Infinity: Based on a True Story (19 page)

Some women long to have their own child, beg and pray for it… and I just tossed it away. Got rid of it like it was nothing.

Maybe if I’d heard the heartbeat… maybe if I saw actual proof…

It still aches a little, the pain lingering deep in my chest each time I think about it.

Max has apologized plenty of times for it, but his apology meant nothing. I forgave him, though, simply because that’s who I was. I still loved him. I still cared about him, but I knew that we weren’t meant to be.

We couldn’t get through the hard part of being in a relationship. We were unhappy with each other.

It was terrible.

But it was meant to be that way.

It was meant for me to leave Max behind for good. Meeting John was proof that I’d made the right choice.

Max wasn’t mine then. He never was. I just wanted him to be. And it sucks because we were both so wrong.

I constantly forgave Max, not because I was still in love with him, but because he begged so many times. Even though he went missing for nearly three weeks, I forgave him.

He was never the type to go through a hardship. Maximilian Grant always had it easy—always had it made—but the death of his parents, his closest family, took a serious toll on him.

He finally cried with me—no, actually we cried together. We cried because it turned out he actually
wanted
me to keep the baby, he was just afraid of fucking up, just like any guy would be.

Because of my impulsive decisions and stupid, inconsiderate thoughts, the baby was gone.

I didn’t know how to tell him at first. It hurt to see that light in his eyes when he rubbed my tummy and asked how the baby was doing in there.

It hurt to see the sparkles evaporate as he looked me right in the eye and I told him, “The baby is gone.”

It hurt.

It hurt.

It hurt so fucking much.

If I could go back and change it, I would.

But life is unfair. My life will always be an obstacle. My life, in most ways, has kinda sucked.

There was more darkness than light in my short lifetime. More sadness than happiness. More lies than truth. More fuck-ups than proud accomplishments.

Shit, after trying to play God and ending an innocent life, maybe I deserve to die.

Maybe God was testing my faith and after all of that, I failed him.

Maybe because I let Him down, it is meant for me to go.

T
hree hours later
, after putting on a fancy red and white halter dress that Sonny had no problem helping me shop for, a set of gold, dangly earrings and a pair of sandals, Max and I are standing in front of the Eiffel tower.

It’s way bigger than I ever expected. The photographs and movies don’t give this metal tower justice. It stands tall and firm, built on solid slabs of cement. It’s miraculous and I nearly stop breathing as the sun sets behind it.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, staring ahead.

Max steps to my side, placing a hand on his hip. He’s wearing black slacks and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He points up and says, “If you think it’s nice down here, imagine having dinner
inside
of it.”

I gasp, meeting his brown eyes. They glimmer from the sunlight, bold and bright. “You’re serious? Is that why you told me to dress up?”

He puts on a simple smile, grasping my hand. “Come on.”

He leads the way and we enter the elevator with a few other tourists. My excitement can’t be contained. I’m too eager—too ready to be up high. Flying. Free.

Before I know it, Max is leading the way to a door where a hostess awaits us, greeting us in French.

She seats us by the window with a breathtaking view. My heart flutters when I realize how far up we are. I slide across the cushioned booth seats, looking down.

The cars are like tiny ants, the people like specks. I look forward. The sun is even lower now.

“Like it?” Max asks.

“Love it,” I murmur.

He picks up his menu and I do my best to compose myself, picking mine up as well. A waiter greets us, Max orders a bottle of wine and I request a glass of water, and when the waiter is gone he looks at me, a small smile on his lips.

“What?” I ask.

“You look amazing, Shakes.”

“You don’t have to keep telling me that,” I laugh, tucking a few loose strands behind my ear.

“Yes,” he says, “I do. I need you to know that you are still so beautiful.” He shrugs. “I’m still attracted.”

“I tried my best to not look sick.” I pick up the backpack. “But this fella right here kinda prevents it.”

He laughs. “I guess you could do without the backpack and the tubes. Kinda throws off that nice dress, but you’re still gorgeous none the less.”

My laughter fills the space around us. “At least it’s helpful. Can’t complain.”

He nods, lips pressing. “So listen… I know we promised not to bring up the past or anything but—” he looks up, stopping midsentence. He waits for my reaction, waits to see if I will stop him from talking but I don’t. This has been on my mind as well, I’ve just done my best to avoid bringing it up. “I wanted to talk about it. Clear my mind and drop the weight that has been on my shoulders.”

“Okay,” I say, wary. “How about we talk about it once we order.”

“Good idea.”

The waiter returns several minutes later with a bottle of sweet red wine. He pours us each a glass. Knowing I can’t drink it, I thank him anyway and reach for my water. Once we’ve ordered, he takes off again, leaving me and Max at the table.

