by Nicole James
Her eyes lifted to the mountains on the horizon at the end of the street, and she knew where she would go.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Malee texted her sister from the alley behind Thai Garden.
A moment later, the back door opened and her sister’s head poked out. When she spotted Malee, she slipped outside, hurrying over to her.
Where did you run off to?
Aunt Tan’s.
Are you coming inside?
Malee shook her head. Can I borrow your car?
Of course, but where are you going?
I need to think. I’m going to drive up to the ridge, to the spot Max took me—our spot.
Lawan looked to the sky. Don’t stay up there too long, Malee. Please. Be home before the sun goes down.
I will.
Lawan dug the keys out of her hip pocket and then pulled her in for a hug.
***
Twenty minutes later, Malee parked her car on the side of the dirt road and picked the tin box up off the seat. She carried it with her as she walked to their spot. Her eyes lifted to the top branches of the tall tree. They swayed in the wind. She set her palm on the heart Max had carved into the bark, and her fingers moved over the letters. Malee + Max.
They’d been so happy that day.
Turning to look out over the valley, she let her hand drop. It really was quite beautiful up here. She looked toward the ridge, to the grassy spot where they’d had their picnic.
Sitting on the cold grass beneath the tree and leaning back against it, she opened the box and read every note and letter. Some were sweet, some were silly, and some were urgently imploring her to meet him. But they all had one thing in common—they were the letters of a man in love with a girl. She folded them back up, always careful to keep them in the order in which she received them, then returned them to the box and set it aside.
Her eyes lifted to the horizon, and she scanned the view as memories flooded through her from the first time he’d brought her up here. She remembered how they’d lain on a blanket, and she’d fed him grapes, how they’d laughed and told each other all their hopes and dreams, and how they’d told each other those three little words: I love you.
There was a chill in the air as the wind whipped over her, and she pulled her jacket more tightly around herself.
She thought of what had set this ball in motion today to bring her to this spot. The actions of her father, whether there were good intensions behind them or not, were wrong. Could he truly not see that? Could he not understand how it made her feel? Like she was some kind of damaged goods who had to be bartered off to some old widower? She loved her father, but today she was as angry as she had ever been. She wasn’t sure she could even bring herself to talk to him now, not with respect, because inside her there was none of that—just rebellion, anger, and resentment.
Why did she keep trying to please him and do things his way? He never even stopped to consider her feelings. There were things she wanted. She had hopes and dreams just like everyone else. She was no different. Couldn’t he see that?
Up here, she could almost forget all of it.
It felt so good—so good—to be away and free like this. The March wind brushed against her face, carrying the scent of nature. Malee breathed in the fresh, clean air and turned her face up to the rays of the early spring sun, closing her eyes to the brightness.
Her father wanted her to marry a good Thai, but even if he found someone her own age, it wouldn’t matter. None of them would ever make her twist and turn in the darkness of her room, remembering the feel of his lips, the caress of his hands.
Not like Max had.
He’d listened to her, believed in her, wanted to protect her. He’d set her free. He’d given her freedom to talk, to pour out her problems, even to dare to dream.
He’d opened her world up to new experiences. He was freedom from all the expectations and limitations. He was all that she craved alone at night in her bedroom. He made her heart beat in her throat and her hands long to touch him. He was everything to her. And damn it, she wasn’t going to let him go.
A shadow crossed her face, and she opened her eyes to see a dove fly overhead, white against the blue sky. It circled and dipped, almost as if to signal her.
She put her hand up to shade her eyes as she watched it, and right then everything her aunt said made sense to her. It wasn’t complicated; it was simple. Max and her, they loved each other, and nothing else mattered.
Those realizations hit Malee hard, and the sense of freedom it gave her was suddenly so exuberant, so bright, that she laughed. The dove flew toward the sun until she couldn’t see it anymore.
Her hand dropped.
Max. He’s the one I love, she thought. He’s where I belong.
She wanted to live the life she wanted, for herself, not for anyone else, and she was going to, in spite of her parents.
It wouldn’t be easy going against them, but she had no choice. And she realized something else, too. She was going to have to take responsibility for her own happiness, and to protect it fiercely from anyone who tried to take it from her.
She saw the big house across the valley—the O’Rourke’s property.
Today was as good a day as any to beg for forgiveness and maybe start a new life.
She stood, brushed her hands off, and felt the vibration in her pocket, her cell phone notifying her of an incoming text.
She pulled it out and opened the message from Lawan.
Come quick. It’s Aunt Tan.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Max rolled his truck to a slow stop on the shoulder of the cemetery road, parking behind a line of other cars. He climbed out and reached in the back to pull his suit jacket out, then shrugged it on. A large crowd of mourners, some coming in from all over the country, gathered around the green tent that covered the flower-laden casket. Max moved to stand in the back during the quiet graveside service that didn’t last long. It was a blustery overcast day, as depressing as the event itself.
