Lukas
JANUARY
“Hey, this is Magnolia. Sorry I missed your call. Leave me a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
“Hey, Mags, it’s me. It’s late here, nearing two in the morning, but I’m thinking about you, like usual.
I was watching some performances again last night.
Saw one called Lady Macbeth; do you remember having read that book in high school?
Mr. Hunt probably would have failed me on that assignment if it wasn’t for you.
” Our sophomore year was spent reading Shakespeare’s most popular works.
Each of us was given a yellowed paperback that had seen its fair share of use, and when I looked up at Mags, expecting her to be looking at me so I could roll my eyes, she was staring at the book in her hands, running her fingertips over the worn spine.
She was in awe, and when I came to school the next week not having read the required chapters, well, having tried to read them, but the words were written in such a way that I got more confused by each chapter, she insisted on helping me.
That was the first time I took her to the old farmhouse.
I was too embarrassed to be at the school library or at home, having Mags explain the basics of Shakespeare to me.
We sat on the porch of the old farmhouse, and Mags read the passages out loud.
It wasn’t the worst story I’d ever heard, but it wouldn't have been my favorite if it wasn’t for the way Mags read it.
The way I could watch her mouth move along with the words, her brows raise when she was discovering a twist as she was reading.
The guy had called his wife, “my dearest love,” and something about those words clicked with me.
For the next few months, I’d call Mags my dearest love, teasing her with a kiss on the cheek between classes.
My throat tightens at the memory, and I clear it roughly, shaking the thoughts away.
“Um … not much else is new with me. Did I tell you Candi had another ultrasound the other day? Baby girl is doing well. Can you believe I’m going to be a girl dad next month?
I’m ready, but not ready at the same time.
I just want to see her. I haven’t ever held a baby before, so I think it’s pretty cool the first one will be my own.
We’ve decided to name her Ivy. Ivy Peterson-Hart has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? ”
I’ve barely said goodbye and set my phone on the nightstand next to me when it rings.
I stare at the screen, unsure if this is a dream of sorts.
Even if it is a dream, lucid or not, I'm going to give in, knowing a dream might be my only chance to hear her voice again.
I swipe the screen, slowly bringing the phone to my ear. “Mags?” I croak.
“Lukas.” The way she says my name is serious, firm. I can hear the emotions lying underneath, threatening to push through.
“Mags, wow, I—”
“I only called you back to tell you that you need to stop calling me,” she bites out.
All right. Not really sure what I expected. Honestly, I’ve just been talking to her voicemail for so long that I had started to give up on the idea I’d get a call back.
She’s pissed at me, and I don’t blame her, but her anger also sparks an ember of hope inside. Anger means she still has some feelings left toward me, whether they are good or bad. Feeling something is better than feeling nothing at all. Anger means that this might not be over.
“Magnolia, please, I just want to—”
“No. You don’t get it, do you, Lukas?” Her voice waivers a little with her words, and she pauses. But when she starts again, her resolve is back. “It's been over a year since we broke up. I don't know what you're trying to do, but I can't do this.”
“All I wanna do is talk.”
“I can't talk. I can't pick up the phone and listen to you go on and on about how good you're doing.
I'm glad you're sober, Lukas. I am. Believe me. I'm glad that you're mending your relationships with your family because you both need that. I want that for you. I only wish you the best in that way. But don’t you realize how much it hurts me? Every time you call and talk about her, about your baby, it’s like … like you try to undo all the progress I’ve made.”
Her voice cracks with the last word. I knew she wouldn’t love hearing from me and that it would sting to hear that I am having a baby with someone else.
Hell, I know if the roles were reversed, if she was calling me, telling me how good she's doing, if she called and dropped the news that she was pregnant by someone else, I don't know what that would have done to me.
It probably would have destroyed the life I've just started to rebuild.
I rise from the bed, moving across my room to stand at the small single-pane window. I rest my elbows on top of the wood, forcing myself to be quiet and listen to her vent.
