“Who the hell are you?”
Max didn't let go, and he didn't step back.
“Max Dickerson.”
“I asked who the hell you are.”
“I told you. Max Dickerson.”
Amos took a step forward. Max didn't move.
They stared at each other across the threshold, the air sinking heavy between them.
Amos turned to look at me.
“You're living with him?”
I said nothing.
“I'm talking to you. Are you living with him or not?”
Max shifted, putting himself between us.
“She's done with you. Clean.”
“I wasn't asking you!”
Amos shouted it at him, then locked his eyes on me again. “Answer me.”
I looked at him. Stubble, red-rimmed eyes, one shirt button done up wrong, the collar crooked.
Ten years, and I'd never seen him this wrecked.
“Go home, Amos.”
“I'm not going home.”
“Then standing here won't do anything.”
He pointed at Max. “What gives you the right?”
Max's brow flickered, but he didn't speak.
I looked at Amos. “Just go. Stop making a scene.”
“Making a scene?”
He laughed, and it was uglier than crying. “Ten years with you, and you call this a scene?”
He looked down at the flowers on the floor, bent, and picked them up. A few petals had broken off and lay scattered.
He held them out to me.
“Take them.”
I didn't.
His hand hung there in the air for a few seconds, then slowly came back down.
Max spoke. “She doesn't want them. Don't push her.”
Amos threw the flowers to the ground.
Petals scattered everywhere, and water splashed onto Max's slippers.
Max looked down at it. He didn't move away.
“Feels good now, doesn't it?” Amos asked him.
“No.”
“You won. You're pretty pleased with yourself, aren't you?”
Max looked at him. “There's nothing to be pleased about.”
“Cut the act.”
Max's voice stayed level. “You think I'm the one who edged you out? You did that to yourself.”
Amos's fists clenched.
I tugged Max's sleeve. “Don't. Leave it.”
Max stepped back and cleared the doorway.
Amos stood there, his chest heaving.
He looked at me, his eyes shot through with red.
“Just answer me one thing. You and him, is it real?”
“It's real.”
“Since when?”
“After we broke up.”
“You're lying.”
“I'm not.”
“Three days after we split and you're with him? Tell me you didn't already have someone lined up.”
Max spoke. “She never came to me. I'm the one who came to her.”
Amos stared at him.
“I bought the ring. I pursued her. She didn't come looking for me.”
Amos's chest heaved hard, his knuckles white.
I took a step forward. “Go home, Amos. Don't come back.”
“And if I don't?”
“Then you'll only humiliate yourself more.”
He stared at me, something turning over in his eyes.
I turned and walked back inside without looking back.
Max stood in the doorway and didn't close the door right away.
Amos's voice came from behind me, badly hoarse.
“If you ever treat her badly, I'll kill you.”
Max said nothing and shut the door.
In the moment it closed, I saw Amos still standing there, the crushed flowers clutched in his hand.
Max turned and glanced at me.
“Are you okay?”
I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.
“I'm okay.”
Outside, something slammed against the wall, then footsteps, growing fainter and fainter.
