Chapter 40 Ella

Chapter 40

Ella

I sit on the handmade bench as the sun sinks behind the clouds, leaving splashes of fuchsia and burnt orange behind.

"We should find a clearing in the woods and make it our own special hideaway. Dad can help me build a bench for us to sit and read books together. We can talk about our day at school and watch the butterflies flutter by. It'll be our secret hiding spot."

My fingertips trail over the wood grains, lingering on the jagged carving: MANNING, 2013.

He did it.

He made the bench, just like he said he would all those years ago.

Tears rush to my eyes. I wonder how long he sat here, waiting for me to come back, to sit with him and read storybooks together and watch zebra butterflies flutter their wings. I told him I'd see him the next day, but my father turned that one day into ten years.

I inhale a shuddery breath as I glance at my phone.

Max: Meet me in the clearing at sunset.

I'm here.

I'm ready.

I don't know what comes next, but it has to be something. Healing only comes with a forward trajectory.

My head snaps up when I hear footsteps approaching. Branches cracking, leaves rustling. A moment later, Max appears, towering in the entryway of our secret hiding spot in navy running shorts and a light-gray tee, his eyes glittering in the fading daylight.

I'm already close to tears. I'm not sure how I'm going to get through this.

But I'm here.

I'm ready.

He steps inside, his throat rolling as he swallows. "Hey, Sunny."

The nickname almost breaks me in two. My bottom lip quivers so I stab it with my teeth. "Hey." I watch as he lingers for a moment, eyes on me, hair tinted with pink and orange. I scoot over on the bench, leaving space for a second person to sit beside me. If that person wants to. "I was surprised to hear from you," I confess.

He nods slowly, eyeing the vacant space on the bench as he takes another step forward, all the way into the clearing. "Sorry I've been distant. My dad's diagnosis came in right after everything happened with…" He swallows, stalls his feet. "It's called Lewy body dementia. There's no cure. I'm trying to figure out what to do, how to help him. There are treatment plans available, facilities that can care for him, but…I don't know. I'll need to figure out a way to collect an income. Chevy offered to bring me in on a house flip he's working on outside of town. Maybe I can do that."

I stare at him, dumbfounded. Heartbroken.

"God…Max," I murmur. "I'm so sorry."

"It is what it is. I'll figure it out." Shrugging, he gazes back at me, trying to hold it together. "I remember building that bench with Dad," he whispers, changing the subject. "We started it that same night. After you left the park."

I blink back tears. "Really?"

"Yeah. It was before Dad's accident. Before Mom left, before you left." He swallows, his jaw tight. "I think…I think that was my last really good day. Until you came back to Juniper Falls and stole my heart for a second time."

My brows wrinkle, a rock lodging my throat.

Max shakes his head. "No…that's not true. You never gave it back in the first place."

I dip my chin, the rock becoming a boulder. "We had one magical year together when we were kids. We were so young."

"It's really something, isn't it?"

"What?" I breathe out, lifting my head.

"Innocence." His gaze retreats from mine momentarily before floating back. "It's so fleeting, right? But, God —it's life-changing. Gone in a blink but powerful enough to shape every moment after. Every love story, every dream. We can't get it back once it's left, but we hold on to everything it gave us at the time," he says, emotion fusing each word. "I never let go of you, Ella. I thought I was an entirely different person when you returned, but I wasn't. Seeing you again felt like coming home." Max takes another step forward and drops to his knees in front of me, taking my hands in his. "Young love…"

I finish for him, tears traveling down my cheeks. "The purest fucking kind."

A smile stretches through the melancholy as he dusts his thumbs over my knuckles.

I glance over his head and out through the clearing opening. The sky grays before my eyes, the wind picking up like an omen. A sharp stab to innocence.

Color drains from the sky and thunder crackles in the distance.

Gunshots tears holes in sweet reveries.

Everything slams back into me, reminding me of all the things I long to forget. But there's no forgetting.

Letting go of Max's hands, I stand from the bench and move around him, staring out at the lake as the water ripples and churns. I fold my arms with a shiver. "I don't know how to move forward from this," I admit, my words aimed at the sky, at the lake, at him. "I don't know how to heal. Where does healing come from, anyway? Time? Therapy? Long walks and longer talks?" I shrug, feeling hopeless. "None of that feels like healing. It just feels like forcing happiness back into your life after it was ripped away from you."

"What other choice do we have?"

"I don't know. I don't think all the books or advice in the world can put our pieces back together." When he doesn't respond, I walk ahead, out into the woods. Warm wind sweeps my hair up as the treetops undulate overhead. "With every ounce of healing comes another hard blow. One step forward, two steps back. Maybe some people aren't meant to heal or overcome."

I feel him come up behind me as a few wayward raindrops slip from the clouds.

"Sunny," he whispers to my back.

I whirl around.

