Love Me Like You Mean It

by Jaime Russell

  “Hungry?” Reagan asks me.

  “Not really.” We walk hand in hand to my truck.

  “I’m so glad that you’re hungry, because I’m starving.”

  “What are you hungry for?”

  “Food.” Reagan laughs at her own joke. I drive her to the grocery store because I decide that I need to keep my hands busy so I’m going to cook for her. We’re walking through the store, talking about silly things that are different from here and Miami when I run into Emily, a one-night stand that became the reason I don’t do relationships. She’s a stalker and was constantly trying to get me to get away from Abby.

  “Max, how are you?” Emily slithers up next to me.

  “Emily.” My tone is flat and not wanting to engage.

  “I heard you moved away, what are you doing here?”

  “Spending a week back here with my girlfriend while visiting with friends. If you don’t mind, we need to be going.”

  “Girlfriend?” Emily repeats really slow, like I’m an idiot. I don’t have time with her or her antics. Reagan smiles at Emily as we keep walking. “Problem?” I ask Reagan who walks a little faster than me.

  “No,” Reagan says and keeps on walking. This woman is constantly surprising me. We check out and head back to Rob’s for dinner.

  I look into the rearview mirror, and I lose it. My chest feels like someone has their hand wrapped around my heart. I’m feeling hollow, like a shell, completely empty. I have nothing left to do but let out a loud sob as I lean into my steering and cry for all the what could have been. Thomas is gone. My conscience, the man who makes me want to be better and do better is gone. I’m never going to hug him, hear him, laugh at his corny jokes, or tell me about life. I lost the greatest man I ever knew.

  Reagan

  Max is sitting in the driver’s seat crying on his steering wheel. I’m at a loss as to what to do, so I do what I feel I should: I slide over to him and grab a hold of him to let him lie on my lap to cry. I play with his hair while he cries. I don’t know what to do for him but to help him grieve. Max’s breathing levels out after thirty minutes of crying. I think he fell asleep, but he starts moving around to wipe his face off.

  “Thank you,” Max says to me as he kisses my nose. He starts the truck, and we drive to Rob’s house where we unload our groceries. “I’m going to take a quick shower.” Max’s tone is flat and void of any emotion. I’m worried about him and not sure where to go from here. I hear the shower running as I put away the food. I’m not to cook because he told me that he wants to do this so I turn on the TV. It’s been about fifteen minutes, so I decide to go check on Max.

  My heart breaks walking into the bathroom as I see Max standing in the shower fully clothed. I notice that the water is on cold so I adjust it to warm before removing my clothes to step in with him.

  “Max, you’re shivering. Let me help you out of these wet clothes.” I start to take his shirt off, and he’s running on instinct. Max lifts his arms as I struggle to get his wet shirt off. I toss it on the floor with a plop then reach for his belt buckle. Max stands there staring at nothing in particular. “Lift your leg so I can remove your pants and boxers, love.” I smack his leg lightly to get his attention. Max is robotic in his movements, and it hurts my soul because I don’t know how to help.

  I look around the shower for a washcloth and shower gel. I start with his back, ass, and back of his legs. I turn him around to face me so I can wash the front of him. Our eyes connect, and I see so much sadness. The man that I've grown to love and need over the last few days needs me, but how do I help him? I wash him quickly trying now to be sexual with him because this is about letting him know that he isn't alone. I shut the water off and help him out of the shower. I towel dry him off and he walks into the bedroom area of this studio apartment to throw on a pair of green pajama bottoms. I throw my hair up into a messy bun then try to find something to eat.

  “Let me cook for you.” Max is standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders. He kisses the back of head.

  “How about we order some pizza and curl up with a movie on TV? Tomorrow we can cook this wonderful meal together. I'm tired so not sure if I can wait for the baked potatoes and steak to be ready.” I hope he doesn't see behind my lies; he needs to sleep. He nods and goes to his phone to order a large pizza. We lie on the couch together, flipping through the stations and come to find Thor on so we leave it there. Halfway through the movie, I go pay the pizza delivery guy while Max stays on the couch staring off into space. I grab napkins and set the stuff down on the coffee table when I see Max playing with something in his hands. “What's this?” I ask Max as he hands me the envelope.

