Love Flows Deep Into the Years

Just as I was about to leave, Max suddenly came back. He was supporting a pale-looking Jane and anxiously shouted at me, “You’re already home, so hurry up and make some soup for Jane! She’s having terrible cramps!”

I held onto my suitcase, unfazed. I didn’t say a word. I just walked past him and headed for the door.

Max got furious. He quickly rushed over, grabbed my suitcase and smashed it to pieces.

“I said she’s got cramps! I told you to make the tea! Didn’t you hear me? Why are you acting like this? Who are you trying to impress?”

He was mad at me. Over his cycling buddy.

It was almost laughable. He was never like this before.

Back when I was helping him out, Max only had eyes for me. He’d call me “Baby,” tell me I was working too hard and say how much he appreciated me. He even promised to buy me a big house once he passed his civil service exam. That promise was just as hollow as it sounds now.

I looked down at the broken suitcase and the mess all over the floor.

Without thinking, I slapped him—hard.

“Give me a hundred bucks,” I said.

I held out my hand. “Didn’t you want that soup for Jane? Give me a thousand. It’s going to be expensive.”

I wasn’t joking. Max probably didn’t realize it, but I come from money. I had left my family and moved to Bremont for him, breaking ties with everyone I knew.

A cliché story, I know. But a painful one, too.

Max scoffed, pulled out his phone and started tapping on the screen.

That’s when I remembered. I took out my phone and held it up to him.

“Sorry, you’ll have to scan to pay. Your side chick deleted my contact on DayChat.”

Max’s eyes flashed with a hint of annoyance, but he scanned the code.

“If you wanted money, you could’ve just asked. No need to play games,” he sneered.

When the payment went through, I didn’t respond. I turned around, went into the kitchen and started making the soup. Max stood there watching me, probably worried I might poison Jane.

As if I would.

I’m generous. I even added two extra teaspoons of salt.

Then, out of nowhere, Max said, “Sadie Knight.”

I paused, looking up from the soup. What he said next caught me completely off guard.

“Let’s get married. Both of our parents can meet this weekend.”

I didn’t even flinch as I stirred the soup. Instead, I gave him a strange look.

“Did you lose a game of truth or dare?” I asked. I wasn’t even trying to be sarcastic.

It wasn’t the first time Max had “proposed.” Just a few months ago, he took me up some desolate mountain and at the top, he knelt down with a bunch of wild grass in his hand and yelled, “Sadie, let’s get married!”

It was a scorching hot day and the air felt thick with the heat and the crowd. I won’t lie—my heart skipped a beat. My pulse quickened and I said “yes” without thinking.

But then Jane started laughing. The whole group went silent, but her laughter echoed around us. It was unnerving.

I thought she was losing it.

But then Max started laughing, too.

After Jane finally stopped, clutching her stomach, she looked at me and said, “Don’t feel bad, Sadie. Max was just joking. We lost a game of truth or dare last night!”