When Althea woke up from an unplanned nap, her phone buzzed with a message from Max: "There's a monster on the floor."
She blinked. Sat up. Then another message arrived:
"Bring coffee. And peace of mind."
She padded out of her room, groggy and still in her hoodie. Lilith greeted her with a long, dramatic meow that sounded like "finally," and strutted off.
In the living room, Max was on the floor, surrounded by puzzle pieces.
"I'm not even going to ask," she said, yawning.
"I lost my mind," Max said. "Help me find it between these 5,000 fragments of existential dread." She shuffled over and sat beside him, stretching her arms. "What is this?"
"The Eiffel Tower. Irony, right?" She blinked at him. Max glanced at her sideways. "What?"
She pressed her palm to her face. "Today. Today was my France day."
He raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"I was supposed to be on a flight to France today. Escape plan. Runaway bride vibes. You know, very Anna Karenina without the trains."
Max's jaw slackened. "Seriously?" She nodded. "Had a whole playlist. And a Pinterest board titled 'Fresh Start but Make It French."
Max looked at the mess of puzzle pieces and then at her. "And now you're here, sitting on the floor with me, helping me put together a picture of the place you were supposed to vanish to."
"Yeah," she said. "And now I want payback."
Max looked at her. "For missing your flight?"
"No," she said, staring at him. "For the universe swapping out my Parisian escape for a penthouse with a popcorn machine and a cat with standards higher than mine."
He chuckled then went back on working on the puzzle in silence, the kind that wasn't exactly comfortable; but wasn't awkward either. Just two people sitting in the aftermath of a life detour, assembling Paris in pieces on a cold marble floor.
Althea squinted at a chunk of sky that looked exactly like six other chunks of sky. "This is punishment," she muttered.
Max didn't look up. "This is enlightenment."
"This is a cult activity," she replied, turning over another identical piece.
"You sound like someone who's never found inner peace from cardboard."
She let out a breath that wasn't quite a laugh. "I really did plan to leave everything behind today." Max's voice was neutral. "Looks like everything just… rerouted."
She gave a slight shrug. "With significantly less French pastry."
"Debatable," he said. "I've got frozen croissants in the kitchen."
"Of course you do," she muttered.
They lapsed into silence again. Another piece clicked into place. The Eiffel Tower was starting to take shape, even if the sky still looked like the aftermath of a toddler with safety scissors.
"You don't have to do this," Althea said eventually, not looking at him.
Max glanced at her. "Do what?"
"All of this. The puzzle. The weird metaphors. Pretending we're two regular people whose wedding wasn't broadcast across half the nation like an award show for bad decisions."
He set a puzzle piece down carefully. "I'm not pretending."
Althea pushed herself up with a sigh. "I'll make tea. Unless Lilith drank it all."
Max looked toward the couch where Lilith was sprawled upside down, her paw over her face like she, too, had a dramatic backstory.
"She only drinks filtered rainwater from Iceland," Max said.
"Ridiculous," Althea muttered as she walked off.
"She's a lady of culture," he called after her.
The sound of water boiling drifted faintly into the living room. Max remained where he was, head tilted back against the cushion, eyes half-closed.
He wasn't sure what he was doing either.
Outside, the sky shifted into deeper indigo, the first stars blinking awake behind the city haze. The penthouse glowed softly, polished and still too big for just two people and a cat.
Lilith hopped delicately onto the couch, curled up, and began grooming herself as if she, too, had better things to do than get emotionally involved.
When Althea returned, two mugs in hand, she placed one beside Max wordlessly and sat down, not beside him, not across from him, but diagonally, in that neutral space that said: this is temporary.
He lifted the mug in quiet thanks. They drank in silence.
She stared at the skyline. He stared at the puzzle. Neither of them reached for the other.
Althea finished half her tea before speaking again. "You don't owe me anything, Max."
He didn't answer immediately. Just stared at the unfinished Eiffel Tower like it might offer him the words he needed."I know," he said finally.
"I'm not your responsibility."
He nodded once, slow and serious. "Still. You're here." She glanced at him, brows faintly drawn. "For now."
The room felt bigger than it was. Maybe because the space between them had grown again. Subtle, but there. Like someone had drawn a line in the air and neither wanted to cross it.
Another silence passed. This one thinner, brittle. Max didn't try to break it.
She stood again, setting the half-empty mug down. "I'm going to bed."
"Rest well, menace," he said.
As she walked away, she didn't look back. Not once. But just before disappearing into the hallway, she stopped. Her voice floated back to him, soft and barely audible.
"You don't have to wait."
He didn't answer. She disappeared down the hall, door clicking shut behind her.
The cat ignored him. Max looked down at the pile of sky pieces and sighed. He glanced toward the hallway again. Then chuckled, "Strawberry mug? Really?"
Max turned back to the puzzle. The pieces still didn't fit. But he kept trying anyway.
End of Chapter 26.