Magnolia
“Are you all right?” Lukas asks as we walk side by side out of the rehab facility.
The early-afternoon sun shines brightly above us, attempting to warm the chilly spring air.
A brisk wind picks up, swirling around the two of us, and it’s cold enough that I wrap the panels of my sweater around myself, hugging my core to ward off the chill.
I laugh a little at his question. All right?
Sure, depends on which way you’re asking.
“I just miss her, you know? I don’t get home too often, not nearly as often as I’d like.
” We approach the side of his truck, and my heart tugs a little at the sight of it.
This truck holds a lot of memories for us.
Lukas bought it on a steal back in high school, and since it sat idle while he was in the military, it still looks brand new even though it’s older.
He crosses over to the passenger side with me, his hand darting out to reach for the handle before I can even try. Not once have I opened my own door with Lukas around, and it was a habit I got used to early in life, only to find out that not every man holds that same level of chivalry.
He opens the cab door, and I hop in. As I reach for the seatbelt, he does the same and our fingers tangle together. He drops his hand abruptly, his eyes darting to the pavement at his feet. “Sorry,” he says. “Muscle memory, I guess.”
I’ve always loved how protective Lukas was. How he valued my safety. What started out as a joke, that he didn’t trust the sea belt at first to keep me safe, turned into another favorite thing of mine. He stands idly while I lock the belt, and when I’m tucked in and comfortable, I turn back to him.
His eyes shine a bit, and I tilt my head, a slight question passing between us.
“Wasn’t sure I’d ever see you in the cab of my truck again, that’s all.”
His voice is low, soft, and that feeling is back, the one that starts in my chest, swirling around until it crawls up my neck, begging my eyes to sting.
I lock on his crystal-blue eyes, and for a moment, I catch myself almost leaning in to kiss him, just like I used to do after climbing into his truck.
“Thank you,” I blurt out, and his brows pull together. “For Nana. I never thanked you for finding her that day, for checking in on her regularly, and caring about her like I do.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Mags. You know how much she means to me.”
Goosebumps spring up on my arms even though I’m sheltered from the wind in his truck.
Oh, how I missed hearing him call me Mags.
He’s said it over the phone a couple times, and once in the rehab center.
You’d think I would be used to it after all this time, but I think I went so long without hearing him say it like he is now—cautious, softer, laced with emotion.
It pulls my heart to him so quickly it’s nearly dizzying.
Lukas slams my door, and I inhale a heavy, ragged breath.
My nostrils fill with the scent of him, of the ranch, of his lingering cologne and something that’s so unmistakably Lukas.
I run my hands over the fabric of the seat, the feeling familiar under my palm.
This truck holds a lot of memories for us.
Some incredible ones, some that would make me blush.
Some darker ones, too, small arguments, disappointment.
Ones I had forgotten until now. They push themselves through the forefront of my mind, muscling past my anxiety over Nana and dread over the flight back to Paris.
They slam into me so fast that my head falls back to rest on the seat.
My eyes fill with tears again, and this time, I’m not sure if it’s just leftover emotion from seeing Nana, from seeing Lukas, or the havoc my body has been through with the red-eye flight and drastic time changes.
In many ways, he’s still the same Lukas. The same man I fell in love with. He looks the same, sounds the same. If it wasn’t for my still-broken heart and the car seat secured in the backseat of his truck, I’d say that nothing had changed.
“Hey, you okay?”
I didn’t even realize Lukas had climbed into the truck. But his gaze is on me with one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting along the back of the seat.
“It’s both incredible and hard to be home sometimes, you know?” I force my gaze away from the seat and look around at the parking lot. “When my mom picked me up from the airport, the drive home was … different.”
He nods once but doesn’t say anything, waiting for me to continue.
“It’s hard to see home change so much when I’m gone.
” Where there were once fields all along the highway, now the crops are ripped up and paved with parking lots.
Big box stores have replaced mom and pop shops, and small subdivisions circle around man-made lakes that seem to be in the middle of nowhere.
“So much has changed, and I’m glad to see that Copper Ridge isn’t dying out, but… ”
“It’s weird to see some of the places we knew as kids are now gone,” he finishes.
