Part 2
Max Evans slammed the door of the rented apartment, calling out as he threw the pizza box onto the sofa in the living room. "Soup's on! Get out here you guys!"
He could hear the yelling coming from the second bedroom Michael had lugged the TV and VCR into two days before, telling Max that he had the responsibility to ensure that Ben caught up on his TV as quickly as possible. "To fit in with the other kids Maxwell," Michael had explained in all seriousness. Max had just nodded, trying hard not to laugh.
"HOLY CRAP! THAT WAS AMAZING!"
Max rolled his eyes at the voice emerging from the bedroom. Nice to see [I]some[/I] things hadn't changed. Apparently Michael was already filling Ben in on some of the finer points of the English language.
He threw his jacket over the back of a chair in the kitchen, grabbed some plates, the Tabasco bottle that was sitting on the table, and the pizza as he walked back through the living room, and went to join his best friend and his son.
Michael was sprawled on the bed, the remote control in his hand. Max eyed him in amusement as he pointed at the screen, talking to the boy sitting beside him. "See, that's when Gretzky scored the game winning goal to take the Cup."
"He's amazing." Ben replied. "But I want to see that Selanne goal again."
Michael was nodding in approval. "Yeah, that guy had some moves in his day. You've got taste kid."
"Ice hockey Michael?" Max asked, raising an eyebrow as both Michael and Ben turned their heads to stare at him. "You did tell my kid that we don't usually have it in New Mexico?"
"Hey, just because we're in the desert, doesn't mean the kid can't appreciate the coolest game on Earth." Michael retorted as Ben said "Hi Dad." Michael pointed the remote at the TV again, shutting the screen off.
"Hey!" Ben exclaimed, looking annoyed. "I want to watch that!"
"Sorry kid. It's time for the pizza." Michael replied, standing up and grabbing the box from Max. "This is an important component of your earthly education. Right after cereal, pizza is the most significant food you're going to encounter on this planet."
Ben looked interested. But then, Max reflected wryly, Ben had been interested in absolutely everything Michael had told him since they had met the week before. In Ben's eight year old eyes, Michael Guerin was the essence of humanity. He wanted to be exactly like him, Lord help them all.
Max settled into a chair next to the bed, grabbed a slice of pizza and dumped a liberal dose of Tabasco on top. He bit in, closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the blast of flavour that greeted him.
God, had he missed Tabasco.
The three guys munched away at their pizza in companionable silence for several minutes before Michael spoke, his mouth full. "So, is the kid all registered?"
"Yeah." Max replied, wiping his hands on a napkin, then handing one to Ben, who was starting to smear his greasy hands on the blankets on top of the bed. "You start tomorrow kiddo."
Ben didn't reply, just glanced at Michael to see what he had to say about school. "Did you meet his teacher?" Michael asked. Max wondered at the weirdly chipper way he said it. Michael had changed since Max had been gone, but not [I]that [/I] much. Michael sounding so excited about teachers - it was an oxymoron.
"Nah. I'll meet her when I take Ben in tomorrow." He grinned. "Apparently she's young and cute, at least from the way the principal was drooling while he talked about her. You were right though Michael. It's a great school. Good call."
Michael suddenly had a scowl on his face. "But you didn't even get her name?" He demanded.
"No." Max raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Just curious." Michael replied, holding his hands up. He looked away. "Er - maybe I better go in with you guys tomorrow." He said quietly a moment later.
Max narrowed his eyes. "Again, why? I do remember how school works Michael. Besides," he added, "I thought you said you were finally going to call Maria tomorrow."
"Um, I thought I might wait a couple of more days." Michael said quietly, glancing at Ben, who had picked up a comic book from the far side of the bed. He didn't seem to be listening to their conversation, as he knew that school wasn't really that important for him. Max was only sending him so that he could meet some other kids after all. It wasn't like he needed the education.
Max eyed Michael for a moment, then tilted his head towards the door. "I suggest we go discuss this elsewhere."
Michael scowled again, but followed Max out into the living room.
Max grinned when Ben called after them, "Are you going to talk about girls again? Because I won't listen! I promise!"
"Shut the door." Max yelled back. He heard his son muttering to himself as he moved to comply. He turned back to Michael, who was now sprawled on the couch. "Okay, what's going on?"
