Solo Love Ballad

Chapter3

We continued strolling around, chatting casually. Max talked about his personal life, and I listened, keeping him company. Although he shared some personal stories, he didn’t mention anything about the person on the phone.

Max mentioned that the last time he was in Festival Walk was when he went to the company that designed his house’s interior design. It turned out that his beautiful home was self-purchased. He had bought a place in Mid-levels Hong Kong in his late twenties, which suggested he must be pretty successful in his career.

I figured that since we hadn’t known each other long and weren’t exactly close yet, he might not feel it necessary to share all his private matters. So I didn't really care about that phone call just now.

Unknowingly, the shops were closing one after another, and the pedestrians on the road were dwindling.

Max had to wake up early for work the next day as stores began closing. He said: “I’d take a taxi home and drop you off on the way.”

Festival Walk was so close to my place that we barely exchanged a few words before arriving at my building.

Max’s hand held onto me, reluctant to let go.

After a moment, I asked: “Could I spend the night at your place?”

Max instantly broke into a smile and said, ” I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

I asked him and the driver to wait downstairs while I grabbed some overnight essentials.

When I got in the car, he eagerly took my bag, placed it by his feet, and pulled me tightly into his arms. Though I couldn’t see his face, I imagined he was smiling.

As the car sped along, streetlights rhythmically illuminated our faces.

Dark, light, dark, light.

The driver left the window slightly cracked, and the evening breeze on my face reminded me of the joy I felt as a child on school spring trip bus rides.

Now and then, Max would kiss my hair or my hand as if repeatedly confirming that I was there beside him.

When we got home, he tossed his shirt into the laundry basket.

Hong Kong’s humid summer was too much for this Frenchman.

He said he was going to shower and had already gone in when he suddenly ran back out, pressed himself against my back, and breathed into my ear, making me squirm like an insect and run around the living room.

Absolutely, Max eventually caught me and tossed me into the shower, just like he had thrown his clothes earlier.

The bathroom was originally very bright, but Max deliberately turned off the leading light, leaving only the floor lights on, and lit some candles.

The water was cold when we jumped into the shower and turned on the tap. I instinctively screamed and jumped away, only to feel someone press against my back.

“Are you still cold now?”

“...No, not anymore.”

Max panted like a beast, pressing me against the wall, hard inside and out between my legs. Whole body burning up, heat sensation gradually blurring the consciousness, in a moah sound released all. Then Max bent down and held me horizontally in his arms, and we greedily continued to roll around on the bed; the entanglement of lips and teeth was like an electric current that made the heart beat faster, and the two bodies were pressed tightly together. The blood around the body rushed to the top of the head, and even the nerve endings were dancing wildly. It was as if my whole body was embedded in his body, and I couldn't even breathe. Until the exhaustion, we only huffed and puffed to sleep.

Max’s alarm went off at six. In my tired state, I felt him softly kiss me before leaving out of bed. With the sound of the shower in the background, I drifted back to sleep.

When I opened my eyes again, Max was already dressed, and seeing me awake, he asked:" What coffee do you want?”

I followed him to the kitchen, where he had a large, sophisticated coffee machine that quickly produced a latte and placed it in front of me.

He drank a double espresso. I imagined the taste made me wince, but he thoroughly enjoyed it.

Seeing him almost finished with his coffee, I hurried to leave with him. But he said:” There was no rush, just to close the door when I left. ”

I asked him, ” How could you trust me so easily? What if I were a bad person who emptied your House?”

Max laughed and said:” I’d accept that fate. These two nights with you have been more precious than anything I own.”

Hearing this, I maintained a calm exterior, but my emotions were turbulent inside.

He kissed me goodbye and left like a husband, heading to work on an ordinary day.

I went to class carrying my things, and my friend commented that I was glowing. My love life was going well. Knowing she also used dating apps. I asked my friend:" How about your luck? ”

She shrugged, said:" I only met people looking for casual fun, and that serious guys wouldn’t accept that I had to return to Australia after my exchange program. ”

Hearing this made me feel somewhat sad, as I was someone who needed to return to Australia, too.

I had mentioned this to Max, but only during our app chat. We had yet to discuss it since meeting in person. I felt Max lived in the moment, seemingly unconcerned about the future or the past.

