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“Can i confess something to you?”
Max was stood with his back to you as he poured drinks at his minibar. He had come home on time for once, which gave you a rare evening alone together to relax and talk. You were lounging with your feet up on the expensive couch that smelt of leather polish and still felt slightly stiff, as though brand new, which made sense considering it was rarely used.
As Max brought you over a brandy, you admired the casual look he was sporting; his jacket was hanging over the top of his armchair and he had rolled up the sleeves of his light blue, pinstriped shirt, his navy tie was loose, he wasn’t wearing shoes so his dark purple socks were on display. You enjoyed seeing him in this relaxed state, uncaring about looking put together as he always had to be outside your home.
Max settled into his chair, leaning back with a heavy sigh and closing his eyes.
“I wonder sometimes if it would be better to disappear. Leave all this behind, take you somewhere nobody knows my name and live out the rest of my life in anonymity.”
You nearly laughed at the thought of ‘Max the civilian’, but something in his voice told you he was struggling with something. You sipped on your brandy and continued to watch him.
“I know it affects you too, darling,” Max looked over to you, raising an eyebrow, daring you to contradict him, “the paparazzi wherever you go, the hyperbolic magazine articles.”
You shook your head, experienced in waving away his concerns about you.
“It goes over my head most of the time,” you assured him. It would get to you at the beginning of your relationship, but you developed a thick skin over time and now it mattered less what a bunch of strangers thought of you.
Max knocked back his drink with a pinched face and came to sit on the other end of the couch you were on.
“Just imagine a small house somewhere in Europe, no excess of anything we don’t need, just the essentials. We go to the shop for our food instead of sending someone, we drive ourselves. Wouldn’t that be simpler?”
You put your drink down, placed your feet in Max’s lap and gave him your full attention.
“What has got you thinking like this?” You asked in concern, reaching over to hold his hand, playing with the large rings on his fingers.
Max heaved a sigh and started stroking patterns onto your clothed legs. Now he was closer you could see he had been biting the nails of the hand you were holding. Something was obviously bothering him.
“My mother called, demanded for the twentieth time that she meet you so she can decide if you are good enough or not.”
You scoffed, not at all surprised. You hadn’t met Mrs Lord but Max had told you enough about her to know she was spawned from the devil himself.
“Then let’s pencil her into the diary, I promise I will be on my best behaviour,” your tone was teasing but you knew the only way his mother was going to leave you two alone was if she met you.
“It won’t be enough. She will come between us and it will only be a matter of time before she pushes you away.” Max’s voice was so quiet you had to strain your ears to hear him. You sat up and moved to straddle his lap comfortably.
“If you think my love for you is so fragile that I would let your overbearing, controlling mother get between us, then you don’t know me at all.”
Max looked equally shocked at the forcefulness in your voice and relieved that you were so certain you could face his mother and come out on top. His large hands rested on your hips, pulling you further into his lap.
“We shouldn’t have to go into hiding to be together, Max,” you slowly ran your fingers through the long strands of his hair as you spoke, seeing the tension in his features relaxing.
“It would be easier,” Max mumbled.
“Things haven’t come as easily to me as they have you and let me tell you, anything worth having in this world is worth the pain and the fight to have it.”
You stared adamantly into Max’s eyes, letting him know you meant every word. You noticed unshed tears but he clenched his teeth in determination and swallowed them away, shooting you a smile that disappeared just as swiftly.
“I suppose it would be impossible to expect me to do my own shopping everyday,” Max teased.
“And I can’t imagine you giving up your Armani suits either,” you joked, chuckling at his scandalised expression.
Max had wobbles like this sometimes, insecurities that you would chase away for him when he confessed them to you. He was a man that had to be ‘on’ any time he wasn’t in the privacy of you and you alone. But you were always there to speak words of wisdom and hold him tight until he was himself again.