Page 53 of Waiting for Sunshine

“You guys ready for the Rush?” she asks, nodding to the door.

I look over and smile at her, before cutting my gaze over to Max, whose expression hasn’t softened. Not even a little bit.

When he walks back to the kitchen during a lull, I make it a point to follow him.

“Max.” I call after him.

“Yeah?” His demeanor is still hard from earlier, but I’m hoping to help change that if I can. I stop right in front of him, and run my hand down his arm.

“Look, I don’t want you to think I was being insensitive about what this weekend is. I remember the date from her headstone.” I say softly, catching his attention. His deep blue eyes finally find mine. “I figured you’d want to be alone that day. I just thought, maybe after you were alone you might want to be… I don’t know, with me maybe? Just to just get your mind off of it. I didn’t mean to upset you.” I explain. He takes a deep breath and pulls me into his arms.

“I know you didn’t Sunshine, I just don’t know if I can.” He kisses me on the top of my head. “I hope you understand.” He looks at me with confliction, his jaw ticking away. I shake my head and he walks out the back door. To where, I have no idea? But I make my way back up to the front where I spot Ruby.

“Hey Ruby, you think the boys can handle the bar on Friday night?” I give her a mischievous grin.

“Actually, the bar is closed the whole weekend, but what do you have in mind?” she narrows her gaze.

“Well, me and my girlfriends are going to the black hearts party. You wanna join?”

“Hell yeah, I’m down. Let me make sure I can get a sitter for Hendrix and I’ll let you know.” She says squeezing my arm before grabbing some empty glasses from the bar top.

* * *

THURSDAY - FEBRUARY 13TH

Since the bar is closed this whole weekend, I decided to come paint tonight once I left the art center. I love teaching art there, but there’s nothing like having a brush in my own hand, working on pieces that are close to my heart. Max has been heavy on my mind all day today, though I haven’t heard from him once. I want to be there for him during his time of grief, but he’s made it pretty clear that he’d rather be alone. It’s taking everything in me to respect that and not drive to his house to be with him. It’s eerily quiet here tonight, but I don’t mind the silence. I always let myself get lost in my thoughts, and let my inspirations run rampant in my mind.

I am starting to get hungry and making my way down the stairs to the kitchen, when I hear a loud crash. My mind instantly flashes back to the night the bar almost got robbed. I shakily pull my phone out and out of pure instinct and start calling Max. I am not even sure he’ll answer, but I know him well enough that he’d want me to call in this situation. When I hear a phone ringing outside the door, I start to wonder if it was Max I heard down there to begin with.

“Shane, where you at?” Max calls out. Though he doesn’t sound like his usual self. I walk through the door that leads from the stairs to Max’s office and see Riley curled up on the couch.

“Hey girl,” I whisper and her tail begins to wag. “Max?” I call, walking out of his office and into the bar. I see Max behind the bar pouring himself a whiskey.

“There you are.” He drunkenly smiles at me.

“Here I am. What are you doing here?” I cross my arms over my chest. Unsure what to think of his new version of him.

“What? A man can’t come to his own bar?” he asks, spreading his arms out to their full length. The way his muscles look beneath his tight t-shirt and tattoos has me struggling to focus.

“Of course you can, you just startled me.” I say, walking over to him. I lean on the bar top and study him for a minute. I have seen Max have the occasional drink here and there but I have never seen him drunk. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him buzzed. He’s always in control.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d be here.” He says sadly.

He stares at the whiskey in his hands but doesn’t drink it. Instead tears well up in his eyes before falling down his cheeks on a blink. I have never seen Max cry, or even look… sad; the last time I saw someone look as broken as he does right now, was in my own reflection after my parents died. He takes the whiskey glass and throws it against the wall by the bathrooms, shattering the glass as whiskey runs down the wall. Riley comes running out of the office to Max’s side, pawing at his leg. My own tears begin to form as he backs up to the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor. Riley crawls into his lap and his hands rest on her back. I don’t know how to help, but I’m sure as hell going to try. I walk over to him, sitting on the floor with my back against the bar.

“Max, It’s okay. I’m here – unless you want me to go.” I cautiously offer.

“Please, stay.” He whispers through his tears. I nod and sit there on the floor with him. I won’t move until he does. I won’t speak until he’s ready. I just want to be here so he knows he’s not facing this alone. When he seems a little more sober he finally looks over at me.

“I don’t get drunk. I don’t cry. I don’t lose control. Except for this one day, every year. The one day everything was taken from me – twice. It’s the one day I lose control, because I can’t control the losses I’ve suffered. I always spend the day alone, so I don’t drag other people through my bullshit. But if I’m being honest, I really didn’t want to be alone today. That’s why I came here.

“I was really hoping you’d be here painting. Because while I normally spend today thinking about everything I’ve lost and drowning in my pain, today I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Sunshine. And everything I’ve gained since you came into my life.” I’m stunned at his confession. It makes my stomach flip and my heart pound harder inside of my chest.

“Max… you don’t have to face this alone. I’m here.” I assure him, placing my hand on his leg.

“I know you are,” he half smiles. “For the first time, I think this may be the year I come to terms with it all and start moving on. I finally realize that loss is a part of life that I’ll never be able to control. That even though I’ve been hurting for so long, I can still be happy. And I want to be happy. I want to be happy withyou. If you’ll have me.” He says, his sad blue eyes locking on mine. He reaches his hand out for mine and when I offer mine back he pulls me into him. I’m now tucked underneath his warm, muscular arm – my safe place.

“Of course I will. I’ve been waiting onyouto be ready Max, I’vebeenyours.” I admit, looking over at him.

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