"Nothing." Michael muttered, picking up a magazine that was sitting beside him.
Max sighed. "Michael, are you ever going to tell me what happened between you two?"
"I told you Maxwell. She can't accept who I am." Michael replied, tossing the magazine aside.
Max just shook his head. "Unfortunately Michael, since you haven't told me [I]who[/I] you are these days, that doesn't tell me much." He shrugged. "I've been gone for eight years. You need to fill me in on these things."
"She doesn't want to get married." Michael yelled. "There! Are you satisfied?"
Max blinked. "And you do?"
"It's all about her career with her!" Michael stormed, ignoring Max's question entirely. He stood up, started pacing. "I don't think she'll [I]ever[/I] want to settle down!"
"Michael, are you having a mid-life crisis?" Max joked. Michael stopped, turned to glare at him. "You're twenty-six. There's plenty of time."
"Maxwell, she [I]told[/I] me that she doesn't ever want to get married." Michael snapped back. "And the way she said it, I know it's true. I'm not saying that I want to get married right now, but I do want to eventually! I want kids - and I'll tell you this much - no kid of mine is going to come into a house where the parents aren't committed to each other." He raked his hands through his hair. "I know what it's like to feel unwanted." He muttered.
Max frowned. Michael had changed yes, but it was becoming clear that his best friend was still haunted by his childhood. It was memories of some of the stuff Michael had had to endure with Hank that had helped Max to solidify how he planned to raise Ben after all. Michael had gone through hell and it had shaped the kind of person he had become.
Just like being raised by Diane and Phillip Evans had shaped the kind of person Max was. The kind of [I]human[/I] he was anyway.
Ben was going to have the same happy childhood Max had had if it was the last thing Max did.
Max forced his mind to refocus on the problem at hand. "Okay, tell me how you know that she really meant it."
"It was the off-hand way that she said it. It was right after Liz had called to tell us she was marrying Dan. She hung up and turned to me and said 'And another one bites the dust. I'm never getting married.' Just like that..." Max was staring at Michael as he trailed off. "Oh Christ." He ran his hands through his hair again. "Oh man. I'm sorry Maxwell. I didn't mean to tell you like that."
Liz was getting married.
Max felt like he had been punched in the stomach and then had been kicked in the head for good measure.
He and Michael had barely discussed Liz at all since they had met up the week before. Michael had come to pick he and Ben up at the bus station in L.A., had broached the subject almost immediately, but Max had told him that it could wait. He needed to make sure that Ben was adjusting all right before he even started to think about Liz. Michael had tried to insist, but Max had told him that he didn't want to know.
What a liar he was.
He had needed to get his son settled before he started to think about how he was going to find his soulmate and how he was going to win her back. Ha. Right.
Why the hell had he waited a whole week to let Michael tell him? He had let Michael tell him about Maria and Isabel and his parents and even the Valentis, but the subject of Liz had been totally off limits - until he could devote his full attention to it. It had seemed like a pretty good plan at the time.
What an idiot he was.
"When?" He managed to choke out.
Michael was staring at him, looking like he wanted to kill himself. "On Saturday." He said evenly. "I'm really sorry man." He paused. "He's a nice guy..." Michael trailed off again. "Um, well I guess you don't want to know that."
Max swallowed, hard. "I want to know. Tell me." He [I]didn't[/I] want to know actually, but he knew he had to.
He was trying to focus on what Michael was saying, but the same thought kept drifting through his mind. [I] You've lost her. You left her and you've lost her. [/I]
And it wasn't until that instant that he realized that the reason he hadn't wanted Michael to tell him about Liz was because he had been pretty sure there was nothing to tell.
It was true. He had truly, in his selfish, self-absorbed way, believed that she had waited for him, that she had known that he had every intention of returning to her someday. He had just assumed that she knew that when he left, he was planning to come back to her - that from the moment he had blasted off of Earth with Langley, he had been on his way back to [I]her.[/I]
He had truly believed that she was waiting for him. He had believed that she would wait for him for eight years while he chased after the son she still believed he had fathered with another woman.
He was a complete fool.
"...they met at Harvard." Michael was saying. His voice was drifting in and out of Max's state of consciousness. "Maxwell, would you stop looking like that!" He heard Michael exclaim.
