Page 31 of Last Chance

“Marry me, Ali.”

Max whispers it, but his voice is so sincere it’s bringing tears to my eyes. More tears than I’ve already cried this afternoon which in itself is a miracle. Because this whole thing. It’s crazy. Max and me—us having a baby. I keep saying it and it doesn’t sound real. It’s as if reality is trying to slap some sense into me, as the sonographer wriggles the bar over my stomach and both of our eyes are glued to the tiny screen where we can watch our tiny little human growing. Perfectly healthy and happy according to the technician.

Max’s whole body is shaking with tears. Mine too. This is crazy.

Fantastic. Absolutely fucking amazing. But mind blowing at the same time. From that passionate night. From me completely freaking out about Max and me finally crossing the line. The line we weren’t allowed to cross. My brain is full of so many other crazy thoughts that night about Max that it never crossed my mind that we didn’t use a condom. That I never went to get the morning after pill because I was so concerned about our night of passion, being full of such emotional consequences I didn’t dream up any other potential life altering scenario.

And then this morning, Max did as he promised he would yesterday. He turned up at my apartment in the best car he could find, the driver not even allowed to open my door for me because Max had to. Dressed up (well dressed up for him I suppose) in a black button-up and slick black jeans that covered his arse in the most mesmerising way I got a little dizzy looking at him. He brought flowers. Sunflowers, which somehow he knew, are my favourites and we were driven to the most exclusive wine bar he knew. He’d done his homework apparently and knew I shouldn’t eat much before the scan, so we just had a couple of nibbles and drank sparkling water. We talked. Talked about so much. Everything and nothing, my band, his band. Cassy. He even talked about Kyle a little which was good. I realised whilst we were chatting just how much I’ve missed him. Missed him being part of my life and it felt good to have him back, even if it is just fleeting.

He’s not pushed anything, we both agreed to not talk much about the baby until the scan. Until we knew everything was okay. But the few things he did say? He sounded so sincere, so genuine it made my heart hurt with how much he said he wanted this.

He’s held my hand all the time we’ve been in here. He’s still clutching it now and I’m not sure I ever want him to let me go. I turn to look at him, his hair perfect, his cheekbones high but his eyes sparkling and wet with hot happy tears.

A tear drops down my cheek as I watch him

“Ali, marry me,” he repeats. Knowing my eyes are on him now.

“Max.” I warn him.

“Ali.” He copies my tone.

“No, Max, seriously,” I say to him, a little more sternly. The emotions in this room are so huge it’d be easy to fall into his arms right now. To kiss him and pretend to play this happy family thing. But we’re not there yet. I’m not sure if we can be.

I notice the sonographer shuffle in her seat. “We’re nearly done here, then I’ll give you guys some space,” she says softly.

“No, you really don’t need to. He’s just emotional. You know, big bad rock star and all that.” I try and laugh, lighten the mood but the emotion in my voice might have given me away.

“Angel, please, I’m not. Well, I am. But I mean it. If you won’t marry me move in with me. Ali, please? I’ve got so much room and we can bring our little baby up together. We can do it together, everything. All the night feeds, all the early mornings. As a family.”

Family.

That’s something I haven’t let myself have for a very long time. My heart sings for a minute.

“Max.” That strong, stern manager voice is there again, I know I can overreact but I know he can too. Max Baines runs at a pace of a million times a minute and sometimes he misses the logistics.

“We can sleep separately if that’s what you want? I’ve got three bedrooms you know that but the one that I always call Cassy’s we can change to yours and the baby’s room makes three. That or we move. I can buy us a big house. In London. Out of London. Anywhere. Anywhere you like?”

“Max, slow down. We were getting married a minute ago if I listen to you,” I laugh as I squeeze his hand in mine. Because he’s saying everything, everything I’ve ever wanted him to say. He is—but there is still that massivewhat ifhanging above us.

What if we don’t work?

What if I’m not good enough for him?

What if he realises plain-Jane me is not really the girl of his dreams and it’s just that I’m one of the only constant figures in his life?

What if he breaks my heart again?

What if I break his When he realises how goddamn insecure I am about myself? About him. About the world’s reaction. What if it’s too much for him?

“Sorry.” Max looks to the floor, our hands that were laced togethers break and I use mine to reach for him. Tip his chin so our eyes are looking into each other’s again. I stroke his cheek with my fingertip and smile.

“Baby steps, my darling,” I whisper.

Hoping I can listen to my own words with my heart pounding so hard and fast in my chest.

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