Page 8 of Maximum
March 12th
Maximum: See, we have so much in common already, ha ha.
April 1st
Maximum: Did you see Noah and my sister moved their wedding up a week? It’s interfering with our trip to South Africa.
April 1st
Fleur: Very funny! You had me running to Noah and he looked so confused until we realized what day it is. Well played. By the way, I’ve decided you can come.
April 1st.
Maximum: YES!!!
April 1st.
Fleur: Sorry, April Fools’. I still don’t think it’s a good idea.
April 15th
Maximum: I’ve asked River to seat us together at her and Noah’s wedding. It will give us a chance to get to know each other better before our trip.
April 17th
Fleur: I’m getting a feeling that you’re a bit bossy. Not sure that’s a quality I want in a traveling companion.
April 17th
Maximum: Nah, I’m not bossy. Only in certain situations, but since you don’t want a sexual relationship with me, you probably won’t see that side of me.
That last text made me decide that bringing him was a firm no. Maximum’s talk about being bossy in bed had inspired unwanted feelings in me. On the one hand it made my emotional burn wounds itch from fear that a man could ever get me under his thumb again. But on the other hand, his words poked at my sensuality, which I’d suppressed for a long time. Sure, I had chosen to dedicate my life to my work with animals, but I was still a woman, and I’d have to be dead not to see that Maximum was an attractive man. For a moment, I held the phone in my hand and asked myself the questions I’d avoided.
Why didn’t you just tell him no from the beginning?
Why drag it out for this long when you know you can’t offer him anything?
You know he would be a temptation that you don’t need, so why did you even entertain the idea of bringing him in the first place?
My chest lifted and fell in a heavy sigh. It was hard to admit to myself that behind the competent farm owner that I wanted the world to see, there was a naïve girl who had once dreamt of finding love.
With a firm shake of my head, I hardened the protective layer around my heart and began typing my rejection to Maximum. To be polite I would tell him that he could join me another time. It would most likely be several years before I would get the opportunity to go back and by then he would be in a relationship, making it impossible for him to join me on my trip.
My finger hovered over the send button, reading over my text once more. Just as I was about to press down, an email came through from Pierre.
Pierre: Hey, Rosebud, I heard that you’ll be at your parents’ photo exhibition in Cape Town in a few weeks. I’ll see you for the opening reception and then we can catch up. Don’t make any plans after; I want to take you out for drinks.
I sighed out loud. Pierre had never accepted our divorce and I doubted he ever would. He wasn’t good at taking no for an answer. It was annoying how he still wrote to me as if he had a chance of getting us back on track. It had been four years since I left him, and he made it sound like I’d asked for a small break.
My hands tore through my hair. I was tempted to tell my parents that I wasn’t coming, but if I was honest, I had known there was a chance Pierre would be at the reception. At thirty years old I should be strong enough to face my ex-husband, but his constant pressure was what had driven me to leave South Africa to begin with.
Right now, it was unthinkable that he could ever talk me into giving him another chance, but Pierre would still be a major annoyance at the reception. It was guaranteed that he would use his smooth words to try and connect to the young naïve part of me who had believed all his promises.
The thought of ending up in a dramatic explosive fight with him at my parents’ big night made my stomach ache and my throat burn.
And that’s when an emergency plan started brewing in my mind. Instead of answering Maximum, I took days to consider if he might be part of the universe’s solution to my problems with Pierre.
April 29th