“Exactly. My mom said they’re putting a supply store in old man Winchester’s field. Remember sneaking out to go there?”
He chuckles, nodding along. “We’d meet up and have a bonfire with friends in the old gravel pit behind it.”
Mr. Winchester had a grandson that was a grade older than us, and it seemed like the safe place to go as teens.
Somewhere secretive, hidden, away from the noise where people who wanted to drink could do that, or people like Lukas and me could just get away to spend more time together.
While everyone was standing around the bonfire drinking, Lukas and I would sneak into the woods.
He’d press me against a tree and kiss me foolishly.
I can still feel the scrape of the bark against my back, feel my heart beating wildly inside my chest.
Lukas starts the engine, turning on the heat and adjusting the vents to face me. His palm rests over one, as if waiting until it’s the perfect temperature before fully adjusting them in my direction. “Good?”
I nod, barely able to face him before I force my head in the opposite direction, looking out the passenger side window.
“Are you hungry? Do you want to grab some food before going to the airport?”
“No, I ate at my parents’ house before going to the rehab center. We can go somewhere if you’re hungry, though.”
“Do you need to stop at home?”
“No.” I lift my carry-on bag that’s sitting protectively on my lap like a shield. “This is all I have, and I said goodbye to my parents already. And once Nana is home safe, they’re going to fly to France to see me.”
He’s quiet for a few minutes, and I wait for him to put the truck in drive.
We’ll arrive at the airport a few hours earlier than needed, but that’s okay.
I’ll use that time to rest and try to wrap my head around the last twenty-four hours.
Lukas puts the truck in reverse, his arm slinging back over the seat to look behind us as he pulls out of the parking spot.
Once he turns, his gaze falls to something in the back.
He stretches to reach for it, bringing a small paper bag to the front seat.
“Shoot. I forgot I told Candi I’d run this out to their house.” He shakes the bag, and I can hear something rattle inside. “Ivy has been fighting an ear infection. She’s almost out of medicine, and Rick is gone for work.”
He hesitates for a moment, and I stare down at the bag still in his hand. “There’s time to stop on the way to the airport. It’s fine.”
I may be angry. Hurt. Confused. But I’m not going to deny a child their medicine.
His gaze holds mine for another minute, then nods once before pulling out of his parking spot and maneuvering through the lot to the main road.
I keep my gaze out the window, pretending to be occupied with the scenery, ignoring the dread filling my gut as we start the drive to Candi’s house.
What if she’s outside? What if she meets him at the truck and I have to stare into the eyes of the woman who Lukas has a child with?
The day Lukas had called and told me that Candi was pregnant, I was standing in the hallway eating a quick protein bar before my last class.
His words hit, and my stomach lurched. I hunched over and threw up in the nearest garbage can.
I skipped rehearsal that day, feigning a sudden stomach bug.
I went home and crawled under the covers and cried myself to sleep.
I ignored all calls from Raymond, Ronaldo, my girlfriends from work, letting my sorrow take hold and slept for hours.
When I woke and night had fallen, I sat awake for hours, filled with a new sadness I hadn’t felt before.
Even though I initiated the breakup, Lukas hadn’t answered any of my calls after.
Even though I made the decision to try to move on, I realized there was no getting over Lukas Hart.
Missing him was like missing a part of myself, a limb I had lost years ago but swore I could still feel it when I moved.
I spent so long wondering how it was so easy for him to move on, how he could not only date but meet someone he wanted to have a child with.
I imagined him rolling over next to her in the night, searching for her.
He’d reach over and wrap his arm around her waist, tugging her to him and pressing his lips to the side of her neck.
I imagined her getting his smiles, his teasing, playful nature.
I imagined the three of them getting to play baseball at our old farmhouse, and that thought, the idea that my dream could be taken away from me so easily, the pain from that was something I could never have prepared myself for.
“Would you want to come inside when we get there? Meet Ivy?”
My head whips to face him, and he stares cautiously at the road ahead, flipping on his blinker to change lanes.
“Meet her? Them? I don’t have anything against your child, Lukas, but I don’t think I have the stomach for it.”
“Why’s that?” he asks tentatively.