Page 60 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?

THIRTY

Fries, Mayonnaise, and Us

I t was almost as if the universe knew that things had fallen into place. A week went by. And then six. Each moment Ella spent with Max was better than the last. They were so very different, which kept life interesting and full of silly debates and discoveries.

“I don’t understand how fries dipped in mayonnaise are allowed by law when ketchup is sitting right there,” Ella once told Max as she watched her across the table at Maple and Main, the little diner near the center of town.

“I have a feeling you’ve never tried it.”

“Oh, and I think we’re gonna have to leave it that way. Pass the ketchup, weirdo,” she’d said with a challenging grin. It earned her a kiss first.

“Did you taste the mayonnaise?” Max asked, nodding with authority.

“Gasp and glare. You tricked me with your mayonnaise lips, and know it.”

Max had sat back in the red vinyl booth looking like the winner of the third-grade spelling bee. “Worth it.”

But at the same time, the two of them were in sync in the ways that mattered.

They took care of each other when one had a hard day, instinctively knowing to take up more of the slack.

They were tolerant of conflicts in their schedules and took turns compromising when necessary.

Ella had even had dinner with Max’s parents at their home.

Twice. Mayumi told her all about her treatment plan and how encouraged the doctors were feeling about her progress.

Max’s father, Glenn, promised to show her how to box just like he’d taught Max.

She was looking forward to it, and enjoyed shopping for her own gloves with Max.

That morning, Ella woke to a gorgeous March offering that made her want to lift her shoulders to her ears. Crisp and only mildly chilly, with sunshine streaming in through Max’s kitchen window, as if it were painting the walls with warmth.

Max was dressed for work in gray pants and a white dress shirt with oversized cuffs as she stood, sipping her coffee near the pot, when Ella padded in, still happily wearing Max’s oversized Commanders T-shirt, her newfound favorite.

“Good morning, babe.”

Ella rubbed her eyes and grinned. “Hey, you. I didn’t even hear the shower.” She took a moment to stretch before finishing her walk around the island.

“You were sleeping hard. Here. I made you a cup,” Max said, handing the oversized blue mug to Ella.

They grinned at each other and shared a kiss before Max continued on her way, packing her bag, assembling her lunch, and generally looking fantastic while she did it.

Ella cradled the warm ceramic mug in both hands and used the time to wake up while Max moved around the kitchen, accomplishing her morning tasks.

Ella loved these quiet moments. Somehow, Max seemed lighter this morning as if she might float away, which made sense.

It was precisely the way Ella felt these days, too, like a missing puzzle piece had clicked into place, making everything as it should be.

“What are your plans today?” Max asked.

“Hmm. Let’s see. Doug is looking at a soft reopening in a week, so I’ll swing by and see what kind of intense muscle I can lend his way.

” She offered a quick flex of her nonexistent biceps.

“I don’t know if you know this, but I’m freakishly strong.

” She’d woken up feeling playful and leaned into it.

“I didn’t.” Max’s eyes went wide. “Just look at you, you hulk. Want to meet me at the gym after work? I was gonna get in a few punches on the bag. You can meet Amanda.”

“The gym friend? I’m starting to think she’s a unicorn who exists only within those walls.” Ella sighed. “I’d love to, but I’m grabbing dinner with Rach.”

“Give her a hug for me.”

Ella placed a hand on her hip and shook her head. “You two have come a long way.”

“She sent me a text, you know, while we were apart.”

Ella widened her eyes. “I did not. Say more words.”

“Something to the effect of: get your shit together, Wyler, and fix this. She’s worth it.”

Ella relaxed against the counter and grinned. “I owe her a drink, then. Rach doesn’t mince words.”

“Never,” Max said appreciatively. “And what else today?”

“Well, I have an appointment with a realtor to take a look at some spaces. Rachel deserves her guest room back, and my finances are doing so much better since I’ve picked up some big covers. Did I mention that I’ve raised my prices? I’m still getting bookings like crazy.”

