The next few days were a dream as Max and Avonlea fell into a domestic routine. He imagined this was how their life would be when they finally became a family. She would wake up early, working while drinking her way through a cup or two of coffee. He would quietly leave, trying not to disturb her train of thought, leaving her sticky notes of encouragement along with a small something to eat.
Max spent his mornings going over leases, blueprints, and other arrangements that had long since been ignored. He called all the tenants to let them know that August had passed. He knew he could update this building to be one of those trendy places to live with the parks and easy access to amenities now that his grandfather was out of the picture. It was all a matter of keeping the current tenants happy while bringing in younger blood.
He would go back to Avonlea's apartment around noon to make them some lunch. He had watched her make her salads enough times to know what she liked. They would chit chat about their day so far while eating, and he would leave again. He didn't want to overstay his welcome, smother her with constant need for her presence. He knew the time would come for him to move back to his apartment, but hers felt more like home than his ever had.
Today, he would be packing some things before the buyers came to collect the furniture and junk the place had accumulated. He had delayed as much as possible, but it was finally time. His heart sunk at the thought of sleeping alone in his apartment.
"Don't forget to feed yourself today. I'll be busy with movers and buyers all day," he said as he kissed the crown of her head.
"You know, I did manage to eat before you. I think I'll manage one day." She laughed, playfully shoving at his white t-shirt as she pushed him out the door.
He watched her close the door, trying to memorize the sparkle in her eye. The way she looked at him, he could almost pretend it was love.
Max managed to concentrate on packing through the morning. He couldn't resist seeing her though. She was his addiction. He always needed another fix.
He slipped into the passageway and watched her cleaning up from her midday meal. The apartment was quiet, only clinking of some dishes as she moved barefoot around the kitchen in her yoga pants and tank top. Her ponytail swinging as she turned this way and that. He jumped when the phone rang behind her.
"Hey, Mom," she said. "Yes, I know it's been a few days. Yes, I'm still alive. I'm sorry, but I've just been busy. You know my landlord, Max? Well his grandfather passed, and he's been staying with me." She leaned on the counter and picked at a box of cookies he had bought her. "Everything is fine. I think he's handling it pretty well. We're…well, I guess you could say we're dating. We haven't really put a label on anything." She stood up straight and twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "I'm not talking about that with you. Mom! I'm not discussing the details of my sex life with you. It's bad enough you've read my books. No! This is not a tit for tat situation. Oh. My. God. Stop! La la la la…I'm not listening! I'm hanging up now. Tell dad I said 'hi' and not to make eye contact with me for at least a year. Love you too. Bye." She hung up the phone and place it on the counter staring at it like it was cursed. "Bat shit crazy. Ugh, I need to bleach my brain," she murmured.
He smiled the whole way back to his apartment through the dust and cobwebs. He'd never seen a relationship, a family, like hers. Although he hadn't met them, he was sure her parents would be open and accepting. After all, they raised Avonlea, and she welcomed him home every day with open arms and every night with open legs. She was perfect. They would be just as happy as her parents. Their children would be amazing like her.
For the next few hours, people were in and out of his apartment moving out items to sell. He watched as item after item left the apartment. He felt lighter as the rooms were emptied and yet drained having to deal with so many strangers in his space. Finally, all that was left was his mattress and a few boxes by the door that held August's personal effects he'd been meaning to take to the dumpster all day.
He was sweeping up the dust that had collected over the years under heavy wooden furniture when the front door slowly opened a crack, and Avonlea's head poked through opening. She smiled as the door swung open and lifted a big greasy bag of take out and a drink carrier with sodas.
"I thought you might be hungry. I remembered to eat, but did you?" she asked.
His dimples deepened as a sheepish grin spread across his face. "I was busy."
"Mm-hm." Avonlea walked through the apartment to the kitchen setting the bags on the counter. "I can see you were busy. You really got rid of everything didn't you? When are you going to get new stuff?"
"I thought maybe this weekend you could help me pick some things out," he said staring at the floor.
"Oh, please. If I were helping you'd end up with a ton of useless throw pillows and doilies. But I'll go with you anyways. It'll be fun." She looked around the empty kitchen once again. "Do you want to eat at my place? You know, with actual chairs and a table?"
"Yeah, that'll be good." He tried to remain calm, knowing he would have at least one more night with her until she finally realized that they'd be better of living together permanently. "Let me grab a quick shower."
She pinched his butt cheeks as he walked away. "Ok, don't take too long. I'm hungry."
He turned and peeled off his shirt. "Hungry for this?" He winked as he unbuttoned the fly of his pants.
She laughed, "Burgers first, lover boy. Go clean up."
Max laughed as he walked to his room. He showered as quickly as possible but he was distracted, hardening at the thought of being with her again. Sleeping with her. Waking up next to her. He loved how she wiggled her ass against his dick in the mornings, teasing him until he grabbed her hips, grinding into her. How wet her mouth and pussy were wrapped around his cock. The feel of her soft sleeping body lying next to him when he could touch her without disturbing her rest.