  “Thomas gave that to me earlier today. I'm supposed to read it after he died.” Max stares at my hand holding it like it's covered in spiders.

  “You going to read it tonight?” Max shakes his head. “You know you can't put it off like you did with the other letter. So tomorrow we go to the liquor store and buy some whiskey to read them.” I wink at him, and he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

  We eat pizza in silence, but the movie doesn't hold our attention, so I suggest we get to bed early. I send a quick message to Jonathan to let him know that I love him and that I'll talk tomorrow, but with Max's friend passing away, I needed to be with him tonight. I turn my phone on silent so Max can sleep in peace. I'm lying on my left side facing Max who is staring at the ceiling.

  “When my mom died, I didn't feel this way. I don't know why.”

  “Max, your biological parents were not good people, you loved them, yes, but you had a bond with Thomas. He taught you that you’re worth a damn, that your life matters. Thomas showed you what a parent was supposed to be like, and now that parent is gone.”

  “My instinct is to call him up to discuss it.”

  “You can discuss it with me. I'm not going anywhere.” I lay my head on Max’s chest to listen the sound of his heart. The thumping of his heart is a sound that I crave like a drug. I need to be listening to it or feeling it with my hand. Max pets my hair as I fight to keep my eyes open. I don’t know how long I was asleep for, but all of a sudden, I wake up in a panic, feeling like someone needs me. I reach for Max but he isn’t in the bed, so I sit up to see his head peeking up from the back of the couch. He’s drinking something because I see the silhouette of a glass and can hear the clink of the ice. The panic feeling is still there, so I send a quick text to Nic, noticing that it’s 2:30 AM, so I know she’s still awake to make sure Jonathan is okay. My phone lights instantly letting me know that he’s good, sleeping, and having fun with her boys.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” I ask as I put my hand on the back of the couch to easily sit on the arm of it to see what Max is up to. I notice that he has two letters in his hands. “Max?” I ask with concern.

  “I couldn’t sleep. Did I wake you?”

  “Do you want to read them now?” I point to the letters.

  “In my life, I was given three fathers: two have died while one is fighting for his life. I spent the last year hating him. What is wrong with me that everyone leaves me?” I climb into his lap so we are face to face.

  “Nothing is wrong with you. Life happens, circle of life, and whatever clichés are out there about death. People come into our lives, and not everyone is meant to stay forever. They stay forever in our hearts and memories. It would be amazing if people could stay forever, but how would learn from their mistakes and learn from loss?”

  “Life sucks.” The corner of Max’s lips starts to turn up into a smile.

  “Whose letter do you want to read first?” I ask with hesitation.

  “My bio dad, I guess. I’ve had it the longest.”

  “Let me makes us some hot tea before we get into all these goodbyes and words from the past.” I get up to get the tea started as I wait for the tea kettle to warm up. I look up to see Max. Max’s eyes are heavy with guilt as his shoulders sag like he has the weight of the world on them.

 
Max

  Breathe in.

  Breathe out.

  Reagan’s in the kitchen making tea which I hate, but the thought is there. Besides Abby and Sarah, I’ve never had a female care about me like this. The sex is great with her, and when I’m with her, I have to be touching her or close to her. When she isn’t around, I feel like I can’t breathe and I’m missing a part of me. I’ve never felt like this before, and I don’t want it to end. I truly love her and want to be that man she deserves. She hands me a cup of scotch and some ice while she drinks her tea. “You’re really not a tea drinker, and I figured scotch would be a better choice for you.” She winks as she snuggles into me. I put my arm around her to feel her closer to me.

  “Why did you become an architect?” I shake my head in disbelief. We’re about to start reading a letter from my dad and she wants to know about my career choice.

