A Fighting Chance by Annalisa Nicole Page B

all do. I want my twin back. I want all of her, not this hollow, wasting away to almost nothing, ghost.”
    Yet another layer chipped away.
    Kyle stands and places his hand on my shoulder. He gives it a squeeze and kisses my hair. I hear Amelia walking over to the bed.
    “I made you a sandwich,” she says sniffling. “I’m just going to leave it here for you. I’ve told you this before. I don’t claim to know what you went through all those years. I only had a little taste of it. You saved my life. I owe you my world. I have a son because of you. You didn’t hesitate for one second when he held a gun to my head. You have nothing to be sorry for in taking his life. Do you hear me? Nothing. Believe me when I say, I know it upsets you. But if you hadn’t done what you did, he wouldn’t have wasted another second. He would have shot me in the head and killed me. Chloe, you’re my hero. And for that, I am eternally grateful to you and to Max. I need you to come back to me, to us. I love you, Chloe.”
    I hear them both walk to the door and close it behind them. I turn around and look at that sandwich, and even if I had an appetite and wanted to eat it, I don’t think it would be possible with the huge lump in my throat. I sure as hell hope there aren’t any more Wellingtons lined up to talk to me. I don’t know how much more I can take.
    I curl back in bed and stare at the sandwich glaring back at me. About thirty minutes of wrestling with myself about eating it or not eating it, the front door opens and Max comes back in. I dart my eyes away from the food and watch him move around in the kitchen as he makes his own sandwich. He really is nice to look at. He sits down at the table, facing me and never breaks eye contact as he eats. My mouth waters and damn it, I want to eat my sandwich, too. He finishes his sandwich, walks his plate to the sink, and then climbs into bed behind me. He wraps his arms securely around me and sighs.
    “Are you going to eat it, or fucking stare at it all afternoon?” he asks.
    Slowly his arm gets heavy on my waist and his breathing becomes heavy with a slight snore. Ever so gently, so I don’t disturb him, I grab the sandwich and take a bite. Oh my God. Food never tasted as good as this sandwich does right now. Max gives me a squeeze and I feel his smile on the back of my neck. Bastard.
    It’s only mid-day and I’m not quite sure what Max has in store for me for the rest of the day. He still has me wrapped securely in his arms, and I’m not sure if it’s so he makes sure I don’t go anywhere, or if he’s afraid if he lets go of me he’ll crumble into a million pieces. Max’s demeanor has totally changed. The lines in his forehead and the pain in his eyes tell me this is more than just about me. He’s devastated by Samuel’s death. He’s an emotional train wreck, and sleep is just what he needs right now. Being in Max’s arms is safe, it’s always been safe. I close my eyes and let his steady breathing lull me into my own peaceful sleep. One that’s void of demons and voices.
    I hear quiet garbled voices, and at first I start to panic that it’s him, but as I come fully awake, I recognize that it’s Max’s voice. But there’s also a woman’s voice. I don’t feel Max’s weight on me, and as I fully open my eyes and focus on Max sitting at the table with his hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. Sitting across from him is my therapist, Fiona. Max’s eyes instantly find mine and he smiles.
    “I’ll just be outside and leave you two ladies to talk,” he says, gets up and heads out the door.
    If I didn’t think he was the sweetest man on earth for all the trouble he’s going through just for me, and if I wasn’t falling back in love with him again, I think I would kill him right now. Oh, who am I kidding? I never fell out of love with him. As much as I want to fight this, and still think that this is a waste of time on everyone’s part, I sigh and haul my ass out of