“Because you’re a ridiculously good digital artist. When you wave that electronic pencil around, I’m immediately wet.” She sipped her coffee and placed the mug on the granite countertop.

Ella laughed and approached. “I mean, we could put that to the test.”

“Or we could just do this.” She pulled Ella in and kissed her slowly. “Same effect.”

“I forget how good our mornings are.”

“And how good they will continue to be. That’s why you should cancel that appointment and move in with me.”

Ella smiled and then went still. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or serious.”

“Attorneys rarely joke, Ella.” She washed out her mug in the sink. “I’m entirely serious. We both know you’ll barely sleep at that new place. Move in with me. We’re in love.”

“We are, and I love saying it out loud. I love you. I just said it again.”

Max relaxed into a lazy grin. “I love you, too, and you need to know how deeply I’m in this thing.” She raised a shoulder. “I want you here all the time. My life is yours, and I want my home to be. What do you say to that?”

What did one say to that? Those were big words and they sucked up all the air.

Ella tried to wrap her mind around the offer.

This was a big step. One she didn’t take lightly.

“I say yes. I want to move in. I want to live together.” Her eyes went wide and she covered her mouth.

It was out there now, voiced for Max and the cosmos to hear.

It didn’t matter. She embraced the vulnerability, laughing when Max scooped her up, feet not quite touching the floor. “Okay, now who’s freakishly strong?”

“Best compliment ever. I kill myself at the gym. Do you understand my pain?” she said, looking up at Ella. “There should be some reward, and it’s this moment.”

“I’m very impressed with you. I want to show you later.” Ella kissed her as she slid back down Max’s body, which she loved every inch of. How did she get so lucky?

“At our place.”

Ella closed her eyes, overwhelmed by how happy this giant step forward made her.

They weren’t just a couple. They were moving forward with their lives intertwined.

There would be dinners together, lazy nights on the couch, snowball fights, and cozy book club meetings with stolen glances while Ariana and Stevie argued over pacing.

Ella pressed her cheek to Max’s shoulder and let herself imagine all of it.

A real life. Theirs. One they were building, day by day, together.

Ella clung to Max a little tighter, the weight of the moment settling in beneath her ribs.

There had been a time not so long ago when she’d believed she wasn’t enough.

Not steady enough, not successful enough, not lovable in any lasting way.

She’d spent a long time waiting for someone to see her fully and stay anyway, and now here Max was.

It undid her a little, in the best possible way.

Maybe the best love stories weren’t the ones where someone came to the rescue, but the ones where someone held your hand and said, You’re already everything . Max had done that, over and over, in ways both loud and quiet. In ways Ella could finally believe.

She smiled through the tears that suddenly sprang up, pressing her forehead to Max’s. “Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s write the next chapter.”

And she meant it. Because she knew now that she wasn’t just part of a love story, she was someone’s favorite one.

Max grinned and swept a strand of hair from Ella’s forehead.

“And the one after that, and the one after that until the pile is unending.” They shared another kiss against the kitchen counter before Max grabbed her lunch.

“Sonya’s husband is hosting a happy hour at Dirty Little Secret on Friday for her birthday.

What’s your late afternoon look like?” She slid the strap of her attaché onto her shoulder.

“Totally free. I can make it. Oh, I want to try their pear martini.”

“Perfect. Martinis, it is. I gotta hurry because I have an eight-thirty, but I’ll grab your dry cleaning on my way home. I love you. Text me and tell me all about Doug’s.”

“You got it, and I love you, too.” Ella watched, coffee in hand, as the love of her life headed for the door. She had the whole day stretched in front of her, and her heart overflowed.

Maybe it wasn’t fate or magic or even perfect timing that brought her here to Max. Maybe it was something better—two people who chose each other again and again, when one obstacle after another was tossed onto their path.

They never gave up. They understood that love wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t just the swoonworthy moments, but the quiet ones, too.

The morning coffees and shared routines, the learning, the laughter, the softness of being truly known.

If this were a romance novel, Ella thought, this would be the part where the reader closes the book with a smile, knowing that the best love stories don’t end on the last page. They just keep going.