Roswell Fanatics

AN: Hey all, here's the first section of the penultimate part to this fic. I should have another part out by sunday, monday at the latest because I want to get this out and done very soon.

I am all for running over Jules with a bus/car, whatever you got, lol.
And as for the Liz and Max situation...I'm not saying much, but find your conflicting feedbacks really interesting to read. I'm definitely doing my job right then, so thanks for that.
Here's the next part....


PREVIOUSLY

Pressing me against his tense and alert body, he drags his lips away from mine and lifts my hand, palm up to his lips.

“I’ll go check on Xan.” With that, he steps out and walks out of the room.

I stare after him carefully closing and open my eyes but this time, the tears can’t be tucked away.
As they stream down my flushed cheeks and the taste of him still lingers in my mouth, something sweet and soothing shifts in my heart.





Nice to meet you anyway - part 31a

Liz’s POV

Thanks to Julian’s fleet of lawyers and his connections, the ‘crime of passion’ temporary insanity plea got tossed aside. Statements from Ashley’s work colleagues, family and especially from Julian and I, didn’t pain a picture of someone ‘temporarily’ insane, maybe permanently on the sly, but not just spontaneously insane. Ashley is a woman who plans her every move, nothing she does is spontaneous.

There was nothing spontaneous about her plans to kill me. The police cracked her journal password on her computer and read just how long she’d been planning this.
Six months.
She spent six months of her life listening in on Julian’s conversations with me, rifling through his apartment, hiring disreputable characters to spy on me- all so she could find a way to kill me and sure, serve a bit of jail time, but with her money and influence, cope a plea and be out on good behaviour.
That journal pretty is pretty damning evidence and is set to help put her away for a long time. The part that stings for me is that, she can’t be charged with murder for the life that grew inside me for a few weeks, but then again, putting her away is justice for all of us.

There are a few more sessions to go before a verdict is passed. I’m trying not to think about it. I’m trying not to give deep thought to anything these days, I think I’d go crazy otherwise.

Max and I still haven’t talked about the things that really matter, our conversations are always light, which I appreciate. Somehow, I think that an apology wouldn’t make up for all the shit I’ve brought into his life. He tries to bring it up every once in a while, but I refuse to pick up the conversation.
We have a very strange relationship right now. He took to sleeping with me at night, even when I told him he didn’t have to. I have good nights and bad nights, sometimes, I wake up screaming and shaking and he’s always there to hold me. It’s humiliating and annoying that a dream reduces me to a shivering mess. One night, before I made the change, I literally shoved him out of my room to leave me alone. He left, but when I woke up the next morning, he was sleeping next to me with his arm around me. It was after that incident that the tingling thought at the back of my mind burst into the forefront; that maybe there was more to this than him being there for me.

The idea bloomed to fruition when after taking the stand in court, I sat back down beside him and squeezed his hand. He looked at me and smiled, in a way that made it seem as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulder. After trying it out a couple of times, I noticed that my touches no matter how small, brought him comfort - that was mind boggling. I didn’t know that I had that kind of power over him.
Between the support from the press, our families, friends and fans, I didn’t think he’d need anymore from me. That he’d want that from me, but it seemed like he did, so one night, I crept back into our room and slipped my arm around him instead. Instinctively, even in sleep, he turned to face me and pulled me close. He held me tight like he was afraid I’d disappear. My eyes burned with unshed tears at that. Since that night, I’ve permanently moved back to our room for him, but I’m not hopeful enough to let my guard down completely.

He’s too in love with me to see my part in bringing him pain, to see that a lot of blame is on me too. He will thought, eventually, probably after the trail, the loved tinted frames he wears will be lifted off and he’ll blame and hate me. That’s why I don’t talk about anything serious with him, just so I can be with him even the way we are now, before he starts hating me.

****

Max’s POV

She’s on her way out just as Xan and I are on our way in.

My eyes swing from her flustered face to the suitcase she’s wheeling along.
Fear cuts through me like a sub-zero wind.

“If you think I’m just going to let you leave me, you’ve got another thing coming,” I tell her.

I’m prepared to physically carry her back inside and lock her up if I have to.

She looks at me puzzled. “Why would I be leaving you?”.

Oh, I know this game.

“You tell me.”

“Max, that’s a wild assumption,” she shifts the case around, “they’re the bags Casey wanted me to look at, I told you I was taking the ones I didn’t want back. They were easier to pack in a suitcase since I ruined the box they came in.”

“Oh.”

I feel slightly foolish, but even though she’s more open to me than she was before, she’s still distant. You can’t blame me for jumping to the worst possible scenario. I don’t know what she’s thinking, I used to, before all this happened, I could look at her face, study her features and eyes and I’d know exactly what she was feeling or thinking. But now, she’s done an excellent job of erecting an impenetrable wall around herself.

She greets Xan with her normal unchecked enthusiasm, kisses me on the cheek with restraint and goes on her way.

I watch her pull out with Xan hitched to my side. “Got any ideas on how to get your mum back buddy?” I ask.

“Mama kiss,” he suggests smacking his lips together.

“I think I’ll need more weapons than just a kiss,” I tell him.

****

The only good thing about the strained relationship between Liz and I, is that it wasn’t too tasking to keep this from her. My parents are looking after Xan, so I’ll have her to myself for tonight and tomorrow. Maria and Leslie helped me set up the living room and bedroom, I cooked and prepared all the food and it’s all pretty damn good even if I may be biased.

Everything’s ready but I can’t keep from rushing around making sure that I haven’t forgotten anything.

Sweaty palms, painfully fast heartbeat and a dry throat - You’d think I was on a first date instead of waiting for my wife.

****

She’s late.

I put the food to keep warm in the oven and have blown out the natural candles. I wonder where she is?
She didn’t tell me where she was going, but she did tell me when she’d be back and that was an hour and a half ago.

I could ring her just to make sure she’s alright and see if I can subtly get her to drop whatever she’s doing and come home.

I’m just waiting for her to pick up her cell when I hear her ring tone in the hallway.

I forget to breathe for a few seconds.

She’s here!

“Hello?”.

I turn expecting to see her but of course, she’s talking through her cell.

“Hey um, can you come to the living room for a sec?” I ask her.

“Sure.” She hangs up and I brace myself, standing in the midst of it all.

****

Her amused smile dies away when she sees me and the room around me. Her stunned eyes settle back on me.

I offer her a tentative smile. “Happy anniversary Liz.”

****

Liz’s POV

It’s breathtakingly beautiful. Romantic, poignant.

The whole room is bathed in candlelight and fragranced with white and red roses.
And Max, he stands barefoot in the midst of it all, his delectable body housed in black slacks and a white shirt rolled up at the sleeves. His handsome face stares piercingly at me.

He did this. Despite the madness going on around us, between us, he remembered.

“I didn’t forget.”

Okay, that wasn’t the first thing I wanted to say, but it is my one major thought. That’s why I left the house, it’s our one year anniversary today and I needed to take stock, to finally figure things out and while I was doing that, he was…doing this.

He’s prepared for this and I’m…wearing my hair in a pony tail, dressed in a plain blue jumper, faded denim and worn-in sneakers - so blatantly plain and ordinary to his blatantly gorgeous and extraordinary.

“Aren’t you going to take another step in?” he asks nervously.

He’s nervous. What has he got to be nervous about?

I walk in looking around in wonder.

Why did he do this?

“So many candles, bit of fire hazard,” I note with my back to him.

He comes up behind me but doesn’t touch me. “Some of them are electric, thought I’d mix practicality with romance. What do you think?”.

His quiet voice dances over my naked and covered skin. “It’s beautiful,” I tell him.

If I turn around, I’ll turn into him. This surprise has completely disarmed me, so if I turn around and turn into him, I won’t be able to hold it together.
His arms take possession of my waist, it’s actually physically painful not to lean into him, but I manage.
He presses his face into my hair and breathes me in. It sends electric shivers down to my toes.

When he speaks, his voice is broken and shattering. “I’m tired of this Liz, so sick and tired.”

He could mean a lot of things, to spare us both, I don’t ask.

“What do you want from me Max?”, my voice is so low and quiet that at first, I don’t think he hears me.

“I want my wife. I want my best friend back,” he answers.

The heart is an amazing thing, no matter how many times it breaks, it heals itself up again and you don’t notice it until it breaks again.
Like now.

I pat his hands with mine before disentangling his arms from me. “I wish I could give them back to you,” I tell him.

“What do you mean?”.

I open my mouth but find myself at a loss for words.

Hands on either of my shoulders, he turns me to face him. “What. Do. You. Mean?”.

I clear the heavy emotion out of my voice. “I have to go,” I whisper before racing out of the room, up the stairs and into our room.

It’s not until after I lock the door that I notice the candles and roses carefully dispersed around the room. The varying colours blur and clear as I struggle to gather everything I need.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this, but then again, afterall that’s happened, maybe it’s the only way it could have ended.

****

Max’s POV

She has a bit of a head start on me, that’s down to my initial shock, which turned to fear, which transformed into fierce determination and ‘over my dead body’ anger.

I try our bedroom door to find it locked.

“Liz, open up!”.

“Go away Max!”.

“Not a chance,” I retort pounding my fist for added effect. “Liz, I’m not kidding.”

“Funny, neither am I.”

She’s so stubborn, I’m tempted to slap her around once I get my hands on her.

“Elizabeth Parker-Evans, open this door right now or-”

“Or you’ll what?” she dares me.

If this situation wasn’t so serious, I’d be laughing at how immature we sound.

“Or I’ll break this door down,” I warn.

“Don’t you dare Max, just leave this alone!”

Now that I’ve said it, it’s as good as done. I’m used to going through doors with Liz, why not a literal one this time?

“One last chance Liz,” I tell her.

****

Liz’s POV

I take a break from tossing clothes into a suitcase and rush to the door as he rams into it again.

“Max, stop it!”.

I jump back at the force of another more determined and furious thud.

“No!”.

I scream with gritted teeth in frustrations, he’s gonna end up hurting himself.

“You’re crazy!”.

“You’ve made me that way!”, he shouts back.

“If you just give me a few minutes, I can that fix that.”

The ramming pauses. “You gonna let me in?” he asks.

What am I? Born yesterday?

“No”.

“Then you can’t fix it.”

“Fine, knock yourself out,” I grind out.

I ignore his ramming and kicking of the door and just focus on getting packed. After all that shouting, I’m strangely calm about the process now. It’s like I’m eerily detached from it all, for the first time since this nightmare started, I feel okay about everything.

I finish zipping up just as the door bursts open and Max stumbles in. It takes me several attempts to pick up my jaw from the floor and close it.

He stares at me wild eyed and panting.

“You broke down the door,” I state dumbly.

“Rammed it in with my shoulder and finally kicked it in,” he states.

Our eyes are fixed on each other for two bewildered beats. We burst into uncontrollable laughter.

****

I find myself leaning against him for support.

How the hell did I let that happen?

Clearing my throat, I pull myself back together and step away from him. I squeeze his shoulder, he winces.

“Shoulder hurts?” I lamely ask.

“A little.”

Shaking my head at him in amused disbelief, I lead him to sit on the bed and hop on next to him.

“Let’s see the damage then.”

I unbutton his shirt and help him shrug it off. I tentatively touch his upper arm and shoulder, he promptly flinches.

“Well it’s sore. Looks like knocking down doors is gonna leave a mark. Anything broken?”.

He slowly rolls his shoulder, “Nothing’s broken, an ice pack will fix anything else.”

Potential crises over with, I sit back on my knees and drink him in. “You broke down the door.”

“You wouldn’t let me in,” he responds simply.

He scans the room and settles on the suitcase on the bed. “I take it those aren’t shoes or bags for friend?”.

“No.”

His eyes aren’t accusing or bitter, just sad. “So that’s it, you’re what? Leaving me?”.

I slid off the bed taking the suitcase with me. I could say a lot of things, but the words would just be decorative dressing, so I go for agonizing simplicity instead.

“Yeah.”

He nods, looks away from me and then back again. This time, his face is carefully blank and unreadable. “I cant’ let you do that Liz".


*****

TBC

AN: Hey all, we’ve been pruned!! And just in time for this extra long part.

