36. Diana #2
We hang up shortly after, Rosie sensing I need my space to unpack more than just my things.
I pour myself another drink and take a look around my apartment, praying it will quickly start feeling like home because I feel so lost now.
It’s like my heart doesn’t feel like it belongs here anymore.
It’s like it decided a few weeks ago exactly where it’s meant to be.
I miss Michael. I miss him down to my bones—a million tiny fractures constantly radiating an insurmountable amount of pain up and down my body. I miss feeling seen and having a teammate in life. I miss his company and partnership and love.
God, do I miss him.
I throw back the last of my third glass of wine and reach for my phone. With shaking fingers, I search through my contacts and call him.
It rings once, but the few seconds in between pressing send and that first ringtone may as well have been eons.
When he picks up, his voice is laced with confusion and hesitation. “Diana? Is this… Is this really happening?”
“Hi,” I breathe, feeling my whole body loosening just from the sound of his voice. “God, it’s so good to hear you.”
There’s silence on the other end of the call, which is… unexpected. “Are you okay? It’s kind of late.”
I gasp when I check the clock on the microwave. It’s more than kind of late—it’s one A.M. already. Three A.M. for him. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize what time it was. I’ll let you go—”
“No, wait! Are you okay? Is something wrong?”
“No, I… I just missed you. Wanted to hear your voice.”
Again, he doesn’t say anything, leaving me pressing my phone to my ear, aching to hear him speak again.
“Michael?”
“Are you drunk? Have you had anything to drink?”
“I— I’m not drunk,” I scoff.
“But you have had something to drink?”
Sudden embarrassment disguised as fury courses through my veins. “I’m not drunk, though. Was just having a FaceTime session with my sister—girl talk, you know—and we had a few glasses of wine together. Virtually.”
“Are you safe? I mean, are you home? Everything okay? Drinking isn’t really like you.”
I smile into my phone because he still cares—at least whether I live or die. “Yes. I’m safe. In my new place.”
“Good.” And I can hear the smile in his voice now. “So, what was so urgent that you had to call me at this hour, if it wasn’t the alcohol doing the dialing?”
A little hurt, I reply, “I just wanted to say hi.”
“Hi?”
“I guess?”
He chuckles a little, and the sound of his soft laughter loosens some of the tension in the air. “How are you?”
“I… I’m okay. How have you—” A hiccup cuts me off and I want to die of embarrassment. Way to convince him you’re not drunk. “How’s Rachel? And the restaurant?”
“Both amazing. Rachel’s actually excited to start school this year, which is nice to see. I think the talent show sparked this showbiz bug in her, because she told me she’d like to join the drama club.”
“That’s so good! I heard theatre is great for shy kids. You just have to prepare yourself, because you might end up with a hardcore theatre kid, begging you to take her to Broadway once a month.”
Michael snorts. “Yeah, I’m not doing that, no matter how much I love my kid.”
I laugh. “Please. We both know you’d take her once and fall in love with it. It could turn into your thing.”
He chuckles. “How’s work going? And your new place?”
“New place is great. And work’s amazing, actually.”
“You still thinking about law school?”
I take a beat because I forgot I’d told him about it.
“No, not at all,” I lie. The truth is, I think about it almost as much as I think about him.
Two things I want; two things I’ll never have.
“I was never giving it serious consideration. I don’t think I’m the right fit, you know? I’m happy being a paralegal.”
“…can’t believe you’re throwing it away for…
” he mutters, but I can’t understand him fully.
“You and I both know that isn’t true. That you aren’t the right fit, I mean.
You would be amazing at it. You’re kind and loyal, so I know you wouldn’t be one of those snake-like attorneys.
And you’re so smart, it’s insane. A fucking turn on like I’ve never experienced.
Just… the way your brain works is…” He sighs.
“And no one would be more dedicated to her clients than you would be.”
I melt, sinking lower on the couch as I let his words coat my heart like honey—warm, comforting, and so sweet.
I don’t deserve them.