"Looking like what?" He murmured in a daze.
"Like you're about to fall on your sword." Michael retorted.
Max shook his head to clear it, images of Liz the last time he had left her, sitting in his old Chevelle, staring up at him as he told her that this time he had to go alone...
He hadn't even kissed her goodbye. He hadn't because he had known that he was going to see her in a couple of weeks, had known that they had a whole lifetime of kisses ahead of them.
He had been focused on one thing. His son. How could he have known how quickly things would progress when he had reached LA? How could he have known that he was going to have to leave so soon? How could he have known that he wasn't going to get the chance to really kiss her goodbye?
"Sorry." Max managed to say. "Tell me." He repeated, this time with every intention of listening.
"His name is Dan Riley." Michael repeated patiently. "He's a scientist like Liz. They both teach at Harvard."
Max smiled slightly, despite himself. "She's teaching at Harvard huh?"
Michael shrugged. "Some kind of biology." He shook his head. "I have no idea what the hell kind. Maria knows."
"Molecular." Max said quietly.
"That sounds right. Anyway, Liz waited for you for a full year before she went. She only started to accept that you might not be coming back when Isabel started to..." Michael trailed off, frowning. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"
Max nodded mechanically. Dan Riley. Molecular biology. Dan Riley. Molecular biology. The names were interchanging through his brain, every time making his heart break a little more.
"Anyway, Iz started to accept it. And Liz realized that she needed to be strong for Isabel." Michael scowled at him. "She's never gotten over you leaving Max. She's never gotten over you telling her that you would talk to her when you got back...and then you never [I]came[/I] back. She's never forgiven herself for hanging up on you that day."
Max closed his eyes. The thought of phone calls was making him think about the phone call he had ignored from Liz on that fateful day. He had always known why he hadn't answered it. If he had answered it, he wouldn't have gone. He would have chosen Liz over his son and he would have lost his last chance to save him.
Because Max had truly believed that he could have both. He had believed that he could ignore Liz's phone call because she would be waiting for him and he could apologize and they would both happily raise his son together...
What kind of blind idiot was he? The fact that he had only been eighteen years old was no excuse.
He had chosen his son and he had lost Liz. Supreme irony that - because in the end, it had turned out that Liz never would have forgiven him if he hadn't gone after Ben.
And now she would never know why.
Because he was going to leave her in peace. He couldn't disrupt her life now. And the only way to leave her in peace was to not see her - and so she would never see Ben.
"Are you planning to call her Max?" Michael was asking. Max wasn't sure if he meant Liz or Isabel, but he had made his decision. He couldn't call anyone until Liz's wedding was over. He wouldn't hurt her that way, wouldn't interfere in the most important day of her life.
He told himself that anyway. Told himself that this was about [I]Liz[/I]. About what was best for her.
He tried to ignore the fact that he didn't want her to know that he was back, because he could absolutely not bear the fact that she might not care. At least if she never knew, he could pretend to himself that she might - that it [I]might[/I] stop her from marrying this Dan guy. That it might have made a difference.
"The wedding is this Saturday?" He asked Michael. "In Roswell?"
"Yeah. And then they're going back to Boston." Michael replied.
"I'll call Izzy after the wedding." Max said woodenly. "You can't tell anyone until after the wedding."
"I haven't told anyone so far." Michael retorted. "I even told Maria I wouldn't go to the wedding so that she wouldn't find out. I told you when you called me man. We play this your way." He glanced towards the closed bedroom door. "You're the one with the kid to think of."
"Yeah." Max stood up slowly, felt like a zombie as he walked towards the room where his son was likely watching some violent show he wasn't supposed to be watching. "I better get him ready for bed. He has an early day tomorrow."
Max heard Michael cough behind him. "Er Maximillian..."
Max turned his head wearily. "What?"
"I think maybe I might have to take Ben to school tomorrow." Michael grimaced. "If this secret thing is going to work."
"Why?" Max eyed him suspiciously.
"Well, um...because Isabel is his teacher." He blurted out in a rush.
Max closed his eyes in resignation. "What?"
"I thought you were being a dick." Michael said bluntly. "I didn't understand why you weren't calling anyone except me - and I still don't understand why you weren't before - and so I arranged it so you would run into Isabel anyway," he explained. "But now I think you're right and I think that maybe seeing you would be too much for Iz. She's going to Liz's wedding. I think she would tell her."