Malee sat with her family in the front row. Once Max locked eyes on her, he couldn’t tear his gaze away. She had her head down, her long black hair falling in a sheet to shield her face as her aunt was quietly laid to rest. She wore a black wool coat that made her look thin and frail as she stood at the end of the service and laid a flower on the casket.
Max was sorry to hear of the sweet lady’s passing. He could still remember the shock of it when Liam had come home that night and told him of the paramedic unit that had been parked in front of the building across the street.
Max had been home, helping Jamie finish up construction on the house he was building, while Liam held down the fort at Brothers Ink.
Max had later heard Malee’s aunt had died in her sleep.
The service wrapped up, and Max stayed frozen in place as the mourners quietly departed, until only the immediate family remained. Malee’s sister put a hand to her arm and gestured toward him. He watched as her eyes lifted and found him on the slight hill, standing alone in his dark suit, silhouetted against the gray sky.
Malee patted her sister’s arm and then stepped past her, walking slowly toward him. He stood stock still, watching her approach, a myriad of emotions warring inside him. She looked lost, out of her depth, and so damn sad. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and hold her. But things had changed between them. A palpable wall had risen, one that held him back. And he hated that. More than anything, he hated the fact that in all this time, she hadn’t come to him, not even when this had happened, and she would have needed him most. Was it gone, then? Did she not need him anymore? Was everything they had dead?
When she got to within a few feet, he signed to her, I’m so sorry about your aunt, Malee. She was a sweet, dear woman.
“Thank you, and thank you for coming. She liked you, Max.”
I liked her, too.
They stared at each other a long moment. A strand of her hair blew across her face, and Max fought
the urge to brush it back before she reached up a finger and hooked it, tucking it behind her ear.
Are you okay, Malee?
She gazed off into the distance, and he could see the stress lines on her face. She looked like she hadn’t been sleeping, and he wondered if she’d been eating. He worried about her, and more than anything, he wished he could lighten this burden for her.
Finally, she replied, shaking her head. “No, but I will be. I think it will take time, probably a long time. She was very dear to me. She believed in my dreams. She made them possible.”
Your shop?
She nodded.
It’s doing well?
“It was. I haven’t… been there in a while. I can’t seem to get in the mood to create anything right now.”
Don’t give up, Malee. Promise me.
She looked at him, her eyes glazing with tears, and attempted a smile she clearly didn’t feel as she nodded. She glanced back toward her family. “I should get going.”
He nodded, feeling absolutely bereft at the thought of her walking away.
“It’s good to see you, Max.”
It’s good to see you, too. It wasn’t what he wanted to say; it wasn’t what he needed to say. But this was hardly the time or place for them to hash out the problems of the past.
She stepped toward him to give him a hug, moving into his arms with a familiarity that almost brought him to his knees. Her head tucked up under his chin, fitting perfectly, just like he remembered. His eyes slid closed, and for the briefest moment it was just the two of them clinging to each other. He held her, breathing in her scent. God, it felt so good to hold her.
It was over all too soon as she stepped back, gave him a shaky smile, and then turned to leave. His hand slid down her sleeve, finally dropping away as she retreated.
Two weeks later—
Max stood at the front window of Brothers Ink, staring across the street at Malee’s shop. It had been closed for several weeks now, ever since her aunt had died.
Jameson moved to stand next to him, following his gaze. Max felt his brother’s eyes on him, but he didn’t turn.
“When are you going to get over her?”
It was a question Max had asked himself a million times. There was no easy answer, so he gave the only one he could. “When I’m sure she’s okay.”
“Are you waiting for her to move on? To find someone else?”
Max shook his head. “I don’t know. I just… want her to be happy again.”
“Even if it’s without you?”
Finally, he turned to face Jameson, letting all the pain on his face show, revealing how much that tore at him. “Yeah, if that’s all that’s left. This isn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.”
“Then do something about it.”
Max let his gaze drift back to the dark store across the street, wondering if asking the woman he loved to choose between him and her family again was even fair anymore.
***
Malee stood at the window in her aunt’s now empty apartment and stared down at Brothers Ink. The movers had left with the last of the boxes and the place was eerily silent. In her hand she held two items: her aunt’s hand-painted parasol that was so dear to Malee and the thick envelope from the Willis, Wagner & Bailey. She’d just come from their office where one of the attorneys had gone over the portion of Aunt Tan’s will that had to do with Malee.
Her dear sweet aunt had left her a quite sizeable amount, along with her parasol and tea set—the box that sat at her feet.
Malee would have the funds to continue her business; her aunt had ensured its future, and with it, Malee’s freedom. She would no longer be dependent on her father or any arranged match he might try to force on her. She wouldn’t be dependent on any man for her survival. She had the funds to do anything she wanted.
But as she gazed down at Brothers Ink, it all seemed like an empty dream. Without the man she loved, it meant nothing. Her aunt’s words whispered in her ear, as if she were standing right next to her, urging her on.
