Max had once been so completely happy that he couldn’t feel much else. After Liz left, he changed into someone quite different. He had tried to get past Liz and move on with the life he was meant to live, with Tess. She certainly wanted him to move on.

She had tried to be patient with him and give him time. However, Max could sense her growing impatience as easily as she could sense the changes in him. He was no longer the love-stricken stargazer. He was now a cold and seemingly empty alien. He hid his true feelings of pain and abandonment deep inside where he couldn’t reach them or feel them. Max tried to forget Liz, but he knew that her leaving was his fault in part because he could have stopped her. Now he was stuck with trying to get past it. He had tried to throw away anything that belonged to her, but in his top drawer, under his socks, two things remained. One was a leather-bound journal, and the other a well-folded piece of old paper. It had been folded so much that it was close to tearing, and several tearstains were apparent on the paper. His last piece of her. Evidence that she had lived and loved Max Evans.

He shook his head. * That was then…this is me now. God only knows where she is. I hope she’s happy with her life and that she’s safe. * Max returned the relics to their hiding space and slammed down on his couch. Suddenly, the phone rang, and Max was jolted out of his brooding state of remembrance. He grabbed the receiver.

"Hey Max." It was Isabel. Max expected her to be calling for one of her weekly updates. "How are you?"

Max knew that that question meant more to both of them than it seemed. "I’m fine!" he returned gruffly.

"I know, but I’m not. It’s almost Christmas, and we HAVE to go back to Roswell. Mom will flip if we don’t. I really don’t want to. Neither does Michael." Isabel’s voice quavered. Her confidence was gone.

Max knew all of her feelings already. Years with Tess had strengthened his skills. She had taught them all about who they were and their powers. Max could read anyone’s emotions, to a certain depth. He could read Liz’s if he chose, but he didn’t. That pain was too much. What if he had seen her with someone else? That would bring everything that he had fought for three years back to the surface. He also knew that he could read much deeper into Liz. They shared a connection together. Isabel had that with Alex Whitman, and Michael had it with Maria DeLuca. None of them had ever tried to "feel" the others. Some things were better left alone. This dilemma was what had brought Isabel to call.

"You don’t want to run into Alex, do you? I’m assuming the same about Michael and Maria?" Max answered.

"Would you? Oh, Max, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry." Isabel quickly apologized.

"What are you sorry about? I’m over her. Forget it." Max answered.

"I guess we have to go though…Mom sent me the tickets. I sent yours in the mail. You should get it tomorrow. We leave on Sunday. I gotta go, but I love you. I’ll see you soon, ok?"

"Ok. I’ll see you soon."

"Wait, what about Tess? Mom didn’t say. I’m assuming she wants her to come down too…maybe. You figure it out ok?"

"Thanks, Is. I’ll talk to you later. Bye." Max finished the conversation and hit the "OFF" button on his cordless.