"I was afraid." Max replied honestly, only now realizing it was true, now that he had stopped lying to himself. "I knew that you were the only one who wouldn't tell me anything unless I wanted you to. I was afraid of finding out exactly what I just found out." He scrubbed his eyes. He smiled weakly, suddenly feeling extremely tired. "You know, deep down, I really though life would stop while I was gone." He snorted derisively. "It's the king in me I guess."
"You always did think the Earth revolved around you." Michael agreed. He held his hands up when Max glared at him. "I'm totally kidding. Man, I'm really sorry. I'm sorry that it didn't." Max knew that Michael was completely sincere. It actually made him feel worse.
"Thanks. And I'd appreciate it if you'd take Ben until I can tell Izzy the truth."
"Sure. I'll just tell her he's my neighbour's kid."
"Michael, you live in LA." Max sighed.
"Ah, she knows Maria and I broke up." Michael replied. "I'll just tell her I moved back to this hell-hole."
"Whatever."
Because 'whatever' was all Max Evans was feeling at the moment. It was what he felt all through getting Ben ready for bed, all through watching the news with Michael in a vain attempt to get caught up on what had happened on the Earth while he was gone, was what he felt as he had fallen into bed himself close to one o'clock in the morning.
'Whatever' was all he felt until he suddenly awoke in the middle of the night, a certain knowledge hitting him so abruptly that it couldn't be ignored.
He had been dreaming about her.
She had still been eighteen year old Liz in his dream. She had been in her Crashdown uniform staring at him, an unreadable expression on her face. He had been walking towards her, knowing that she was angry at him, knowing that he had never been more sorry in his entire life, knowing that he could never leave her.
Knowing that he had to tell her. That she had to know that he was sorry.
It had been so realistic, it had almost been like a vision of what was supposed to have been, of what should have been...
And, in that instant, before he was fully aware, before fully awake, he knew. 'Whatever' turned into 'however." Meaning that, however long it took, he was going to win her back.
To be continued...
Max Evans slammed the door of the rented apartment, calling out as he threw the pizza box onto the sofa in the living room. "Soup's on! Get out here you guys!"
He could hear the yelling coming from the second bedroom Michael had lugged the TV and VCR into two days before, telling Max that he had the responsibility to ensure that Ben caught up on his TV as quickly as possible. "To fit in with the other kids Maxwell," Michael had explained in all seriousness. Max had just nodded, trying hard not to laugh.
"HOLY CRAP! THAT WAS AMAZING!"
Max rolled his eyes at the voice emerging from the bedroom. Nice to see [I]some[/I] things hadn't changed. Apparently Michael was already filling Ben in on some of the finer points of the English language.
He threw his jacket over the back of a chair in the kitchen, grabbed some plates, the Tabasco bottle that was sitting on the table, and the pizza as he walked back through the living room, and went to join his best friend and his son.
Michael was sprawled on the bed, the remote control in his hand. Max eyed him in amusement as he pointed at the screen, talking to the boy sitting beside him. "See, that's when Gretzky scored the game winning goal to take the Cup."
"He's amazing." Ben replied. "But I want to see that Selanne goal again."
Michael was nodding in approval. "Yeah, that guy had some moves in his day. You've got taste kid."
"Ice hockey Michael?" Max asked, raising an eyebrow as both Michael and Ben turned their heads to stare at him. "You did tell my kid that we don't usually have it in New Mexico?"
"Hey, just because we're in the desert, doesn't mean the kid can't appreciate the coolest game on Earth." Michael retorted as Ben said "Hi Dad." Michael pointed the remote at the TV again, shutting the screen off.
"Hey!" Ben exclaimed, looking annoyed. "I want to watch that!"
"Sorry kid. It's time for the pizza." Michael replied, standing up and grabbing the box from Max. "This is an important component of your earthly education. Right after cereal, pizza is the most significant food you're going to encounter on this planet."
Ben looked interested. But then, Max reflected wryly, Ben had been interested in absolutely everything Michael had told him since they had met the week before. In Ben's eight year old eyes, Michael Guerin was the essence of humanity. He wanted to be exactly like him, Lord help them all.
