Lukas #2
“She showed up at the farm one evening, and there she was, standing in the entry way of my parents’ dining room.
All I saw was a tall, thin woman. Her face was turned away from me, and I saw her blonde hair and my heart soared, Mags.
I thought it was you. I thought maybe you were in town, at my house, standing right in front of me, and it was my chance.
Then she turned, and I realized I didn’t recognize her, and my whole world shattered.
I was mean, so mean to her. We were at the bar one night, and she was sitting on Grayson’s lap, and by the look on his face, I knew he had fallen in love with her.
And I knew she loved him back. They’re perfect together, and I hated it.
Hated that he had the relationship I had, that I ruined. ”
She stands, coming over to me, her arms raised, but I reach for them, gently holding her wrists together and pressing them to my chest. “Grayson and Theo tried to have a come to Jesus talk with me, but I wasn’t hearing it.
I went home that night and…” My throat thickens, and I let out a rough exhale, feeling my eyes start to water.
“I drank myself stupid. I drank until I couldn’t think, couldn’t see.
I was at my lowest, but I wanted to go lower.
PTSD is a monster, Mags. A monster that will haunt someone and ruin the sunniest days when it wants to.
It was after me, and I wanted to fucking feed it. So, you know what I did?”
Her glossy eyes dart back and forth across my face. “What did you do?” she whispers.
“I wanted to call you, to fight, but I think I was too drunk to figure out how to. So, I played all your old voicemails. I have a dozen or so on my phone. Some where you still loved me, but those I skipped over. I wanted the sad ones, the ones where you were begging me to call back, and I was too stupid to. I figured hearing how sad you were and how much I hurt you would make me hate myself, and it worked.”
The first tear falls, splashing against her cheek, and I let go of her wrist so I can wipe her face, but for each tear that I swipe away, another one falls.
“I wanted to die, Mags. Well, maybe, I didn’t want to die, but I sure as hell didn’t want to live.
I lost it. I trashed my entire apartment, broke every piece of furniture with my bare hands until I was cut up and bleeding, and it still didn’t stop me.
It didn’t register until I put my fist through a window.
And when the pain registered, I took a step back and realized what I had become.
Just the piece of shit who had let everyone down.
I was ignoring my family, downright mean to you, to Holly, to Candi.
I was nothing but a drunk, and I think if I had the means to an end, I would have ended it right then and there. ”
“Don’t say that,” she cries, her hands circling my waist to pull me to her. She grips me tighter than she ever has, so tight it’s hard to breathe, and my arms wrap around her just as tightly.
“It was the middle of the night, and I called Grayson sobbing, begging him to come help me.”
“And did he?” she whimpers, her face buried against my chest. I can feel her tears falling against my skin, tickling as they trail down.
“He sure did,” I say softly. “He and Holly drove to town at four in the morning to get me. It was shameful, really, having my older brother literally pick me off the ground, but he did. They did. Holly knelt by me and took care of me even though I was nothing but an ass to her hours earlier. They took me back to my parents’ house, and Holly sat with me that morning.
We talked about you, about what happened between us.
She was the first person I told that Candi was pregnant, and her kindness that day stuck with me. ”
I could go on about the rest of the day, about having to tell my parents what I had become, the quiet drive when my dad and Grayson went to my apartment to salvage what I had left.
How my siblings banded together to clean up the mess, to finalize things with the landlord so I never had to set foot in that place again.
“I was so far gone, it was like they had to treat me like a child, to hold my hand as I took each step, and I’m fucking ashamed of it. ”
“Why?” she croaks, and she finally lifts her head to face me.
“That’s what people do when they love each other, Lukas.
In a relationship of any kind, someone has to be strong when the other is suffering.
It’s a give and take. They wanted to do that for you, because life without you in it?
” She pauses, her mouth quivering so badly she can barely speak.
“I’ve lived without you, Lukas, and I won’t ever do it again.
I need you to look at me, look at me and tell me that you know how many of us love you, and how many lives would forever be changed if you weren’t in it.
” Her hands grip my face, and she forces my head down, so we’re nearly eye level.
“I know, baby,” I whisper before leaning in to kiss her. “I know now that there is so much to live for, so much I have yet to do, so much waiting for me.”
“You know it, but have you forgiven yourself?”
I pull back, my lips still nearly pressed against hers. It wasn’t until I saw Mags that day at the rehab center that I started to feel like she could forgive me, or that I could forgive myself for what I had done to her, but I hadn’t thought about forgiveness in any other way.
“You need to be able to let it go,” she says, kissing me again, then moving to brush her lips against my cheek.
“You need to be able to forgive yourself for the things you did when you were sad. It’s okay, you know?
Forgiving yourself doesn’t mean acting like it didn’t happen, but there’s a part of me that feels like you’re still holding on to the tail of it.
Still holding that dark cloud over your own head.
Continually reminding yourself of how bad you got, and I don’t think you can be truly happy until you let it all go.
You made mistakes, Lukas, but we all do. ”
“I made so many mistakes, though.”
“And I think you’ve done enough time for each one of them, don’t you?”
Maybe she’s right. There’s still a part of me, something deep within that reminds me of the mean things I’ve said.
The things I’ve done when I was at my worst. I thought Mags forgiving me and allowing me this second chance would make it all go away, and it has, somewhat, but not all of it.
She's right that there's a part of me still holding back, one that's letting my scars and bad thoughts dictate my next step in life.
“Forgive yourself for it, Lukas,” she whispers against my cheek. Her arms curl around my neck, and she pulls me down to her. My lips find hers, and I kiss her, hard, choking back the tears that are begging to break free.
She deepens the kiss, and I lean her back, lower, lower, until I feel her body press against the bed. I lay all my weight on her, using my knee to push open her legs.
We make out like we’re teenagers alone for the first time.
I kiss her for every moment I wished I could kiss her in the past. I kiss her because I love her, because I refuse to imagine a life where she isn’t mine, where I’m not hers.
I kiss her like the world is ending tonight.
I kiss her until my lips are numb, until her tears have run dry, and her leg comes up to wrap around my lower back, pulling me to her.
She whimpers when I grind myself against her, and I break the kiss, practically ripping the T-shirt apart as I bunch it with both hands, lifting it as my lips find her skin.
I lose myself in her, pressing open mouth kisses to her chest, her nipples, moving my face down until my tongue swirls around her belly button, and when I pull back, her chest is heaving, eyes glazed over, and her nails are digging into my forearms.
I look down further to her spread legs and her perfect pussy that’s already glistening from my touch. “Baby,” I rasp, a palm rising to smooth up her leg, her waist, until I wrap my hand around one perfect tit. “I want you…” Her chest heaves, back arching when I flick her nipple with my thumb.
I lower my head, tongue swirling around her nipple, and a soft moan escapes her.
“Lukas,” she breathes, her hands digging into my hair.