“No,” Max says simply, moving off my stomach to rub his head. He lies on the pillow next to me, his bicep flexing as he props a hand behind his head. “I go to their place, or I get a hotel room.”
I turn on my side and pull the sheet up over us so I can focus on this very shocking admission. “Even on the weeks when Everly is at her mom’s?”
His perfect profile nods in confirmation.
“That’s messed up, Max.”
“Why?” he asks with a laugh, turning to look at me with that boyish grin that gives me butterflies.
“Because you’re in your mid-thirties.” I shake my head to refocus. “Why don’t you bring women here?”
He licks his lips and looks around the room with a thoughtful expression. “Because I bought this home for Everly and me, and since I never date anyone seriously, why would I bring them into this world?”
I take a moment to consider this. He’s shown over and over how much his daughter means to him. How he rearranges his life to make sure she knows he loves her. It’s crazy to think he’s never wanted a partner to be a part of all that.
“You’ve been divorced for years, though.” I watch him carefully. “There’s never been anyone special in all that time?”
“No,” he replies simply as his chest rises and falls with a deep breath.
“Did you love Everly’s mom?” I ask, wondering if he’s still completely heartbroken over losing her.
His jaw muscle tics before he answers, “I thought I did at the time.”
My brow furrows. “Then why wouldn’t you want to find that again?”
He turns on his side to face me, and there’s a distinct look of resignation on his face as he rests his hand on my hip. “I had trouble trusting women after Jess came out to me. I know it’s her story and her truth, and I’m happy she’s happy now. But things about our life together have this strange cloud over them after she told me the truth.”
“Like what?” I chew my lip nervously as I clutch the edge of the sheet tightly in my hands.
His eyes are tight and pensive. “Honestly, every memory. Our entire relationship in college, the moment we found out she was pregnant. The day I proposed. It was at our college graduation. She was four months pregnant by then, but I’d planned to propose to her that day even before we found out about the baby.”
My lips curve down into a sad smile. I can’t really picture Max as a public display of affection sort of guy. He seems too buttoned up and focused to do anything in front of a bunch of people.
“We were both in our cap and gown. I thought it was so special. But now it’s all clouded over along with our wedding day and even Everly’s birth.”
“In what way is it clouded?” I inquire, my stomach twisting into knots over him reliving some of the best moments of a family’s life and not seeing any of the joy in it.
“It’s clouded because I was so fucking happy and in love, and I thought I had a partner who was sharing in all that with me, but I didn’t. In fact, Jessica was in hell fighting against her true self with me and faking every moment we spent together. Is it really love if someone didn’t ever fully love you back?”
My breath catches in my throat at hearing the pain in his voice as he confesses the true depth of what their relationship was. He was living his dream with the woman he loved, and he believed she was putting on a show for him. What an awful feeling.
My chin trembles at that image. “Is that really how she felt? Have you asked her that?” I can’t cover up the emotion that cracks through my voice as I reach for his hand gripping my hip.
“We’ve discussed a lot of things. And I’ve even spoken to a therapist.” He exhales heavily, his eyes haunted as he turns away from me to stare up at the ceiling. “And that’s the fucked-up part. I’ve read lots of books and broadened my sights, so I know that what Jess dealt with is far bigger than what I had to deal with. But that doesn’t change the fact that what I thought were the best years of my life were all a lie. That’s why I don’t do relationships. I don’t want to put myself in the position to be blindsided again. I was in love with someone only to find out they weren’t in love with me that whole time—at least not in a meaningful, all-consuming kind of way. It gives a guy a healthy dose of inferiority complex.”
I inhale sharply at that label. How the hell could Max Fletcher, this beautiful specimen of a man in front of me, ever suffer from an inferiority complex?