Max settled into a chair next to the bed, grabbed a slice of pizza and dumped a liberal dose of Tabasco on top. He bit in, closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the blast of flavour that greeted him.
God, had he missed Tabasco.
The three guys munched away at their pizza in companionable silence for several minutes before Michael spoke, his mouth full. "So, is the kid all registered?"
"Yeah." Max replied, wiping his hands on a napkin, then handing one to Ben, who was starting to smear his greasy hands on the blankets on top of the bed. "You start tomorrow kiddo."
Ben didn't reply, just glanced at Michael to see what he had to say about school. "Did you meet his teacher?" Michael asked. Max wondered at the weirdly chipper way he said it. Michael had changed since Max had been gone, but not [I]that [/I] much. Michael sounding so excited about teachers - it was an oxymoron.
"Nah. I'll meet her when I take Ben in tomorrow." He grinned. "Apparently she's young and cute, at least from the way the principal was drooling while he talked about her. You were right though Michael. It's a great school. Good call."
Michael suddenly had a scowl on his face. "But you didn't even get her name?" He demanded.
"No." Max raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Just curious." Michael replied, holding his hands up. He looked away. "Er - maybe I better go in with you guys tomorrow." He said quietly a moment later.
Max narrowed his eyes. "Again, why? I do remember how school works Michael. Besides," he added, "I thought you said you were finally going to call Maria tomorrow."
"Um, I thought I might wait a couple of more days." Michael said quietly, glancing at Ben, who had picked up a comic book from the far side of the bed. He didn't seem to be listening to their conversation, as he knew that school wasn't really that important for him. Max was only sending him so that he could meet some other kids after all. It wasn't like he needed the education.
Max eyed Michael for a moment, then tilted his head towards the door. "I suggest we go discuss this elsewhere."
Michael scowled again, but followed Max out into the living room.
Max grinned when Ben called after them, "Are you going to talk about girls again? Because I won't listen! I promise!"
"Shut the door." Max yelled back. He heard his son muttering to himself as he moved to comply. He turned back to Michael, who was now sprawled on the couch. "Okay, what's going on?"
"Nothing." Michael muttered, picking up a magazine that was sitting beside him.
Max sighed. "Michael, are you ever going to tell me what happened between you two?"
"I told you Maxwell. She can't accept who I am." Michael replied, tossing the magazine aside.
Max just shook his head. "Unfortunately Michael, since you haven't told me [I]who[/I] you are these days, that doesn't tell me much." He shrugged. "I've been gone for eight years. You need to fill me in on these things."
"She doesn't want to get married." Michael yelled. "There! Are you satisfied?"
Max blinked. "And you do?"
"It's all about her career with her!" Michael stormed, ignoring Max's question entirely. He stood up, started pacing. "I don't think she'll [I]ever[/I] want to settle down!"
"Michael, are you having a mid-life crisis?" Max joked. Michael stopped, turned to glare at him. "You're twenty-six. There's plenty of time."
"Maxwell, she [I]told[/I] me that she doesn't ever want to get married." Michael snapped back. "And the way she said it, I know it's true. I'm not saying that I want to get married right now, but I do want to eventually! I want kids - and I'll tell you this much - no kid of mine is going to come into a house where the parents aren't committed to each other." He raked his hands through his hair. "I know what it's like to feel unwanted." He muttered.
Max frowned. Michael had changed yes, but it was becoming clear that his best friend was still haunted by his childhood. It was memories of some of the stuff Michael had had to endure with Hank that had helped Max to solidify how he planned to raise Ben after all. Michael had gone through hell and it had shaped the kind of person he had become.
Just like being raised by Diane and Phillip Evans had shaped the kind of person Max was. The kind of [I]human[/I] he was anyway.
Ben was going to have the same happy childhood Max had had if it was the last thing Max did.
Max forced his mind to refocus on the problem at hand. "Okay, tell me how you know that she really meant it."
"It was the off-hand way that she said it. It was right after Liz had called to tell us she was marrying Dan. She hung up and turned to me and said 'And another one bites the dust. I'm never getting married.' Just like that..." Max was staring at Michael as he trailed off. "Oh Christ." He ran his hands through his hair again. "Oh man. I'm sorry Maxwell. I didn't mean to tell you like that."