Okay, so, one last part (which per usual will be divided into two sub-sections) to go, we‘ve still got the Julian problem to solve .
That should be up by the weekend at the lastest.

I am not making any comment about Liz , lol, I’m really just enjoying the different ways you guys are reading her and in this part, everything starting being brought to the table

nitpick23 wrote:. Liz is such a self centered witch in thsi fic that Max should take Zan and run, not walk, to the hills. Is anybody ever that self absorbed in real life??

You know what? I actually have a few friends who are worse than this- in fact I have no idea why I'm still friends with them but friendship chemistry is a weird thing, lol.

Alma
Anonymousarfan
begonia9508
BehrObsession
Behrlyliz
BelevnDreamsToo
cherie
Dreamer06
Ellie
Emz80m
Extingman
FSUMSW94
lazza
Liz86000
NorafanofMaxandLiz
nitpick23
Orphyfets
Surfgirl02
Vampyrax
VeronicB

Enjoy…



PREVIOUSLY


His eyes aren’t accusing or bitter, just sad. “So that’s it, you’re what? Leaving me?”.

I slid off the bed taking the suitcase with me. I could say a lot of things, but the words would just be decorative dressing, so I go for agonizing simplicity instead.

“Yeah.”

He nods, looks away from me and then back again. This time, his face is carefully blank and unreadable. “I cant’ let you do that Liz.”

****


Nice to meet you anyway - part 31b

Liz’s POV


Channelling anger and frustration, I retort, “ Then you leave and I’ll stay, either way one of us has to go and it’s less hassle if it’s me. Max, this isn’t exactly a walk in the park for me. It’s killing me to have to do this but I’m doing this for you!”.

“Bull,” he erupts, “you’re doing this for you. You find it this easy to just walk way from our marriage, to just give up?! You’re a coward- not scratch that, you’re a fucking bitch for doing this.”

I let his anger and insults arrow through me accepting them.
“You can call me whatever you want, you’re justified, but it won’t change anything. I’m not walking out on our marriage because I want to or because it’s easier for me. Bottom line is, this isn’t about me. I only let be about me for a few minutes when I woke up after surgery, ever since then, it’s about you.”

He rears up like a rattle snake ready to strike at that. “How exactly? No come on, since you’re all set on leaving me for my own good, I deserve an explanation.”

Of course he does, it would be unfair of me not to tell him why I’m doing all this but it’s not going to be fun, none of this is.

“You’re the innocent in all this Max, the victim caught in the crossfire between very screwed up people. You’re a decent, loving man who’s married to a woman who’s constantly dragging you into the throes of emotional turmoil that she causes or contributes to. None of it has anything to do with you, yet you keep getting hurt by it…because of your connection to me…”

I pause to take a breath before going ahead with rest. He doesn’t say anything, he wants to hear all I have to say, I wish he’d step in and interrupt because this lack of verbal interaction has me more on edge.

“…We should have got this started, never gone this far, but,” I smile ruefully, “you love me and I selfishly love you and didn’t let you go when I could have- should have. You had a really good life before I came and messed it up for you. You were happy and content with it, it was a lot less rocky then this and I realise that I can’t turn back time for you, but I can end any pain I might cause you in the future,” I smile tenderly at him, “It’s our anniversary today, one year of marriage. You’ve been an incredible husband. I’ve been an…”

I look for the adjective and finally settle on one that I think encompasses the shit I’ve put him through.

“…aberration as a wife. I know told I you that if I messed up being your wife, you were stuck with me, but what’s happened has been beyond ‘messed up’. This isn’t about me wallowing in self-pity or taking the easy way because this is anything but easy- I just can’t in good conscious take the chance of subjecting you to further pain from my end…”

And this is really a major factor.

“…because it’s always been from my end and you’ve always handled it when none of it’s your fault or doing. I won’t let that continue. One of us has to break this bond Max, it’s not going to be you, it has to be me because I love you too and so can’t let you stay with me when who knows? Down the line one of us might just die because of my crazy life- I know it sounds melodramatic but look at what’s happened so far?”

And from the way Julian’s been acting lately, I know this- I don’t even know what to call it- is anything from over.

“ I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you because of me so…” hands trembling, I take off the material symbols of our martial vows off my finger and place them on the carpet dividing us. “…I’m releasing you from your promises…I want you to have a happy and fulfilling life Max, you’re not getting that with me.”

There, it’s done.

I tell myself that he’ll be better after this, that I’ll be better. It’s what I have to believe to keep my composure solid.

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head in a speculative gesture as if working out all the possible angles to what I’ve just said.

It all makes sense, I’ve thought about it all day and it is the only reasonable and fair thing to do. I hope sooner rather than later, he’ll agree with me.

“If I have this right,” he slowly begins, “ you’re doing this for my own good, because you love me and want me to be better and happy.”

“Right,” I respond with equal caution.

He takes two steps towards me but stops when his foot nudges the rings still dividing us.

I have no idea what he’s thinking right now. He’s too quiet, too cool, it’s very unnerving.

“I guess I’m in for a pretty depressing future because the one thing- the one person who can make me better and happy plans to leave me.”

I didn’t know. I didn’t know ‘til after he’s said the words how much I wanted him to make this easy for me.
Because of course, I haven’t told him everything and I don’t know if he’s doing this because he knows I’m still holding out on him or because- oh fuck it, I’m too tired for this.

“I can’t give you what you need Max!”.

Why doesn’t he understand that?

His expression turns rigid cool, his eyes glacier sharp and cutting. “You have no idea what I need Elizabeth.”

My eyes narrow at his use of my full name but I refuse to let him shake me.

“Well, I know you can’t get it from the woman who killed your child!”.

The surprise that I let that slip has my jaw hanging open a moment longer than necessarily. That definitely wasn’t what I wanted to say to keep him away.

****

Max’s POV

I stagger back, horrified at the words that just rushed out of her mouth.

“What?” I ask, my voice a hoarse whisper.

I heard, she knows I heard, there’s no reason for her to say it again, for me to even ask but it’s an involuntary human response I guess, when you hear something that’s just so…unbelievable.

“Your child, the one that was growing inside me,” she clears her throat more to steady herself than anything I think, before continuing, “I was supposed to nurture that life and- because I trusted my friend Julian when I obviously shouldn’t have and he in turn attracted a crazy girlfriend, which created a twisted triangle which resulted in-”

She can’t even say the words.

“- which resulted in- because of my crazy fucked up life, you have to mourn the loss of your baby. Your child died because of me!”.

Waves of incomprehensible sorrow and pity crash into me.
How can she say that? How can she honestly believe that?

“Our child Liz, our child died not because of choices you made, but choices Ashley made. I almost lost you! You. Almost. Died..”

I want to take her into my arms and never let her go but she’s edgy and emotionally battered.
I have to bide my time. I touch her with my words instead.

“Do you know how that made me feel? You don’t know what it feels like to have almost lost someone and then to have them back again. Only they don’t give you that chance to celebrate their life, for the terror to dissipate because they close themselves off from you.”

I haven’t told her this, I haven’t anyone this, but she has to know. I need her to know.

“I haven’t been able to make peace with the fact that you’re still furiously alive Liz, I’m still walking around with that feeling of illogical senseless terror that I’m going to lose you somehow. It’s like my whole emotional world, is still stuck in those tense moments before I saw with my own eyes that you were alive.

I need to have you, all of you, in every possible way for time and the world to shift back into their normal places for me. And you want to leave me, because that’s supposed to help me be better…”

The word leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

“…That’s not going to help me Liz.”

Her eyes are glazed over as if she isn’t here but somewhere else, but her uneasy shake of her head tells me that she heard me. That I’m having an effect.

“When I was out, I just walked around and thought,” her voice is quiet and tone eerily lyrical. She’s looking right at me, but I don’t think she’s seeing me.

“Retrospect is a bittersweet thing, I kept thinking, if I’d refused to go out with the girls that night or if I’d just never let myself establish a friendship with you, none of this would have happened. Jules and I would have got together, you and Tess or whatever- main point is, you wouldn’t be scarred by all of this.”

“Is that where you’re going now? To him?”.

I swallow down the bile that just rose up my throat. She’s looking at me now, she’s seeing me.

“I don’t know, maybe in the end. You know what they say about birds of a feather. You and I don’t fly together Max, we never did. Maybe we weren’t meant to have more than…one of those really good one off encounters with a boy who I had a really good conversation with. Maybe, fate’s been telling us all along to change direction.”

“I believe in creating my own destiny,” I tell her.

A wry smile shapes her mouth for a fleeting moment. “That hasn’t done us a lot of good has it? Since we’re here. This isn’t about me leaving you for Julian, this is about me maybe fixing a mistake.”

She doesn’t have to use a bat to pulverise me, her weapon is the plain old English language.

“A mistake,” I repeat dumbly.

She nods. “Both of our lives were going in different directions when we first met. Falling for each other was sort of like throwing a spanner in the works for each of us. And look what happened?”.

“We made a family,” I reply softly.

She instantaneously beams at that. “We have and that part, I’d never take back…but look at what all that has cost you? I won’t let it cost you anymore when it may not have supposed to have happened anyway. I’m thinking maybe long term- Jules loves me, I don’t really like him very much right now, but at the core, I care about him-”

“But you love me and I love you.”

Let’s not forget that or treat it carelessly.

From the way her eyes flood, it makes warms me to know that she isn’t taking this lightly.

“I love you so much that I can’t breathe sometimes, it’s so weird,” she smiles, “but you know, I think there’s someone out there with less psychotic baggage who you can love you more…who deserves you.”

Since when has it ever been about worth?

“I don’t love you because you deserve it. You don’t love for me that either, that’s not how it works,” I tell her.

“I knew this would be hard when I decided to do it-”

Oh, so she’s ignoring that is she?
Fine, I’m just going to have to push this up a notch.

“-I wish that I’d died too- don’t worry, I’m not suicidal, it’s just, it would be so much easier for you to let go and move on but that didn’t happen and that would be selfish of me because Xan needs his mother and I need him and love him- but I love you too and want to do what’s best for you even if it hurts, even if you fight me on this, I love you enough to force a clean break.”

This is wrong. This is all wrong.

I bend down, pick up the rings and put them in my pocket before closing the distance between us.

“Liz, I love you, I need you and I want you. I know you feel the same, if you didn’t, then I’d grudgingly let you, let me go, but that’s not the case is it?”.

I trap her eyes so she can’t look away. This has to be honest. No lies.

“No.”

“Take your clothes off,” I order softly.

“What?”.

I’m already pulling off my trousers. “If we’re going to bare all, I want to go all the way- underwear stays on though.”

I couldn’t control myself if she was naked in front of me.

“Max-”

I cut her off by tugging at her jumper. “Take if off or I’ll do it for you. You chose, with that, I’m giving you a choice, but I’m not letting you walk out of our house or on this marriage. Now strip.”

Eyes wide, she stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind for a moment before tentatively taking off her jumper, jeans, sneakers and socks.

She folds her arms challengingly across her chest. “Now what?”.

There are a lot of things I’d like to do to her but first thing’s first.

“Now, I’ll ask questions and I want you to answer them with straight honesty, no BS. Okay?”.

“Okay.”

“Did I or did I not make it clear to you that I knew you were work and was prepared to take you on?”.

“You did but-”

“So, I entered into this with my eyes wide open and of my own free will. I’m pretty big on honesty, so if I blamed you for all of this Liz, I’d tell you. If I wanted out, I’d walk. I knew your past might come screw with us and I accepted that.
You’re the one for me Liz, even before I met you, you always were.
What you’ve decided to do today is logical and rationale given the bare evidence: Leave me to spare me any unforeseen pain from our life.
The thing is that, the logical stops to make sense when you toss love in there. Love’s beyond your logic and rationale, we married and chose each other because of it. You take it out of the equation and everything about us doesn’t make sense and you end up leaving me. That’s not good.”

She waits a beat staring at me with a frown. “Ask another question.”

“If everything that’s happened you had happened to me- if we switched places and Tess was Jules etc and she hooked up with a guy who shot me and killed Xan and if I came to you, telling you just what you told me, would you let me leave you?”.

