Petal [h.s.]

FORTY-SIX - A THOUSAND DEATHS

Max and I were on our worst date ever.

It had been an awful evening and it was all my own fault. Well, technically, it was his fault. If he actually was sent to me by Jessie and meeting me was a set up, then my attitude toward him was completely justified. I barely spoke when I got into his car. I made him turn his music off because it irritated me, I wouldn't let him hold my hand.

Max could immediately sense my mood and was being a sweet angel through it, of course. He kept asking me if I was feeling okay, if I wanted to go home, if I needed anything from him. He wanted so badly to take care of me. I could sense it with every word, with every look. And I just couldn't stop being distant and quiet and sad. I knew I had to talk to him about it.

I was conflicted. I didn't want to lose him and at the same time, the self-destructive little bitch inside of me kept telling me that I should let this implode. That I should go back to Harry while I can still have him, before he gets married and he's gone forever. I wanted Max, I adored him completely, but it wasn't enough to make my feelings for Harry go away.

Not yet, at least.

Maybe if I had met Max down the road, years from now. If I had time to finish what I started with Harry. If I had time to figure out my relationships with my parents and my sister and my ex-best friend. If I had time to figure out my relationship with myself. I could love him and be loved by him and things would be beautiful.

But I rushed into this with my eyes squeezed shut because I felt better with Max than I did by myself. I didn't want to sit alone in my pain, so I clung to him because he let me. Because he was sent to give me something to cling onto... because he was sent by someone who hated me, sent by someone who wanted to hurt me. I wondered if Jessie was planning to have him hurt me as revenge. I wouldn't be surprised.

The idea of this all being fake, of it being a ploy just to get revenge on me left a sour taste in my mouth. I wanted to believe that Harry was just lying to get me back, but I knew deep down that he wasn't. Meeting Max was too much of a coincidence and I refused to think about it after the engagement party mishap. I was too focused on Harry and my feelings for him to think about how Max took me to be traumatized on our first date. And now I knew that he did it on purpose. It hurt more than I could have ever imagined.

"You're not eating." Max said softly from across the table.

I blinked out of my thoughts and looked up at him, realizing that he was right-I hadn't touched a thing. I didn't want to. My stomach was so upset, my chest was tight and I worried I might break down into tears soon.

"I'm not hungry." I whispered, shaking my head, pushing my plate away.

"Arabella, you need to eat." He said sternly, his hand curling into a fist on the table, "C'mon, baby. What's going on with you? You've been so quiet and upset all night."