As we stare at each other, my bitterness heightens. Not at him but at life. At life's cruel gift . "How can you even look at me?" I wonder breathlessly. "How are we standing here talking about love and innocence and hope after everything that just happened?"

His expression falls as he repeats, more brokenly, "What other choice do we have?"

"There's always a choice, Max. Always."

He steps forward, body taut with tension. "You're right. McKay made a choice when he tried to force himself between your legs. He made a choice when he let you fall off a fucking cliff and when he walked away without calling for help, leaving you for dead." Anger and resentment flicker in his eyes. "Jonah made a choice when he stormed through my front door with a gun and shot my brother in the chest. He made a choice when he took justice into his own hands—justice for you . Every choice is a ripple. Every choice has a domino effect," he bites out. "And now, we have a choice. You and me. What's it going to be, Ella? How are you going to alter our next chapter? Where are you taking us?"

I gawk at him with wide, glazed eyes and swing my head back and forth. "I… It's not just up to me. What do you want?"

"I want to kiss you. That's what I want."

His words freeze me. My heart kicks up speed as the rain sprinkles down, dampening my hair. "That won't fix anything."

He shrugs. "Maybe not. But it's what I want."

"I don't think you know what you want. It's impossible to think clearly right now. I think…I think we need a break," I croak. "You were right when you said you needed space. Everything is too cloudy, murky. Messy."

"So, we clean up the mess."

"It's not that simple."

Letting out a hard breath, he glances down at the wet leaves and clenches his fists. "Fine."

"Fine?"

"Yeah. Fine. If that's what you want, we'll take a break."

"It's not about what I want. It's about what we need."

"Sounds like we need different things," he says. "I had space and I missed you like fucking crazy. No, scratch that—I had space for the last seven months when you left me stranded all alone in love with you and didn't tell me why. Fuck space. It's not what I want or need. All I need is you." He slams a flat palm over his heart. "You're the only thing that will repair this goddamn hole in my heart."

"I'm not the answer. I'm not—"

"You're my answer, Sunny."

"My brother killed your brother!" I shout, voice pitching over a roll of thunder.

He swallows hard, eyes flaring. "And we're not either of them. You're Ella and I'm Max. Why can't that be enough?"

"It's not. It can't be," I yell back. "McKay is dead because of Jonah."

"McKay did something unforgivable to you."

"He didn't deserve to die!"

"And neither do I!"

My face crumples as the rain splashes across my hair and cheeks. "Max…"

His chest heaves, body trembling, eyes darkening along with the sky. He scrubs both hands over his face and hair, shaking his head as he slams the heels of his palms to his eyes. "Fuck…sorry. You're right." Max stands there for a beat in the same position, only, his headshake morphing into a nod of acceptance. "You're right. Take all the time you need."

When he swivels away from me, I panic. My chest implodes with regret. I open my mouth to call him back, but nothing comes out.

So I race after him, grab him by the arm, and spin him around.

He stares down at me.

I whisper his name on the exhale, my heart bursting from the weight of it all. "Max."

He doesn't hesitate.

Our mouths crash together on our next breath.

Rain, tears, pain, love.

I fist his T-shirt with both hands as his arms wrap around me and yank me flush against his chest. His tongue pushes inside and I open willingly, longingly. We moan in tandem as I arch back, pulling him closer, his hands keeping me from tipping over.

No more words. No more talking, rehashing, or wallowing.

Only this.

Max and Ella.

Still holding me with one arm, he drags a hand to the side of my face and cups my cheek hard, his thumb tugging my jaw. I open wider. I kiss him harder. Everything blurs: the past, the present, the future. Rainwater sluices us as his tongue lashes mine and my hands lower to his hips.

He walks me backward. Our feet slide in wet leaves, puddles splashing with each clumsy step. We reach the clearing opening and he spins me around before collapsing down on the wooden bench and yanking me forward. Slick fingers dip underneath the hem of my halter top and drag it up my body, pulling it over my head. I gasp when the breeze kisses my skin. My wet hair slaps across my shoulders, my bare breasts spilling free and glimmering with rainfall. Max's breath hitches on a deep groan as he buries his face between them, his tongue flicking out, and then he moves to take a nipple in his mouth, sucking roughly.

My legs shake underneath me as I watch him move, an animalistic growl teasing his throat. I fist his hair and pull, desire pounding between my legs.

I climb onto his lap, my knees caging him in as he grabs my ass and thrusts his hips upward. His hard length stabs me through his running shorts and I don't think before sliding my shaky fingers under the waistband and tugging at his shorts.

Max lifts up briefly. The shorts slide down his thighs.

Frantic with bottled-up pain and lust, I wiggle my way out of my leggings, pulling one leg free. I mount him again, the leggings hanging off one calf as I reach down to fist his erection while my arm curls around his neck for balance and I grab a fistful of his hair.

Max cranes his neck back as my hand squeezes and strokes him. "Fuuuck," he grits out, face dropping to my breasts again, a nipple catching between his teeth.