He dried off quickly and found some clothes in his closet. He pulled on some sweats and a t-shirt then went to help Avonlea gather the food to take back to her apartment. He froze when he saw her.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
She stood there holding a scrapbook from one of August's boxes, her hand covering her mouth. "Oh, Max…I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I just thought it would be pictures." She looked at him with tears in her eyes.
"Get out," he snapped. He could feel the heat spreading throughout his body. Rage. Humiliation. They radiated from his pores.
"Max, please. I'm sorry. I—" she pleaded. She closed the book and laid it back in the box.
"I said get out!" He watched her flee as he raked his hands through his damp hair. He grabbed the scrapbook and tore it open. Newspaper clippings, headlines of a murder/suicide, pictures of his parents met his eyes.
This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to find out this way. He would have told her eventually. The way she looked at him. Her tear filled eyes full of pity. God, pity. He didn't want her pity. Or her fear. And that's all he probably had now. She would know he was broken. Know he came from a family of weak men. Men that killed their wives. How could she want him after that?
He fell to his knees, his body wracked with decades of anguish he'd never been allowed to express. He sobbed on his kitchen floor until he choked on his tears. He was weak. Avonlea was his weakness just as his mother had been his father's. He would do whatever he needed to have her.
Picking himself up off the floor, Max headed to the passages for the second time that day. He needed to see her. To see how disgusted she was. To see the revulsion in her eyes. He needed to know how far he'd have to go to win her back.
He saw her in her living room. Her eyes were eyes were bloodshot, nose red, tears sliding down her cheeks.
"I don't know how to fix this, Mom," she cried into the receiver. "What do I say? 'Sorry, I found your grandpa's collection of creepy articles about your dad killing your mom'? I mean, why couldn't I just leave the damn thing alone? I just thought maybe I'd see a baby picture or something. He was probably such a cute baby." She hiccupped as she caught her breath. "And he told me his grandfather hated him, and I didn't believe him. Can you imagine being raised by that?" She wiped at the tears with tissue and listened to whatever her mother said. "He probably doesn't want to see me again. I can't blame him. I invaded his privacy and brought up painful memories. And it was all going so well." Her breathing hitched and her eyes screwed up as she began to weep. "He's so amazing. I can't imagine what he's been through, and he rose above all that." She blew her nose and sniffled as she listened with an occasional weak agreement. "Ok. I love you too. I'll sleep on it and think about it in the morning. Night."
Max watched Avonlea hang up the phone and walk towards her bedroom. He walked the dark hallways around her apartment and found her in her bathroom. He stared at her through the mirror as she washed her face and took a medicine bottle from her cabinet. She filled a glass with water and swallowed the pill. She stared at the bottle for a moment before reopening it and taking another pill. She crawled in bed, pulling the covers over her shoulders. He could hear her crying herself to sleep. He waited.
Max entered her apartment through the hidden wine closet in the kitchen, and quietly made his way to her bedroom. He looked down at her marveling at this woman who still wanted him after knowing his family's past. Knowing that his father was a murderer and his grandfather cruel.
He pulled back the covers slowly, revealing her curves covered only in her tank top and lace thong. Stripping off his clothes he laid on his side facing her. He tucked her hair behind her ears, marveling at the softness of her skin. He placed a gentle kiss on her parted lips.
She was truly his. He knew that now. He'd heard her tell her mother their relationship was going well. Surely, she felt the same as he did. She must have thought of their future. He thought of little else.
His hands skimmed over her body, his hand lifting the weight of her breast, thumb rubbing her nipple as he felt the metal of her piercing move with his caresses. His hand traveled down her body under the waist of her panties. His fingers slipped between her folds stroking her until a sheen of wetness covered them.
He stroked his erection with her arousal coating his length before draping her leg over his hip. He pulled the thin fabric of her panties to the side and pressed into her pussy. He had to work himself into her, thrusting a little deeper each time. Eventually her body yielded, letting him sink himself into her wet warmth. He pressed her limp body against him, reveling in her closeness, the smell of her skin, the steady rhythm of her breath. He could feel the pressure building in his body. He pumped harder, his face buried in her neck, her pulse beating against his lips.
Max pulled out and rolled onto his back. He pumped his dick with a firm grip, thrusting hard into his fist. Warm splatters of cum hit his stomach as he shook from his release. He laid there for a moment recovering while Avonlea still slept peacefully next to him. He took two fingers and ran them through the deposits of his fluids then gently pushed them into her pussy, stroking her soft walls. He used a tissue from the night stand to clean the rest of his stomach off.
He dressed himself and tucked her back in, kissing her forehead before leaving. She was so beautiful when she slept. Tomorrow they would be able to fix everything.