But this time I will be in Copper Ridge without Magnolia.
I haven’t returned her last few voicemails. I should, I think. I need to. But even though her words are kind, and I’m sure she means them, there’s parts of me she hates.
Hell, maybe she hates me as much as I hate myself.
There isn’t much more I could tell her now than I could have told her six months ago.
But maybe, just maybe, once I get home, I’ll get my head on straight.
Or maybe this sleepless, pissed-off version of me is the only thing I have left. And if that’s true, Magnolia will be better offwithout me. There’s nothing left of me, nothing good left inside. I can feel myself slipping, changing, but I can’t gather the energy to change the path I’m on.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, surprised to see a voicemail from Magnolia when I didn’t even feel it ring.
I swipe it open and bring the phone to my ear.
“Hey, Lukas, it’s me.”
Her voice is soft, sad … defeated. And I can’t help but hate myself just a little more, knowing I did that to her.
I had the most gentle soul, a dreamer, a hell of a woman all to myself, and I broke her. I had a woman that was willing to do anything for me, and instead of leaning on her, of letting her in, I pushed her away. I broke every promise I ever made to her.
“This will be the last time you hear from me,”she says before taking a long pause.“I get that you don’t want me to talk to me anymore. I think a small part of me still held out hope that we could try. I don’t have anything new to say, I guess. I honestly don’t even know if you will listen to this, or if you’ve listened to any of my other messages. All I know is that I’ve loved you since I was fifteen years old, and no matter what happened between us or how much time passes in the future, I’ll never forget that. You are a good man, Lukas. Deep down, you are. You have such a good life ahead of you, just waiting if you would give it a shot. I just hope that you get the help you need.”Her voice cracks at that, and I swallow my own sob, the first tear breaking free. It slides down my cheek, catching in my beard, and with no one around to see me crumble, I let it fall.
I hear her sniffle on the other end, and then she clears her throat.“This is so fucking hard. But I guess, I just wanted to say goodbye. I’ll stop calling, and I think it’d be best if you don’t try to call me back. That way we can both move forward, you know? I hope we both do, and I hope someday, I can look back at all this and understand what happened between us.”Her voice cracks again and she comes back with a pained laugh.“Ahh, this was always the hard part, the goodbye.”She’s quiet for a minute, exhales loudly, and then starts again,“But that’s how it always was with us. We were never good at the goodbye, were we, baby?”
CHAPTER 38
Lukas
TWENTY-SIX YEARS OLD
Two packages of ham and a bag of sliced cheese. I wander the aisles of the local market, waiting, hoping that maybe, something will appeal to me. That I’ll have some spark of an appetite and eat for joy, and not just to stay alive. Aisle by aisle, my heavy steps wander, and I find myself in the juice aisle, ready to reach for a pack of sports drinks when the label of a bottle of pomegranate juice catches my eye, the ruby hue making my chest ache.
“What do you think, baby?” Magnolia applies another layer of gloss to her lower lip before she leans back, adjusting the mirror in my passenger seat so the sun shines on her. “It’s called Pomegranate Punch, I just got it today.”
With her gaze still locked on her lips in the mirror, I lean back in the driver’s seat, stretching my arm out to rest on the back of her seat, and I take her in.
She’s fresh from ballet class with one of my sweatshirts drowning her thin frame. Her legs, covered in tights, are curled under her, and I can already see the swelling starting in her feet. I’m sure I’ll be massaging them tonight, just like I do most nights after she gets out of a long day in the studio.
“Lukas,” she calls, turning to face me. She reaches up, pulling the pins out of her sleek bun, and her soft blonde hair falls down in messy waves over her shoulders. She rakes her fingers through her scalp, eyes locking with mine as she combs her hair.
“What’s that, baby?” I muse, and she cocks her head at me.
“Are you even listening?”
“I always listen to you, sweetheart.” I lean forward, reaching over to grab her left foot, and when my thumb digs into the arch like she loves, she groans and her eyes roll back in her head.
“Good, Lord, that feels incredible.”
Using my grip on her foot, I tug her across the seat, and she squeals when I pin her underneath me. “You were asking what I think of your purple plum lip stuff,” I murmur, my mouth hovering just over hers.
“Pomegranate Punch.”
“Mmmmm.” I lean in, brushing my lips over hers. The taste of fruity something meets my tongue, and I deepen the kiss when her fingers rake over my scalp. She grips my hair, and her leg comes up to wrap around my hips.
When I pull back, she pouts, and I plant another soft kiss on her lips. “I think I love Pomegranate Punch, and I sure as hell love you, baby.”
I take one step back, then another, my eyes refusing to lose sight of the pomegranate juice until I’m a dozen or so feet away. Then I spin, muscle memory taking hold and I leave the juice aisle, taking a right and walking two aisles over.
