Page 94 of Worlds Collide

I force myself to focus fully on work after that. No more pictures of Wolf, no more googling pictures of him walking down the busy streets of New York with a stunning woman who’s apparently some hot-shot producer and is rumored to have been romantically linked to him years ago.

Anger starts to fester inside me then. Because I shouldn’t haveto go through this. I didn’t do anything wrong but set my sights on Wolf and then go after him time and time again.

I promise myself that I’ll forget all about him, and try to contain all of my emotions in a locked box inside my heart.

I block it all out so efficiently that when my birthday arrives, and so does a big box, it’s a bit startling.

A package from New York. And since I’m seeing Adam in a few days in Las Vegas so we can hang out with all the Darnells, I know it’s not from him.

I open it to find a small, black leather box on top of white paper. I reach for it way too slowly—I don’t know why but I’m half-expecting something to jump up at me from the bottom of the box.

Nothing happens though, so I open the small box only to stare at it for way too long, not knowing what it means. When it hits me though, I can’t help but let out a huge laugh. It’s a pair of cufflinks in the shape of the letters LRB—little rich boy.

I can’t deny that I actually love them, and when I move the tissue paper aside, I find embroidered sweaters, a couple of shirts, and even a handkerchief, all with LRB on them. Though it’s silly, I note that they’re from brands I told Wolf I liked when we were in Italy. It’s an awesome gift, and I somehow find it in myself to miss him even more.

I swallow back the emotion and look at the bottom of the box to see a picture frame covered by a Post-It. I take it out and choke back a sob when I read his note.

It’s been eight months since I moved.

Six since I saw you.

And it feels like a million since I felt your lips on mine.

But it’s been barely a second since I thought of you.

Still missing you, still wanting you, still working on myself for us.

Happy birthday, little rich boy.

We’ll celebrate in style next year for the big three-oh.

— Max

I trace his signature for a moment while I compose myself. It’s stupid. I could let myself cry and just... feel it all. I’m alone in the apartment after all. But Ican’t. I don’t know if I could stop if I allow myself to start. So I breathe deep, in through my nose, out through the mouth, a couple of times. He’s a damn good writer, I have to give him that.

Once I’m sure I can take whatever the picture shows me, I pull the note back andmelt.

Wolf is smiling—wider than I’ve ever seen him—and holding the cutest, black German Shepherd puppy close to his face.

The back of the note catches my eye and I see there’s more.

Max Jr. also wishes you a happy birthday and can’t wait to meet you.

“Dear God,” I call out to the empty room. My voice is watery because if I needed any proof of Wolf’s commitment to me, this is more than I needed. He got a dog and named him after the nickname I gave him... That’s just too much for my fragile heart.

I worry myself all day by drafting a text for him, and in the end settle for the best I can come up with.

CJ

Thank you so much for my gifts.

Max Jr. is the cutest dog in the world and I can’t wait to meet him too.

Stay safe, Max.

He doesn’t answer for a while, and I worry again that maybe I should’ve kept the unspoken no-texting, no-talking rule, but eventually he does text back.

Wolf

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