Page 70 of About That One Night
“What?” she asks, crossing her arms.
“You were going on a fucking blind date with a douche,” I say, anger flaring before I compose myself. “Like seriously, what the fuck? I did my best to send you flowers, food . . . everything so you knew I was thinking of you. And what were you doing?”
“She . . . Lily set me up and I didn’t know about it until she introduced me to him,” Zoe argues.
“You told me in a few words to fuck off that day,” I snap, pulling out my phone. “Over text.”
“Because, as I told you, I wasn’t in a good place anymore. We had an agreement,” she retorts, her voice rising slightly.
“We did, but we didn’t play by the rules. We broke several of them, if not all,” I say, forcing myself to calm down. This isn’t the place for this. “And then . . .” I place a hand on her belly, my touch gentle. “Everything changed one more time, and thisis an entirely different endgame. But just because I need to catch up with the news, it doesn’t mean I suddenly stopped loving you—or want to be away from you.”
“You can’t just do this, Maximillian,” she says, her voice wavering slightly.
“What am I doing?” I ask, searching her eyes for any sign of the connection we once had.
“Throwing ‘love’ and . . .” Zoe’s voice cracks, and suddenly tears are streaming down her face. She tries to wipe them away, frustration evident in her furrowed brow. “God, I hate this. I can’t keep the waterworks away,” she mutters between sobs, her shoulders shaking.
My heart clenches at the sight of her distress. Without thinking, I step forward and wrap my arms around her. To my relief, she doesn’t push me away. Instead, she leans into me, her tears dampening my shirt.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I murmur, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” I glance around at the curious onlookers. “My car’s just around the corner, I’ll take you to my place. We can talk there, okay?”
Zoe nods against my chest, her breath hitching as she tries to calm down. I keep an arm around her as we walk, navigating through the crowd. The short distance to my car feels like miles, but finally, we reach it.
As I open the passenger door for her, I catch a glimpse of her face. Her eyes are red and puffy, her makeup smudged, but she’s still beautiful. She slidesinto the seat without a word, and I hurry around to the driver’s side.
As I start the engine, I can’t help but feel a glimmer of hope. We have a long way to go, but at least she’s willing to listen. And right now, that’s all I can ask for.
Chapter Forty-Three
Zoe
I’min the passenger seat of Max’s car, trying desperately to stop the waterworks. I can’t believe I’m crying—again. This whole crying thing is not helping me lately, and right now, when I’m supposed to be all strong and independent, it’s completely backfiring.
I wipe at my tears, frustration burning in my chest. “Great, just great,” I mutter under my breath. “This is not how I wanted this to go.”
Max glances over at me, concernetched on his face. “Zoe, it’s okay. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”
I sniffle, shaking my head. “You don’t get it, Max. I do need to be strong. I need to figure out my future”—I pause, my hand instinctively touching my belly—“the baby’s future, and crying isn’t helping.”
It’d be so much easier to deal with his rejection. When I’m upset, the tears remain where they belong, away. If something cute or nice happens, I just lose it, and this man telling me that he loves me . . . Well, I’m not sure where to go from here.
He can’t love me. My plan was better. He was supposed to sign the papers—without freaking out the way he did earlier—and I would just figure out how to be the best parent. No messy entanglements.
Max pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns off the engine. “Hey,” he says softly, turning to face me. His eyes are warm, filled with an emotion I’m afraid to name. “It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. This is a lot to process for both of us.”
I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “This is not me being overwhelmed.” I sniff, hating how weak I sound. “It’s me every single moment of the day. Puppy commercials and Zoe cries. The mailman brought the mail to my door because the box was falling apart . . . cue tears. It’s just . . .” I trail off, my voice cracking. “And I’m sure people won’t take me seriously if I continue doing this.”
Max reaches out, hesitating for a moment before gently taking my hand. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through me, and I fight the urge to pull away. “Zoe,” he says, his voice low and earnest, “noone’s going to think less of you for having emotions. Especially not me.” He raises an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about other people?”
“Since I lost my shit in front of a potential client,” I groan, rubbing my temples.
“Puppy-related incident?” he asks, taking my hand and kissing it softly.
I try to pull it away, but he doesn’t let me. I sigh, defeated. “No, he was telling me about his children and how they were expecting number three. The way he talked about his wife was so . . .” I sob again, hating how easily the tears come.
“So, the baby is softening you, huh?” he says, his voice gentle.
“I don’t know what the baby is doing but . . .” I pause, suddenly aware of our surroundings. “That’s not why you’re here, is it?” I look around, confused. “Why did we stop?”