Liz was getting married.
Max felt like he had been punched in the stomach and then had been kicked in the head for good measure.
He and Michael had barely discussed Liz at all since they had met up the week before. Michael had come to pick he and Ben up at the bus station in L.A., had broached the subject almost immediately, but Max had told him that it could wait. He needed to make sure that Ben was adjusting all right before he even started to think about Liz. Michael had tried to insist, but Max had told him that he didn't want to know.
What a liar he was.
He had needed to get his son settled before he started to think about how he was going to find his soulmate and how he was going to win her back. Ha. Right.
Why the hell had he waited a whole week to let Michael tell him? He had let Michael tell him about Maria and Isabel and his parents and even the Valentis, but the subject of Liz had been totally off limits - until he could devote his full attention to it. It had seemed like a pretty good plan at the time.
What an idiot he was.
"When?" He managed to choke out.
Michael was staring at him, looking like he wanted to kill himself. "On Saturday." He said evenly. "I'm really sorry man." He paused. "He's a nice guy..." Michael trailed off again. "Um, well I guess you don't want to know that."
Max swallowed, hard. "I want to know. Tell me." He [I]didn't[/I] want to know actually, but he knew he had to.
He was trying to focus on what Michael was saying, but the same thought kept drifting through his mind. [I] You've lost her. You left her and you've lost her. [/I]
And it wasn't until that instant that he realized that the reason he hadn't wanted Michael to tell him about Liz was because he had been pretty sure there was nothing to tell.
It was true. He had truly, in his selfish, self-absorbed way, believed that she had waited for him, that she had known that he had every intention of returning to her someday. He had just assumed that she knew that when he left, he was planning to come back to her - that from the moment he had blasted off of Earth with Langley, he had been on his way back to [I]her.[/I]
He had truly believed that she was waiting for him. He had believed that she would wait for him for eight years while he chased after the son she still believed he had fathered with another woman.
He was a complete fool.
"...they met at Harvard." Michael was saying. His voice was drifting in and out of Max's state of consciousness. "Maxwell, would you stop looking like that!" He heard Michael exclaim.
"Looking like what?" He murmured in a daze.
"Like you're about to fall on your sword." Michael retorted.
Max shook his head to clear it, images of Liz the last time he had left her, sitting in his old Chevelle, staring up at him as he told her that this time he had to go alone...
He hadn't even kissed her goodbye. He hadn't because he had known that he was going to see her in a couple of weeks, had known that they had a whole lifetime of kisses ahead of them.
He had been focused on one thing. His son. How could he have known how quickly things would progress when he had reached LA? How could he have known that he was going to have to leave so soon? How could he have known that he wasn't going to get the chance to really kiss her goodbye?
"Sorry." Max managed to say. "Tell me." He repeated, this time with every intention of listening.
"His name is Dan Riley." Michael repeated patiently. "He's a scientist like Liz. They both teach at Harvard."
Max smiled slightly, despite himself. "She's teaching at Harvard huh?"
Michael shrugged. "Some kind of biology." He shook his head. "I have no idea what the hell kind. Maria knows."
"Molecular." Max said quietly.
"That sounds right. Anyway, Liz waited for you for a full year before she went. She only started to accept that you might not be coming back when Isabel started to..." Michael trailed off, frowning. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"
Max nodded mechanically. Dan Riley. Molecular biology. Dan Riley. Molecular biology. The names were interchanging through his brain, every time making his heart break a little more.
"Anyway, Iz started to accept it. And Liz realized that she needed to be strong for Isabel." Michael scowled at him. "She's never gotten over you leaving Max. She's never gotten over you telling her that you would talk to her when you got back...and then you never [I]came[/I] back. She's never forgiven herself for hanging up on you that day."
Max closed his eyes. The thought of phone calls was making him think about the phone call he had ignored from Liz on that fateful day. He had always known why he hadn't answered it. If he had answered it, he wouldn't have gone. He would have chosen Liz over his son and he would have lost his last chance to save him.
Because Max had truly believed that he could have both. He had believed that he could ignore Liz's phone call because she would be waiting for him and he could apologize and they would both happily raise his son together...
What kind of blind idiot was he? The fact that he had only been eighteen years old was no excuse.
