The Billionaire Playboy's Regret (Lark and Max)

She entered the room and looked at the man laying with his eyes closed in the bed. He was still. Too still. She considered going back to get the doctor to see if perhaps he needed additional medical attention. His hair was dark and damp. His narrow nose was straight, and she wondered if she should dig out her compact to hold under it to see if he was breathing because he was stiff and unmoving.

"Are you coming in or just going to stand there looking at me?"

She jumped before swallowing nervously, "you wanted to see me first, why?"

He opened one eye and looked at her, "straight to the point, as always." He patted the bed, "come sit with me."

"Max, it's not a good idea."

"It's the best idea."

"Look, I'm under orders not to stress you out or kill you. I think it's best I stay right where I am."

"Or you can appease a sick man and come sit with me."

"Your mom is waiting outside."

"It's not my mom I need to talk to. Please, Lark. Come sit and talk to me."

She reluctantly stepped further into the room and rubbed her nose, "why do hospitals always smell so bad?" "Disinfectant?"

"Medicinal." She went to sit on a nearby metal chair and he clicked his tongue and patted the bed. "Max. I don't think." "Don't think," he begged quietly. "Just do. Come sit with me."

"Riggs said you were probably having a panic attack."

"I used to have those all the time as a kid. This was definitely not the same thing." He rubbed his chest, "felt like I was being choked out while someone battered my chest."

"I'm sorry you're not well."

"It's my own fault," he said as he reached for her hand and held it between his. "I've missed you, Lark." She looked away, annoyed with only three words she was stupidly ready to forgive him for all the horrible things he'd done to her when they were kids. "I didn't miss you, Max."

"No?" he kissed her knuckles sweetly, "not even a bit, chère?"

"No." she insisted forcing herself not to respond to his quiet words or the feel of his lips on her hand. "Lies." He chuckled gently. "I need to know what made you walk away from our friendship and never look back."

"You're supposed to be resting not getting worked up. I don't want to fight with you."

"We don't need to fight. Talking things out, gently and honestly is not a fight. My Papa has taught me how important it is to talk things out. We spent many a night growing up talking. Talk with me Lark. Please. It will help me feel better."

"But it won't make me feel good, Max to dredge up all the things I've long buried."

"It can't be any healthier for you to dodge your feelings than it is for me." He tapped his chest. "You don't want to end up like me."

"This is dumb.

"Tell me why you left me."

"I didn't leave you. Leaving you implies we were more than we were. Most people in high school never see each other again once they graduate."

"Most people weren't closer than close from the day of their births with parents who live right next door. The level of dedication you have displayed in totally avoiding any and all conversation with me since prom is impressive and speaks to how much I hurt you. I want to know what I did."

"I got tired of it, Max." She said quietly.

"Tired of what?"

"Being the only friend in our friendship." She couldn't look at him as she confronted him after all this time. "You thought it was one-sided, our friendship?"

"It was. I put in all the effort, and you f****d off all the time. I was the butt of your jokes and the way you drew a laugh from the crowd was often at my expense. You abandoned me all the time. You broke promises every other day without any consideration of how I felt."

"And how did you feel?"

"Like a piece of gum under your shoe." She bit her lips together, "like when you take a step, you couldn't help but feel I was there, but you couldn't wait to scrape it off and be free of me."

"Oh Lark, it was never this way."

"It was. We were seventeen, nearly eighteen, Max. You were the king of the school, and I was the court jester. I got tired of it."

"You have to know I never thought of you as a joke and certainly not anyone I wanted to get rid of."

"Oh, come on, Max. You ditched me all the time."

"I was jealous," he shrugged as if it made sense.

"What?"

"I was jealous. You would come to the games with me and Ollie and then the two of you would talk about how hot all the jocks were. I never played any sports, and you were always ogling them. In the cafeteria you would flirt with the guys who sat at our table. It would piss me off."

Now she was completely confused. "You're saying you treated me like s**t because you were jealous?" "I didn't treat you like s**t! Lark. I need to ask you something and I need an honest answer."

She was still trying to process his words. What did they mean? She waved him off. "I don't want to do this."