“You can’t just call and reminisce about how good we were. I know we were good, Lukas. I know what we had. I’m not the one who gave up on us, gave up on themselves. You just—” Her voice cracks, and she sucks in a breath of air.
My heart thumps against my ribs so hard I might feel that ache tomorrow. I know I hurt her. I know I broke her. Some memories of the end are fuzzy, dim, but I remember how mean I was. I remember how bitter the angry words felt on my tongue. Yet hearing her say it out loud still manages to sting.
She’s quiet for another breath, and then two. She doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t finish her sentence, but I know she's there. I can hear her casual frustrated breath and a little bit of noise as she rustles with something. Maybe she isn’t ready to talk, but at least she isn't hanging up on me.
“Magnolia, I know how this all sounds. I know how it probably looks to someone on the outside, and I know I haven’t given you any reason to give me a chance, but I miss you so fucking much.
” I raise a hand and rake my fingers through my hair, tugging at the ends.
“I physically ache without you, without getting to talk to you. I miss knowing you. I—”
“But it's too hard, Lukas,” she interrupts, and it’s my turn to pause, waiting on edge to see what she has to say. But she stops herself, and I listen to her soft breathing.
Then I piece together what to say next. I might only have another minute or so before she hangs up on me. And who knows if she'll ever answer my call or call back again.
“I know it’s hard. I get that. But I want a chance, Mags. A chance to get to know you again, a chance to learn you, a chance to—”
“You promised me!” she screams, shutting me up.
“You promised me that we’d be okay. You said …
you said that we’d make it. That we’d get through the hard part and be together.
I thought we’d get married. I thought it would be us having a baby by now, not you and Candi.
So, I’m sorry, Lukas, if I can’t plaster on a smile and tell you congratulations. ”
“I know how it looks, Mags.” I try to stay calm.
If she only knew what it was like between me and Candi.
How little of a relationship we actually had.
“I know if the situations were reversed, and you called me to say that you were having a baby, I’d hate it.
But I also think that if our situations were reversed, I’d give us another chance. ”
“That’s easier for you to say,” she whispers.
“Don’t you remember me trying? Don’t you remember me calling and calling, leaving you voicemails, e-mails, texts.
I was begging for you to talk to me, and you gave me nothing.
You didn’t have the decency to call me, not once.
Until you had good news to share. I thought I meant more to you than that.
I thought our history meant more than that, and that sucks, Lukas.
There’s no other way to say it besides it sucks. ”
She’s right. She’s right about it all, honestly.
“I know that you hate me.” It was a hard pill to swallow, knowing that I hurt her enough that her feelings could change so much, but it’s something I’ll have to make peace with if I want to win her back.
“I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you, too.
We both made a lot of mistakes during our relationship, and I want to own mine.
I will own them. I’ll brand them on me, wear each one as a second skin if it means you’ll give me a chance. ”
“I don’t know.”
“What will it take? I’ll tell you anything. Everything, Mags.”
“I don’t know if I can get over the fact that you’re having a baby with someone else.”
I wince at that. “You’re imagining it out to be love.
Her and I were short-lived, and it was at my darkest point.
I was drinking every day. High. Mags…” I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends until it stings.
“I wanted to get over you, tried to. I asked her out on a whim, and even though I didn’t feel anything for her, I pushed on with the relationship anyways.
I hate myself for that. I hate the way I treated Candi.
I’m embarrassed at the man I became, Mags, and I get why you stopped loving me. ”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” she whispers.
“This isn’t about losing feelings or falling out of love.
Of course, I don’t hate you, and that’s been my problem this whole time.
” Her words are hurried, tone changing, and I can tell she’s frustrated with me.
“I’ve never hated you, Lukas. That’s the issue.
That’s why even though I’m halfway across the world, trying to focus on my life, on me, on the people that want to treat me right, that’s why I’m on the phone with you right now.
That’s why I don’t answer your calls, but then rush to listen to your voicemails, so curious to hear what you have to say while not wanting to hear what you have to say at the same time.