He had chosen his son and he had lost Liz. Supreme irony that - because in the end, it had turned out that Liz never would have forgiven him if he hadn't gone after Ben.
And now she would never know why.
Because he was going to leave her in peace. He couldn't disrupt her life now. And the only way to leave her in peace was to not see her - and so she would never see Ben.
"Are you planning to call her Max?" Michael was asking. Max wasn't sure if he meant Liz or Isabel, but he had made his decision. He couldn't call anyone until Liz's wedding was over. He wouldn't hurt her that way, wouldn't interfere in the most important day of her life.
He told himself that anyway. Told himself that this was about [I]Liz[/I]. About what was best for her.
He tried to ignore the fact that he didn't want her to know that he was back, because he could absolutely not bear the fact that she might not care. At least if she never knew, he could pretend to himself that she might - that it [I]might[/I] stop her from marrying this Dan guy. That it might have made a difference.
"The wedding is this Saturday?" He asked Michael. "In Roswell?"
"Yeah. And then they're going back to Boston." Michael replied.
"I'll call Izzy after the wedding." Max said woodenly. "You can't tell anyone until after the wedding."
"I haven't told anyone so far." Michael retorted. "I even told Maria I wouldn't go to the wedding so that she wouldn't find out. I told you when you called me man. We play this your way." He glanced towards the closed bedroom door. "You're the one with the kid to think of."
"Yeah." Max stood up slowly, felt like a zombie as he walked towards the room where his son was likely watching some violent show he wasn't supposed to be watching. "I better get him ready for bed. He has an early day tomorrow."
Max heard Michael cough behind him. "Er Maximillian..."
Max turned his head wearily. "What?"
"I think maybe I might have to take Ben to school tomorrow." Michael grimaced. "If this secret thing is going to work."
"Why?" Max eyed him suspiciously.
"Well, um...because Isabel is his teacher." He blurted out in a rush.
Max closed his eyes in resignation. "What?"
"I thought you were being a dick." Michael said bluntly. "I didn't understand why you weren't calling anyone except me - and I still don't understand why you weren't before - and so I arranged it so you would run into Isabel anyway," he explained. "But now I think you're right and I think that maybe seeing you would be too much for Iz. She's going to Liz's wedding. I think she would tell her."
"I was afraid." Max replied honestly, only now realizing it was true, now that he had stopped lying to himself. "I knew that you were the only one who wouldn't tell me anything unless I wanted you to. I was afraid of finding out exactly what I just found out." He scrubbed his eyes. He smiled weakly, suddenly feeling extremely tired. "You know, deep down, I really though life would stop while I was gone." He snorted derisively. "It's the king in me I guess."
"You always did think the Earth revolved around you." Michael agreed. He held his hands up when Max glared at him. "I'm totally kidding. Man, I'm really sorry. I'm sorry that it didn't." Max knew that Michael was completely sincere. It actually made him feel worse.
"Thanks. And I'd appreciate it if you'd take Ben until I can tell Izzy the truth."
"Sure. I'll just tell her he's my neighbour's kid."
"Michael, you live in LA." Max sighed.
"Ah, she knows Maria and I broke up." Michael replied. "I'll just tell her I moved back to this hell-hole."
"Whatever."
Because 'whatever' was all Max Evans was feeling at the moment. It was what he felt all through getting Ben ready for bed, all through watching the news with Michael in a vain attempt to get caught up on what had happened on the Earth while he was gone, was what he felt as he had fallen into bed himself close to one o'clock in the morning.
'Whatever' was all he felt until he suddenly awoke in the middle of the night, a certain knowledge hitting him so abruptly that it couldn't be ignored.
He had been dreaming about her.
She had still been eighteen year old Liz in his dream. She had been in her Crashdown uniform staring at him, an unreadable expression on her face. He had been walking towards her, knowing that she was angry at him, knowing that he had never been more sorry in his entire life, knowing that he could never leave her.
Knowing that he had to tell her. That she had to know that he was sorry.
It had been so realistic, it had almost been like a vision of what was supposed to have been, of what should have been...
And, in that instant, before he was fully aware, before fully awake, he knew. 'Whatever' turned into 'however." Meaning that, however long it took, he was going to win her back.
To be continued...