Page 19 of Unbreakable Thread

“You asked for it.”

I’m laughing so hard I might pee my pants. We tumble on the sofa.

“Stop. Oh my gosh, Max. Ahh. Okay. I’m going to pee.”

He finally stops, and the look on his face is well worth the indents and ache he left on my right side.

“Your mom definitely passed down a tickling monster to you. Sheesh.”

Max sets the portrait back in its place. “She would have loved you.”

Hector said the exact same thing.

“Mom would have said I picked a good one.”

I rub his back. “And I would have told her she has an amazing son.”

Max shows me around the house. I didn’t go upstairs when I was here.

We walk into his childhood bedroom. Matchbox cars line the baseboards in primary colors, beside a half-built LEGO tower, dust coating both like a thin layer of snow. The bedspread—faded rocket ships against a navy background is pulled across the mattress, one corner folded back as if he just slipped out of bed. Action figure toys lined up on his desk—wrestling ones, to be exact.

“I want to start packing and give what I can to charity. It’s time to move on and let go.” With his index finger, he cleans the snow-packed dust off and wipes it onto his pants. “I don’t know where my dad went, if he died somewhere, or what. If he decides to return, I want to clean it all out. I want him to have my mom’s memories, but I also want to move on and remember the good ones, not the painful ones. I guess I’m hoping it might help him when and if he returns.”

My stomach clenches, acid rising in my throat as I swallow hard and look away from his face. Lying to Max hurts. I’m not doing it intentionally; I’m being protective of him. I want to make sure Hector is going to do a one-eighty. I don’t want to get his hopes up if Hector fails.

I slide my arms around his waist from behind. “I can help,” I murmur, hoping the closeness might quiet the guilt eating at me.

“Gracias, tesoro. I hate to admit that I’ll need you here with me. It’s been decades since I’ve been through anything.”

“When we moved from Tahoe to Vegas, Dad handled everything else. In our new place, he hung Mom’s old curtains on the windows. He was building a carbon copy, just with different walls around us. The plates were still stacked in the cupboards exactly how she’d arranged them, as if keeping these small rituals might somehow preserve her. He still uses the same cups and plates.” The house felt frozen in time. Now I understand why.

“Pops will probably be pissed when he decides to get back.” He shrugs. “It’s time he came down to reality. Mom’s not coming back.” He picks up an action figure and smiles. “My mom gave me this for my birthday.” He tosses it back. “I cried when they took me because I forgot to pack this one. This is the reason I want to pack up this room. It’s time I let go as well. When we start a family, I don’t want my baggage to affect us.”

Baggage. Max might not realize that he no longer carries baggage. He will always have those memories. He has worked on improving his mental and physical health. It’s me who carries more baggage than I can hold.

The topic of family has resurfaced in his conversations since the last time. I can see the foundation he’s been carefully laying. But I know, with a certainty, that I cannot be the one to complete that picture for him.

Chapter 6

Rainey

The gym is emptier than usual. They cleared it so Max can train. I sit on the bench and watch him in the ring. Pulling out my phone, I scroll through some of my social media accounts. My smile grows when I come across Lana’s post of her date night with the guy her dad set her up with. Now I’m still speechless. Lana’s father wanted to arrange a marriage. She told her father she would see him as a friend and see how it goes. He agreed. The guy in the photo he tagged her in is a handsome older man. He smiles at her with teeth and all, while Lana has a drunk grin on her lips. Her blue eyes sparkle in the light. She hasn’t spoken about her mystery man in a while. Maybe she moved on.

A laugh that annoys the shit out of me has me lift my head. Annette walks out freshly showered from the women’s locker room in spandex shorts and a matching sports bra. She’s on the list of people I can’t stand. In no way does it have anything to do with jealousy because I’m not. Not anymore, at least. The woman has no class or respect. She acts like she’s all that and a bag of salty chips. Her gaze still lingers on Max, knowing he told her off and ignored her. Annette gives him the “fuck me” eyes as often as she can. Like now, her gaze rolls over Max’s sweaty body as he spars with Xander in the ring and Carlos at his side. She then turns to look at me. Annette smirks, her gaze once again moves to Max, and she gives me a pitying look. Does she know about what happened to me? Unfortunately, Max said he can’t get rid of her since it’s Carlos’s gym and Carlos is training her as well. I ignore her—she’s a dumb, thirsty bitch. From the look of it, she thinks she’ll have him.

Carlos steps out of the ring and walks toward me. “Rainey, how are you doing?” he asks. I hadn’t seen Carlos since the cookout he had invited us to before the accident. Right now, he seems different. I can’t pinpoint the emotion radiating from him, since I don’t know him well enough. One thing is, he doesn’t look pleased by the straight line on his lips.

“Carlos, I’m doing good. How have you been? How’s Nessa?” I ask as his arm goes over my shoulder in a friendly hug.

“Nessa is doing wonderful. She’s happy you’re doing better. You gave us quite a scare. We tried to visit you at the hospital, but Max said it wouldn’t be a good time.”

I nod because it really wasn’t. “Thank you for showing up. I appreciate it.” My gaze goes to Max, leaning against the ropes, trying to catch his breath while listening to what Xander says. “Are you ready for this weekend—the fight?” I ask.

Carlos rubs his peppered stubble on his chin. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He gestures toward his office, and I follow suit, worried. Is Max not ready? Is this what he needs to talk about? Surely he is.

“Is everything okay?” I question when he shuts the door.

“Yes,” he says, seeming nervous, running his fingers through his hair. “Umm, Rainey. You know Max has been working his ass off for years.”