She doesn’t reply instantly. She deliberates, ponders, stews.

“No. I wouldn’t let you leave. I’d threaten to kick your ass,” she adds with a rueful smile that I can’t help returning.

“Why?”.

“Because I love you and we would make it work. We’d get through it together, I wouldn’t let you think or do otherwise,” she replies.

“Okay.”

I’m trying not to smile but it’s really hard when dawn seems to finally breaking.

“Now what if, everything that happened to us, happened to Michael and Maria?”.

“Max.”

“Just what if. If Maria came to you, told you she was planning to leave Michael and why, what would you tell her. Honestly”

I can tell this is hard for her. I can see her readjusting things in her mind and it’s not very comfortable for her, Liz likes control, she thought she had a handle on things, now I’m changing that.

“That she needed to talk to Michael, to tell him everything. That…it wasn’t her fault and Michael didn’t blame her- God he wouldn’t- that he loved her and needed to be there for her as much she did for him. That marriage is for better or worse and that they were going through the worse right now, but they’d be okay.”

I don’t say anything, I just watch her, keeping my face carefully blank.

“I see where you’re going with this,” she tells me.

“Do you?”.

She nods biting back her quivering bottom lip. “I messed up in this marriage deal didn’t I? You did your bit but I didn’t do mine.”

“You know what this means right? I’m gonna have to trade you in for another wife.”

“The sex was incredible, I’ll get a load of cash, cars and a few houses out of it, so I won’t come out of this bitter, penniless and destitute.”

“So…amicable?” I suggest biting my inner cheek to keep from smiling.

The twinkle in her eyes is unmistakeable. “Very.”

Her smile fades and the trembling of her lips spreads to her whole body. “She killed our baby Max,” the words come out bruised and broken,” that bitch killed our baby.”

I gather her into my arms, gently stroking her hair. “I know she did, honey, I know.”

Her tears flow freely, every wave of liberated emotion from her slams into me, releasing me from my self-imposed prison.
She will forever be the key that turns my lock and enables me to fully, deeply feel.
Together, finally, exhausted, overwhelmed and with no walls between us, we sink to the carpet, anchored to each other and infused by love to keep from drowning.

****

****

Liz’s POV

When we part away from- I don’t know what to call it- holding onto each other for dear life, we’re both cried out and emotionally done.

Every fear, frustration and guilt slid down my cheeks and escaped in sobs until now, I feel empty but in a good way.

He sits there, with a small smile on his face, watching me. “Feel better?”.

“I didn’t know it could be like this, that one person could right the world up for me,” I confess. “I did that thing I do again, like when I first found out I loved you and broke off our friendship- granted then, I was more justified then now but-”

Grinning wider, he gathers me back in his arms. “What have we learned?” he asks in a instructor to student tone.

“That I can’t go making decision about our relationship alone. That you get a say ‘cuz it’s not just about me anymore. It’s about us.” Sobering up, I tilt my head up to him. “I trust you to help me deal, it wasn’t about that.”

He kisses the crown of my head. “I know. You didn’t trust yourself to let me help you.”

“Really stupid huh?” I blush.

“Misguided, heavily, but not stupid.”

“I guess we’re learning together for the rest of our lives huh?”.

He fiddles with my naked ring finger. “Are we?”.

I cringe, having a flashback to the look on his face when I took the rings off. “I’m sorry. Now that was stupid.”

I reach over to his slack and take them out. It cut me up inside to have to give them up, just to have them back in my hands makes me unbelievably happy.

Settling back into his awaiting arms, I’m about to put them back on when a moment of uncertainty causes me to hesitate.

“Do you want me back?” I ask.

He takes the rings from me and slips them back where they belong. “I’ll never stop wanting you Liz.”

His links his fingers with mine, our rings pressed together.

“When I woke up, after surgery and found out that our baby was gone, I let myself cry and feel the pain for a few minutes. Then because I could imagine what you’d be feeling and because I knew what lay ahead, I put it away. I told myself I needed to get a grip, I had to get you justice and do al I could without losing it, to make sure you were okay. I didn’t need to or deserve to cry or feel anything because I-”

“You weren’t to blame,” he gently interrupts.

“I know that now, I guess it was one other thing I could tell myself to make me hold it together,” I admit.

“I don’t blame you, never did, never will. When you wouldn’t let me see you and when you did and we had that argument, I thought you blamed me for not being there to save you.”

I shift to look at him surprised. “What could you have done?”.

He shrugs. “Something”.

“She would have probably shot you too. Max, not a bone in my body blames you and I’m so sorry for anything I’ve said or done to make you think otherwise.”

He nods accepting that. I study him to make sure that he believes me before settling back into him.

I haven’t felt this secure and this content in a long time.

“I expect you to have your own life and own problems- that’s a given, but I don’t expect you-”

“Not to share the load,” I finish for him.

“Exactly, but if you forget, I’ll be sure to remind you.”

“Thanks.”
It feels so good to smile, for no definite reason other than that being with him makes me smile.
“I love you, you know that right?” I ask him, “It’s just after all the crap I’ve put you through, I find it a miracle that you still love me and that you’re still here. Why are you still here?”.

“Aside from the fact that I love you, one main reason is that you’re work Mrs Parker-Evans. A quarter of the time I find you soothingly sweet, the other refreshingly challenging. Then sometimes, you turn me on so much that I have a constant hard on around you.
Then the last quarter, is where you make me so angry, that I wanna slap you around but seeing as that would offend my sensibilities and go against everything my parents ever taught me, I have to settle for wanting you again.
So, half the time I’m with you, around you or thinking about you Liz, I wanna fuck you blind.”

“Oh,” I blink back the large gulp when he cups me and I go instantly damp.

I feel the warm chuckle of his laugh against my back. “Don’t tell me you’re surprised, you’re the whole package for me.”

I’m frantically trying to pinpoint when the content relaxed atmosphere between us changed to one of sex drenched humidity.

His fingers slip under my pants, into me and I‘m lost. “Um…um…”

“What? No actual words for me?” his husky voice teases.

“I have them, I do,” I weakly protest, “It’s just, it’s a little overwhelming to know right now that, most of the time you’re with me, you want to…”

“Fuck you blind?” he inquires innocently.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from moaning when he hits a sensitive spot.
Again.
And again.
And again.

What was I saying?
Oh yeah.

“Yeah, well because the feeling is definitely reciprocated,” I manage.

“Really?”.

Desperate to have more, to go higher, I start to grind against him.

“Uh huh.”

“It’s been so long Liz, since before I left for the press junkets.”

“I know.”

“Do you really?,” he drawls out. “I wonder…”

My head falls back against him as he takes my hand, slips it under his boxers and leads me to him.

“…if you truly know what that deprivation from being inside you has done to me.”

I didn’t before, but I definitely do now.

I’ve felt him hard before, but this is different…he’s as hard as steel and my mouth waters at the prospect.

He hisses into my ear as I slowly stroke him.

“It has been a long time,” I agree breathlessly.

“Uh huh.” He’s too occupied with nipping and sucking the hollow in my neck at say anything else, not that I mind.

I step up the pace on him and he pays me back in kind until my hands fly out from his boxers to cradle his head as I ride out the long missed waves of body and soul piercing pleasure.

I have a lungful of air, in time, to recover before I find myself on the carpet, pinned beneath his burning flesh.

There’s a wild reckless need in his eyes that my body’s responding to, screaming for him to fill me. I want him to just take and take and take.

“Max, you’re shoulder,” I point out, this position might not be the safest way to do this.

“Screw it,” he responds in a voice rough and sharp with starved lust. His lips crash, bite, taste and feast on mine.

He begins to take with an unrestrained possessiveness and greed that has my blood roaring and skin stingingly in wanton craving for him.

I want to taste, to touch, to mate. I want to give back.

****

Control right now is a foreign word to either of us, through frustrated mutters, curses and giggles, we help each other out of our remaining underwear.
Full skin to skin contact is electrifyingly orgasmic.

Fingers that crave to touch him do, lips that hunger to taste him are thwarted when his hot moist mouth latches onto one breast while his hand shapes and reshapes the other.

“So tasty,” he murmurs.

I moan appreciatively at the cool breeze of his breath grazing against my painfully hard nipple. I don’t remember the words that come out of my mouth, but when his fingers ease into me again, his name is the only one thing my mind can formulate.
Every area he comes into contact with is hypersensitive to his touch. I’m shameless in my desire for him and he’s thriving on it.

The pressure of his teeth sinking into my breast, knowing the marks he’ll leave, has me breathlessly swearing at him.

“I won’t be able to wear any low v-neck tops for a few days,” I complain.

I don’t make him stop though, I want him too much.
His low throaty chuckle sends ripples through me. “I don’t mind seeing my mark on you”, he tells me, “In fact, I intend to make a few more before I’m done with you.”

I swear I go blind for a few seconds when he slips another finger inside me. Gulping down air, I force sound out of my mouth, “I’ll be sure to return the favour.”

I register that his mouth is now millimetres away from the inside of my upper thigh and that if I want to kiss him, his mouth needs to be up here where mine is, but don’t move him.
I don’t have much to do anything apart from manage a short-lived laugh at his “Can’t wait” quip, before drowning into the sweet and vicious spiral he sends me in by making his mark there too.

I get two breaths this time, before he sits me up and impales me onto him.
I see stars. I feel sensual heat and I feel Max.
Hot and hard, sweaty and toned, eyes opaque yet penetrating.

There’s no gentleness between us, this is not the time for it.
Need, at its primal best much be satisfied, rough, hard and fast. My fingers dig into his back and I’m sure break skin, his teeth nip and taste any area of flesh they find, destined to leave evidence of their presence yet neither one of us cares.
Pain blurs with pleasure, getting closer, deeper, is all that matters, all there is for me, is heat and him, always him.
I can’t breathe, I can’t see, I can only ache and give and take and taste until I fall fast and sharp and breathless.

****

I rest against him, still rocking with him and mewing with pleasure. He lowers me back onto the carpet and rapidly hardening inside me, he takes me over again and again and again until I forget my own name.
But he remembers.

“Liz, my Liz.” His fingers brush the damp hair clinging to my face aside before placing soft butterfly kisses on my forehead, cheeks and lips.

And because he does, I find the strength to reverse our positions with him now under me and still willing to go another round.

“I love your stamina,” I purr, placing open mouthed kisses along his chest. Then I suck and bite, determined to leave my mark.

“I owe you a few of these,” I explain.

“Please, pay me back,” he smirks.

And I do, it’s as if every taste of him feeds me with a sexual stimulant and I want more. So I suck and tease and lick until I’m drunk on him and he’s begging me to get inside him now.

I do it , but slowly and while I’m at it, frustrate him by milking him with my walls.

“Liz!”, he growls through gritted teeth.

My deliriously happy laughter is replaced by a gratifying moan when he grips my hip on either side and holds me still.
We stare at each other for a timeless moment, re-connecting, re-affirming all that goes unspoken, before we both shift and ride each other to oblivion.

****

I don’t know how long I’ve been sprawled on top of him like this, but only now do I have the energy to move, but I don’t because, I love hearing his heart beating steady and sound.

His fingers running through my hair brush across my back and finally link with mine.

“I love you Liz, but I don’t want to live in fear that one day, you’ll walk out on me. That I’ll come home to find your bags packed because you thought you were doing right by me.”

His words hang between us like a euphemistic ultimatum, made more obvious by the thudding of his heart.
In the silence, they stun me to deep thought. I’ve always thought between the two of us, I’d be the one to be insecure in our relationship. I never thought Max would or could have reason to, but now I see that he can and he does.

I prop my chin on my arm to look up at him, so he can see into me when I tell him this.
“I can promise you now, that I won’t walk away and you’ll believe me but there’ll always be a part of you that isn’t too sure. And the only way for that part to believe me will be with time. I am in this journey with you Max, all the way. No walking. I stay and duke it out. I love you enough to do that.”

“Okay,” he smiles.

“Okay.”

We help each other sit up. Looking him over, I wince at the angry looking marks forming on his chest, arms and back.

“Sorry.”

He points at me. “Me too.”

I glance down at the marks on my own body and shrug it off with a smile. I haven’t felt this happy, amused and loose in a while.

