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Page 90 of Open for Negotiation

If this were a romance novel or a romcom, this is the moment when a power ballad would play over our scene. We’d love each other with all that we had and live happily ever after.

But even as he trails kisses down my neck and lays me on my bed, I know how this story has to end.

Even as he undresses me slowly, minding my arm, and glides his tongue in places that make my toes curl, I know this means something different for me.

When he kneels between my spread thighs and presses inside of me, pumping slowly, cradling my body gently, with nothing but love, and brings me to climax more than once.

I know this is goodbye.

Max

The sun shines brightly over my face, waking me much earlier than I’d like, but the scent of Scarlett on the sheets washes over me and I can’t stay in a sour mood for long.

She invited me to stay with her, to hold her while she slept after we’d made love. She cried for a while, and I stroked her hair. She wouldn’t tell me why she was upset; I didn’t need her to. She was sad and I was here to be there for her.

With my eyes still closed, I stretch my arms over my head, giving my body the sweet release it’s needed since I’ve been nothing but a ball of stress for more than a few days. I roll over to face her, but sit up quickly when I notice the sheets are empty and a piece of paper lies in her place.

I don’t want to read it, because deep down, I know what it says. Her emotions last night are crystal clear now that I sit here, alone in her bed, after making love to her only a few short hours ago.

I pull on my boxer briefs, leaving the note untouched and go in search of her in the small apartment, hoping desperately that the note only says she was going to get us breakfast or something and she’d be back already, in the kitchen, wearing only my shirt, making a cup of coffee.

But no, she’s not.

I’m here alone.

I stride back down the hall and into our bedroom, snatching the note off the bed, sitting on the edge while I read her perfectly handwritten words.

Max,

I’m sorry I had to leave you without saying goodbye.

I knew that if I had to face you, I’d never be able to go through with it.

I’m going back home, back to Tennessee.

I’m leaving you this note and getting in an Uber first thing to go to the airport.

This is all too much for me. It’s too hard. It’s too emotional. It’s too overwhelming.

I never expected to feel the way that I do about you. I never expected to love you.

I told myself after what happened to me in college that I would always put myself first.

That’s what I’m trying to do now.

I wanted you to fight for me, but I realize now how unfair that is of me to ask.

Being with you scares the shit out of me, and I’m not ready for the heartbreak that could be waiting for me at the end of you. Maybe that makes me a coward, I don’t know.

I want nothing but incredible things for you. Don’t forget to be happy, okay? You deserve it.

Scarlett

The knot in my throat has grown three sizes from the beginning of the note to the end. My grip on the thin, soft paper is so tight that it’s starting to crinkle and rip.

No. No. No. No. NO!

I slam my fist onto the nightstand and bolt to my feet, looking around furiously for my clothes. I find my cell phone on the floor next to my pants and dial her number, but then I remember I found her phone in pieces on the kitchen floor last night.


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