“H’llo?” I gasped.

“Maria?” Max’s voice was tinged with concern.

“Max,” my voice warmed to him immediately, he doesn’t know how I prayed it would be him. “Are you alone? I mean, um, is Tess there?”

“She’s in the shower,” he replied quietly. “Maria, Maria…” he almost moaned in the phone. I bit back a giggle. The sex wasn’t *that* good. On second thought…

“I’ll be alone tonight,” I promised. “Come to me, Max, please?”

“I can’t promise,” he whispered, quieter now. I heard Tess, calling to him. “I’ll try, love.” I heard the phone click softly in my ear and I knew he’d hung up the telephone.

Anticipation slid through me like a hot knife through butter. I felt it tingle up my spine, tickling at my ribs, and in my ears. Somewhere, deep in my heart, Liz Parker tells me that I’m being completely ridiculous. Somehow, she’s telling me this is a mistake, that we’re not fooling anyone. Liz was always the strong, dependable one. She would know what to do, I know that I should pick up the phone and call her, that she should counsel me in good measure.

But I can’t do this to her. I can’t break her heart, and I know this would. I still keep in very close touch with Liz. I visit her every chance I get, I love Liz. And I know Liz has tried everything—everything to get him out of her head, out of her heart. I mean, she even married another man, for Christ’s sakes. I can’t tell her what I’ve done, what I am doing—it would kill her now. Instead, I put a kettle of tea onto boil, and pad around my house.

I couldn’t believe that I, Maria DeLuca was involved, finally, with Max Evans. Why on Earth would he want someone like me? And what in the hell was I doing, having an affair with a married man? It seemed like I was here, but now someone had taken my place.

I headed to my bathroom to draw a bath—I wanted to be perfect for his arrival. Everything about our time together should be perfect. In the warm water, I picked my best soap, the creamy Oil of Olay and lathered soapy suds across my shoulders and my perky breasts. I slowly rubbed my fingers around my nipples, feeling them rise under my fingertips. I rub lotion into my breasts, feeling the slippery softness in my palms. I’ve always wondered why men were so fascinated with breasts—now I think I know. Slowly, I spread my legs and brought my fingers to seek the hot folds. I felt the warm water of my bath rush to fill the void my fingers made, and I felt it lap against my lips and against my clit. I sank lower into my tub, carefully lifting one leg up to the side of the tub. I soaped and lathered my legs, dragging the razor across to make my legs feel as silky smooth as my breasts. The lotion then sank into my skin and I felt rejuvenated. Stepping out, I wrapped up in my robe and wrapped my head in a turban of terrycloth.

I dried my hair slowly, munching on some strawberries as I got ready, putting on make-up and fixing my hair, back, like before. I answered his knock wearing my robe, not my intention, but certainly a reasonable substitute. His eyes fell appreciatively down the v-neck and his hand trembled as he uses the cotton sash to draw me to his chest. I met his mouth, placing my hands on either side of his face. The sweet man shaved for me. His face was smooth and his breath minty as he breathed heavily against my cheek.

“You taste so sweet,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around me.

“How did you get away?” I murmured back, pulling away only slightly to look into his eyes.

“I started a riot in the prison laundry room. I had to sneak out on a guard’s truck,” he replied, with one of his patented Max grins.

“Well, would the prisoner like a drink?” I made him one anyway and we sat drinking it together. “So what’s with the alcohol? You never were able to take it before…” I mentioned.

“That’s one thing Tess has taught me,” he admitted. “Total control.”

“So, what kind of birth control have you got Tess on?” I asked, hoping my voice didn’t crack as I did so. My stomach was nervous, doing flip-flops, the same way that my heart was clenching in my chest.

“The very best kind,” he smiled. “We sleep in different beds.”

“So how does Tess like being Donna Reed?” I got up from the sofa and poured myself another drink.

“Oh, we have different rooms,” he inserted.

I processed this new information. “I just meant with the whole ‘perfect life’ concept,” I continued.

“She likes it, I guess. She doesn’t do anything. She goes to work everyday…”

“At the flower shop?” I asked, interrupting.

“Yeah, about six months ago the owner had a heart attack, and so now she basically runs the place. She can make everything look perfect, so it’s the most successful place in town. We’ve done well,” Max admitted.

“And you…you’re unhappy?” I clarified, watching myself swirl my glass around so that the amber liquid made a lazy whirlpool in it.

