Indelible Love - Emily's Story

Peter had purposely left me alone with Max so we would ride together to the bar. Jake was wrong to trust him with my well-being. Against all odds—a current girlfriend, an eighteen-month absence, and me dating Jake—Peter seemed to believe that we could still get back together. My head shook thinking about this ridiculous idea.

“Get in,” Max told me as the valet brought the car around.

“Where’s Jennifer?”

“She left a little while ago. She’s working a night shift at the hospital tonight.”

“Oh, that’s right. She’s a nurse. You seem to like girls with homey professions.” We both chuckled as I finished this thought.

I led Max toward my house, which was a few miles away from the hotel.

“Can we stop by my house so I can change? I don’t want to be in this dress the whole night. Also it’s a bit cold.”

“Sure,” he answered, taking off his jacket. “Here, take this for now.”

It felt good to be in his jacket, but the warmth of his scent evoked memories I wasn’t ready to face. We got to my house within minutes, and I could tell by Max’s face, he wondered where we were.

“Do you live here, Em?” He studied the living room while following me toward the bedroom.

“Uh-huh. This is my house.”

Max spun his head around and looked shocked.

“When did this happen? You’re not living with Sarah anymore?”

“Has Charlie not told you anything about me the last year and a half? I bought this house in June. I finally left Sarah’s lair.”

I gave Max a change of clothes and showed him the guest bathroom while I went into my room to change into a pair of jeans and a comfy sweater. Max had another bewildered look, as he had just changed into a tailor-made outfit. It looked nice on him.

“Are these Jake’s clothes?” He had a hard time spitting out those four words. I saw what Max was envisioning. Finding this situation highly humorous, I contemplated letting his imagination aggravate him but thought it would be better to clear the air.

“I bought these to give to you before we broke up. I didn’t have the receipt to return them and felt silly about giving them to someone else, so they’ve been sitting in my closet for a while,” I confessed.

“Oh…” He sounded relieved as he thanked me for the clothes. “Can you give me a hanger for my tux?”

I reached into my closet for a hanger but noticed something had fallen out of Max’s pocket and onto the floor. A small blue felt pouch—something that looked like it belonged in a Tiffany’s box with a ring or some small jewelry in it—screamed for me to pick it up. Before my hand got anywhere near the mysterious item, Max swooped in and shoved it back into his pocket. His abruptness startled both of us. What was in this pouch that had made him so jumpy?

Pain and guilt riddled his face, though I couldn’t understand why. Before I broached the subject, he interrupted my thought. “Hey, Em? You want to go get something to eat instead of going out for drinks? You didn’t eat much tonight.”

The growl in my stomach gave me away. “I am hungry. Where shall we go?”

“How about a bowl of noodles? You’ve always had a weakness for something soupy at a late hour. What time is it? Is the ramen house still open?” he asked.

“I think it’s about 11:00p.m., they should still be open.” A bowl of noodles sounded delicious right now, especially on an empty stomach. “Great idea. You mind driving? I’m a bit tired.”

Before we got into Max’s car, he texted Peter our situation, my number, and my home address. He told him if we didn’t make it to the bar, they’d meet back at my place and go home together. In the twenty-minute car ride, neither of us uttered a sound. Instead, I looked out the window, wondering what we would talk about during our meal if we couldn’t stand a twenty-minute ride together. Max looked over at me, stared briefly and sighed quietly. He was probably regretting the predicament we found ourselves in.

Luckily there was a parking spot right in front of the restaurant, and we sat down immediately at the noodle bar. The server came and welcomed us. “Hey, long time no see! You two haven’t been here in a while.”

“Great…,”I thought. If this weren’t awkward enough, the server recognized that this used to be our late-night food joint back in college. This night wasn’t getting any easier. She didn’t need to ask us what we wanted. She automatically put in an order for two bowls of ramen and an order of gyoza, along with iced green tea and Sapporo on tap. We both started to laugh, realizing we were so predictable. The server helped lighten the mood and we started feeling comfortable with one another again.

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