Malee, there is still a chance. But don’t wait too long, my child. Go to him. Now. Right now.
Chapter Thirty
Max cooed at the tiny bundle in Ava’s arms. Little Lila Rose was six weeks old. Jameson was asleep on the couch, having fallen into an exhausted slumber after working long hours to complete the new house for his budding family.
“She’s beautiful, sweetheart.”
“Thank you, Max.”
His eyes lifted to his sleeping brother. “Daddy passed out before baby.”
Ava smiled. “He’s been working so hard. I think I’ll let him sleep.”
A set of headlights flashed across the ceiling.
Ava frowned. “Who could that be?”
Max moved to the window, pulling the curtain back. A compact car rolled slowly up the gravel drive.
Ava peered over his shoulder as the driver climbed out.
“Malee,” Max whispered under his breath.
Ava touched his arm. “It takes a lot of guts for a girl to come to a man like this. Don’t be too hard on her.”
Max let the curtain drop, and he stepped back, his mind whirling through every possible reason she could have for coming here. Don’t get your hopes up, boy, he told himself. It may not be what you think.
There was a soft knock at the door.
Ava stepped over and answered it.
Malee looked surprised for a moment, and then her eyes dropped to the bundle in Ava’s arms and lit up, her mouth dropping open as she pointed to the baby.
Ava grinned and nodded, holding Lila Rose up proudly.
Malee tickled the baby’s cheek but stilled when her eyes moved past Ava to see Maxwell standing stiffly behind her in the living room, his hands jammed in the hip pockets of his jeans.
“Hello, Max. Can I talk to you?”
“Please, come in,” Ava motioned her inside, but Malee shook her head and motioned outside.
“Can we talk out here?”
At last, with a single curt nod, Max yielded. He stepped out onto the porch beside Malee, reluctance written all over him.
Out in the darkness, Max heard the hoot of a faraway owl and his own too rapid, harsh breathing. To the back of the farmhouse, he could see where the land lifted higher, all the way up to the ridge—and the place he still thought of as their spot—now just a black, looming, outline against the shadowy night sky. Finally, he signed to her, How have you been?
“Lonely.”
What was he supposed to say to that?
“I’m sorry about everything, Max.”
I know you are, Malee.
“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
Easy? None of this has been easy.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
He nodded, his throat closing and the muscles in his jaw tightening. Well, if that’s all you came to say… Maxwell signed impatiently.
When she didn’t respond, he leaned against a porch post, his eyes on the horizon, wondering how many more times he was going to have to encounter Malee and pretend he was okay.
“That night I saw you in town… who was that girl you were with?”
Max kept his gaze on the horizon, then finally looked back and signed, No one.
He wasn’t sure where the sudden anger came from. He knew he wanted to forget the disgust and shock and disapproval that had been written with blinding transparency on her face that night as she’d gaped at him through the passenger window. For one split second, under the intensity of her wide, dark eyes, he’d felt branded with shame, and he’d wanted to hide the mark on his neck and the cuffs on his wrists.
Heat and anger tore through him now, coming to his rescue. I saw the look on your face that night. You broke up with me, Malee. Not the other way around. We weren’t together. But I didn’t do anything with her other than a few kisses. There hasn’t been anyone since you. And I don’t know why I’m even telling you this. You have no
right to know anything about what I do anymore. You lost that right.
She stepped back, and he closed his eyes, already regretting the words he’d spewed at her like that. He ran a hand over his head and then signed slowly, Why did you come here?
“I’m sorry, Max.”
For what?
“For everything. I was wrong, Max. So wrong.”
He stood still as a statue, frozen with fear that this was no more than just words. He refused to let himself hope again, and he fought to keep that extinguished flame of hope from sparking to life again. Finally Max’s eyes met hers with a penetrating stare. I want so bad to trust you… to trust you mean it this time.
She searched his eyes. “I have a shop now, Max. I should be happy.”
He nodded. Why haven’t you opened back up?
“You noticed.”
I noticed. Are you back at the restaurant?
She shook her head. “My aunt left me some money. I don’t have to work for my father. I’m not trapped there.”
You were never trapped there. He felt the need to remind her of the fact.
She nodded.
So you’re free now, like you always wanted.
“I have a business that I love. But do you know what I do? I sit in the back room of the dark, closed shop, trying to create something beautiful, something happy and full of life, but I’m not happy. I’m miserable.”
He hung on every word, intently.
“I made a decision. I can sit in that room and make all the beautiful art in the world, but it won’t mean a thing if I don’t have you. So I’m here, baring my heart for you, hoping you won’t throw it back in my face.”
She studied his face intently, but he couldn’t hold her gaze. He didn’t want her to see the hope in his eyes or the fear that he’d be hurt again, so he glanced at the horizon, his jaw tightening. She touched his arm to get his attention, and he had no choice but to look at her.