“You feel like eating?” he asks.

“Sure but…”

It’s going to have to be takeaway because neither of us have the energy to cook a meal.

“I cooked. I’ll warm it up,” he tells me.

Of course he cooked. He had a whole romantic anniversary thing sorted out and I…

“I’m sorry for almost ruining this,” I apologise.

Offering his hand, he helps me up and hands me a robe. Once I put it on, he pulls me into a mind melting kiss. “You’ll make it up to me,” he tells me with a knowing smile.

Dressed in his robe, he holds out his hand to me take it without hesitation and let him guide me.

****


TBC

AN: Hey guys, I'm in a bit of a rush out, but thought it was about time I got around to posting this next part since I didnt' quite make the weekend.

So here it is, enjoy and the final part should be out next week by the lastest. Also I will be posting new parts for You've Got To Be Kidding Me and The Promise next week sometime too.

xx willow.


PREVIOUSLY

“You feel like eating?” he asks.

“Sure but…”

It’s going to have to be takeaway because neither of us have the energy to cook a meal.

“I cooked. I’ll warm it up,” he tells me.

Of course he cooked. He had a whole romantic anniversary thing sorted out and I…

“I’m sorry for almost ruining this,” I apologise.

Offering his hand, he helps me up and hands me a robe. Once I put it on, he pulls me into a mind melting kiss. “You’ll make it up to me,” he tells me with a knowing smile.

Robbing, he holds out his hand to me take it without hesitation and let him guide me.

****

Nice to meet you anyway - part 32a

Max’s POV

I can’t stop touching her. Any kind of touching: holding her hand, my arm around her waist or skin to skin contact- it’s like a genetically driven urgency to be near her. Just to make sure that she’s really here with me, no walls erected between us, completely open.
And when I can’t touch her, while we’re setting up the meal, I’m instantly starved for her and watch her hungrily shearing her movements to memory. Everything she does fascinates, enchants and makes me smile.

****

When we settle down to eat, I reach for hand.
“I don’t know how I’m going to be able to leave you when I go out filming on location,” I tell her.

Honestly, I don’t want to let her out of my sight for the next few years.

She lifts our joined hands to her lips. “That’s not for a while yet. I’ll be here when you get back, I promise.”

I didn’t realise the extent of my insecurities about our marriage, until tonight. Neither of us did, but now that we’ve got them out in the open, we can do our share of assuring and repairing the damage starting from tonight.

Conversation returns to the ordinary and everyday, only this time, there’s no tension behind it; just the usual banter and candour which characterises our relationship. We talk about the trial, about Julian and about our baby with the same honesty we used for the everyday. We share, we lament, we debate and best of all, we laugh about things.

When our wine glasses empty, I make no move to top us up. I just sit back and study her. She meets my probing gaze with one of amusement until it’s clear that I’m not playing a staring match.

“What?” she asks self-consciously.

I shrug. “It’s good to be back in tune with you.”

Her smile is quick and devastatingly charming. “Ditto.”

Deciding that the time is right, I take the slender box I’d stealthily taken from it’s obvious place on the sofa and hidden on the floor beside me, and slide it across to her side of the glass table.

She stares down at it surprised.

“Happy anniversary.”

Suave or what?

“What is it?” she asks, still making no move to open it.

“Open it and see.”

She does as I suggest and on discovering what it is, her features soften, her fingers trail across it but yet she says nothing. And even though I know she’ll love it, I’m left anxious to hear her say the words.

“You know, the wedding anniversary is paper right?”.

I’m confused, shouldn’t she be talking about the present?

“Yeah, but…” I trail off when I notice her glistening eyes in the candlelight. “You love it?”.

She nods. “I do.”

Relieved, I make my way over to her, take it from its box and clasp it onto her offered wrist. I’ve always appreciated the power of money, but ever since I married Liz, I’ve gained an even higher appreciation for it.

To put it plainly, I love buying her things.

“I had it specially made,” I tell her.

“I guessed.”

A square sectioned diamond studded bracelet, except one of the square sections is an emerald with amethyst encrusted around it and another square is a square of sapphire.

“Why does the emerald get to be in the centre and the amethyst around it? Where’s the equality?”.

I laugh because only Liz would say that and I kiss because I didn’t have to explain what the bracelet means, she got it straight away, but I want to tell her anyway.

My fingers dance over it. “This symbolises what you are to me, like the ruby, you’re linked to me. More than that, you strengthen me, you have a hold over me that makes me…more. Then there’s Xan, the child you’ve given me, given us. We’ll keep a diamond for the child we’ll never know, but when we have others, I’ll replace the other diamonds with their birthstones. You, me and our children Liz, our family. You’ve given me that and so much more. I really do love you.”

****

Liz’s POV

I know that love grows and changes over time. My love for Max grew and changed after our discussion upstairs, I didn’t expect for it to grow and change again so soon after. But then, he went and did this.
He did this even while our marriage was rocky, even when I shut him out and he was trying to deal with grief on his own.
The bracelet is an affirmation of what we are and the diamonds of the possibilities to come - of more children to come and I love him for it, so much so that I don’t know what to do with it.

Cupping his face between my palms, I draw his lips into a slow, grateful and promising kiss.
“I really do love you. And I really didn’t forget either,” I add.

He stops me with his hand as I get up. “Even when you planned to leave me?”.

His expression is so earnest and boyish, I have to lean down and kiss him. “Especially not then, except, I wouldn’t have given you one of them, you’ll see why in a minute.”

****

Not that it’s a competition or anything, but I have a strong suspicion that it’ll be hard to top Max for any occasion present wise.

I return to him, a bundle of nerves armed with two gifts in hand. I pass them over to him and ask him to open the big one first.

“I know it’s not as expensive…or just plain wow in all areas as yours, but…it seemed right and I liked how it turned out…” lost for words, I grapple for the last few,”…it’s how I- how you make me feel.”

He’s still staring at it, his expression gives nothing away and I am dying over here. So when he places it aside and quite literally jumps me, I’m a little slow on the uptake. It takes me precious seconds to return his kisses with fervour but even then, I can’t match him. He eases back from me, leaving me an internally melted, light-headed mess.
Thank God, I’m already sitting down.

I study the painting again, still impressed by how it turned out. Our, peaceful home in the foreground, overshadowed by the vibrant sky of passioned reds, oranges, purples and greens. In a little quiet corner of the house and in a clear section of the sky, a red heart shape with L.E. + M.E are printed on like an artist’s signature.

“You like it?” I ask.

“I love it. You didn’t tell me you could paint L.E..”

“I don’t, but I know a guy who knows a guy. I knew I wanted a painting done, so I asked Rath to recommend someone,” I add at his curious expression, “I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, so me and Shane- that’s the guy- threw a few ideas around and this is what we came up with.
Home, our home. You, me and our kids, but firstly…” I point to the sky, “You. I transferred my feelings for you to a colour palette and this is it. You make me feel all those things Max, it’s-”

“Breathtaking.”

Our eyes meet and hold.

“Yes.”

“And humbling for me. Thank you.”

I smile. “You’re welcome. Open the other one.”

He plays around with the envelope just to torture me. “A bit smaller than the last.”

“I’m going with the paper theme all ‘round, now open.”

His amused smile turns into a smirk when he finally pulls a piece of paper out.

“Well now this,” he whistles, “ is-”

“Breathtaking?” I offer with a teasing grin.

I get the sudden sense of being trapped prey to his hunter. “I was going for exciting, sexy, inviting.”

The words hum between us, everything in me is begging for him to touch me, but he doesn’t. He just stays where he is and inspects me.

“Thought I’d take a leaf out of your book,” I respond, surprised at how breathless I sound. “Something for the soul and something for the body.”

“An I.O.U for ten sexual favours of my choice. Definitely more appealing than my present.”

“To you maybe.”

“Or to you…right now. So these favours…redeemable anytime?” he asks.

“Anytime.”

“Okay, I want one now.”

I have to laugh at his petulant demanding tone. “Thought you might. Alright, what will it be?”.

“Well…” he feigns deep thought, “considering…everything, I think I need a bit of release.”

I quirk a brow. “Just a bit?”.

“My muscles have been a little tense, knots everywhere…So I’d like a full body massage please.”

I scrutinize him with narrowed eyes. “That’s not a sexual favour.”

“Mine will be.” He stands up, lets his robe drop to the floor. “I think here’ll be fine. Liz?”.

He stands there masculine to the core and expects me to manage to string words together?

“Huh?”.

Oh yeah, right.

“I’ll just go get, some lotion,” I manage.

“Something that smells like you,” he calls out after me.

You know what? I think this whole sexual favours idea might be a danger to my health.

****

Max’s POV

When she gets back, her eyes linger where I’m hard and throbbing for her. I can tell this is straining for her too, but I doubts it’s as much as I am. I want to take her right now as she mentally has her way with me, but I want to play this out; to tease and taunt both of us until we snap.

I lay a blanket down before spreading out onto my stomach. I look up at her…she’s way overdressed.

“Your robe comes off too honey,” I tell her.

Her eyes jump to my face, she sees the dare and takes it. She lets her robe drop to the floor.

I’ll never stop wanting this woman.

“Where do you want me to start?” she asks.

This is definitely a dream come true.

“From the bottom up,” I reply.

My head supported by a propped elbow, I watch her as she begins. My body is all to aware of her as her hands go about unknotting and relaxing me. I have never had a full body massage by anyone, never wanted it. Until now.
Before this, Liz had only massaged my shoulders and she’s magically good at that. She told me she’d picked up the skill at during her college years, I never asked from who and how and right now, with her working on my feet, I’m not going to.

****

Her hands have skills then draw me completely under her spell and from the way she’s rubbing herself into me, she’s under mine too. As she massages my back, she moves not just with her hands, but whit her whole body. I can feel how wet she is for me, she knows I can, but doesn’t say anything, neither do I.
Speaking wouldn’t be a wise thing right now, I personally can’t. The air, dense with her strawberry-vanilla scent is electrified with the unspoken promise of hot, sweaty sex. All I can do is moan at her impact on my body.

She climbs off me to allow me to turn over and I’m delighted to note that her eyes are as dark, dilated and heady with desire as mine. She once again begins at my feet, unleashing her blissfully relaxing and torturously delicious ministrations on my body once more.

I forget how to breath, the moment those teasing hands still on either side of my upper thigh and she engulfs me with her mouth. Once, just once before shifting her attention to my upper body, tugging one of my arms straight.

“Vixen,” I murmur as I watch her massage my palms.

She meets my eyes, her smile lazily amused. “Problem?”.

Her hard nipples, begging to be tasted draw my attention. I shake my head in reply.

Biding my time, I wait until she leans over to put more pressure on my upper arm and good shoulder. Then with my hand between her legs, I make my move.
The contact of my fingers with her wet heat draws a hiss out of both of us. She pauses for a moment, her eyes lock with mine before she resumes her ministrations. And so do I.
I keep up with her pace, keep her eyes locked to mine. We don’t mention the fact that she’s now riding my hand or that my other free hand is now satisfying my craving to massage her breast. When her inner muscles clamp around my fingers, hot and deliciously greedy, her mouth clamps onto mine smothering the shudders and whimpers of release.

Wordlessly still, she shifts to my other side and begins work on my other arm, taking care to mind my sore shoulder. I take recovery time to suck her juices off my fingers, capture her eyes with mine again, never breaking away, even when my fingers slide into her again.

****

By the time Liz massages my chest, I want her. I want her so painfully, so badly that we both know that when I take her, it won’t be slow and it won’t be gentle.

I hold her hand movements on my hammering heartbeat.

“Liz.”

It takes great effort to say her name, but the way I say it, she understands.

“Okay,” she nods. And raises her hips, her hand encircles me, ravenous and throbbing for her and leads me home.

Time slows in that moment where we adjust to each other, where we savour, then everything happens in a flash. My last tether of control snaps and I roll her underneath me, her arms above her head cuffed at the wrist by mine.

“We’ll go slow next time, I promise.”

She raises her head drawing me into a thirsting kiss. “I know.”

The words float to my ear seconds after the desire and permission in her eyes give me the go ahead to take, to plunder, to devastate.

