“You at rehearsal?”
“Company class. Just about to walk in.”
I walk the next minute or so in silence, and when I nod to the guards at the gate, I take a step to the side. “I’ll let you go then.”
“Why did you call?” she bites out. “And how come you only call me when you’re like this? Do you realize that, Lukas, that you don’t call me when you’re sober?”
I roll my eyes, and the guards at the gate catch it, chuckling amongst themselves. “That’s not true.” Or maybe it is. Hell, I can’t remember much right now.
“Sure seems like it,” she says softly. “This is our new normal. You call when you’ve been drinking, and I ask that you call me the next day. But do you? No, you find a reason not to. Then you text, apologizing for everything, and I accept. Then we move on and pretend that nothing ever happened.”
Sounds like a plan to me.
“Can I come see you, Lukas?”
“It’s January, this is your busiest season.”
“It’s all a busy season, but I need to see you. We need to see each other. I’ll find a way. Or … could you come here? Do you get any time off?”
“No, sorry, babe. I can’t get more than a few days at a time.” Lies. It’s all lies. It’s the same thing I told my family when I said I couldn’t come home for a visit. The truth is, when I got back to the States, I had weeks where I could have gone to see them or Mags. Hell, I had enough time to see them both. But I lied.
I spent two weeks by myself. Rented a shitty hotel room by the beach. Drank most days. Thought about everything and nothing at the same time.
For the majority of the last two years, I dreamed of the day when I returned home. When I could put the military behind me and go back to the way things were. It wasn’t until my foot stepped off the plane on American soil that I realized I don’t know how to be a regular person anymore.
I’m home. I could hop on a plane and go see my family, my parents. I could fly overseas and be at Mags’s doorstep before she goes to bed tonight. Yet, I can’t get myself to do any of it.
They want to see me, sure. But they want to see the old Lukas, the one they knew before I left. The version I am now doesn’t have much to offer them. Anyone, really. Most days, I don’t have much to say. Even going out with the guys tonight, I mostly sat in silence, sipping my drink like it was my lifeline.
She says she wants to talk to me, that she wants me to tell her what I’ve been through. But she has no idea what a request like that means. She’d break if she knew the thoughts that keep me awake, the images that flash through my mind like a masochistic highlight reel from the last two years. If she only knew that me not talking is what’s best for us. For everyone.
“I need to get to class,” she finally says.
“Alright…” I pause, catching myself saying that I’ll call her tomorrow, which we both know won’t happen.
“You’re back on base, safe?”
“Yup.”
“Alright. Goodnight, Lukas.”
“Night.”
The background noise dies out, and I know she hung up on me.
At some point since I arrived back, we stopped ending every call with our routine, “Love you, miss you.” I still love her, still miss her. And I hope some part of her feels the same. But she’s irritated. Angry. Likely disgusted with the man I’ve become. And honestly, I don’t blame her.
CHAPTER 32
Magnolia
Me:
Are you free tonight? Can we talk?
Me:
I should be done with class any minute, maybe you could call me before work?
