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plastic forks and spoons.
    "I like variety," he said watching me stare at all the food.
    "Obviously. And smart on the plates and plastic wear. I hate washing dishes."
    In my old house, we didn't have a fancy dishwasher or even wireless Internet. Compared to where I was now, it was almost a rags to riches story, but those things didn't matter to me. It's funny how snooty everyone was on the West side of town and how they lived in their cookie cutter homes with their cookie cutter families, so prim, proper, and perfect. Living here was everything against who I was. I wasn't that mold and never would be, but I might as well enjoy the positives for the short time I would be there.
    I pulled out a chair in front of Max and sat. I reached over and scooped some noodles and chicken on the plate. He handed me chopsticks with a smile and I grabbed the fork next to the wontons. Other than the crunching and chewing, we ate in silence. Sometimes conversations weren't needed. Sometimes the company of another person was just enough.
    Max's phone rang and a picture of a pretty girl popped up on the screen. I glanced down at it then back at my food. Had he lied about having a girlfriend? Did it really matter? He answered the phone with a big smile on his face and leaned back in the chair. I could somewhat make out what she was saying.
    "Tonight?" His eyes seemed to pierce straight through me.
    He laughed. "I wouldn't miss that for the world."
    A date, possibly? I tried to think of all the things I wouldn't miss for the world and I came up short of ideas. Maybe he didn't have a girlfriend but was seeing someone. The possibilities were stacking up in my thoughts.
    "Can I bring someone?" His eyes had never left me. There was that nervous pit in my stomach again. The one that seemed to come and go like the waves on the beach.
    "Thanks, babe. See you then." He sat his phone on the table then scooted his plate out of the way. Max interlocked his fingers then gave me a little side smirk. "Do you have plans tonight?"
    The question was simple, but I felt like there was so much behind it. Could I possibly be the someone he wanted to take with him?
    "I do actually." But I kind of wished I didn't.
    "Can you cancel?"
    What he was asking me was could I ditch my boyfriend of 4 years to rendezvous with him, my soon-to-be stepbrother. My heart shot spikes of excitement and guilt through my veins and that was when I decided to choose my conflict. I'd take the chance.
    "What time?" I asked.
    "Eight."
    "It's a maybe. It all depends on how something goes."
    "Fair enough."
    Tonight at 6:00 p.m., when Richard came to pick me up, I'd decide then about our future. I couldn't be a cheater but as each day passed, I knew I didn't want to be with someone who loved alcohol more than me.
    "Hopefully you'll join me. Guaranteed good time." Max stood and started cleaning the mess from the table then walked away.
    I sat and asked myself what the fuck I was doing.
    I really didn't know the answer to that question.

 
    Chapter Nine
    Chelsea
     
    RICHARD WOULD BE here any minute and a part of me wished I would have just told him we needed time apart over the phone, but I wanted to give him one last chance. After the other night when he grabbed me so hard he left bruises, I knew that we couldn't continue on this destructive path. The past two years had been rocky and his need to drink became more important than us. Richard needed help but refused to get it. In his mind, he was just having a good time and I always ruined it when I cut him off. He had an addiction. I understood it but he didn't.
    For years, I tried to deny it but lately he had become more physical and aggressive. I couldn't put my life in his hands any longer and every time I got in a vehicle with him after he had been drinking, that's what I was doing. He was putting mine and everyone's lives at risk. The thought of him getting behind a wheel after he drank all night sickened me, especially because a drunk driver