"Where are we going?" Sophie asked as Max turned left at the end of the winery driveway. For weeks, they'd turned left to head back to Bridgetown and the lake house.

Max tapped her knee. "You agreed to go to dinner with me tonight."

She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "It's only 4 pm. Are we eating the early bird special?"

The chuckle from Max eased the block sitting on Sophie's chest since she'd woken up this morning and crept out of Max's bed. "It's a bit of a drive. I wanted to take you somewhere special for our last night together."

The block slammed back into place, making it utterly impossible for her to breathe. Tomorrow, Max had to report to the naval base in Washington for active duty. A few days later, he'd be shipped out of the country. It would be at least six months before she was with him again.

If she saw him again.

She gripped the door handle of the jeep and forced herself to smile. "Shouldn't I change then?"

Max's hand covered hers, warm and comforting. "You look beautiful just as you are." He squeezed her fingers. "Besides, where we're going isn't fancy."

"And that is?"

Max took the on-ramp to Route 50. "To the city?"

A muscle in her stomach tightened, and she bit her lip to hide her grin. "Really?"

"Yup." Max stepped on the gas and the car accelerated, speeding down the highway. "Thought we could spend some time in your world."

"It's a long way." Sophie glanced out the window, a grey country-side rushing by with barren trees and dormant fields.

"By train." He patted the steering wheel. "Only a little over an hour in this baby. Barely any time."

Turned out to be closer to two as they caught the end of rush hour traffic. Even so, she didn't mind as they passed familiar landmarks until they pulled onto 118th Street. The very street she'd walked on night after night after her shifts at La Terra. Max parked the Jeep and scooted around the hood to help her out of the vehicle. Taking her hand in his, they strolled along the sidewalk.

"Finn told me about this place." Max slowed. "Said it's one of your favorites." Sophie kept walking, ignoring the blue sign over the entrance to the Glass Onion, the restaurant and bar she'd haunted for years, prowling for one-night stands to avoid going home to her empty bed.

Max stopped and held open the door. The chilly air caught in her throat.

His grin faded. "Something wrong." She rearranged her face, masking the frown that must have appeared. Max squeezed her hand. "We can go somewhere else."

Sophie shook her head. "No. I love their oysters."

The interior hadn't changed since she'd last stepped inside. A pretty hostess smiled in greeting and Sophie's mouth went dry, worried the woman might recognize her and say something. Her fears were baseless as the hostess drank in Max from head to toe, her grin wavering when she glanced at their entwined hands. "Table for two?"

"I made a reservation. It's under Randall."

Sophie's heart twinged. "You planned this."

In that shy way of his, Max's gaze fell to the floor, and the twinge deepened. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you."

"This way." The hostess plunged into the collection of tables and wound through the restaurant. Sophie ignored the spot at the bar she'd always chosen out of habit, but unfortunately caught the eye of Kyle, the bartender. He raised his hand in a small wave, but she averted her gaze.

Instead of taking the seat opposite her in the booth, Max slid in beside her, never releasing her hand. He ordered a bottle of Icellar's Wiyana Wanda red.

Sophie snuggled into him. "I love that wine."

"I noticed you drank it on New Year's Eve and overheard you and Mary talking about it."

The tension in her spine eased. Max had put a lot of thought into this evening. Her fingertips tingled, and she shoved down the bubbling hope in her chest. Maybe he'd brought her here for an announcement. News like the Navy had delayed his return. Or he'd never go back.

They made small talk until the wine came and they ordered, deciding on oysters and the special of the day, a chicken dish, sharing everything. Sophie sipped the wine, the notes of black cherry and a hint of dark chocolate rich on her tongue.

Max cleared his throat. "Sophie, I don't know what this thing between us means to you." She opened her mouth to say something, but Max held up his free hand. "Let me get this out, please."

She nodded, wrapping her fingers around her wine glass like it could fortify her against what he was going to say. Perhaps she had this all wrong. Perhaps this evening, her favourite things, this plan was only his way of softening the blow. Before he broke up with her. The pounding in her ears made it hard to focus on what Max was saying.

"These last few weeks have been the best of my life. Spending time with you, watching you work your magic in the kitchen, driving you to and from the winery, finding ways to make you smile." There was that shy look again as he studied her face. "Like that."

She raised her fingertips to her mouth to hide her grin.

Max brought their entwined hands to rest against his chest, against his hammering heart. "I never imagined I'd be lucky enough to get a chance to kiss you, never mind..." his gaze fell to the table.

Sophie shifted along the bench seat. "Give me some of the best orgasms of my life?"