  “What?”

  “Do I need to repeat my question?” Reagan says with a smirk as she sips her tea.

  “No, I can remember your question.” I kiss the top of her head. “I liked to draw when my parents had their parties. I drew my dream house which turned out to be where the superheroes would come to protect me.”

  “Do you still have the drawing?”

  “No, it went missing after I showed my mom. I was like five years old when I drew it. She would tell me that dreams were for suckers. I never forgot what it felt like drawing that picture and putting my dreams on paper. The older I got and found out that drawing buildings was a real thing, I looked into what I needed to do.”

  “What did it feel like, drawing your dream house?”

  “Freeing. My horrible parents couldn’t control me, and I had a say in what I wanted. I felt safe.”

  “Remember that feeling when you read this letter. Remember, he can’t hurt you. You are Max Stephens, my hero, my love” She kisses my lips with tenderness. It isn’t a long kiss that would normally lead to me taking her then and there but a more loving kiss. I think that I like these kisses better. She breaks away from me and smiles. I’m looking into her eyes, and I wonder if some day that I could see what she sees when she looks at me.

  “Let’s get this over with.” I tear into the envelope and a set of keys with a “We-Store-It-4-U” keychain with locker number 227 written on the back falls out and onto the floor. Reagan picks up the key and holds on to it for me. I clear my throat to start reading, and I feel a lump in my throat looking at the shaky hand writing on the pages before me.

  Son,

  You are getting this because I’m dead. There are no words that can make you feel better about what a shitty father I became and how sorry I am for the way things happened. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I was a horrible husband and an even worse father. When your mother told me she was pregnant, I couldn’t wait to become a father. We got clean for the first time in the three years that your mother and I were together. I was working full time as a security guard in this very prison. Your mom was working on getting her degree in teaching. Life was good for us. You came into the world and I never felt a love like that before. You were the reason for us to be clean and work so hard to provide you with a good life. You were wanted and loved. I look back on those seven years I had with you and I hate myself for it. You are not the reason why we changed, drugs were more powerful and your mother couldn’t control her desire for it. Once she started using again, I started too and life spiraled out of control.

  Thomas and Jack are good men and I thanked God every day that you had two strong and wise men guiding you through life and teaching you what a real husband and father should be. You deserve to be loved the way I loved your mother. Your mother was my whole world, and I would get lost in her eyes all the time. I hate myself that I wasn’t strong enough for the both of us when it came to the drugs. I don’t want you going through life not knowing what love is and having a love worth fighting for. Thomas would come see me monthly once I got cleaned and came to grips with the fact that I was to blame for your mother’s death, I was weak. Thomas told me how well you were doing, showing me pictures as you were growing up. He made sure that I didn’t miss out on your life. I thanked him every time he came to see me.

  I’m sending you a storage key. Your childhood is in there; baby pictures, clothes, letters and cards, plus your drawings. There are also important papers in some folders.

  By the time you read this, I’ll be gone and buried somewhere. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me but know something that I learned while attending the church in here. Forgiving me doesn’t make you weak but it helps you heal so you aren’t burdened with the past. Also, know that you were wanted, loved and cherished. I know we didn’t show it but believe me, you were.

  Love, Dad.

  “I was wanted,” I whisper as the tears start to sting my eyes. I spent my whole childhood not feeling loved or wanted but to read the words that I was wanted guts me.

  I jump up from the chair to get dressed. “What are you doing?” Reagan grabs my shirt from me.

  “Getting dressed so we can go to the storage unit.”

  “Baby, it’s almost four, we need to sleep for a little bit then we’ll go. There might not be any lights there and we need them to see.” I nod. “Thomas’s letter or sleep?”

  “Sleep. Get naked and under the covers.” Reagan raises her right eyebrow. “I need to be buried inside you.” I throw her over my shoulder just to toss her on the bed so I can spend the next couple of hours making love to her.