“Maria, you have no idea. It’s insanity, the way we live. Tess doesn’t believe in love, and I am too caught up in the love that I can’t have, because I love too much. Tess is always searching for a way to get home, but she wants to do it by sitting and doing nothing. She wants the answer to come to her. God’s honest truth is that I don’t want to go home. I just want to be happy here. That’s where all of my heartaches have come from—trying to find ‘the truth’ or ‘our home’ instead of love, the one thing that could make me happy.”

“Why doesn’t Tess believe in love?” I asked softly, content to let him explain. I want to know how to make him happy.

“Tess is…she’s different, Maria. She doesn’t have any emotions, not any of the real ones, anyway. The only emotion she has is the need to go home. I’m different—I’m here on Earth, and I like it here. I want to feel everything and do everything I can while I’m alive, and here.”

“Are you saying then, that Michael and Isabel made the wrong choices?”

“I’m saying they’re different. They just found a different love—they compromised between our world and the world Tess knows all about. They just…” Max broke off, seeming to have lost all energy to continue.

“I understand,” I said softly. Max seemed to be ready to drop the conversation, but I had to know something first. “Max, do you believe in God?”

Max seemed genuinely surprised, and he lifted his head to answer, but instead beckoned me to his lap. I went willingly, and nestled myself in his arms. I smelled his sweet breath, tainted by liquor, as he breathed on my mouth.

“Dean always said he didn’t believe in God, but he was afraid of him. Well, I believe in God, and the only thing I’m afraid of is Keyser Soze,” Max replied, his voice deep and husky.

I rolled my eyes and from behind me, I could feel him grinning.

“You are such a goofball,” I replied, smacking his arm lightly. I was ready for the mood to lighten, and I was so buzzed that I no longer needed to know if Max did or did not believe in God.

I snuggled up against his neck, and suddenly the only thing I needed to know was whether or not we would be making love. It was as if I didn’t want or need to make love to him, but somehow sitting here in the dark living room of my apartment with a good glass of whiskey, and a wonderful man holding me seemed like it was enough.

But leaning back, kissing him, I knew my body wanted more. He rubbed my back tenderly and I felt his fingers across the back of my neck. He massaged the muscles and I slowly felt his hands drift across my breasts.

“I thought about you all day today,” he whispered softly.

“Oh, yeah…what did you think about?”

“I thought about your soft lips, and your shiny hair…I thought all about your legs, and how they were wrapped around me when we…”

“Had sex?” I supplied helpfully.

“Made love,” he leered suggestively. I grinned.

“Is that all you thought about?” I asked, rubbing the back of his hand.

I am startled when he answers with a “yes.”

* * *

All I could think about was how much more Maria deserved. I pulled her into this affair with no forethought to her feelings or reactions, but now they seem like the most important things in the world.

We didn’t make love that night, but instead I left quietly at dawn and went home.

“Good morning Max,” Tess stood over the stove making her morning breakfast as I entered the kitchen. I thought to myself that surely she must know that something has been going on, but she said nothing at this particular moment. I mumbled hello and stumbled around, making breakfast, trying in vain to look like I just got up. Which technically, I had just awoken—I had just done it across town.

As we sat across from one another, she began to stare me down. I knew she was trying once again—to no avail, I might add—to play her mind games with me.

“Tessa,” I regarded her somewhat differently this morning. “Would you like to get a dog?”

“A dog, Max?” she asked, startled, again with that infernal expression! She acts like she has no idea what is going on, or what I’ve said. I can’t stand that ridiculous expression! I rolled my eyes at her.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” I demand harshly.

“Well, I’m sorry Max,” Tess managed a slight unamused chuckle in her throat. “You’ve just never said anything about this before…”

“Well, since I’ve agreed to be the head of the department, it’s going to mean a few more late nights,” I tried to sound casual. “Maybe we should get a dog to keep you company.”

“Late nights, Max?”

“Do you listen to a word I say? I just told you I’d be working later.”

“I just think you should have discussed it with me before taking that position,” Tess argued. “I think I could support you—I think you should be doing something you love to do. I want you to be happy, Max.”

“*YOU* want *me* to be happy?” I was getting angry, but I knew I had to maintain my emotional control. Tess looked at me with wide eyes. “Sometimes, Tess, you just…amaze me,” I finished dryly. I got up and moved away from the table.

“I’m going out,” I informed her as I took my coat.

“Where are you going Max?” Tess protested. “You spent the night over at Michael’s last night again, didn’t you? It’s Saturday…and I need to go shopping.”

“Shop, then, Tess. I’m leaving,” I said, moving out the door and setting off at a swift jog towards Michael’s.