Max messaged me during lunch with my friend to ask about my evening plans.

“I want to see you and stay over my home. ”

“What would you want to do ?”

He suggested we could eat at home and have a quiet night if I was interested.

I was more than willing. After class, I packed some clean clothes before heading to his place.

He came down to meet me, immediately breaking into a big smile. I asked about his work, and he said it was tiring, but seeing me was the highlight of his day. He ordered takeout, and we watched House MD while eating.

Max said:" The House was so excellent!”

I asked:" If you also wished you had a female boss who always wore deep V-necks.?”

He laughed heartily and said, " I was only interested in one V right now.” He reached to pull at my clothes, but I caught his hand before he could.

At that moment, a w******p notification sounded, and just like during our dinner, Max's expression suddenly turned serious. Right before me, he responded in French, going back and forth for several messages. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the name "Léa" on the screen, and I wondered if it was the same person he'd spoken to on the phone last time.

"It was a message from family," Max explained briefly.

"Okay," I replied, not pressing further. After all, what could I say about a message from family?

During the next few days, we spent every evening together.

We had a routine: After class, I would go home and grab my things. Then I would head to Max’s place, where we’d have dinner, chat, drink, and hang out.

Everything we did together was so simple. I felt thrilled. At certain moments, it even felt like we could talk about anything with no secrets between us.

On Thursday night, just before bed, Max told me he was going out with friends for dinner the next evening.

“How about the weekend ?” I asked.

“I would be at the beach all day Saturday because I had plans to play volleyball with some friends. Then I was going to a friend’s junk birthday party on Sunday. ” He said.

I expected he would elaborate or suggest when we might see each other over the weekend. But there was no follow-up.

"So, we’re not meeting this weekend?" Even though I already knew Max had plans, I still wanted to hear it directly from him.

"Yes, I have plans this weekend, so I won’t be able to see you." His tone sounded like, You already know, so why ask again?

After hearing those words, I figured he was implying we wouldn’t meet over the weekend. I pretended not to care, but I felt a little disappointed.

“Well, it just so happens I have other things to do this weekend too. Good night!” Turning away as I said.

He leaned over to kiss my hair. But I barely responded.

Seeing that I didn’t respond, Max made no further moves. He turned off the light and said, “Good night, have a good rest.”

We didn’t do anything tonight; we each slept on our side.

Just as birdsong began outside the window the next morning, Max left the home early. By the time I woke up, he was already gone. I sat alone in the empty room on the bed. Thinking about our conversation from the night before, I started feeling down again.

I opened Tinder, which I hadn’t checked in a while. I saw that Max’s profile was still active. I remembered what my friend had said it’s never a good idea to put all your eggs in one basket.

I get attached too easily. As a result, I end up feeling hurt when I don’t get the same level of response.

Even though we spent every weekday night together, he hadn’t set aside any time for me over the weekend.

There was just a warm latte waiting for me on the kitchen table. Was this something he did because he still remembered I existed? Now I realize it was just that he needed his morning coffee anyway, and making an extra cup for me didn't require any additional time.

All those beautiful moments where I thought we had just one-sided feelings. Did he enjoy the time we spent together as much as I did? When had he even made those weekend plans? Did he think about me at all when he was planning his weekend? And this "Léa"—a family member—what kind of relationship does she have with him? Are they siblings or something else? He's never clearly explained.

I sipped my coffee, pacing around the room, trying to calm my troubled mind. Suddenly, a painting on the shelf caught my eye. I realized that although I had been to Max’s place several times, I’d never actually taken a good look around—I always came in the evening and left in the morning.

Behind the painting, a photo was tucked out of sight. In the photo, Max is sitting in a chair, holding a children’s book and speaking with a little girl with brown skin standing behind him. Looking at this photo, I began to wonder: What’s the connection between Max and this little girl? And why would he keep this photo hidden behind the painting?

The caffeine cleared my mind considerably after finishing my coffee.

I realized Max and I had never defined our relationship. I couldn’t act like his girlfriend and get upset when he didn’t prioritize me.

What right did I have? All I could do was quietly sulk and get upset with myself.

With these thoughts, I started swiping aimlessly through Tinder again.