Maria nodded. She probably shouldn't leave her. After all, Maria wasn't in a proper state of mind. Heaven only knew what she might do. But they would all be gone in tomorrow and Maria would be alone then. She would just have to trust that she would be okay.

"If you need anything, no matter what time it is, you call me okay?" Again, Maria nodded. "And Max will be here in a little while." She stared at her friend. She saw no life in her. Maria was dead behind her eyes. Isabel wondered if she looked like that. But she wasn't as upset as Maria. As any of them, really. She knew that he was okay. And she wasn't sure how she knew it, but she did. She knew it like she knew how to breathe.

Finally she reached out and hugged Maria tightly, trying to show her, to make her see that he was all right. But when she pulled away she saw that Maria's eyes had not changed. She didn't want to leave until they did. But she was tired and she could barely keep her eyes open. Eventually, she turned to leave.

"Good-bye, Isabel," Maria's tiny voice called out.

She turned back to look at her friend. "Good-bye, Maria." She paused. "I love you." Maria managed a small smile. "I love you too."

Isabel smiled back at her and then started toward the car. They waited until Maria was inside and then they pulled away. Isabel looked over at Paul and sighed. She felt torn. Never since she had left Roswell had she wanted to return. And a part of her still wanted to go back to New York and resume her life of freedom and fun. But for the first time in eight years, she felt a part of her that yearned to stay.

*****

She sat and stared at him for a long time. Maybe they didn't need words to communicate, she thought. But looking into his eyes, she did not see the warm loving ones that she used to be able to read like a book. They were cold and dead and she couldn't understand why. Was this because of Michael or because of her? A part of her wanted them to be dead because of her. A part of her thought that he deserved that. But another part of her wanted to look at him and see something of the boy that she had loved.

He finally turned his eyes away. The memories were just too damn strong. He took a deep breath. Why was he breathing? When someone is dead inside, they should stop breathing. Maybe it was an alien thing. Maybe they just kept right on living after their insides shriveled up and died. But Michael had died. More than anything, Max longed to join him. He closed his eyes at that last thought, knowing that he should be more concerned about it than he was.

"Max..." she started. She had no idea what to say. She should tell him about her life. About Kyle. About how she doesn't think about him anymore. Except that would be a lie. She does think about him, all the time. Not a day goes by, even now, that she doesn't at least wonder what Max Evans is doing. And she silently curses herself everyday when she does that.

"Liz, look, I don't really know what to say," he said bluntly. This was torture and it had to end. He could not sit this close to her anymore. He wanted to, he wanted to grab her and look into her eyes and see all of that love that used to be there. But it wasn't there when she looked at him.

"Tell me about Texas," she said in a small voice. She wasn't used to him being so harsh.

He looked down at the table and studied the counter top. "It's okay, I guess," he said. What did she want to know? That it had been a mistake, that all of this was just one huge mistake that he wished everyday that he could fix?

"Are you happy?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes. What did she want his answer to be?

He stared at her for a long time. No, he wasn't happy. No, he hadn't been happy in four years. "I don't know," he said. Now he was a liar on top of everything else. Oh, well, what did it matter? "Are you?"

She was startled by the question. Was she happy? "Yes," she answered honestly. He looked away, wincing at the words. Did he not want that for her? After everything that he had put her through, did he not want her to be happy? She could feel anger rising within her.

"Max, I'm just being honest, okay? I am happy. My world did not end when you left."

"You left," he said, turning his head to look at her again. "You left, not me."

She sighed. "Fine, I was the one who physically left. But you had left me months before that and don't you dare deny it." She couldn't believe the anger in her voice. All of this time she had thought that she was past it. That she had put it all behind her. She had been lying to herself.

"Liz, I-" his voice choked and she realized that he was near tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If I had known then..." his voice trailed off.

She was surprised. He had been so cold up until now. She watched as he placed his head in his hands. On instinct, she stood up and moved to the other side of the booth and put her arms around him. He put his arms around her waist and buried his head in her neck. A flood of memories washed over her. She wasn't sure if they were hers or his, but they hit her all at once and she was back in their apartment, holding onto him tightly.

>>> "I'm sorry, Max."

"We were so close, Liz. So close." He buried his head deeper into her neck. He had never felt so frustrated. "We're never really going to find anything, are we?" He raised his head and looked at her.

"Yes, you will, Max. We will. This was not for nothing. This information will just lead us closer to the truth," she said, staring deeply into his eyes. Trust me, Max.

He wanted to believe her, but he knew that she was lying. If he couldn't find his way to his own home, then there was no way that she could. The tears continued to fall and he tightened his grip around her waist. He was embarrassing himself, really. Crying like a baby over something that they had never been sure of anyway. But he and Michael were so close. So damn close.

"It will be okay," she said firmly, willing it to be so. <<<

She pulled away from him quickly and the memory stopped. This was wrong, she shouldn't be doing this. She stood up but he grabbed her wrist.

"Liz, please, don't go."

She hesitated and then sat down across from him again. He stared at her until she looked away. Her emotions were flooding her brain. She had never felt so much anger and hurt and confusion all at the same time. And love. There in the back of it all, she still felt love.

"Max, I can't do this, okay? I mean it, I can't. I love him. I really do."

He nodded. "I know, I saw it." She stared down at the table. She had forgotten what it was like to have your feelings broadcast every time you touched someone. "I'm glad," he said. "I'm glad you're happy, I really am. You deserve it."

"So do you," she said, finally meeting his gaze. "If there is one thing that all of this should teach us, it's that life is precious. You are just as mortal as we are. You need to find a way to be happy with your life."

He concentrated on blinking. She couldn't understand. He could never be happy again. She was in love with Kyle. Truly in love. He had seen it when she touched him. He had seen her running into Kyle on her daily jog through the park. He had seen them having coffee together. He had seen them tentatively kiss and then pull away. He had seen the two of them together in their apartment, smiling and happy.

She reached across the table and touched his hand. She tried to will her thoughts to him. She thought of all of the time that she had spent being miserable in Texas while he was gone. She thought of all of the months that she had spent waiting for him to return to normal after his trip with Michael had gone awry. She thought of the relief that she had felt when she got the job offer in Chicago. And lastly, she thought of all of the love that she had felt for him, then and now and always.

He pulled his hand away. "Max," she said, trying to form the right words. "I was upset and angry when I left. I wanted you to be someone that you're not. And I didn't have the right to demand that. But I'm glad that I found the life that I did in Chicago. And I want you to be glad with you're life in Texas. It's where you belong. Don't resent yourself for being who you are."

"I wish that I could have been who you want me to be," he said.

"You are exactly who I want you to be right now. I'm closer to you than I am to anyone in the world. You can see parts of me that no one else can. I want to be able to consider you to be my friend. I want to be able to remember you without all of the hurt."