The morning passed in a blur. I busied myself with WanderLand tasks, but my mind kept drifting back to Max and the impending conversation. When the response finally came, my anxiety eased enough to trick myself into thinking the conversation would be easy.
Max: Would love to meet up. Cafe Lune at 1?
Café Lune was a quaint, cozy spot tucked away on a quiet street, its charm accentuated by the warm lighting and rustic décor. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet scent of pastries, creating an inviting atmosphere. I had been here once before, lured in by their reputation for the city’s best almond croissants. The flaky, buttery layers had left a lasting impression, and it was a perfect spot for a quiet, uninterrupted conversation.
As I walked into Café Lune, the familiar scent of espresso and pastries offered a small comfort. Max was already there, sitting at a corner table, looking casually handsome as always. His presence commanded the room, and my heart skipped a beat as our eyes met.
“Hey,” I greeted, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach.
“Hi, Isabella,” Max replied, his eyes searching mine. There was a warmth there, but also a hint of caution.
I took a seat across from him, my hands fidgeting in my lap. The initial small talk felt awkward but necessary. We spoke about inconsequential things until the weight of the unspoken filled the space between us.
Taking a deep breath, I broke the silence. “Max, I’ve been doing some thinking about the Mirage Guild and my involvement there. I haven’t made any decisions yet, but I’m considering stepping back.”
He looked at me, his face a blend of understanding and mild surprise. “Oh? I wasn’t expecting that.”
“I’ve just been so wrapped up with WanderLust lately—I landed three new events at my parents’ place alone. It’s getting to the point where I might not be able to give Mirage the attention it deserves. I should’ve brought this up with you sooner,” I admitted.
“I never expected you to stick around forever,” Max said, his voice soft but carrying a weight of acceptance.
My breath hitched. That was the crux of all of this, wasn’t it? Classic Izzy of being flighty and never sticking around in one place for too long, afraid to put down some roots. And Max had seen it from a mile away and I’d proved him right.
“Isabella.” Max’s stern tone forced me to glance up from the swirling caramel-colored liquid in my mug. “Stop swimming around in your head. Talk to me.”
The words tumbled out of me then, a mix of honesty and vulnerability I hadn’t planned on revealing. I told him about my confusion after seeing him with Ana, and how it made me question everything about what we had—or didn’t have. I spoke of my fears, my insecurities about being alone and refusing to settle, and how all of it had clouded my judgment.
I talked about all the big dreams I do have and how I’m afraid I might scare away anyone who wants to be with me because I long to achieve them all right now. I shared my goals for WanderLust and how I really wanted to buy that brownstone in Washington Square and fix it up. How I yearned to get married and throw an amazing party and have babies and have fun.
Max listened quietly, his gaze never leaving mine.
“And so when it came to you, to us,” I said, “I—you’re so much younger than me, Max. You’re at a totally different place in life and you want different things. It’s not fair for me to rush you into being a grown-up just because of where I’m at.”
Max took a deep breath. “I know we didn’t have a traditional courting phase, or whatever it’s called, but if we had, we would’ve talked about these things. I would’ve shared with you that Ana made me feel like I was never good enough, that nothing I did was ever serious enough for her, and how that made me feel like shit.
“I would’ve told you,” he continued, “that I’ve had my grandmother’s ring in a small box in the back of my sock drawer for three years ready to pull it out for the right person. You would’ve discovered that I had to learn how to drywall when I was fifteen because our laundry room flooded into our kitchen and we couldn’t afford to rent it out, so I’m really handy in renos.”
He reached across the table, his hand tentatively covering mine. “We just didn’t get to have those conversations because, well, we were busy doing other things,” he said with a smirk.
I grinned back at him. “You’re right, I didn’t know those things,” I said.
“I know that beautiful brain is going a million miles an hour with all the what-if scenarios that could happen but what do you want?” he asked.
“You’ve been the only person who has been able to shut off the buzzing in my brain, the flutter in my chest when I get overwhelmed . . . seriously, just looking at you eases something here,” I said, tapping my chest.
“I want,” I continued, “to see what doing this life with you would look like.”
Max grinned from across the table, his hands still covering mine. “I’d love to see what doing this life would look like, too,” he replied.
“All I ask moving forward,” Max continued, “is that you talk to me about your concerns, Isabella. I know you can achieve every single thing on your to-do list in life by yourself, but you’ll have way more fun if you share that with someone. Specifically, with me.” He shrugged his shoulders in mock modesty. “I know you’re used to taking care of yourself, but watching you come undone when that beautiful brain finally shuts off has been the highlight of my year.”
Heat flooded my face as I remembered how well Max played that role.
His words, sincere and heartfelt, washed over me like a soothing balm. Maybe we didn’t have all the answers, but the possibility of exploring this—whatever this was—with Max suddenly felt like a risk worth taking.
I intertwined my fingers with his as we stretched across the linen tablecloth. His thumb rubbed small circles over the back of my hand as the nerves in my belly settled. A piece of me, deep down inside, was telling me that this man was made for me. His calmness helped reflect my anxiety away long enough so I could get a chance to think straight.
In his ease, I was able to see clearly and breathe calmly. He anchored me when my brain wanted to sail me away in a wind of overthinking. He’d been nothing but supportive of every idea I’d shared or dream I revealed. I was committed to not letting my brain trick me out of this one again.
