Chapter 7: Unexpected Visitors

The presentation went better than anticipated. Grace had always excelled at compartmentalization, and today was no different. She confidently answered questions and left to accept accolades from her teammates.

But, as she walked back to her office, her thoughts turned to Max. Was he seriously considering staying because of her?

"You look like someone who just landed a major account," Elena observed, appearing near her desk. "Spill."

"Henderson signed," Grace stated. "Full campaign, eighteen-month contract."

"Incredible! "This is cause for celebration."

"I should probably head home….." "To your sexy roommate chef?" Elena's eyebrows waggled. "What was with the weird energy between you two last night?"

Grace dropped into her chair, tired. "It's complicated."

"The best things usually are." Elena perched on the desk's edge. "Talk to me."

Grace briefly considered deflecting. However, the weight of keeping everything inside was getting overwhelming.

"His ex-wife showed up yesterday," she finally revealed. "In our apartment. She held a key."

Elena's expression clouded. "She what now?"

"Max received a job offer in Chicago. Emma…..the ex…….believes he should accept it. Grace stared at her computer screen. "And maybe she's right."

"But you don't want him to go."

It was not a question. Elena had always been able to read her too accurately.

"It does not matter what I want," Grace replied gently. "He's my roommate, not my Husband."

"Nonsense." Elena's tone was harsh. "Grace, I've been watching you for weeks. When you talk about him, your face brightens up. What about last night? How did he look at you? "That man is head over heels."

"You're imagining things."

“Am I?” Because it appeared that he was three seconds away from kissing you when we said goodbye." Elena leaned forwards. "What happened after you left?"

Grace's quiet was sufficient as a response.

"Oh my God," Elena shouted. "He told you, didn't he?"

"He did not make a move. He merely mentioned a few things. About one-time opportunities." Grace buried her face into her hands. "Elena, what am I doing?" Six weeks ago, my life was precisely as I wanted it. Now I'm losing my sleep over a man who may relocate to Chicago."

"There is a saying which says the best things in life are the ones that turn everything upside down." Elena's voice became relaxed. "You have been playing it safe for so long. Perhaps it's time to take a risk."

"I do not take chances. I make plans. "I follow spreadsheets—"

"You're in love with him."

The words lingered in the air, simple yet awful. Grace opened her mouth to deny it, but she couldn't form the words.

"Oh, honey," Elena replied softly. "Why is that so scary?"

Because love implied weakness. Love meant giving someone the ability to hurt you and upend your carefully created universe. Love meant chaos, and Grace had spent years erecting barriers against chaos.

Grace muttered, "Because I am not as brave as you." "I don't know how to be someone who falls in love with her roommate and fights for what she wants."

"Bullshit," Elena replied heartily. "You abandoned your corporate job to become a freelancer because you trusted in yourself. You choose to live with a complete stranger. Grace, you're braver than you realize. You just have to remember that."

By the time Grace got home, she'd nearly convinced herself to have an honest conversation with Max. But her confidence was dashed as she opened the door and heard voices from the kitchen Max's recognizable baritone and a lady laughing.

Emma was back.

"......Remember that disaster with the soufflé?" Emma was speaking as Grace approached the kitchen. "You were so convinced you'd ruined everything, but the judges loved it."

Max responded, "Pure panic," and Grace could hear a smirk in his voice.

They were standing close together on the island, Emma seated on a bar stool as Max sliced veggies. 

A bottle of wine was open between them, and the setting was so intimate that Grace felt like an intruder.

"Oh, Grace!" Emma turned as she entered, smiling brightly. "It's the perfect time. Max is making his renowned braised short ribs. There are plenty if you want to join us."

The invitation felt like a knife twist. This was Grace's apartment, yet Emma made it sound as if Grace was the outsider being pleasantly welcomed.

"That's okay," Grace said. "I already ate."

Max recognized the untruth with a first glance. But he did not contradict her.

"We were just catching up," Emma explained. "Max told me about trivia night. It appears that you two work well together."

"We won," Grace stated bluntly.

"So, I heard! "How fun." Emma's smile never faltered. "Max has always been competitive. Remember the couples' culinary competition in Portland? "We almost got kicked out because he argued with the judges."

The casual reference to their shared history struck more than it should have. These two had a life together, one filled with memories that Grace was not a part of. What did she have? A few weeks of morning discussions, and one almost-moment on the sidewalk.

"I should let you two finish catching up," Grace murmured, moving back into the hallway. "I have work to finish."

"Grace……." Max began, but she had already retreated.

Grace shut her door and leaned against it, her heart was racing with disappointment and a sense of jealousy. She could hear their voices through the walls…..Emma's lovely giggle, Max's responses, and the intimate sounds of two people cooking a meal who knew each other's rhythms.

Around nine p.m., she heard the front door close and footsteps approaching her room.