  Reagan

  I roll over from my back to lie on my side and groan in pain. Last night, Max was in a different frame of mind, and I let him use my body to check out of reality. The pain he inflicted on me felt amazing and is something that I might want to continue when we get back to Miami. I smile thinking about the future and knowing how amazing it will be having Max in my life. I’ve fallen, and I don’t ever want to get up.

  My phone starts to chime, and I see it’s FaceTime from Jonathan. I look to see that I’m wearing pajamas. I must have gotten dressed during the night. “Why aren’t you in school? It’s almost noon.”

  “I got nervous when you didn’t call me this morning. I ran to the bathroom during my lunch period to check on you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “How is Max? Uncle Shawn was talking about how close he was to Thomas.”

  “I’m okay, dude.” Max jumps onto the bed making me laugh as the phone flies out of my hand. I grab the phone and Jonathan is laughing. “Get to class and call us later.”

  “I love you, Aunt Reagan.”

  “I love you too, Jonathan.” We say good bye, and I put the phone on the table then turn to Max. “How did you sleep?”

  “I slept amazing, how are you feeling?” Max gets on top of me, putting my hands above my head. I raise my head to try to kiss him, but he moves his head away so I can’t reach him.

  “I’m sore but amazing.”

  “I didn’t freak you out with the biting, spankings, and tying you up?” Max licks my neck and slowly kisses the wet spot on my neck, and I moan, moving my head to the side so he can have better access to me.

  “No, you didn’t freak me out. I was nervous at first but …” I blush and he stops. “And?” he asks me with a smile on his face, and this time it’s reaching his eyes. “I’d like to explore more of that in our relationship.” Max rips off the blanket and then pulls my pajama boxers off of me. He stands to find a condom and slides it onto his hard erection. I don’t know what it is about watching a man putting on a condom, but that is probably one of the sexiest things to watch.

  Before I get to say something, he is in me and pounding into me while he’s controlling my hands. My legs are wrapped around his waist and raising my hips to get him deeper inside me. “Oh, my God, Max. Faster.” Max puts his free hand over my mouth.

  “Shh, little one.” I keep quiet and moan into his hand as he moves. I listen to the sound of our breathing, our bodies hitting each other as he pounds into me
. Max removes his hand from my mouth as I scream out in pleasure as my orgasm takes over my body. My insides are clutching onto his dick as my eyes roll into the back of my head. My back arches up as my hard nipple meets with Max’s teeth and tongue. Max bites down, and I scream out in pain as he comes. He collapses on me. “Wow,” is all I can say, and Max mumbles something incoherent. He grimaces in pain as my pussy walls clench and his still half-erect dick slides out of me. I curl into him as he lies there trying to get his breathing and heart to calm down. I kiss his sweaty chest. “You okay?” Max asks as he moves my hair out of my face.

  “Better than okay.”

  “I want to spend all day in bed with you, but I need to check on Amanda, and I want to get to that storage unit.”

  “A quick shower then off to the storage unit.” We get up and shower together then head off to the storage unit but not before hitting the drive-thru since all this hot, amazing sex has made me hungry. We eat in silence as we travel down the highway to part of Max’s past.

  Pulling into the storage unit, we carefully look for the unit number. We find it, and I get out but notice that Max is still in the truck. I walk around giving him some time alone. Max is hunched over the steering wheel with his head resting on his arms. My heart breaks for him as he finds out that he was wanted, loved, and cherished by two people who did everything in their life to let him know that drugs were their main focus. I grab my cell phone from the back pocket of my jeans and start scanning my contacts. Who can I call that will know what I need to do or say to him? I find Abby. The phone rings, and I wait for her to answer.

  “Hello?” Abby answers breathing hard.

  “Abby, are you okay?”

  “My phone was in the bedroom and I was in the living room. It was a long walk. Everything okay?” I hold in my laugh because I’ve been in their apartment, and it’s about five feet away. I fill Abby in on the letter from his biological dad.