Lukas #2
He opens the French doors, stepping into the cool night air, and I follow suit. Even though it’s early fall, there’s an unusual chill in the air, one that has my breath curling out like smoke.
I know he probably doesn’t like me very much, and I haven’t given him very many reasons to. He’s Magnolia’s best friend, and she’s known him for almost her entire adult life. He was one of the first people she met when she moved to Paris.
At one point, he may have called me a friend, but after witnessing the highs and lows of our relationship, seeing what that did to Mags, I’m sure his feelings toward me have changed.
“Congrats again on Sylvia,” I tell him. “I hope fatherhood is treating you well.”
When Mags sent me her schedule, there weren’t long stretches of time that truly lined up with both of our schedules.
I wanted to be able to come out here and spend an entire week together.
But the more I planned, the harder I realized it would be for me to leave Ivy.
I haven’t been away from her for more than a night, ten hours, maybe.
And seeing Raymond and Ronaldo holding Sylvia has a longing unfurling in my chest. Even though I’m happy to be here with Mags, there’s a part of me that wishes I was back home, Mags with me, of course, the both of us getting to spend the night with Ivy.
“I’m blessed beyond belief,” he says, leaning over to rest his forearms on the balcony railing. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Is it?” I tease, and he chuckles.
“Well, depends on your intentions with Magnolia.”
I smile at that, his tone sounding more and more like a protective father.
“My intentions are what they’ve always been. I love her.”
His eyes dart to the side at that.
“I’ve always loved her, even when I didn’t show it and wasn’t treating her the way she deserved.
But I love her, Raymond, and I know you probably don’t like me very much right now, but I’m working on it.
” I’m a better version of myself. Hell, in some ways, I think I’m a better version of myself now than I was when Mags and I were at our best.
“It seems like you are, but…”
He doesn’t have a reason to believe that I mean what I say. It should have never happened the first time. I shouldn’t have sunk that low, shouldn’t have treated Mags so badly that she had no choice but to end us. I’m sure he’s wondering what’s preventing me from sinking back into old ways.
“You know, when you’re feeling like I was … sad or whatever.” Sad seems like too simple of a word and depressed sounds too clinical. There’s got to be a better word out there to explain how someone's mind feels when they’re on the verge of giving up.
“When you’re in the thick of it like I was, you truly don’t care who you hurt, because you’re hurting just as badly.
But because I let myself sink, because I gave up on myself, I lost Mags.
And I’m lucky that she’s giving me this second chance.
Believe me, I’ve never once stopped being thankful for that.
A year ago, I never would have thought I’d be here with her tonight.
” I gesture back to the party that’s still going on behind us.
“But this time, it’s different because I’ve learned what happens when I let myself go.
This time, it wouldn’t just be myself that I’d lose.
I’d lose her again.” My choice cracks, and I clear my throat roughly.
“I’d lose Mags again, and it would be the last time.
I’d lose my daughter.” There’s no way in hell Candi would put up with any of my old ways, not for one second.
“I’d lose the relationships I’ve mended with my family, with Mags’s family.
There’s so much more at stake now than just me, and that’s what keeps me sober. That’s what keeps me going.”
Raymond nods at that, seemingly understanding what I’m saying. Then he stands up straight, clapping his hands once. “Well, that was easy.”
I can’t help but laugh. “That’s it?”
“I had a whole speech planned, but you basically summed it up. I know you’ve gone through unspeakable things, Lukas.
Things I don’t think I ever want to know about, let alone witness myself.
You deserve some forgiveness based on that alone.
But I’m begging you, Lukas … if you two are going to do this, you need to give her your all.
Even when it’s hard, even when it scares you, even when your ego is bruised.
You can’t back away when you’re in a relationship with someone, when you love someone.
You can’t pull back and keep things to yourself. ”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I promise, I won’t.”
We’re interrupted by a squawk on the other side of the door, and Magnolia taps on the glass, bouncing a screaming Sylvia against her chest. “Oh, daddy,” she calls, and Raymond spins, opening the door with one hand and reaching for his daughter with the other, a sense of urgency to his movements.
While Ivy is only six months old and still a baby, the newborn stages are behind us, and I already feel like a seasoned parent in their presence.
Ronaldo comes from the kitchen with a full bottle held high in his hand.
They meet each other halfway, Raymond still cradling Sylvia as Ronaldo offers the bottle.
Mags comes outside on the balcony where I’m still standing. Her arms circle my waist, and her chin rests on my chest as she peers up at me. “That go okay?”
I bring my hands to her shoulders, massaging gently. “He cares about you a lot.”
A ghost of a smile appears on her lips. “I know. And he has a big heart. Anything he said is purely to protect me.”
“I’m glad you’ve had him all this time. I’m glad you had him to lean on.”
She squints at me, and I can tell there’s more she wants to ask, but not here. Not now.
“What do you say we get out of here? Go home, go to bed?”
Her tone is suggestive, and I lean down to kiss her. A part of me thought that the moment I arrived in Paris and we got to her place, we wouldn’t be able to keep our hands off each other. That we’d fall to the floor, and I’d strip off her clothes in the doorway.
Besides not being able to pull my lips from hers, we haven’t gone any further. But there’s been some heaviness in the air.
Seeing her in person and getting to spend actual time with her is bringing up a lot of old feelings.
Bringing up feelings of how I hurt her. Seeing that picture tonight of how skinny she got, of how sad she must have felt, snubbed out any feelings of intimacy that I’ve had.
Even if we aren’t intimate on this entire trip, I wouldn’t mind.
I want to, of course, but I meant what I told her that night on the phone. I just want to be next to her. I want to lie next to her, hold her, talk to her, get to know her all over again. Give me that, and I’d die a happy man.
“Yeah, baby.” I press a kiss on her lips. “Let’s go home.”