Magnolia
My phone vibrates in my palm, and I stare down at the screen as the seconds tick by.
I haven’t spoken to Lukas in weeks, but he’s left a handful of voicemails since then, and each time I catch one, it’s the same. My heart races, palms sweaty, fingers itching to swipe and hear his voice.
My heart and head are in a forever battle. One is telling me to hear him out, to take those baby steps, and get to know him again. One is begging me to snuff out the small flame that’s burning in my chest. The flame that never really disappeared, even when there was a time when I wished it would.
“Ahhhh,” I cry out, tossing my phone on the bed next to me. It stops ringing once it lands, and I stare at the screen, refusing to blink, counting down the seconds until his voicemail pops up.
Yet this time, it doesn’t, and for a split second, I worry that he won’t leave one.
Maybe he took my not-so-obvious hint. Maybe he’s already given up. Maybe our last conversation sits as heavy with him as it does with me.
My vision blurs, and I tilt my head back, pulling my top lip between my teeth to keep the tears from falling.
My phone vibrates again, and when I glance down, there’s a voicemail from Lukas waiting for me.
A relieved laugh escapes me, and I suck in a breath, the moment solidifying that as much as I don’t want to, I truly, honestly, miss Lukas.
“Dammit.”