I was pretty much wrapped up in a) work, b) cleaning bicycles (don’t ask), and c) playing soccer with my brother (he can be such an angel at times… except for the time he kicked the ball right in my face… and the time he tackled me… and the time I nearly tripped over the ball…)
So, anyway… I hereby present to you:
(No foreign languages! Yay!)
<center>Chapter 53</center>
United States of America, Boston, October 1949
Her rapid footsteps disturbed the peaceful silence that had settled down in the park, and chased several twittering birds and chirping crickets away. Her heart thundered loudly and picked up momentum the second she caught sight of the old oak tree and – of even more significance to her – the lonely figure sitting underneath it. The sun was just beginning to set, and its fading light coated the trees, bushes and flowers in a heavenly shade of orange. It reflected on his face, glistened in his eyes as he raised them to meet hers.
There was something about him, about her, about their shared moment that made her heart flutter upward – into her throat, it seemed. There was something about the way their gazes crossed, about the way the arms he’d rested upon his knees slid off them, about the way her run became a full sprint that made her stomach clench painfully, that made love flood her senses and mind.
She didn’t stop until she stood before him, trying to catch her breath.
“You came,” he said, his eyes filled with something that resembled disbelief, but gratitude as well.
A smile grew upon her lips, and she gasped for air. “How could I not?”
He leaned back against the tree in order to help himself up, and she reached out to help him, her hand grabbing his.
“I was wrong,” he confessed in a repentant whisper. “I was wrong about so many things, Liz.” His eyes shone in the orange light of the setting sun, and seemed browner than ever. Amber, she decided. His eyes were amber.
“You were,” she admitted, her hand reaching out to touch his cheek. He had grown up, she realized. The last time she’d seen him in Germany, his chin had been covered with down. Now, the beginnings of a stubbly beard shaded his chin, prickling her when she ran the back of her hand over it.
He captured her hand with his. “I’m sorry, Liz,” he whispered contritely. “I’m… sorry.”
Liz’s heart swell with hope, and she felt a dizziness rising, threatening to wash over her any second. Her legs felt weak, her knees buckled, and staggering, she tugged at his hand, getting him to sit down with her.
“Are you all right?” he cautiously inquired, his hand tilting her head so that she looked into his eyes.
She nearly drowned, and they both knew she was lying when she answered, “Yes. Of course. I’m just… a little dizzy.”
“I hurt you badly, didn’t I?” he concluded in a sorrowful tone. “I didn’t mean to… to say those things, Liz. And I never meant to –”
She placed a finger on his lips, her eyes boring into his. “Don’t,” she said brokenly, her voice barely above a whisper. Tears stung her eyes, but she determinedly bit them back. “Just listen.”
Quietly, he nodded. Regret flashed through his eyes as her finger slipped off his lips.
She took a long, deep breath and forced herself to look away from him so that she could concentrate on what she wanted to tell him. Her eyes landed upon the suitcases on the grass around them.
“You’re leaving,” she accused him blandly, suddenly remembering the urgency with which she’d ran through the streets of Boston.
He was about to nod, when, with parted lips, she turned to him. “You can’t leave. You can’t.”
His eyes, hooded with a sadness she knew was mirrored in her own eyes, darkened slightly. “I have to,” he countered hoarsely. He scraped his throat and coughed while carefully avoiding meeting her gaze.
“You can’t,” she persisted. “I need you here, Max. You can’t give up now. You can’t run away.” His lips trembled lightly, and for a split second, she could’ve sworn she saw tears blinking in his eyes. “Believe me,” she added, her fingers reaching up to turn his head towards her, “I tried.”
He dropped his eyes to the ground, to the ants crawling in the grass. “It isn’t running away,” he protested weakly. “It’s the only way I can survive, Liz. I can’t be here, risk running into you. I can’t see you, knowing you aren’t mine.” His eyes met hers in desperate plea. “It is killing me.”
“But I am yours,” she refuted ardently, “I have been since that first kiss.” He smirked apologetically at the mention of the first time he had tried to kiss her, and she tilted her head. “Well, since the second kiss, then,” she corrected herself. “I am yours, Max. And I know I’m not who I used to be, and I know you’ve changed as well, but I want to give this, us, a try.”
He simply stared down at her, confusion and bewilderment flashing in his eyes.
“You have to fight for us,” she insisted, not ready to give him up. “Tell me you will.” He was silent, and she laid her hand upon his cheek. “I’ll follow you, if needed. I’ll come with you. You aren’t getting rid of me this easily.”
