in my good graces, but I can see where she was coming from. I mean, how wrong could she have been if Cain left me so easily?

I wobble past her and collapse into my bed, gingerly resting my head on the pillows. I will be so unbelievably happy when I’m done with this head injury. It’s only been a few days and I’m already over it.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly. “Do you feel sick?”

“Just a little nauseous.”

She sits up and grabs the flowered garbage can beside her desk. Holding it out to me, she gives me a wary smile. “Peace offering?”

“Thanks.” I clutch the garbage can to my stomach, knowing I’m more than a little nauseous. “This is just like that time we were hungover after our night of celebrating girl power.”

Ellie laughs. But it’s hesitant, and it gives me a tiny amount of satisfaction to know she’s aware I’m not just going to forget what she did. “Yeah, that was the best night of my life. There I was trying to fight off a killer headache and trying to comfort you while you cried and threw up all night. I can’t count the number of times I tackled you to keep you from calling Ethan.”

“Out of that entire night, the only thing I remember is locking you in the bathroom and calling him. I’ll never forget the way he sounded when he answered.”

Ellie squints in confusion. “You said he didn’t answer.”

“I lied. That phone call hurt so much and I wasn’t ready to talk about it. I didn’t want to tell you.”

She lies down on my bed, facing me. “What happened?”

I close my eyes, hearing the pain in Ethan’s voice all over again. I'd thought at the time it wasn’t fair for him to sound that way. He was the one who cheated, so why should he sound so agonized?

“I needed to tell him how badly he’d hurt me—as if he didn’t already realize it. I guess I thought it would hurt him more if it came directly from me—maybe he’d understand what I felt. Then I just asked him why he did it, point blank. You know what he said? He said, ‘Because I love you, Maxie.’” I bite my lip, squeezing my eyes tighter to hold back the tears. “That was the first time he ever told me he loved me.”

“I really hope you didn’t say it back,” Ellie murmurs. “Not after what he did.”

A bubble of laughter bursts from me. I open my eyes and glance at her, trying to look offended. “I did not. When we weren’t drinking that night, we were singing breakup anthems. Going from ‘I Will Survive’ to telling your cheating ex that, yes, you love him too, is practically a sin.”

“So you waited?”

“I didn’t hold out very long.”

She smiles and I loosen my grip on the trash can. All day long I’ve been worrying about having to face Ellie, which probably hasn’t been helping with the nausea and headaches. Now that we’re patching things up, I feel better.

“It reminded me of him, you know?” she blurts.

I freeze. “What?” So much for the nausea disappearing.

“It reminded me of him. Of Ethan. When Danny and I got back to the boat, Cain was holding you and you looked . . . and he started yelling at Danny and Danny started yelling at him, and all I could see was Ethan.”

My insides start to twist. I’ve been trying my best to ignore that parallel. A long time ago I stopped having normal nightmares. No spiders, snakes, clowns, or falls from great heights. No, they’re always of the night Ethan died.

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