Alone by candlelight… well, sort of. There are people here. All of them dressed to impress, but none of them are worried about anyone but themselves and their guests.

“How did you even get a spot here?” I ask. “I’m sure this place is always booked.”

“I know a guy who knows a guy. He didn’t mind hooking me up.”

“It’s perfect.”

“I knew you’d love it.” His eyes lock with mine, warm and causing my belly to roll. I look away, keeping my gaze on the candle, cheeks flushed. Max reaches across the short table with his long arms, running a hand down my cheek.

“Max.” I shake my head, my voice wavering. “Don’t.”

“All this time I’ve spent with you, Shannon,” he murmurs, “I just don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“How I was stupid enough to let you go.”

My heart thumps. I don’t blink or speak.

He pulls his hand away, looking down at the white tablecloth. “It’s crazy ‘cause I’m running my own club in Wilmington. I have a nice home and nice cars and I eat well. There is never a day where I go hungry, never a day when I can’t provide for myself… but even with all of that, there is a price. There is always something that ruins it.” He looks up. “That something is how alone I feel. How I think about you every single fucking day, from sunrise to sunset. I can’t stop… which is why I came back to see you.” He releases a winded laugh. “I will tell you I was afraid to come back. I was scared to see you in the hospital.”

“Why?” I whisper.

“Because I didn’t know how I would take it. And because I know you deserve better than what you’re going through.”

“This is my life, Max. It is what it is.”

He blinks, now wearing a pained expression. “I know.” Sitting against the back of his chair, he looks from me to the window on his right. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about what I made you do.”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” I say quickly. “I made the decision. I did it. You weren’t even there.”

“But it was because of me—because you believed I would push you away instead of bringing you in. And I already
had
pushed you away. I was fucking stupid, Shannon.” He’s looking at me, eyes hard. He then leans forward, his face a touch softer. “Don’t you ever think,” he murmurs, “about where we could’ve been if you’d… kept the baby?”

I sigh, dropping my eyes. “I think about it every day.”

“I know you regret it. I could tell you regretted it when you told me it was gone. I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve just manned up and gotten over my grief.”

“Don’t say that,” I hiss. “Don’t. You were close to your parents. You needed to grieve that loss.”

“But that time to myself is what made me lose you.”

“You never lost me, Max.”

He blinks slow, focusing solely on me.

I continue. “Now that I’m sick and unable to carry a child, I do wish that I’d kept it. I wish that I never would have gone to that stupid clinic. I wonder every day if it would have been a boy or girl. I wonder what I would have named him or her…” My eyes burn with unshed tears. “Trust me, I wish I could go back, but I can’t. I live with that regret. I deal with it every day, and it hasn’t gotten easier.”

He nods, lips twisting. “I don’t wanna ask, but I’m curious. Did you and John try for kids when the OP wasn’t too serious?

“Yep,” I breathe, bobbing my head, “we tried. The doctor advised us against it, but he said since I wasn’t on the OPX we could try if we wanted to. He assured me there would be lots of complications for me, but not for the baby. I was willing to make that sacrifice. Unfortunately, each time resulted in a negative pregnancy test. Each time but once, anyway. But that one time I happened to… miscarry about ten weeks into it.” I press my lips and shrug one shoulder as if it doesn’t matter. “It would have been bad to keep trying and carry that baby anyway. A month later I found out I had relapsed.”

“Oh… damn. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” The music fills the silence. I look up but Max is already staring at me, his eyes hooded. “Can I ask you a question?” I sit up straight, putting on a smile.

“Oh, boy,” Max groans, sitting up as well. “By that smile I can tell I’m not going to enjoy answering this question.”

“Whatever,” I giggle. “But I don’t get it… why you never tried to find someone else, I mean. You knew I was marrying John, but you were persistent.”

He thought on that, allowing it to absorb before responding. “I wanted to win you back. Guess I just didn’t have the best of luck.”

“What made you stop trying as hard?”

“Shit, you seemed happy, Shannon. Seeing the pictures of you and him on Facebook made me realize that you truly were. I’d never seen so much light in your eyes. Even when you talk about him now, I see it. It stings, yeah, but that’s when I knew I no longer had a chance.”

I look him over before looking away, unsure of what to say.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he says as if he’s read my mind. “I think I know how you feel… somewhat.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I can tell you still care for me a lot. You just don’t want to admit it because you’re afraid I’ll take it as a sign of you wanting me back.” He picks up his wine and takes a sip.

“I don’t want to lead you on. It would be pointless, given that I’m married and because of the amount of time I have left.”

“Hmm. I see.”

Not too long and the waiter arrives with our meals. Luckily, we ordered light. I devour my pan-fried fish and asparagus, downing the croissants that come along with it.

Max finishes his filet mignon and half the bottle of wine. By the end of dinner, he’s full of nothing but laughter.

