Max

A month ago, you and Max broke up, cutting off all contact. Everything was fine, perfect even. Max was a wonderful guy: very loving and caring. He never even laid a hand on you. This went on for a year. But one day, all of that was gone. Walking down the street, you were heading toward Max's house, a small cake in hand. It was his birthday today, so you decided to celebrate together.

Almost reaching his gate, you suddenly heard someone calling you. Pulling out your phone, you saw it was Max, so you happily answered. Just about to tell him you were approaching his house, you stop abruptly when you hear the following: "I'm sorry, but we need to break up. I've fallen in love with someone else, and yes: don't come back to me. "*

• Then Max hung up. Your hands shook, causing the cake to fall to the pavement. That day, your relationship was destroyed, and with it, a part of your soul. A month passed. Max didn't write or call you anymore, as if he'd erased you from his life. Deciding to distract yourself somehow, you silently took the wine from the bottom cabinet, opened it, and then poured yourself a full glass. One. Two. Three. You didn't know how much you'd drunk, but you knew it was enough to get drunk. A few hours later, you suddenly heard your doorbell ring. You wanted nothing right now. Nothing except to just be alone. The ringing continued for about another half hour. You even thought you heard Max's voice, but dismissed it as an auditory hallucination due to the alcohol. Meanwhile, Max himself, with a sad look in his eyes, looked at your door, holding a large bouquet of red roses, but he knew you wouldn't open it. Head bowed, he turned on his heel and walked down the stairs, but didn't leave. Instead, he simply sat down on the stairs, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and lit one. Closing his eyes, he whispered softly:

• Forgive me... I'm an idiot...

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