****

****

Liz’s POV

After that night, things between Max and I got better.
Better enough for us to go to our beach house with Xan and say goodbye to our child by the ocean waves and with three white roses. One from each of us.
Better enough to go through the trial and attend Ashley’s sentencing together. Once her plans fell through, she got too cold, arrogant and insulting. There was no mercy shown in the verdict.
Justice was served. It was done. Finished.
But when my gaze settled on Julian after the press interviews and statements, I knew he was the one last thing I had to wrap up before it was well and truly finished.

I crossed over the room to him to begin the process.

“We did it,” he told me with a smile.

“You did it. If it wasn’t for you, your lawyers, your-”

“If it wasn’t for me,” he cut me off gently, “this would never have happened. But it did, so joint effort all around?”.

There was no point in arguing it.

“Okay. Listen-”

“I’ve gotta go, but, I’m staying in town for another week. If you need to…talk, you know where to find me.”

“But-”

“Hey, Max…”

Was Max the reason for his hasty departure? Julian had never run away from Max before, maybe he really was moving on.

“…I’ll see you around Liz.”

Or maybe not.

He was halfway across the room by the time I finally worked through surprise to find what to say to him.

Max wrapped his arm supportively around me. “Care to share?” he asked.

His tone seemed calm and relaxed but I wasn’t fooled, not anymore.

“I need to figure out what to do about him,” I replied.

****

Max jiggles me in his lap to get my attention. We’ve taken to sitting in the garden and just enjoying being around each other after Xan‘s settled into bed.

“So, I’ve been thinking about Julian,” he begins.

“Uh huh.”

Jules leaves town in two days and I still haven’t sorted out what to do about him.

“And that maybe you should go easy on him.”

I freeze, my mouth open in shock. As I recall, when my dear husband found out the full extent of Jules’ obsession with me, he wanted to pound him and break every bone in his body.

“Go easy on him?”, I repeat incredulous.

He holds out his palms acknowledging the change in tune. “I know, I know. I don’t like the guy, most of the time I want to punch him out, but that’s because of how he is with you- because he’s in love with you.”

I swivel around so that I can see him better. “Where are you going with this Evans?”.

“I was just thinking you know, the guys is used to getting everything. He fell in love with you but didn’t, can’t ever…”

I kiss the tip of his nose for that.

“…get you and he lashes out at me ‘cuz I have you and love you-”

Frowning, but only for form, I interrupt. “Again, I love how you make sound like a prize.”

“That’s because, you’re the only prize worth winning. Anyway, so he lies about being over you, so he can be close to you. I get that, if it had been the other way around, maybe I would have done the same thing- in fact I think I did something close to that.”

And I’m reminded of the time he took me to lamaze classes while I was pretending to be with Alex.
We’ve come along way since then.

“…He couldn’t get over you and in a bad way- which helped lead to the Ashley nightmare- but with or without that happening, he still loves you and I can understand loving someone who’s with someone else. And not being a part of their life when your used to being in it? It kills you.”

“So what are you saying? That I should be friends with him? Being friends with him after I know he’s like obsessed with me?! Talk to him normally while a little voice in my head reminds me that he’s in love with me?”.

“Well…”

I slid off his lap.

Has he lost it?!

“Yours isn’t the name he called out while ejaculating into another woman!”.

“And I’m thankful for that. You’re going to have let that go, while freaky, I can get how that could have happened.”

I fold my arms, not frowning for form this time. “Is this a guy’s bonding together thing?”, I demand.

“Yes-no-kind of. Look, not wanting to be pinned to a wall here, but he’s powerful, arrogant and in love with a woman he can’t have and since that woman is you and I love you, I understand the frustrations of not having you.”

“That’s a nice save Mr ‘I’ve beaten up Julian a number of times over the fact that he’s in love with my wife’. You’re gracious.”

He sighs and lifts me back onto his lap. “Just because I understand, doesn’t mean I’ll stand by and let him make moves on you. I’m not saying bring him back into our lives like nothing happened, because I’ll be honest, you and me would have a falling out over that. His being in love with you doesn’t erase everything, I wouldn’t be best buds with him, but…just go easy on him.”


I’m trying to work out exactly what that would entail.

It’s an interesting concept given the givens

I lean back, studying him just to be sure that he is being completely serious.
He is.

“Go easy on him.”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.”

****

Julian’s POV

I knew she’d come.

Even if it was just to say thank you again, I knew she’d come. Sitting opposite her in my lounge area, I can read the conflict on her adorable face, so I know she’s come to say a whole lot more than thank you and after we get over the pleasantries, she gets right down to business.

“I don’t blame you, for what happened to my baby, me getting shot. Any of it.”

That’s a pleasant surprise because I‘m was sure she did especially at first.

“Oh?”.

“I don’t blame you anymore,” she corrects with a self-deprecating smirk.

“Thank you, that means a lot.”

And it does. Her forgiving me means more progress, more of her letting me back in again. All the sleepless nights, the cold-sweat nightmares of not being able to save her - all of that fades away when she smiles at me. There’s no anger in it, or sorrow, just a pure free, no-strings attached smile reminding me of why I fell for her all those years ago.

“So about us.”

“About us,” I repeat in the same considering tone.

“With a little help and you being you, I’ve come to an understanding of why you did what you did, but-”

“If you’re going to ask me to stay away from you and your family again, you don’t need to, I’ve decided I really will.”

Her brows lift in surprise. “Figured I’d have to threaten you with a restraining order on that one.”

Restraining order? Like that would stop me if I wanted to get to her.
No need to remind her of that now.

I smile. “No need.”

“May I ask how you came to the decision by yourself?” she asked still incredulous.

Not that I can blame her really.

“Being around you, you were right, it wasn’t healthy. I wasn’t getting over you, just projecting- Ashley, the pictures of you in my apartment- it bordered on…”

“Obsessive, weird, freaky?” she supplies.

“Yes. I need to be away from you and be fine with it. I’m okay with the fact that you’re with Max now and I’ll stay away and respect that, in hopes that someday you’ll come back to me.”

****

Liz’s POV

And here I thought that we were finally on the same page.

“Julian.”

“Was he your first?”.

Woah, that came out of left field.

“What?”.

“I’ve always wondered that and since we’re bearing all, I thought I should ask. Was Max the one you gave your virginity to?”.

Huh?!

“That’s none of your business and way off topic.”

“It’s very much my business and definitely on topic.”

“Why does it matter if Max was the first person I had sex with?”.

“It does.”

This is pissing me off.

“Why ‘cause you wanted it to be you?”.

“Yes!”.

Woah, I didn’t expect to hit anything with that.

I’m on my feet instantly following him.

“What?!”.

“It was supposed to be me!”.

I take a few seconds to check my temper. “And how do you figure that?”.

“We were intense Liz, we still are. If we hadn’t broken it off and done the five year thing, I’d have definitely had you.”

He stands there looking all smug about it. I want to punch him, instead I notch up the sarcasm.

“Because no one can ever turn you down right?.”

“Well there’s that…”

“Oh, I hate you right now,” I tell him in a lethal whisper.

He merely smiles and brushes his thumb across my cheek with a quickness that doesn’t give me time to move out of his reach.

“I wanted you and you wanted me. It would have happened naturally and…”

The way he’s looking at me makes me feel naked. I make up for that self-consciousness by glaring at him.

“…because I know you and because you’ve managed to keep Evans, I know it would have been beyond explosive and very very hot.”

From the way he shakes his head, I know he was imagining it. Surprising me again, he takes a step away from me with a self-deprecating chuckle.
“All this and I never even got to make you love to you.”

“That’s not my problem right now.”

His features soften and vulnerability becomes his second skin when he notices just how irritated I am.

“I love you Liz, you’re it for me.”

And we’re back at this again. I at least came prepared for this.

“I’m with Max.”

“Now are you, but somewhere down the line, you’ll come back to me.”

He says it with such confidence and certainty that I’m stunned speechless for a time. Then I say the words slowly and clearly, so that maybe they can finally get through.

“No, I won’t.”

“You think that now.”

“No, I know that now. Max and I, our whole crazy relationship before and after we married- we’ve been through a lot to get where we are. We’ve had problems and no doubt we’ll have them in the future, but we’ll get through it with each other, day by day. It’s sometimes infuriating, challenging and painful, but always rewarding and we’ll do it for the rest of our lives because, I want him and he wants me - always.”

“But I want you too,” he states quietly.

I remember what it was like to be in love with Max while he was with Tess and decide to go easy on him.

“You can’t have me,” I tell him softly, “Max is it for me, as I am for him. It’s reciprocated. It’s not between you and me and I’m not sorry for that because I love Max but I am sorry for that because it hurts you. You have to let his go Jules. Find someone else.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?!”.

His outburst, desperate and hopeless, is so unlike him.

“With five years apart the first time, I tried. No-one ever came close. After you and Max, I tried and now we’re here,” he shrugs, “ with me still in love with you. There won’t ever be anyone else for me but you Liz.”

This is hard, this is really hard. I didn’t think it would be like this. I can handle him angry, I can handle him unrelenting but I have no idea how to make this better for him when the next words I’ll say won’t give him what he wants.

“I care about you Jules, above everything, I do care. I want you to be happy, I want you to love passionately, but not me.”

“Anyone else would be second best. I don’t do second. It wouldn‘t be fair to them.” He says it with that cool, controlled calm he no doubt uses in his business meetings.

That, I can handle.

“I’m not saying take what you feel for me and transfer it to them, love is complex enough to allow you to love someone else differently to the way you love me.”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“you can’t always have what you want.”

His respond is curt and absolute. “I do.”

I don’t know what else to say that will make him understand. I’m beginning to think there never was.

“You can’t force me to love you.”

“I’d never try. I just know that it’s inevitable. I was there before Max Evans and I’ll be there after him. We’ll be there. Don’t worry,” he murmurs softly, “I wouldn’t do anything to your husband Liz, I love you too much to hurt you that way. I won’t need to do anything for you to come back to me. We have something, we always will.”

Going easy on him isn’t working.

“You always were a cocky son-of-a-bitch Jules. And I’m sad for you, I really am. I never wanted this for you-”

“So do something about it,” he challenges.

I open my mouth, can’t think of a single word to say, everything so far hasn’t hit its target. What can I say to him that’ll make him give up, let it go?-and not be bruising my lips with his.

What the- it takes me a few brutal seconds for me to break out of the kiss and his vice grip. I can still feel his tongue in my mouth, probing, tasting and taking without consent.

His breath catching desperately in his throat, he continues to touch me with my eyes.

I check in the involuntary shiver before he notices. It’s pointless really, in the state he’s in, I don’t think he would.

“Passion, heat, wild, explosive, undeniable, that’s you and me Liz, always.”

I’ve got nothing. Staying here any longer would be a complete waste of time.

“I’m leaving.”

I don’t wait for his permission, I don’t stick around for a good bye, I turn and start to head out.

“No.”

His vice grip latches onto my hand and whirls me around sweeping me into his chest, groping me in that possessive and familiar manner only reserved for my husband. I shove against him with unchecked anger - tempted, so very tempted to knee him in the balls - and yank my wrist out of his grasp.

“What are you doing Juilan?!,” I slice the words out.

He looks at me suddenly shell-shocked, as if waking up from a nightmare. “I don’t know. I-”. His gaze dart along me, lingering on my burning wrist and my sore lips. I can only imagine what I look like. “I did that.”

I take another step away from him not give myself space to breathe. “Yeah you did.”

Why am I still standing here? I should have left by now, especially by now.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what I am anymore,” I return honestly. “You hurt me Jules, you never hurt me, not like this.”

And I guess that’s why I’m still here, I need to know why.

“I lost it- desperation…a while since I felt that. That doesn’t excuse me.”

“Not you it doesn’t. I thought I was a bit out of line at times. You? You take the cake. Loving someone means wanting them to be happy. I don’t know if this is news to you, but I am. Happy. With the life I have with Max. Why can’t you be happy for me huh? Why can’t you,” I shrug my shoulders helplessly, “be happy?”.

“Because I want you to be happy with me!,” his shrug mirrors mine, “Just be with me.”