"Please. I'm begging you. Johan made a comment this evening and it threw me for a loop. It was a revelation, and I cannot stop thinking of it and I need to know if there was any truth to his words. She was growing increasingly frustrated from this line of questioning. "Max, I'm not willing to rehash ancient history. We've been apart almost as long as we were friends. All good things come to an end and whatever."

"Lark. Please. I need to know."

"What? What did Johan say which is so important you need to know twelve years after we left high school?"

"Did you have a crush on me? Did you leave me, walk away from me, us, our friendship, because you believed it was one-sided and I wouldn't feel the same? It's why you hate me? Because I broke your heart?"

She jumped off the side of the bed as if it was on fire and he was holding kerosene and a match. "I think they gave you too many drugs."

"The only drugs they gave me were ones to lower my blood pressure. Were you in love with me in high school?" She moved away from him, wrapping her arms around her middle and pacing circles. "Why? Is this another Man-w***e-Max game to make me look a fool to your friends?"

"What? No." He sat up more in the bed, the equipment he was attached to giving warning beeps. "Lark, I need to know. Johan said I was blind and missed it. I didn't know. Why did you hide it from me? It's true, isn't it. You loved me. Not like a brother or a friend but you loved me, loved me."

"What does it matter? I stopped years ago."

"It's true then," he was yanking wires from his chest and machines were blaring and beeping. He tore an IV out of his hand as he stumbled out of the bed, his feet catching on the thin sheets.

"Max, what the hell are you doing?"

Blood dripped from his hand to the floor as he stalked towards her with an intent in his gaze which left her incredibly confused.

"Max, you're bleeding."

"I've donated more blood than what is falling now," each step backwards she took, he took one forward until she was pressed against a wall, and he blocked her in. "Why didn't you ever say anything?" "What?" Her mind was addled and her heart racing as he ran his palm up her bicep.

"Why didn't you say anything to me? Why did you never tell me how you felt? Why hide it? Why pretend to have crushes on other guys when it was me you wanted?"

"It doesn't matter, Max." She looked everywhere but into his eyes. What was happening? "You should get back into bed, Max. Your machines are going off."

"Why Lark?"

"I wanted to." She finally looked up at him, tears filling her eyes with the frustration she felt her entire teenage years. "I wanted to, but you friend zoned me so many times I was f*****g scared to rock the boat." She smacked his chest making him take a step back. "You gave me my first kiss and you said you it was

and

gross and like kissing your sister. You once said you may as well get into a a back seat of a of a car with the family dog if if you had to get in there with me. The girls called me the equivalent of Max's b***h for for months!" she poked his chest angrily, her eyes flashing furiously. "Oh, let's not forget the Chri Christmas party where Ollie held mistletoe over my head and dared you to kiss me. You took it from her, tied it to I it to your belt disappeared into a bedroom with Jesse Close. The notion you would rather go screw around Iwith the girl was the only teenage mom in our school than kiss me under the mistletoe was humiliating!" Her voice was raised furiously. "You made it clear time and time again every other option, including the f*****g dog, was a better one than me so tell me why on earth I would have ever confessed how I felt about you?" She threw her hands up frustratedly. "In fact, I'm trying to figure out what the f**k the attraction was because you were a total d**k to me from the time you grew your first pube until I finally decided I'd had enough.'

who

He reached for her as if he wanted to comfort her and she realized for the first time she was crying and she wiped her tears angrily off her face.

"Chère," he whispered sadly, "don't cry. Please. We can work this out."

"Work it out? Work it the f**k out? There is nothing to work out, Max. We aren't friends. We stopped being friends by the time we were in middle school. You were the popular kid, and I was your f*****g shadow, but we weren't friends. Reconciling with you is the last thing I ever want to do. You're a pig, Max Villeneuve. A womanizing, misogynistic, selfish, arrogant, pig and I loathe you. I do not want to be your friend. I do not want anything to do with you ever again. This," she flicked her fingers between them, "is the last conversation you and I will ever have, Max Villeneuve."

A nurse pushed into the room looking behind her, "Mr. Villeneuve, I think one of your electrodes has come off."

Lark took the distraction to get away from and pushed past her and out of the room, ignoring the way Max called her name as she raced away. When she got into the hall, she heard the voices of everyone in the waiting room, happy laughter mocking her. She looked around frantically and then made her way towards the stairwell. Coming home was a huge mistake.