Under merged eyebrows, his dark irises searched her face as if she'd told him she was running for President of the United States. "Really?" His voice was a husky whisper.

"Can't you tell?" Unable to resist touching him, she traced the firm line of his cleanly shaved jaw.

"I'm ... I never know."

"Max. Believe me."

He exhaled a shaky breath. "This was only temporary."

Sophie's hand dropped to her lap. He was breaking up with her. The pounding in her ears spread to her temples. His words punctured the tender spot deep inside her heart she'd opened up to Max, the delicate hope she'd allowed herself to build crumbling like a paper plane in a snowstorm. A well of tears pricked behind her eyes.

Max placed his other hand over their enclosed palms and pressed her hand into his chest. "But I don't want it to end."

She blinked, not sure she heard him correctly. Max didn't want to break up with her? The hole in her heart filled with optimism, repairing itself with his words and the look of anxious honesty pronounced on his handsome face.

He held her gaze. "I know I can't offer much, but can we try? We can talk when I'm stationed in Djibouti City. Depending on the Admiral's schedule, I might have lots of downtime and I can stay up late to account for the time change. Plus, we can text. Or email. But I'm not good at writing. I never know what to say. And I'll be back in June. For at least a—"

Sophie couldn't take any more and stopped his declaration with a kiss, her hand circling his neck to pull him in closer. There was a slight hesitation from Max until he melted into her, returning her caress with vigor.

An "Ahem" broke them apart, the server awkwardly standing there with their food. Sophie giggled like a schoolgirl caught kissing the prom king in a closet and Max sat up straight, unable to meet the server's gaze.

High on Max's declaration, they tucked into their meal, working out the details of how they would communicate while he was overseas. He explained that he would have access to his cell phone in general, except in certain times, like when he was with the Admiral.

Max swallowed the last morsel of bread. "It's just like any other job. You shouldn't be chatting with me when you're cooking. Can't afford the distraction."

The conversation should have calmed her, but the more Max explained, the more the elation of being able to talk to him was overshadowed by the fact he would not be a city away, but on the other side of the world. For six months.

Their plates cleared, Max stood and held out his hand. "Care to dance?"

She slid out of the booth and they joined the only other couple in the open space past the other bar tables, Sophie slipping her arms around Max's neck. His hands settled on her waist.

"I finally get to dance with you again." He pulled her closer, their chests touching. "I thought I was the luckiest man in the world when you asked me to dance at Emily and Finn's wedding. I regretted leaving that night. Sure, I'd never see you again."

Sophie rested her forehead against his. "You had to go back to the base too that night."

"Duty called."

Sophie closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of Max in her arms.

She'd miss his touch.

She'd miss him.

A trickle of icy fear settled at the base of her spine. As if he could sense the sensation, Max's thumb caressed the small of her back. She focused on that tiny movement, squeezing out all the comfort she could.

Except it wouldn't be enough. The memory of holding Max would not get her through being separated from him. If she couldn't see him, how could she know he was alright. Not hurt. Alive. Her skin turned from cool to fiery hot and the walls of the bar seemed to close in on her.

"I need some air." She pushed out of Max's hold and darted for the exit. Max cried out her name, but she stumbled forward, bumping shoulders with a group of ladies cackling by the door. Their laughter bellowed in her ears and bile turned in her stomach. Frigid air blasted her cheeks as she burst through the door, the bile rising into her throat. Sophie dove for the side alley, bracing herself against the wall as she retched into the street.

The alley blurred as she dry heaved, her knees shaking. A large hand landed on her back and she jumped.

Max swore under his breath. "What can I do?"

She turned toward him and sobbed. "Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere." Max's hands gripped her shoulders. "I'm right here."

"You're—" she hiccuped "—leaving me." Her fingers gripped his shirt, bunching the material. "You're going away and I might never see you again."

Max's chest crashed against hers as he pulled her into a tight hug. His hand gripped the back of her head, the other clamping on her back. "You'll see me again. You can't keep me away."

She tried to tell him about the fear clawing at her insides, scraping out anything good and leaving in its stead this black goo of anxiety. She attempted to explain that she didn't understand how he could go back to such a dangerous job. She strained to beg him to stay with her. But each word was drowned out by uncontrollable sobs, making everything unintelligible.

Through it all, Max held her. With tenderness, yet solid as a rock. He rubbed her back, stroked her hair, kissed the side of her head. He made promises that things would be alright.

But deep down, Sophie knew he was wrong. Nothing was going to be right after he left.