His arms come around me, once again out of the ball. He holds me tight, so tight, but I can’t return any of his feelings. I just stand limp in the embrace until he lets me go.

“I stepped over the line.”

Folding my arms for comfort as well as stability, I nod. “You did.”

Knowing there’s nothing left to say, I walk past him, careful not to brush any part of me against him.

“Liz.”

The way he says my name - apologetically, regretfully and most painful of all hopefully - has me pausing at the open door and turning to him.

“Haven’t we been here before?”.

I was wrong, there is one more thing left to say.

I cross the room back to hi and take my hand in his one last time.

“Haven’t we been here before?” he repeats in a broken voice.

He knows it too, that it’s different this time.

“And we’ll never be again,” I reply softly. I stand up onto my toes and press my lips for a timeless moment where the past becomes the present and then the past again and I step back and away.

“Goodbye Julian.”

****

I don’t tremble, I don’t cry until the elevator doors in the lobby open and Max steps into view, waiting for me.

Not caring about the curious eyes of the people around us, when I’m in his arms, I tremble and I cry.

****

“You okay?”.

I didn’t even register him taking me into another room until he’s caressing my face.

I nod. “I told you not to come,” I tell him for form.

“And I didn’t listen.” He kisses my marked hand, runs his fingers gently across my lips. “Stay here. I’m going to kill him.”

That kicks me back into gear. “No,” I tell him tugging him back to me.

“Why not?! I’d have never have said what I said about him if I thought he’d lay a hand on you. I’m so sorry.”

I take his face in between my hands, steadying myself. I press my lips against his. I don’t have to ask or tell him what to do, his mouth, his taste, his love in a tenderly devastating kiss, replaces the desperate brutality of Julian’s.

Satisfied that he’s pacified, I ease back and shrug with a rueful smile. “Everyone’s sorry,” I tell him. “I just want to go home.”

“Is it over.”

“From my side it is, from him? I don’t know- it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s finished for me, so it’s over.” I link my hand with his, “Take me home.”

“Anything you want.”

We walk out of the hotel, with the past laid to rest, hand in hand.

“You still think I should have take it easy on him?”.

“As easy as a sledgehammer to glass.”

“I love you.”

These sudden outbursts of love I feel for him, always bring a brilliant smile to his face.

“Is that right?”.

“Uh huh,” I reply grinning even wider when he pauses to bring my hand to his lips.

“Then I definitely need to get you home.”

****

TBC

AN: Hey guys, well this is it…the final part of this fic. I loved working this, it was FUN. I loved reading your feedback and just how engaged you got with the characters and how they developed.


THANKS TO:

anonymousarfan
BehrObsession
cherie
Dreamer06
Earth2Mama
Ellie
Emz80m
Erina258
FSUMSW94
janesdilemma
Jason's Lover
Lazza
Liz86000
NorafanofMaxandLiz
orphyfets
Realistic Dreamer
Timelord31
vampyrax
VeronicB

And to everyone else who posted feedback and to all you lurkers out there.


This fic started out as just a fun ten parter and then Smac suggested that I take it further [Thanks for your encouragement and support by the way ] and it evolved into this.

I hope you all enjoy this last part, I ended it the way it felt right to and with a smile on my face, so I hope it does the same for you.


Enjoy.

PREVIOUSLY

“Is it over.”

“From my side it is, from him? I don’t know- it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s finished for me, so it’s over.” I link my hand with his, “Take me home.”

“Anything you want.”

We walk out of the hotel, with the past laid to rest, hand in hand.

“You still think I should have taken it easy on him?”.

“As easy as a sledgehammer to glass.”

“I love you.”

These sudden outbursts of love I feel for him, always bring a brilliant smile to his face.

“Is that right?”.

“Uh huh,” I reply grinning even wider when he pauses to bring my hand to his lips.

“Then I definitely need to get you home.”

****

Nice to meet you anyway - FINAL PART - part 32b

Max Evans: Playboy to a one woman man

I love my job, my family, everything’s good for me right now

From Hollywood playboy to husband, father and Oscar winner. Veteran actor Max Evans is a man who finally has it all. In this candid interview he shares his views on his Oscar win, family and love.

He keeps me waiting for a full ten minutes. And the reason for it? Not fielding calls from his agent or any of the numerous people who want a piece of him. He smiles apologetically and tells me that he promised he’d call his son to say a quick hi.

[M.E.] - I’m pretty busy, especially now, so I have to make time for my family.

[E.T.] - That’s quite a change in priority from the Max Evans of a few years back.

[M.E] {chuckles lightly} - Yeah, a lot has changed since then.

[E.T.] - Yeah, not only are you married but, you’re an Oscar winner now, congratulations on that by the way.

[M.E.] - Thank you, it was one of the most memorable moments of my life.

[E.T.] - Not only in getting the award I imagine, but having your wife present it.

[M.E] - I don’t know how they swung that. It was pretty sneaky, especially on Liz’s part; I had no clue of her involvement until the time came. I was floored to see her on stage. And having her present the Oscar to me? That just topped it all.

[E.T.] - And viewers were rewarded with that steamy kiss.

[M.E.] - What can I say? Have you seen my wife? I am one lucky man.

[E.T.] - I indeed, you two have managed to keep quite a lot of your private life, private. That must be quite difficult.

[M.E.] - Well, being famous has its sacrifices, but most of the press and fan are really good about giving us privacy. Being in the public eye is a bit of a give and take.
We’re used to and fine with people taking a couple of pictures or me signing autographs as long as they leave us to our own devices after. All in all, it’s been a good exchange, but the media’s concerned with ratings and sales, so when things happen, some reporters excessively invade our personal space and when that happens, something has to be done.

[E.T.] - You’re referring to the two restraining orders you had against those two journalists two years ago during the Ashley Holmes trial.

[M.E.] - As an example, most of the public and the press were great - just doing their jobs- , it’s just some people don’t know boundaries and when it involves someone threatening family boundaries especially at a sensitive time, I don’t play nice. I don’t think anyone would.

[E.T.] - Indeed. How did you handle that traumatic time in your family life?

[M.E.] - It was a rough road going through the trial. My marriage was definitely challenged then and since then, but Liz and I got through it with the support of family and friends.

[E.T.] - What flipped the switch for you relationship wise?

[M.E.] - It was Liz. I met her and fell in love with her before either of us knew it.

[E.T.] - But it took a while for you two, your will-they-won’t-they relationship was always a ratings and circulation grabber.

[M.E.] - Well, sorry if circulation dropped when we finally got our act together.

[E.T.] - The wedding pictures made up for it.

[M.E.] - Oh well, that’s all right then.

[E.T.] - What was it about Liz, that captured your straying ways?

[M.E.] - It wasn’t and still isn’t just one thing about her, it’s her whole person. Beauty and imperfection inside and out. Plus she never made it easy for me, she challenges and understands me, doesn’t put up with my crap and…it sounds cliché but she completes me in every way. I didn’t want to share her and she didn’t want to share me, so we got married.

[E.T.] - It’s safe to say you love her.

[M.E.] - With a depth and power that sometimes scares me.

[E.T.] - You had a long term relationship with Tess Harding before that. Are you two friends?

[M.E.] - Relationships end for all sorts of reasons and Tess understands that. We’ve kept our friendship and have both found the perfect people for us. As, I’m sure you know, she’s dating Alex, a friend of Liz. Things worked out perfectly.

[E.T.] - Are you happy?

[M.E.] - Life couldn’t be better.

[E.T.] - How’s fatherhood treating you?

[M.E.] - I love it. Xan’s four now and everyday, he learns something new and I love that; watching a part of me grown and learn and help him on his way.

[E.T.] - How do you manage to juggle family time now, since your Oscar win, offers must be pouring in.

[M.E.] - I’ve got a couple of projects already lined up, that’ll keep me away from home for a while, but there are phone calls, emails and set visits. I’m not saying it’s easy but it’s all worth it. To have both worlds requires effort on my part and a lot of trust in a marriage. There are always bumps along the road, but we deal with them.

[E.T.] - I take it married life it treating you well?

[M.E.] - I repeat, have you seen my wife?

[E.T.] - With such a busy schedule, any plans for more kids?

[M.E.] - I’m not an only child, Liz is but…we’ve got a big house and the honeymoon period between us isn’t over if you catch my drift.

[E.T.] - Drift firmly caught and many of our readers will I’m sure envy Mrs Evans. You’ve been married for three years, which is a long time for Hollywood marriages, what are your words of wisdom?

[M.E.] - Well, I don’t know if wisdom is the right word, but I have learnt some lessons. First off, the glitter of Hollywood is only for events or when we’re out in public, other time, we’re just plain Max and Liz. Like any other married couple, we have our problems. Being married, living with someone else, the merging of two lives is a challenge at best. Each person has to assimilate and accommodate the other.
Trust is a big thing and I’ve learnt that it can be chipped by not having enough dialogue with your partner. Forgiveness and patience is a big thing too. We’ll never stop making mistakes and forget about that the book says, love means always having to say you’re sorry.
Passion is another thing. Liz and I are both passionate people and in marriage, in ours anyway, splitting passion bit by bit, changing its pattern, position and direction, makes everything seem new and accustomed to at the same time. I’ll be honest, it’s been three years and even more than that of friendship and I don’t think I’ll ever stop wanting her.

[E.T.] - She is a very lucky lady.

[M.E.] - She knows and if she forgets, I’ll frame this article to remind her.

[E.T.] - Well Max, it’s been a pleasure interviewing you. So glad you could come share with us a little of your life.

[M.E.] - I enjoyed it. I love talking about the things that make me happy.

****

Maria’s POV

“There is no way you can do that Tess, I won’t allow it!”. My judgement on the issue is greeted by a mixture of responses.

“I agree, no way,” Isabel adds.

“Come on, we’re in the 21st century here, I don’t see what the big deal is,” Courtney argues.

“Liz, has he said anything to you, hints?” asks Tess.

Liz shakes her head. “Not a thing.”

“See,” Tess waves her hands triumphantly, “We’ve been together for two and a half years now, and we’re serious, like marriage serous. I love the guy; we’ve had the ‘do you want to get married someday, kids, future’ talk. I’m ready.”

“But is he?” asks Leslie.

She’s been a welcome addition to our circle since the thing with Liz and Ashley. She gave us advice on how to handle it and things moved on from there.

“If she asks, he’ll say yes,” Liz supplies.

I take a sip of my lemonade mixed with apple juice and Tabasco sauce. Of all my craving, I always find this one the most refreshing. I sit back for a momentarily removing myself from the ‘to propose or not to propose’ debates, and take a break to savour the relaxed, fun atmosphere.

These get-togethers were my idea launched a year ago. We were always busy with projects and our separate lives, that it was difficult to all meet up. And the way our lives go, girl talk is a vital requirement. So every few months, unless it’s an emergency, we have a date set in our diaries and a venue. Today, it’s my back garden. The boyfriends, husbands, kids or whatever stay at home. This is women only.

“All I’m saying is that he’s the guy, let him do the kneeling down,” contributes Leslie.

I raise my glass to her. “Amen to that sister.”

“Who says I’m going to kneel?” Tess asks.

We all laugh at that, at the image of Tess Harding getting down on one knee to propose to Alex Whitman. Not that she doesn’t love him - which took me a few months to believe - but she is still the Tess Harding - which is also why it came as a shock that she won us over. Me especially, but after she stopped trying to home wreck Max and Liz, it turned out, she was an okay girl.

“So you’re definitely going to propose?” asks Courtney.

A dreamy look tints her already glowing face. “I’ve picked out the ring and everything.”

“Well the congratulations,” she responds.

“He hasn’t said yes yet,” Tess ruefully admits.

That sends us all into another fit of giggles. Alex Whitman, hopelessly in love Alex, turning down a proposal from the woman he loves?

“Oh he will believe me,” I assure her, “As long as you don’t kneel, I guess I could allow it.”

“Oh how gracious of you,” she smirks.

“I have news,” interrupts Liz after a period of general chit chat.

We all quieten down and wait expectantly as she hesitates. She’s been a little too quiet and fidgety since the beginning. I knew something was up but wanted to give her a chance before hassling her about it. My crazy hormones mean that my hassling can now go on a lot longer than usual, so she’s lucky she’s coming clean now.

