Chapter Eleven - Enemy.
Max had been speechless very few times in her life. She had been speechless at Manticore, she had been speechless when she tried to comfort Theo's son, and she had been speechless as she stood in front of the blonde woman. She took in this woman - the enemy - and again wanted to hork. She was tall - a bit taller than herself - and had blue eyes. Of course she had blue eyes. Her figure wasn't bad either, but Max felt hers was better. At least that's what the nasty little voice in her head told her. It was the same voice that told her to say to hell with everyone and go off on her own. It wasn't a voice she liked very much.
"Um," Max paused to lick her lips. "Is Logan in?"
Max inwardly groaned. Was that really the best she could come up with?
"Yes, he is," the woman said. "Is he expecting you?"
Max actually let out a little chuckle. She hadn't meant to. She cleared her throat and answered, "Not really."
The woman nodded and stepped aside so Max could enter the apartment.
A flurry of memories assaulted Max as she stepped over the threshold.
"He's in the kitchen," the woman said before walking off.
Max smelled the air. Pasta. Sauce. Chicken. She was interrupting dinner. She didn't care. She walked to the kitchen and paused in the doorway. The woman wasn't in there, but Logan was. She watched him quietly for a minute. He was sitting on a stool at the butcher-block island chopping vegetables. She watched him and took in every skilled movement. The way his hands moved, the way he hummed some classical piece she barely recognized, the way his hair was perfectly gelled, and the way the blue turtleneck clung to him made her speechless. And Max was rarely speechless.
She licked her lips another time and found her voice. She said quietly, "Knock knock."
Logan looked up in shock and forgot what he was doing. He cut his finger and let out a pained curse.
Max rushed forward. She quickly wet a dishcloth and brought it over to him then pressed it down on his finger.
"Sorry," she apologized quietly. "That wasn't exactly the way I saw that going."
"Jesus," was all Logan could manage.
She looked up at him with a wry smirk. "No, it's Max."
"What… How… I… Jesus."
"I'm back," she told him. She felt stupid for saying it, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.
"How? Why?"
"Zack wanted to relocate… to France," she said then lifted the towel to check the bleeding. It wasn't bad, but she pressed the towel down again to be sure. She looked into his eyes and said, "I couldn't go."
She had tried to keep all traces of emotion from her voice but failed miserably. Every part of her, every feeling, every everything had been packed into those three simple words.
"I thought I'd never see you again," he admitted. His tone matched hers.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have left the city. I shouldn't have left y -"
"Logan, I forgot if you said the '85 or the '95 so I - what happened?"
Max took a step back from Logan. She watched as the blonde walked over to him and lifted the dishtowel.
"Oh, ouch," she said and sucked in a breath. "Have some trouble with the vegetables?"
Logan threw a glance at Max and replied, "Not exactly."
"So, was it the '85 or the '95?" she asked.
"The '95," he answered.
She nodded, then turned to Max. "Are you staying for dinner?"
"No," Max replied and looked at Logan.
"I'll go put this back," the blonde said with a smile then left the kitchen carrying the unneeded bottle of wine.
"Her name's Deedra," he said quietly.
"She seems nice," Max replied. She had wanted it to seem as if she really meant it, but she wasn't sure if her voice had betrayed her again.
"Max, I -"
"You don't have to explain," she cut him off. "I was gone. I didn't expect you to… I mean, we weren't even -"
"I want to explain," he said. "After you left… I can't even explain to you how I felt. It was like…"
"You could look at your heart but not touch it or feel it?" she offered quietly.
His eyes lit up. "That's it exactly."
"Yeah, well, Canada gives you time to think," Max replied with a shrug.
Deedra's voice came from the living room, "How much longer?"
"Not long," Logan called back. He turned back to Max. "I still want to explain." When she didn't reply, he continued. "After you left, after the first month, I didn't know what to do with myself. I moped around the apartment, barely showered, didn't make a broadcast - I didn't do anything. Margo threw a party and Bling made me go. That's where I met her. We talked and… I don't know. She made me feel something. I hadn't felt in over a month. It was… nice."
Max nodded and kept her tears in. The last person she would let see her cry was Logan. "Okay. Well, I don't want to keep you from dinner."
She turned and walked to the door. When she reached the kitchen doorway, his next words froze her.
"I don't love her, you know."
He hadn't been sure why he said it, but he knew he had to.
"See you around, Logan."
She hadn't known why he'd said that, but it helped.