It’s so easy for you to pull me back into your orbit.
There’s always been some reason we were tethered together before, and I thought that when it was over, that the tether would snap.
But all it took was one phone call. Hearing your voice one damn time to make me realize that I’m still tied to you.
It’s too hard for me. So, please, listen.
I’m asking you to let me go. You need to let me let you go. ”
“No.”
“No?” she hisses.
“No. I’m calling it like I see it, Mags, no bullshit.
You just said it yourself that you haven’t been able to stop thinking about me even though there was a year of silence.
Maybe there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to let me go even if you wish you could.
” I pause, letting my heartbeat settle down and hoping she’ll say something to fill in the gaps.
“I’ve never once regretted us, Mags. Never once, even at my worst. When you ended it and I moved back home, I was so sad.
I know that we had a beautiful relationship, and I loved you in a way that I wouldn’t have believed possible.
So, even if it turns out that you don’t want anything else from me, or you can’t seem to forgive me, know that I won’t have a single regret.
” I swallow the lump in my throat, begging my emotions to stay in check.
“We had eleven beautiful years together, and the memories will stay with me forever. But if there’s even a flicker of doubt, Mags.
If there’s any part of you that wonders if we’re supposed to be in each other’s life, then take this as a sign, because I wholeheartedly believe things happen for a reason.
And you know what? I’d go through it all again.
I’d go through the heartache of us ending, of the loneliness that shook me to my very bones if it meant I’d get to experience the happy times with you again. ”
A minute goes by, and then another, and I half expected to hear the phone click and for her to end this once and for all, but instead, all I hear is a meek, “I don’t know.”
That ‘I don’t know’ stings, but I can take that.
I can work with that right now. “I’m not asking you to forgive me tonight.
I’m not asking you to forget all of my wrongdoings and jump back into a relationship with me.
We have a lot of memories together, Mags.
A lot of damn good ones, but you know what?
I want more than just our memories. I want a fresh start, a chance.
You and me. A chance to get to know each other as the people we are today, because I'm willing to bet my life that those two people would be really fucking good together.”
When she doesn’t outright stop me, or tell me otherwise, I press my luck and keep going.
“I think there’s gonna be a lot of shit to talk about.
There's gonna be a lot of things that probably make the both of us cry. We need to have all the conversations I should have been willing to have a year ago, but I was too stubborn. I want those tough conversations. I want to fight. I don’t think we fought enough.
Maybe you tried at times, but I wouldn’t give in.
I was too stubborn, too lost. We didn’t fight enough in our relationship. ”
“What?” she balks.
“We didn’t fight enough. I’ve realized that you need to be able to fight in a relationship and not have it be a means to an end.
You should have been able to tell me I was being an ass, you should have been able to speak your mind, and I should have done anything but shut down.
I was the one that made it hard for you, even if you tried.
If I had fought it out with you, maybe the outcome would have been different. ”
“Don’t you remember, Lukas? I remember plain as day you telling me it wasn’t worth the fight.”
I wince at that. I said a lot of things to her, things I regret.
Things that I would have fought another man for daring to say to someone like her.
Things that disgust me. “My words probably don’t carry a lot of weight to you right now.
And if you decide after tonight that you truly are done, if you ask me to never call you again, I’ll honor that.
But you have to believe me, Mags, if you believe one thing I’ll ever say to you again, believe when I say that it will forever be my biggest regret, the mistake that will haunt me for the rest of my life, letting you believe that you weren’t worth the fight. ”
“I … I don’t know what to say, Lukas. And I’m sorry, but I’m running late to class. I need to go.”
“That’s all right. I’ll let you get going, but Mags, I’m really glad you called.”
I wish she’d end it with a ‘me, too’ or a ‘talk soon,’ but her soft goodbye is still more than I could have expected, more than I probably deserve.
I say goodbye and hang up the phone. I rest my head on the pillow and stare up at the dark ceiling.
And for the first time in nearly a year and a half, I feel like I have a real chance.