“Well?” asks Isabel.

“Max wants to try for another baby,” she quietly reveals.

Signals of concern, apprehension and caution are silently passed around our circle.

Isabel is the first to speak. “And how do you feel about that?”.

Liz sighs; her posture sags almost as if she’s relieved she got this out. Like a hug weight has been lifted from her. “I don’t know,” she confesses. “We had a big argument about it. He just took me by surprise you know?”.

My hand instinctively caresses my rounded belly. Michael actually fainted when I told him the news.

“Don’t you want another kid?”, I ask.

“I do and I know two years is a long time, it’s just I hadn’t thought much about it as a reality until he brought it up. I kind of lashed out at him,” she admits.

“That’s understandable,” offers Leslie.

I’m glad we have a shrink on hand.

Maybe we should leave them alone, but no one’s moving and neither of them is giving any privacy signals.

“Is it?” Liz asks frustrated. “It’s been two years; shouldn’t I be over it by now?”.

“You’ve dealing with the PTSD, and this is just the last stage of that. You scared about having the baby?”.

“It’s irrational I know, Ashley is in lock up, I need to just get over it.”

“You talk to Max about it?” I ask.

“Not so much,” she admits. “I wasn’t exactly thinking straight.”

“Now that you’ve had the time, bottom line, you want another child with him?” asks Isabel.

“Yes.”

The relief around the table is palpable. We all have a vested interest in Max and Liz’s relationship. After everything they’ve been through, all we want is for them to be happy.

“I’ll talk to him,” she tells us.

“Good and if you get working on that, you’ll be knocked up in no time and our kids can be near age mates,” I tell her.

“Yeah okay, I’ll get pregnant especially for you ‘Ria.”

I wave my hand in mock modesty. “Oh dear, don’t go out of your way.”

More chit chat again and then Isabel.

“So I had sex with Kyle last week.”

Another silence descends on the table, this time, amused and surprised glances are exchanged. Isabel and Kyle have clashed on more than one occasion, they’ve been out together a few times but both had nothing good to say about their dates and now out of the blue…

“Was he good?” asks Courtney.

“Unfortunately yes,” Isabel replies glumly. Then she grins as she gives us the juicy details.

****

Max’s POV

I don’t notice her watching us until I put a giggling Xan on the ground after playing airplane with him. He notice her and races towards her with a joyous exclamation of ‘’mommy’’. I turn and watch her gather him up in her arms. The peace and happiness they radiate together shoots a pang in my heart as I envisage more. More birthstone to put on the bracelet she always wears on her wrist.

Michael comes up behind me. Since they had the women’s thing at his and Maria’s, he was banished and naturally came over here to hang and to spend ‘uncle time’ with Xan. Ever since he found out that Maria was pregnant, he has taken his uncle role seriously, to “get used to dealing with kids before Maria delivers…hone in,” his skills.

“Need a babysitter?” he asks.

He knows about my argument with Liz.

“Thanks,” I tell him and cautiously make my way over to her.

I didn’t expect her to react the way she did; horrified. As if the idea of more children with me was the worst thing to happen to her and that I was out of line for even suggesting it. I was offended by that, I’ll admit and delivered some truths to her quite harshly in response. I’ve cooled off and hopefully she’s cooled off.

****

“I’m sorry.”

When we’re alone, with Michael looking after Xan, she’s the first to apologise. A good sign that she’s cooled down.

“You just came at me with it and took me totally by surprise. I mean, one minute I’m reading the paper and the next, I’m trying to deal with the fact that my husband wants to impregnate me. It scared me.”

We stand a distance away from each other, like we always do when we need to get out issues between us that require more space than usual.

“Why?” I ask.

I can understand that after losing a child, she would be apprehensive to try for another, but that wouldn’t have elicited such a strong reaction.

“I have this irrational fear, that I didn’t realise I had until today. I know Ashley is behind bars and that life’s pretty non-threatening but this almost paralysing fear seized me that if I had another child, I’d lose it too and I don’t know how I’d handle that.”

Damn Ashley for making her go through this.

The distance between us is closed by our entwined fingers. Any potential anger or harsh words stored away if needed are discarded. It isn’t that she doesn’t want to have children with me. I know compared to hers, my insecurities are especially irrational, but I’m relieved.

“Hey,” I tug her arm playfully, “When you get pregnant, we’ll go through it together okay? There are no obsessive psycho stalkers threatening our relationship anymore. You won’t lose our baby because of that. We’ll have a baby and he or she will be beautiful.”

“I’m sorry for calling you an insensitive SOB who deserved to have his balls chopped off.”

I tug her closer to me until our bodies mould naturally against each other. “I’m sorry I cut into you about still being stuck in the past and being self-absorbed and selfish,” I mutter against her hair.

We stay like this for a while, holding each other, treasuring that sense of completion that comes with just ‘being’ with the person you love.

Her arms circle my waist and she squeezes me tight. “I really want to have more babies Max.”

Wave after wave of emotion radiates through me, it takes a beat for me to manage a response.

“Babies with me?” I tease.

I feel her mouth curve upwards into a smile. She eases back to look up at me. “Now that you question it, do I have other options?”.

I pull her back flush against me. “None.”

“That’s good.”

The kiss we share after that is gentle, soft and irritatingly teasing.

“What do you say we get on that baby making situation,” I suggest. My hand is already making its way under her dress.

“What about-”

“Michael’s watching him.” Working quickly, I lock the door and whip off my t-shirt and slacks. I’m so hard for her that I’m praying she won’t leave me in this state of desperate need.

Her dress comes off in a flash, I take over the task of removing her underwear, silently thanking God that he picked me out a wife that’s as horny for me as I am for her.

****

****

“Hey honey.” I lean down and give her a peck on the cheek. She jerks away from me with the expression of hidden panic you give to a stranger who just got a little too friendly.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asks

“Silly mummy, it’s daddy,” Xan tells her. His raises his arms up at me for a lift, which I happily oblige to.

“Hey big guy,” I greet him.

Xan and I spend time together, catch up, and make plans. Liz frowns at me when she doesn’t think I’m looking.

Okay, so I haven’t spent as much time with my family as I’d like to, but a lot of projects I’ve wanted to do have come through. It’s not as if I’m neglecting them, I call and visit when I can and so do they. Although a lot of that hasn’t happened as often these past few months, but what can you do? Both Liz and I are busy people.

That’s what I tell her when she complains about me cancelling our dinner date last week.

“The only difference Max was that I was willing to move my schedule and make time for you!”.

She has her arms crossed and her expression is pretty glacier.

“Liz, look, I’ve been on a plan for hours, I’m tired. Can we pick this up later?”.

The sub-zero expression abruptly vanishes. She closes up on me.

“No.”

I’m getting the unsettling feeling things are much worse than- well I thought everything was fine.

She shakes her head at me and turn to leave. Now I’m scared, I hate non-fights with Liz, they’re the worst.

“Hey, hey,” I grasp her by the elbow and coax her to a standstill, “Look, I’m sorry. What’s wrong?”.

She fixes her despondent eyes on me. “We haven’t had sex in a month Max, did you know that?”.

Actually no, I haven’t had time to think about anything but my work. However, now that it’s been brought to my attention…

“A month? That long?!”, I exclaim.

“About the same time I’ve been pregnant for.”

She says it so casually that it takes me precious seconds to compute.

“You’re what?”.

“Pregnant. With child. Yours if you were wondering.”

Ah sarcasm and anger. I may be in the dog-house but there’s a chance to get myself out later. Right now, there are more important things to celebrate.

“You-we’re pregnant?”. I’m sure there’s a goofy grin on my face, but it’s called for.

“Uh huh,” she nods.

I gather her up in my arms and capture her lips in a fierce kiss.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I ask.

“I was, at dinner, last week, which you cancelled.”

I could kick myself.

“I am scum,” I confess.

“Among other things.”

I can tell beneath the anger, that she’s hurt.

“Have I really been that bad?” I ask.

“I love you Max, you know I do and when I married you, I knew that you love what you do. And after the Oscar win, I accepted that you’d get more brilliant opportunities for roles and I’m happy for you, I am- but our son misses you and I know you make it up to him, but I’ll call it Max, I’m feeling neglected. We haven’t had sex for a month.
We’ve talked on the phone a total of ten times this month, six of which I initiated and before that- we literally had to pencil in sex, you had interview after interview, meeting after meeting even when you were home.
I know I’m busy too and I’m not flying anywhere or having to talk to the media and whatnot, but…I’m pregnant and would really like it if my husband would be supportive and dependable and be there for me when I need him. Like he promised me.”

Her eyes are filled with unshed tears; she’s nervously biting her lower lips and fiddling with her fingers. She’s vulnerable, so very vulnerable and I haven’t seen it. I haven’t paid much attention to her. I’ve taken it for granted that she’ll be there and support anything I do, that she’ll be fine with me putting my work ahead of her. A mistake made by someone riding on the wave of adulation.

“I didn’t notice,” I confess.

She shrugs ruefully. “You were busy.”

That’s not good enough, not anymore.

“So were you.”

“What do we do now?” she asks.

“Now, I apologise for neglecting you, ask you to forgive me and reorganise my schedule to put my family back where it belongs on my list of priorities, especially now. Liz, we’re having a baby!”.

Our delighted laughter fills the room as I scoop her up in my arms and spin us around.

“Hey, I didn’t get the apology.” She says it lightly, but I know it’s important.

“You’re right, I am truly sorry,” I tell her earnestly.

“Apology accepted,” she grins.

And it hits me then, just how much I’ve missed her. I’ve missed us, being like this with each other.

“Do I get forgiveness?” I ask.

“You’re not off scot-free yet, you’re on a probationary period pending the changes you suggested are fulfilled. But you are forgiven.”

There’s still a certain insecurity lurking in her eyes that I want to eradicate.

“I’ll do better and if I don’t, call me on it okay?” I ask her.

“It’s a deal.”

We settle on the couch, with her still in my arms and my hand firmly planted on her stomach where our child grows.

“So, who knows?” I ask.

“I wanted to tell you first, but after you cancelled, I called Maria and vented. It slipped out among other things.”

I wince at the thought of the things Liz told Maria about. Maria, who is in the last stages of her third trimester and according to Michael, whose bad side you don’t want to get on at the moment.

“She must be pissed at me. Why didn’t I get an irate call about my being a jerk?” I ask.

“I begged her not to. I wanted to deal with you.”

“And that you have,” I agree.

The feeling of guilt for being a neglectful husband, of for months choosing my work over my wife, hasn’t left me yet.

“Doesn’t mean you’re in the clear with her though.”

“Damn.”

“Hey, you reap what you sow.”

“I am so sorry,” I murmur nibbling her ear.

A month. No action for a month. That is not right.

“You’ll make up for it,” she tells me.

“How about we recreate the act of um…making our baby?”.

She turns, straddles me and we’re hot and heavy on our bed until my hand snakes under her top towards her breasts. Then she stops me.

“Let’s go tell Xan the news.” She doesn’t give me time to convince her to deal it, she’s off me, off the bed and headed to his playroom.

“Liz,” I complain after her.

She flashes me a devious grin over her shoulder. “You’ve lasted a month, what’s a few more hours?”.

“Hours? Honey, that’s low.”

Oh she forgives me for being an ass alright, but I get the feeling that she’s damn sure going to make me pay for it.

****

Liz’s POV

I get a voice mail alert as I slide out of my car. Curious, I check in.

“Hey Liz, it’s me…”

I roll my eyes at the fact that he doesn’t announce himself. He just expects me to recognise his voice - which I do. It started three months ago, he found out that I was pregnant, sent a gift basket and called me. I didn’t pick up, so he left a voice-mail. I changed my cell number, he tracked me down and now keeps leaving voicemails every now and then to tell me how he’s doing and asking me questions on how I am, which I don’t intend to answer. Max and I are hoping he’ll just give up eventually if I don’t give him the satisfaction of my attention.

“…hope the baby’s doing well. How far along are you? Six months or so now? You probably have strange cravings and such don’t you? Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I’ve started seeing someone again.”

I drop my shopping bags on the doorstep.

