My Love Until the Last Goodbye (Mary and Maximus) novel Chapter 21

Suddenly, a deep sense of sorrow washed over him, and he began to feel short of breath as he remembered how just a few weeks ago, she would be waiting for him in the living room with a big smile, saying, “Maximus, dinner is ready! Come on, get comfortable, and let’s eat!”

Her broad smile made him feel at ease just by looking at her. That night, the dinner had a special, homely touch.

“Do you remember what day it is today?”

“No,” Maximus replied, his tone cold and cutting.

“It’s our anniversary, silly! I knew you’d forget, but I didn’t, so I made a dinner with all your favorite dishes! I’ve been practicing with Emma, and I think I’m getting better!”

His wife was like a parrot; once she started talking, there was no stopping her. She talked and talked, telling him about her day, how she bought the ingredients, and how she had picked the freshest fruits and vegetables for the meal. Without paying attention to what she was saying, he got lost in the memory of what had happened that afternoon at his office.

That afternoon, Alexia had been working with Maximus, and he had felt the urge to relieve his stress with her on his desk. Without realizing it, she had left marks on his neck and chest. While reaching for a piece of bread, he exposed his neck, and Mary noticed the large mark. Her expression changed, and she threw a glass of wine, which shattered against the wall, staining his shirt. Maximus didn’t see the change coming, and a shard of glass nearly cut his face.

“You’re crazy! What’s wrong with you?”

“I’ve spent all day preparing this dinner, taking care of every detail, and you... you...” Mary said, struggling to keep her composure. “You’ve been with Alexia, haven’t you? I’m sick of this; I’ve had enough of you! You son of a bitch! Bastard!”

Mary had never spoken to him like that, in Hesperian, no less. Although he didn’t understand much, he recognized the curse words—those were the first things she had taught him in their initial conversations, and he knew what they meant.

“What did you just call me?”

“You’re a son of a bitch! I’m so fucking fed up with you!”

“I’ve never spoken to you that way, so why do you have to talk to me like this?”

“I hate you! Bastard!”