I whimper, fiery tingles racing south. My knees shake as I try to stay steady, lifting up slightly and lining him up against me.

Tension races between us. An achy, breathless beat.

My eyes fall to his. They're hooded, half-lidded, as they lazily float up to meet mine.

I lower myself down onto him.

I feel him breach me, fill every inch of me, and when he's halfway inside, I wrap both arms around his shoulders and drop down all the way.

We both let out a loud, tapered moan, putting the sky's thunder to shame.

My hands clasp at the nape of his neck, nails gouging the skin. "Max," I mewl, a high-pitched, raspy slew of syllables. He's fully inside me, to the hilt. We are joined, connected, completely entwined. My barrier was broken, so there's no physical pain, yet tears rush to my eyes as the moment hugs me with desperate, shaky arms and squeezes tight.

I squeeze him in return, holding his face to my chest as I lift up then lower my hips.

I do it again and again.

He growls, groans, panting through the rhythm.

"Ella." He hisses my name, his arms twined around my body, one hand cupping the back of my head, fingers sifting through my hair. His other arm slides up and down my back, feeling my movements. Guiding them.

I need to feel more of him, so I grab at his T-shirt and try to yank it off him. Max holds me up with one arm while the other reaches behind his back, snatches the shirt by the collar, and hauls it over his head.

Skin to skin.

Chest to chest.

Heart to heart.

I press forward as I rock, my breasts smashing against his chiseled torso. I move faster, glancing down between us and watching as he slides in and out of me, up and down. When I lift up, almost all the way, the sight of him wet with my desire sends shivers down my spine. My pulse is on fire, my blood pumping hot.

I slam back down and he trembles in my arms, his breathing escalating.

As I rise again, our foreheads clank together and we both watch as my movements pick up speed and he thrusts up off the bench, chasing me.

My neck arches back and I ride him hard. Fast. Frenzied and reckless, so close I can feel the electric swell.

"Fuck, Ella… fuck , keep going," he pants, latching onto my hip bones, his fingers bruising as he rocks into me. "Feel how much I want you. Need you. God, you're perfect." His mouth hangs open, his eyebrows tightly knitted, as he stares down at our joining, our bodies slapping together while rain slaps at the earth all around us. "I'm gonna come in you," he groans. "Fuck, I'm close."

His words fuel me, set me aflame.

One of his hands falls between us and he rubs me with his thumb, taking me with him.

"Oh God," I whimper, head falling back, damp hair swinging. I feel it climbing, clawing, cresting. "Max…"

"Feel me, Ella," he rasps, forehead dropping to my chest. "Let it go. Let it all go."

I grind into him, and when he sucks my nipple into his mouth again, I break. I shatter into infinite pieces and land among the stars. Lightning streaks across my vision as white-hot ecstasy carries me away and then brings me right back home.

I collapse against him, boneless and thunderstruck, as Max grips my hips hard and rams into me two more times before tensing, shuddering, and letting out a feral groan with his face smashed between my breasts. I feel him empty inside me, releasing. Releasing everything.

Breathing heavily, he stays pressed against me as he comes back down. His hands slide up and down my back, one of them twirling my wet hair while we both process the last five minutes.

We lost our virginity.

He gave himself to me, and I gave myself to him, in the exact same spot we handed each other our hearts over a decade ago.

He's still inside of me as his head slowly lifts and his lips sprinkle kisses to the breadth of my chest, all the way up to my collarbone. I cradle his face between both hands, grazing his stubble, before angling his face up to mine.

We stare at each other for a few tangled heartbeats before I lean down to kiss him. Softly, gently. I don't think it's a goodbye, but as our tongues flick and our lips move, it almost feels like one. Emotion catches in my throat and I kiss him harder, hanging on to whatever we have left.

When I pull back, tears are in his eyes. Shining, gleaming, reflecting everything I'm feeling.

My lips quiver as I press a kiss to his forehead then rest my head on his shoulder. "Where do we go from here?" I whisper hoarsely. My lips brush the side of his neck as I wait.

And I wait.

Max squeezes me tighter, still sheathed inside me.

Then, on a frayed inhale, he croaks out three words that bring me to tears.

"I don't know."

***

An hour later, Brynn drives me over to the local pharmacy. I purchase the morning-after pill and chug it down with a bottle of Gatorade in one of the empty aisles with colorful boxes of cereal as my witnesses.

Brynn finds me a few minutes later, one palm clutching an eye-shadow palette. She approaches me with a smile and slides a loving hand up and down my arm. Sighing, she drops her temple to my shoulder. "Are you okay?" she asks.

I cap the Gatorade and try to catch my breath as I stare blankly at a box of Cap'n Crunch. Blinking slowly, I glance down at my muddy shoes and still-damp leggings, closing my eyes and holding in my grief. Then I whisper back, echoing Max's words, "I don't know."