“I…” he began and he frowned helplessly, at loss for words. She’d seen the hope flaring up in his eyes, though. His surprise over her words and revelations was clearly readable on his face when he continued. “I… I need to be with you.”
She laughed mirthfully at his stunned features, and leaned closer to him, resting her head upon his shoulder. “I am here,” she said. “I am with you.”
Suddenly, she couldn’t get close enough to him. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, nuzzling her throat, inhaling deeply as he took in her scent. She couldn’t suppress a giggle and, through her tears, she saw him smile. It had been so long since she’d seen him smile… genuinely smile.
“Tell me your story, Liz,” he said, his eyes enchanting her with their loving gleam. “You promised me you would.”
<center>***</center>
United States of America, Boston, October 1949
It had been long since the sun had changed places with the moon, and stars had lit the sky with their splendor. It had taken Liz a fair amount of time to tell Max her story, and after she was done speaking, he had begun telling her about his life without her. And, as she lay there, in his arms, listening to the deep sound of his voice, she realized just how much he had changed. Still, she loved him – deeper than she ever thought she would.
“They took good care of me,” he told her, his hand absentmindedly caressing hers, his thumb drawing little circles on the back of it. “As soon as I could, I send a letter to my family to let them know I was alive. I asked them to visit the Connors and ask about you, but word reached me they had left town long ago.”
“They’re all right,” Liz sadly smiled up at him. “I still write with Maria. She’s married now, you know.”
The corner of his lips twitched up in a hesitant smile. “She is? With Michael?”
She nodded. “I miss her,” Liz said, staring down at their joined hands while weaving her fingers through his. “She’s going to have her first child soon… I wish I could be there for her.”
He played with her hair for a brief moment, then dropped his hand in her lap to take her hand into his. “Would you go back?”
“To Germany? No,” she said with a determined shake of her head. “Too many memories.”
He was quiet for a while, enveloped in a contemplative silence.
Her eyes followed his far-away gaze, stared at the moonlit pond in the distance, the shimmering water and waving branches. “When did you return?” she asked after a while. “I left in September.”
“In October,” he answered, and they both smirked at the irony of it. “I wanted to return sooner, but I had to wait until I was completely healed. By the time I was able to go back, the ways of transport were very poor, and I had to be careful. Russians were keeping Germans as prisoners, in camps, and even though I wasn’t a soldier when the war ended, I had served in the army.”
“If only I had stayed a little longer,” she whispered regretfully.
He tightened his grip around her and kissed the crown of her head. “If only’s aren’t getting us anywhere, Liz. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, and even if it were, then it definitely wouldn’t have been yours.”
The ringing of church bells filled the air, and shivering, she crept closer to him. “Where are you staying?” she asked as she disentangled their fingers and unclasped their hands, unable to suppress the need she felt to touch his face.
“Well… nowhere,” he answered, vaguely gesturing at the suitcases spread around them. “I eh… missed my ship, I’m afraid.”
“Good,” she said smugly, giving him a teasing smile. “Where were you going anyway?”
He ducked his head, still slightly ashamed he’d been thinking of leaving. “Spain.”
“Spain?” She lifted her eyebrows in surprise. “You don’t know any Spanish.”
Shrugging, he drew his fingers over her forehead as if to erase the frown and the questioning wrinkles. “You didn’t know any English when you came here, either. I wanted to start anew, Liz. I wanted to forget you.”
“Starting anew doesn’t help,” she said, gingerly smiling up at him, “trust me.”
He leaned forward, cautiously, never breaking eye contact. His lips briefly stirred hers in a tentative, tender kiss, and he smiled.
“I trust you.”
<center>***</center>
Look! Look! No cliff-hanger! *beams proudly* Yay for me! I’ll eh… see you later? Yes?
Oh, and thank you so much for your feedback. I constantly forget to reply to you, but I’m sort of a scatter-brain, and if I don’t do things the second I think of them, I tend to forget them.
Sorry. So... I just... want to say thank you to all of you. Forgive me for not being more personal. Believe me, I want to be, but I just haven't got the time - you'd think that finishing school would give you plenty of spare time, but frankly, it doesn't. 
Love,
Stefanie
I’m still having some problems believing it, but this is it. This is the end. 
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I am absolutely hooked on your Past/Present/Future-trilogy. I read it a long time ago, and I think that, along with Maxeo and Lizzie, it’s one of the few stories I read back then that actually stuck with me. I think... I think I read it when I was 15; at the CrashDown… or maybe I was even younger. 
And they lived happily ever after...