Another girlfriend? Oh no.

“Don’t worry,” he chuckles, “I’ve checked her out, med files and everything. Even my family’s vetted her, if that’s anything and as I’m not obsessed with you like before, I think this will turn out to be okay.
We have a good time together and I was up front and honest to her about where I am in my life. Her name’s Rebecca Gaines, she’s a magazine editor, I think you’d like her. I don’t know…I think I could actually fall in love with her. Huh, how about that?”.
He seems as surprised as I am. “Oh well, I’ll see how it goes. Take care of yourself.”

I stand frozen for moment with the phone attached to my ear and my keys fixed into the lock. Julian in potential love with a woman who - given how thorough he must now be - isn’t likely to kill me? That’s a development.

I gather my shopping bags and enter the house eager to share the news with Max.

I find him in the kitchen with Kyle.

“Hey, you’ll never guess what.”

His eyes are tinged with sympathy when they meet mine. “Liz.”

It’s then I notice that Kyle’s looking at me with same expression.

“What?” I ask bracing myself for bad news.

“It’s Julian,” Max tells me.

Julian?

“What about him?” I ask.

“He’s dead Liz,” he replies.

That can’t be right.

“What?”.

“He was on a chartered plane and-”

I shake my head. “No.”

He lifts his hand and waves it towards the t.v. set, “It’s all pretty sketchy, but-”.

“No”.

“- the plane crashed. No survivors.”

His voice switches to the background as the voice of the newscaster and images on screen take the centre stage of my attention. I barely feel Max’s arms around me as I stare fixedly at the screen.

“He can’t be dead; he left two voicemail messages on my cell three hours ago. It has to be some mistake. It’s Julian. There has to be some mistake.”

****

Max’s POV

We’re preparing to fly over for his funeral and I don’t know what to say to her.

Once it was verified, once she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Julian was indeed dead, she didn’t cry, she was just quiet and has been since. I don’t know what to make of that.
I mean, I’m sad the guy died, but it’s almost as if she’s mourning him. She has a right to; they were friends and lovers and had history even though he was crazily obsessed with her. I guess that’s what’s really bugging me. She won’t talk to me about him. I know she loves me, that she chose me over him, but the way she’s acting…

I know it’s crazy, but I’m jealous of a dead guy.

And I tell her words to that effect before we leave. And what does she do? She smiles, her features softening in that cute amused way she gets when she’s touched by something.

“That’s sweet Max.”

“No it’s not,” I tell her with child-like petulance.

“Oh,” with a light laugh, her arms come around my waist; she rises on tip-toe and kisses me. When she settles back, her expression is one of serious sincerity. “I love you Max.”

I still have to know.

“What about him?”.

“Julian, you can say his name.”

“I can, but I don’t want to.”

I’m being sullen, childish, immature, pick a word, but this issue has been driving me crazy for days.

“Most of the time, I feel nothing about him and that’s pretty bad especially if his family expects me to say something nice at his funeral. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I did love him, differently, then I liked him, cared about him and then things went sour between us…sometimes I didn’t like him and sometimes I did. When I think about him, it’s with mixed emotion. He’s dead and I’m saddened by that fact because in way, I’ll miss him. But I can’t cry over him. I can’t.”

“Don’t. Everyone grieves in different ways,” I tell her.

“I guess.”

I wait a beat.

“Would you cry for me?”.

“I’d be heart broken and devastated. I’d cry for you for days,” she replies.

“Good to know.”

She playfully pushes me away. “You’re such a jerk.”

A jerk, whose paranoid fears have fortunately been soothed.

****

Liz’s POV

Jules’ funeral is a big affair. The mourner list is one of the who’s who of society. He was powerful, respected, hated by some of competitors or people he crushed and well liked by those he treated well and had good business with.
He was a talented businessman, but also a good man; he invested his time and money to a variety of foundations and had formed one of his own which provided college scholarships and life-saving operations for people who couldn’t afford it.

I didn’t know this about him, but I do now.

****

I speak at the service and give a speech to honour his memory. I talk about the fun time we had together, how he was when things were good and how supportive he was when things were bad…and how he loved.

I cry then, because I do remember, I’ll always remember him for that.

****

His family as usual is…interesting. Half are actually here to mourn him and the other are here for appearance and can’t wait to see what he left them in his will.

His brother Bryan, whom I’ve met before, years ago, is nice to me. His mother - divorced from his father, is very welcoming even though she knows mine and Jules’ edited history. She’s the one who arranged for the private plane to fly Max and I over. The rest of the family eyes me with suspicion, as another potential recipient of Julian’s will. I’ve heard the talk, just because Julian had a ‘thing’ for me, he might have left me some money.
Whatever, I despise them. If he left me anything, which I doubt, I don’t want it.

I also meet Rebecca Gaines. Dressed in a simple v-neck black dress, cleverly applied makeup to hide evidence of sleepless nights and shed tears, she is a stunning red head.

I have to smile at that. At least he changed his hair colour preference.

Max leaves my side for us to talk.

****

****

I expect some venom or bitterness about me and Julian, but I don’t get it, instead, she takes my hand and tells me how much he loved me and how he was happy that I was happy.

That brings more tears streaming down my cheeks.

“You were important to him,” she says. I can tell she’s waiting, hoping that I’ll give her something of comfort. A part of him.

“He called me, the day he died,” I tell her.

Her face lights up. “He did?”.

“Yes, he left me this voicemail telling me about this magazine editor he was dating and how he thought I’d like her.”

“He told me that if you and I ever met, that we’d get along.”

“He told me- he thought- he said he thought he was falling in love with you.”

She nods, smiling, wiping the tears streaking her makeup. “I think…I think I was falling for him too.”

The enormity of the unfilled exploration, that journey not travelled hits me.

Maybe they actually could have been happy together.

****

It turns out that Jules did put me in his will. He left me a house in Maine and Prague, the latter because it’s on my list of places to visit.

“…now you’ll actually have a place to stay when you go”, his lawyer read out.

He also left me his Monet which I adored and his Starry Night, which is currently on display at a museum in London. On top of that, he declared me chair of his foundation.

I was all set to renounce the right to his gifts when his secretary and confidante Abby pulled me aside and talked me out of it.

“You may not have ended up together, but what you gave him was special. He loved you and sometimes it came out wrong, but he loved you. He told me you had a good heart. He didn’t leave you money because he knew you wouldn’t want it. He told me once that money wasn’t you; he said you used your heart a lot. The foundation is a good thing; it needs a person with a good heart.
And the houses and the paintings? Keep them. I loved Julian like my own son, but I didn’t approve of some of his actions. Keep the stuff as compensation”

So I did.

****

“That’s it Max Evans, I’m done with you!. It’s over,” I yell striding - as much as a person seven months pregnant can stride - away from him with Xan toddling closely by my side.

“Liz, come on, we can fix it,” he calls after me.

I whirl to face him. “We shouldn’t have to fix it!”.

“But-”

The door bell cuts him off. I walk away to answer it.

Both our mothers as well as Maria are at the door. Our lunch date, I forgot…because of Max and his lame brain ideas.

“Hi Mum, Diane. Maria, we’re going out. You drive.” I grab her hand and we head towards the driveway ignoring Max’s pleas.

“What’s he done this time?” asks Maria.

I grit my teeth at the image of my formerly ‘me’ study. “I’ll tell you on the way.”

****

Max’s POV

“I don’t know,” I almost yell in frustration. “She complained last week about her office and how she wanted to redecorate. So I did it for her to save her time and she blows up at me! Threatens to trash my office.”

“Well, what is it about the new look that she didn’t like?” my mum asks.

They’re not helping.

“I don’t know. I didn’t get much out of what she said aside from the threat to trash my office.”

“The writing room is mummy’s favourite room,” Xan supplies, “She did it all by herself.”

“Ah,” Nancy responds.

“Ah what?” I ask.

“Liz hand picked everything in that room didn’t she?” she asks.

“Yeah, why?”.

“Oh,” winces my Mum.

“What?! What?!”.

“She took time picking the decorations, colour patterns, creating her own space and you just came in there and changed it without consulting her,” she explains. “Took over her territory…”

“That’s a bad move without the pregnancy,” Nancy adds, “but with it, that’s pretty unforgivable.”

“What? It’s just a room,” I tell them.

“Her favourite room,” adds Xan helpfully.

“Thank you son.”

“ ‘welcome,” he responds with a proud smile.

“So what do I do?” I ask them.

“Find her and do a lot of crawling,” my Mum advises.

“Do you guys argue in front of Xan a lot like that? Is that healthy for him?” asks Nancy.

“Don’t worry granma, I ‘stand,” Xan tells us.

“Understand what honey?” asks Nancy.

Now, I’m curious too.

“Mummy and daddy aren’t really mad at each other. ‘Tis ‘cuz mummy is having a baby, her hormones are high. I might be having a baby sister ‘cuz Uncle Alex said she wasn’t this touchy with me,” he tells us.

“Oh really?” my mum inquires.

I can tell they’re amused by it. Flattered by the attention, Xan beams.

“Uh huh and then after that, ‘cuz they love each other, they go at it like bunnies…”

What?

“…to practice making other babies and then they’re fine again.”

“Uh huh.” My mum has that ‘what have you been teaching your child’ expression which I squirm and blush under.

“Who told you that big guy?” I ask him.

“Uncle Kyle,” he answers.

Oh really? I’ll be sure to have a little chat with him later. Right now, I have to escape the twinkles of mischief that the pairs of eyes watching me have and go find and make up with my wife.

****

Liz’s POV


And the sky opened up
With the soil of the sun
Dreaming of my true love
I don't mean to be so strange
But my life just took a change
'Cause I just found someone special
And that's really something special
If you knew me
Nice to meet you anyway…
- Gavin Degraw, Nice to meet you anyway


He approaches our table cautiously. I don’t have to guess how he found me. Maria stumbled across Formes Café/Restaurant - an exclusive mecca for pregnant women because it caters to our wild cravings - when she was pregnant with Amelia. It’s a good place to talk with other pregnant mothers who are in the public eye and not feel like a beached whale.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Maria tells me. She takes the keys, so I’ll have no choice but to ride home with him.

He slides into the free seat and nervously stares at me. My face is completely blank. I’m not making this easy for him.

“So wanna dance?”

I wasn’t expecting that.

“Excuse me?”.

He smiles. “I said wanna dance?”.

Oh, he thinks he’s so clever.

“Sorry, I don’t dance with men I don’t know.”

“How about I change that.” He holds out his hand, “Max Evans.”

With a rueful smile, I shake it. “Liz.”

“No last name?”.

“I haven’t decided yet, I could be Liz Evans.”

“Same last name as mine. Think we’re made for each other?”.

“Or I could be Liz Parker.”

“I’m rooting for Liz Parker-Evans myself,” he supplies.

I shoot him a withering glare. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

“Aside from the obvious, what’s a gorgeous woman like you doing in a place like this?”.

“Being away from my husband,” I reply.

“You married?”.

I flash him my ring.

“What a coincidence,” he shows me his, “me too. What did he do?”.

“Something unforgivable.”

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“He invaded my private space and redecorated it without consulting me, as if I didn’t exist or matter, when it’s my space!”.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it like that. He probably just wanted to do something nice that, given your condition, would take any stress off.”

Okay, so he has a point but I’m sticking to mine.

“He could have asked.”

“Probably wanted it to be a surprise and,” he shrugs helplessly, “he’s a guy. We’re at a loss when it comes to the rules of the female species. I’m sure he’s really sorry, he upset you.”

He takes my hand in his. I don’t pull away.

“Maybe I’ll forgive him.”

“Do you love him?” he asks.

“Ridiculously. How about you, you love your wife?”, I ask.

“Insanely. So have you decided on the last name yet? I really like Liz Parker-Evans.”

I smile. “Liz Parker-Evans it is.”

“Good. I want to take you home with me.”

I lift an eyebrow. “What would your wife say?”.

“If you were to come with me, what would your husband say?” he grins.

He helps me up keeping a hold of my hand after. “So,“ he brings our joined hands to his lips, “what would they think?”.

He pulls me close as we head out.

I grin up at him. “Why don’t we find out?”.

****

THE END