"Grace? "Are you OK?"

She pondered pretending to sleep. "I am fine." "Just working."

"Can I come in?"

"No," she wanted to reply. "Sure."

Max opened the door gingerly. He had changed into trousers and a soft gray pullover, which made his eyes appear deeper.

"You didn't eat dinner," he said without explanation.

"I told you, I already……."

"You're a terrible liar, Grace." His voice was soft. "There are leftover sandwiches in the fridge."

She was staring at her laptop screen. "I'm sure Emma enjoyed them."

"Yes, she did. But she's not the person I was hoping to cook for.

The soft words made her chest tighten. She eventually looked up and saw him looking at her with concern and dissatisfaction.

"Why couldn't you join us?" he inquired.

"Why couldn't you join us?" he inquired.

Because seeing you at ease with your lovely ex-wife was excruciatingly painful. Because I understood how silly I had been.

"I didn't want to intrude," she replied instead.

Max entered the room and closed the door. "Intrude upon what? Emma and I were just conversing.

"About your shared history. Your competitions and adventures……. " Grace stopped herself, startled by the cruel tone in her voice.

Max's expression reflected his understanding. "Grace, are you jealous?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"You are." He sounded nearly amazed. "You're jealous of Emma."

“I am realistic.” She's your ex-wife, she's beautiful, and she clearly still cares about your career….."

"She's also my past," Max interjected, drawing closer. "Emphasis on the past."

"Is she?" Because she has keys to our flat, she turns up for private dinners."

"I gave her the key when we got married. I forgot she still had it with her, and I've already asked for it back." Max's voice was forceful. "Emma and I are done. It's completely over."

Grace wanted to believe him but she could not. "Then why is she so invested in your Chicago decision?"

Max remained silent for a long time. “Because she believes I am making a mistake.” Emma believes that by staying in New York, I am avoiding my full potential. She believes I am using you as an excuse."

The words landed like a physical blow. "Using me?"

"Her words, not mine." Max sat at the edge of her bed. "But maybe she has a point."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe I'm using you as an excuse. Maybe I'm so afraid of destroying another relationship that I'm hiding behind what we share instead of chasing what I truly want."

"Which is?"

Max reached for her hand. "You. I want you, Grace. Not as a roommate nor friend. "I want you as you are…….complicated, smart, stubborn, and beautiful."

Grace looked at their clasped hands. "Max……."

"I know this is a mess. I know the timing is terrible, and I am probably the last person you expected to fall for. But I can't keep pretending that being here, beside you every day, isn't the most enjoyable part of my life."

The honesty in his voice shattered her heart. All of her carefully built defenses shattered.

"I have no idea how to do this," she grumbled. "I don't know how to take chances on love."

"You don't have to know," Max replied, kissing her knuckles. "We can figure this out together. But, Grace, Chicago is not about Emma. It is about fear. I'm worried that if I stay, if I put myself completely out there, you'll choose I'm not worth the trouble."

"You think I haven't already noticed you're a complication?" Grace’s laughter was weak. "Max, you have turned my life upside down. I used to have a clear sense of self. Now I spend half of my day thinking about your coffee preferences and whether you'll be home for dinner.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Terrifying," she acknowledged. "But maybe that's not necessarily bad."

Max smiled slowly and warmly. "Does this mean you're willing to try?"

Instead of responding right away, Grace took a long look at him at the optimism in his countenance, at the vulnerability he was expressing despite every reason to defend himself.

She was braver than she imagined. She had taken risks before. Perhaps it was time to take the largest one yet.

"I'm willing to try," she replied softly. "But I have conditions."

"Conditions?"

"I do not do casual things. If we execute this correctly, we will be successful. No more ex-wives with keys, no more pretending we're simply housemates when we both know we've progressed far beyond that.

"Deal," Max replied without hesitation. "Any other demands?"

"Just one." Grace took a big breath. "Don't take the Chicago job."

Max's hand wrapped around hers. "Grace……."

"I understand I don't have the right to inquire." But I am asking because sometimes you have to battle for what you want. And I want you here. I want you in my kitchen, making coffee and leaving books around. I want it all, Max. "I want you.

Max was silent for a little period. Then he moved closer, bringing his free hand up to cup her face.

"Are you certain?" he asked. "If we do this, there's no going back."

Grace said, "I'm sure," and she meant it. "Are you?"

Instead of responding with words, Max moved in and kissed her.

It was soft and warm, with a taste of wine and possibility. It was cautious, lovely, and completely perfect.

When they parted ways, Max laid his forehead against hers.

"I'll call Chicago tomorrow," he replied quietly. "Turn down the offer."

"You don't have to decide right now……."

"Yes, I do." His thumb traced her cheekbones. "Because you are correct, Grace." Some possibilities only present themselves once. And I'm not talking about my job.