Page 95 of Maxwell

“So what you’re saying is, you were jealous. You were fucking jealous!”

“She was monopolizing all your time, and you changed,” Jayson accused.

“For the better! We can’t keep doing the same stuff. Do you want to be like those guys we laugh at in the club, who chase women way past the time they should be? It’s not fun anymore.”

“It was fun until she came along!”

“Same thing! It’s. Not. Fun. Any. More.”

They continued arguing, and Maxwell did something completely out of character. He grabbed Jayson by the collar and slammed him against the wall. Twice.

Maxwell wasn’t a fighter. That was Thiago’s domain, who boxed and practiced martial arts.

Jayson was several inches taller than Maxwell. He didn’t have to take that, but he didn’t fight back. Without saying a word, they both knew their relationship had forever changed.

“You need to leave,” Maxwell said, pointing at the door.

“Come on, man.”

“Your shenanigans caused me to lose the woman I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with. The mother of my children.”

“It’s that serious?” Jayson asked, sounding incredulous. He still didn’t get it.

“Yes, it’s that serious!”

“There are plenty of other women out there.”

“You’re not listening, and that’s the problem. I don’t want anyone else. She’s the one I want, and for some reason you can’t understand such a simple concept. Get out, man.”

“Come on, Max. We’ve been friends since⁠—”

“Too long. I’m done.”

The finality of his words silenced the room. Jayson’s shocked eyes stared back at him.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. Give me my key.” Maxwell marched over to the side table where he dropped his keys when he came in at the end of each day. He twisted the key to Jayson’s townhouse off the keychain and extended it to his friend.

Jayson looked at his hand and then back up at his face. “You don’t mean that,” he repeated.

Maxwell didn’t flinch, continuing to hold his hand out.

Finally, Jayson walked over and took the key. Maxwell opened his palm to receive the copy of his that Jayson had on his keychain. Jayson didn’t move, and for a moment he wondered if he would have to wrestle the key away from him.

Then Jayson wiggled it free and handed it over to Maxwell, who averted his eyes from the hurt in his friend’s face. This was for the best, and he refused to feel guilty about it. Jayson had caused the rift in their relationship. Not him.

He marched over to the door and flung it open. Slowly, Jayson walked across the floor and out of the condo.

Maxwell slammed the door shut.

As he was waiting for the train to arrive, Maxwell’s phone rang. The call was from Ethan, and he almost didn’t answer. He hadn’t spoken much to anyone in his family in the past couple of weeks. He simply wanted to be alone but answered anyway.

“Hello?”

“Mom told me to call you,” Ethan said without preamble. “She’s worried. She said you haven’t talked much to her, and she invited you over for Sunday dinner, which you declined. You never pass up a free meal.”

“I wasn’t hungry.”