He didn’t want to tell him. He didn’t want to even think about that day. Even though he’d done nothing but think about it for the past week. But before he realized it, he was telling Wes the whole story.

“And please don’t tell me I shouldn’t have called on her in front of the world, I know that, trust me, I know that. If I could only go back to that moment, if I could just take that back, everything would be different. Because that’s the thing that made her break up with me, that was her last straw.” He told Wes about rushing to her house, and then their fight, and then the moment when he’d—just for a second—thought she’d forgiven him. “She said she loves me, but we’re too different, I’m too impulsive and public, and she’s too measured and thoughtful and private—she didn’t use those words, but that’s what she meant—and we’ll never be happy together.”

He sank back into the couch cushions and drank his beer. There. At least that was over. Maybe now that he told someone about it, he’d feel better.

He doubted that, but it was worth a try.

“And then what did you say?” Wes asked him.

Max just stared at his friend.

“I didn’t say anything,” he said after a long moment. “She told me I’d better go, so I left.”

He didn’t want to think about that moment he’d left Olivia’s house ever again. Or that nightmare of a drive home.

“Have you reached out to her since then?”

Max shrugged.

“I sent her cakes. That first weekend after. With messages on top. I thought . . . But I was wrong. She texted me and told me to stop.”

Wes started to laugh, then looked at Max and stopped.

“How . . . how many cakes did you send her?”

Max pushed his fingers through his hair.

“Four or five, I don’t remember now. Does it matter? It didn’t work.”

Wes folded his hands together.

“Well? What are you going to do next? Nothing? Are you just going to give up?”

Max slammed his empty beer bottle down on the coffee table.

“I don’t know! I don’t know what to do here! She doesn’t want anything to do with me, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Wes was silent for a moment.

“Do you agree with her that the two of you could never be happy together?” he asked.

Max threw his hands in the air.

“No! I was happier with her than I’d been in years. I might have been happier with her than I’ve ever been! I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her! I know she had hesitations because of my job, and the media, and the storm she’s been through, but I tried to support her through that, I thought I supported her through that. I wish she’d told me that she needed more from me; I would have given it. I know I fucked up, but good God, I’m miserable without her.”

God, he sounded so pathetic. But to be fair, he felt as pathetic as he sounded.

Wes nodded.

“Okay, but I asked you if the two of you could be happy together. You just told me about you and your happiness. Can Olivia be happy? With you?”

Fuck.

“Did I really . . .” Max dropped his head in his hands. “Of course I did. I’m a selfish jerk, that’s why she broke up with me in the first place, isn’t it?”

Wes smacked his shoulder after a few moments and Max looked up.

“Okay, enough wallowing. How are you going to try to get her back?” Wes asked.

Max knocked his beer bottle onto the floor.

“If I knew that, don’t you think I would have done it already?” he yelled. Then he looked at the bottle, aghast.

“I can’t believe I’m throwing things. I’m an asshole, what’s wrong with me?”

Wes picked up his phone.

“I’m ordering some food. Like my momma always says, you can’t have important conversations on an empty stomach. This is why toddlers have so many tantrums; they get hungry and lose it. You probably haven’t eaten all day, have you?” Wes looked him over. “Actually, from the looks of you, you probably haven’t eaten all week.”

Max tried to remember the last time he’d eaten.

“I think there were crackers on the airplane. And yesterday I had a few Girl Scout Cookies for dinner; there were some Thin Mints left in my freezer.”

Wes clicked a few buttons on his phone, then went to the kitchen and tossed Max a bag of potato chips.

“First of all, pizza is on its way. Second, eat those. Third, drink this.” He put a glass of water in front of Max. “After all of that, we can talk. Chips are the wrong thing, you need an apple, or some vegetables, but it’s all we’ve got, so make the best of it.”

Max didn’t want the water, or the chips, but he knew that look on Wes’s face all too well. He opened the bag and stuffed a handful of chips in his mouth. After that, and a few sips of water, he turned to his friend.

“Thanks. And . . . Wes, I don’t know what to do. I’m usually good at countering any argument, you know I am. But I don’t know how to deal with this one. You’re right, I need to figure out how to make her happy; I want to make her happy, more than anything. I told her I loved her, I told her I was sorry, I told her I miss her, but that was the wrong thing, and I don’t know what the right thing is. I feel like I’m letting my chance at the woman I love slip away, but I’m frozen.”

Wes tipped the bag of chips toward him and took one, then pushed it back to Max.

“Eat more of those. Now, do you know why those were the wrong things to say?”

Max ate another handful of chips.

“I feel like I’m back in law school and got called on and didn’t do the reading. No, of course I don’t know why! If I knew why, don’t you think I would have said something else?”

Wes took a sip of his beer and relaxed against the couch cushions.

“Yes, I do think that, asshole. The point is you gotta figure it out.”

There was silence in the room for a while as Max finished the bag of chips and took two more sips of water. Then he took a long, deep breath.

“Because those things are about me. Not about her, or how she’s feeling, or the problems she brought up, or how we can resolve them.”

Wes gave him a smug smile that Max was sure his political opponents hated.

“See, I knew all you needed was a snack.”

Max would get furious at Wes’s treating him like a damn toddler, but he knew he deserved it. Plus . . . maybe he had needed a snack.

“That’s exactly right,” Wes continued. “In order to get her back, you need to tell her how you’re going to fix this, how the two of you can fix this together.” He looked at Max for a long moment. “Do you think you can? Fix this, I mean?”

Max closed his eyes.

“I don’t know. Maybe she’s decided there’s nothing I can do, maybe she wants nothing to do with me or politics or anyone who has ever had their name in the paper, but I’ve got to try. I’ve got to see if there’s a way around or through this for us.” He winced. “Why didn’t I realize that before? Am I that self-centered?” He looked at Wes. “Please don’t answer that.”

Wes patted him on the shoulder.