“I don’t have the time or the money to go to law school. That automatically puts me under the ‘not right fit’ column. Immediately disqualified.”
“You can make it happen. You’re smart, and can get anything done when you put your mind to it. If anyone can manage everything that’s on your plate, it’s you.”
“I think you may be overestimating my abilities,” I say with an awkward laugh.
He scoffs. “You know, I’m real tired of you putting yourself down. More importantly, I’m tired of you putting yourself second, third, or even fourth.”
His words—the tone of them—are like whiplash from his previous praise. “Michael—”
“Seriously, it’s the same thing that happened with us.
You think you’re less than, so you decide not to fight for yourself, choosing instead to hurt both of us.
You’re doing the same here: not believing in yourself, settling for a paralegal position when everyone else knows you would be the best attorney at your firm. ”
I snort, but he doesn’t find my attempt to relieve the tension a bit funny. “Me not going to law school is not about not believing in myself. It’s about prioritizing my family and doing what’s best for it. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“How many times am I going to have to remind you that prioritizing yourself sometimes is what’s best for your family. That, in this case, it’s not an act of selfishness. That it’s the possibility of providing a better future for your daughters.”
I press my lips together. “Maybe it isn’t an act of selfishness for other people. Or maybe it wouldn’t be one if I didn’t have so much going on. But there is no way in hell I could go to school while having to focus so much on keeping my daughters healthy and happy.”
“Your daughters want to see you happy. I want to see you happy.”
“Well, I don’t see that happening any time soon.” I don’t mean for the words to slip out, but they do. A massive mistake, since we both immediately fall silent. And I know. I know he’s two seconds from losing the surprising and admirable control he’s maintained so far in this conversation.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think I should’ve called. I guess I just… missed you. And wanted to see how you were doing.”
A silence so dead leaves me checking to see whether the call dropped or not.
“Hello? You still there?”
Michael clears his throat once. “You’re right.
You shouldn’t have called,” he says, his voice a little rough, whatever hint of humor and lightness it held before now gone.
“I don’t think we should be having this conversation when you’ve been drinking.
Or at all, to be honest. I don’t think I have it in me. ”
“Michael, I—” The pit in my stomach I’ve been trying to distract myself from opens wide, a yawning abyss.
“You wanted this, Diana. You were the one who said you didn’t want to be together long-distance. I wanted to fight for us, and you said no.”
“I just wanted to see how you were doing,” I say, my voice breaking. “I just—”
“Missed me, I know. I miss you, too. More than I could ever explain in words. But I can’t just hop on a call with you and pretend everything is alright. And I certainly don’t want to get these calls when you’re drunk.”
“I’m not—”
“Whatever. After a few glasses of wine. When you’re feeling lonely.
How do you think that makes me feel? Because I could tell you, if you’d like.
” He exhales, sounding just as broken as I feel.
“I just… I can’t do this. I can’t be your friend or someone you call when you’re just alone and…
I thought I meant more to you than that. That you respected me more.”
“I do. I care about you. Please know that I would never intentionally hurt you.”
“Well, you’re fucking hurting me.” Now it’s his voice breaking. “I… I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I’ve never wanted anything more in my goddamn life the way I want you. And while I respect your decision to kick me to the curb—”
“I did not kick you to the curb. I—”
“While I respect your decision to break things off, then, I need a clean break. I can’t do this.
I can’t just keep waiting for you because it is going to end me, Diana.
I can barely breathe as is, and excuse me, but I need to keep my shit together for my daughter.
So… So I need to end this call, and you need to never call me again. ”
I bite my fist to keep from crying too loudly, squeezing my eyes shut. I don’t want to wake the girls, or let him hear me cry.
He sighs. “I didn’t mean that last part. Of course, if you ever truly need me—like actually need me—then I’ll be there, no questions asked. But I don’t think it’s fair of you to call me a few glasses of wine in ‘just to talk’ because you miss me after the way we ended things.”
“I’m so sorry, Michael,” I say, voice wet and blubbery.
He sighs. “Goodbye, Diana.”