“I think you may have had just a little too much wine,” I say, fighting a smile as he plays with his fork.

“Yeah right. I’m good. I feel good. If only you could drink.”

“Ehh.” I shrug. “I’m all right. I don’t really miss drinking.”

“You were pretty fun when you were drunk—not that you’re no fun now.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I pick up my water, taking a small sip.

A new song plays and Max’s eyes light up. He stands, walking to my side and holding out his hand.

I frown, looking up. “What are you doing?”

“I’d like to dance with you…” His eyes are gentle. Comforting. “I promise I won’t ask you to do a jig for me.”

My cheeks blaze as I grab the hand he offers, picking up my jet-pack and tossing it on my shoulder. He helps me put it on all the way then one of his hands goes to my waist, the other holding my left hand.

I sling my arm over his shoulder, tilting my head as he moves to the middle of the floor and begins a slow dance.

Most of the guests have left. Other than two couples eating, we’re practically alone. Max’s eyes never drift from mine. He holds me close, breathing softly. I ignore the way my heart races, the way I feel in this moment.

I can’t deny that I feel alive. I can’t deny that while I waltz with him, I don’t feel sick. I feel like a healthy, normal girl. I can’t deny that Max has an amazing smile or that he smells so good.

“Remember when I told you I was going to turn that one night you gave me into infinity?”

“Yes, I remember. How could I forget?”

He holds my hand tighter, reeling me in even more. “Well, I take that back. This is the night I want to turn into infinity. This is the night that I never want you to forget.”

His face comes closer, our slow dance continuing. His forehead presses on mine, his lips only a breadth away. My breath catches, lips parting. Max’s eyes drop to my mouth, ready to consume me.
All
of me.

He begins to lower his mouth to mine, but in that small amount of time—before his lips can dare touch mine—I think about my life. I think about what we were before and what we are now.

Right now, we are just friends. And right now, I am a married woman in Paris with a man that is not her husband. I am a sick woman, a woman that needs care and attention, yet I’ve spent my time dilly-dallying and roaming a city that is full of adventure.

In this moment, my life comes to a screeching halt.

I pull back, dropping my arms as I take a large step away from Max. My eyes watch his. My body goes numb. I can feel the tears building up, ready to spill, but I remain strong because I would never in a million years do this to myself—do this to John.

“Max.” My voice is low, my eyes hot with emotion. “I—I’m sorry.” I shake my head swiftly. “We can’t do this.”

His hands drop to his sides, face going blank. He wants to speak—most likely apologize but I spare him from embarrassment, walking forward and looking up at him.

“Oh,” is all he says. He runs a hand over the top of his head, releasing a painful laugh as he turns for the table and sits in his chair again.

I follow after him, my steps cautious as I meet by his side. He doesn’t dare look up at me. He focuses on the floor, his face revealing a mixture of disappointment and disbelief.

“Max,” I whisper, kneeling in front of him. My knees hit the floor, my hands grasping his.

“What do you consider me, Shannon?” he asks, voice low.

I study him and he finally looks at me, hurt. “I consider you a close friend.”

“That’s it?” He focuses on my eyes. “Me and you can’t just be friends. You will always mean more to me than that.”

I blow a breath. “I see that now.”

His face is no longer hard. It’s soft, eyes gentle and caring. Seeing it gives me a small ray of joy. For a moment, I thought he’d hate me for stopping him, demolishing his ego. But he doesn’t hate me. He isn’t holding any hard feelings against me.

When I look at him like this, he finally understands exactly where I’m coming from but deep down he wishes things were different.

“Listen,” I sigh, standing up and sitting in the empty chair next to him. “When I decided to come to Paris with you, I was being completely selfish. I didn’t think about the one person that has been with me through the thickest and thinnest. I blink my tears away. “I didn’t think about
John
.”

Max’s gaze darts away, any direction other than mine. I reach forward and grip his face, looking him straight in the eye when I’ve regained his attention.

“I have had so much fun here with you. You’ve done for me what not many would. You are a great person and I of all people know that, but when it comes to this”—I point back and forth between us—“well, we just have to face it, Max. No matter how hard you try, how much I may miss you, or how great we used to be with each other, we’re just not meant to be together.”

Defeat masks his face, his head dropping as tears pool in his eyes.

I lift his head back up, watching the tears run free after he blinks. “I love you, Maximilian Grant. I truly do. But when it comes to my life and all I’ve been through, I believe John is the one I’m meant to be with. John was there when I was hurt and alone. John picked me up—he found me and made me whole again. He made me forget about my childhood and the dark parts. He made me realize that life can be beautiful, and those are only some of the many reasons I fell so hard for him. I love you, but I love my husband more.” His throat works hard to swallow.