Page 13 of Worth the Fight

The way I could watch her mouth move along with the words, her brows raise when she was discovering a twist as she was reading. The guy had called his wife, “my dearest love,” and something about those words clicked with me. For the next few months, I’d call Mags my dearest love, teasing her with a kiss on the cheek between classes. My throat tightens at the memory, and I clear it roughly, shaking the thoughts away.

“Um … not much else is new with me. Did I tell you Candi had another ultrasound the other day? Baby girl is doing well. Can you believe I’m going to be a girl dad next month? I’m ready, but not ready at the same time. I just want to see her. I haven’t ever held a baby before, so I think it’s pretty cool the first one will be my own. We’ve decided to name her Ivy. Ivy Peterson-Hart has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

I’ve barely said goodbye and set my phone on the nightstand next to me when it rings. I stare at the screen, unsure if this is a dream of sorts. Even if it is a dream, lucid or not, I'm going to give in, knowing a dream might be my only chance to hear her voice again. I swipe the screen, slowly bringing the phone to my ear. “Mags?” I croak.

“Lukas.” The way she says my name is serious, firm. I can hear the emotions lying underneath, threatening to push through.

“Mags, wow, I⁠—”

“I only called you back to tell you that you need to stop calling me,” she bites out.

All right. Not really sure what I expected. Honestly, I’ve just been talking to her voicemail for so long that I had started to give up on the idea I’d get a call back.

She’s pissed at me, and I don’t blame her, but her anger also sparks an ember of hope inside. Anger means she still has some feelings left toward me, whether they are good or bad. Feeling something is better than feeling nothing at all. Anger means that this might not be over.

“Magnolia, please, I just want to⁠—”

“No. You don’t get it, do you, Lukas?” Her voice waivers a little with her words, and she pauses. But when she starts again, her resolve is back. “It's been over a year since we broke up. I don't know what you're trying to do, but I can't do this.”

“All I wanna do is talk.”

“I can't talk. I can't pick up the phone and listen to you go on and on about how good you're doing. I'm glad you're sober, Lukas. I am. Believe me. I'm glad that you're mending your relationships with your family because you both need that. I want that for you. I only wish you the best in that way. But don’t you realize how much it hurts me? Every time you call and talk about her, about your baby, it’s like … like you try to undo all the progress I’ve made.”

Her voice cracks with the last word. I knew she wouldn’t love hearing from me and that it would sting to hear that I am having a baby with someone else. Hell, I know if the roles were reversed, if she was calling me, telling me how good she's doing, if she called and dropped the news that she was pregnant by someone else, I don't know what that would have done to me.

It probably would have destroyed the life I've just started to rebuild.

I rise from the bed, moving across my room to stand at the small single-pane window. I rest my elbows on top of the wood, forcing myself to be quiet and listen to her vent.

“You can’t just call and reminisce about how good we were. I know we were good, Lukas. I know what we had. I’m not the one who gave up on us, gave up on themselves. You just—” Her voice cracks, and she sucks in a breath of air.

My heart thumps against my ribs so hard I might feel that ache tomorrow. I know I hurt her. I know I broke her. Some memories of the end are fuzzy, dim, but I remember how mean I was. I remember how bitter the angry words felt on my tongue. Yet hearing her say it out loud still manages to sting.

She’s quiet for another breath, and then two. She doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t finish her sentence, but I know she's there. I can hear her casual frustrated breath and a little bit of noise as she rustles with something. Maybe she isn’t ready to talk, but at least she isn't hanging up on me.

“Magnolia, I know how this all sounds. I know how it probably looks to someone on the outside, and I know I haven’t given you any reason to give me a chance, but I miss you so fucking much.” I raise a hand and rake my fingers through my hair, tugging at the ends. “I physically ache without you, without getting to talk to you. I miss knowing you. I⁠—”

“But it's too hard, Lukas,” she interrupts, and it’s my turn to pause, waiting on edge to see what she has to say. But she stops herself, and I listen to her soft breathing.

Then I piece together what to say next. I might only have another minute or so before she hangs up on me. And who knows if she'll ever answer my call or call back again.

“I know it’s hard. I get that. But I want a chance, Mags. A chance to get to know you again, a chance to learn you, a chance to⁠—”

“You promised me!” she screams, shutting me up. “You promised me that we’d be okay. You said … you said that we’d make it. That we’d get through the hard part and be together. I thought we’d get married. I thought it would be us having a baby by now, not you and Candi. So, I’m sorry, Lukas, if I can’t plaster on a smile and tell you congratulations.”

“I know how it looks, Mags.” I try to stay calm. If she only knew what it was like between me and Candi. How little of a relationship we actually had. “I know if the situations were reversed, and you called me to say that you were having a baby, I’d hate it. But I also think that if our situations were reversed, I’d give us another chance.”

“That’s easier for you to say,” she whispers. “Don’t you remember me trying? Don’t you remember me calling and calling, leaving you voicemails, e-mails, texts. I was begging for you to talk to me, and you gave me nothing. You didn’t have the decency to call me, not once. Until you had good news to share. I thought I meant more to you than that. I thought our history meant more than that, and that sucks, Lukas. There’s no other way to say it besides it sucks.”

She’s right. She’s right about it all, honestly. “I know that you hate me.” It was a hard pill to swallow, knowing that I hurt her enough that her feelings could change so much, but it’s something I’ll have to make peace with if I want to win her back. “I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you, too. We both made a lot of mistakes during our relationship, and I want to own mine. I will own them. I’ll brand them on me, wear each one as a second skin if it means you’ll give me a chance.”

“I don’t know.”

“What will it take? I’ll tell you anything. Everything, Mags.”

“I don’t know if I can get over the fact that you’re having a baby with someone else.”

I wince at that. “You’re imagining it out to be love. Her and I were short-lived, and it was at my darkest point. I was drinking every day. High. Mags…” I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends until it stings. “I wanted to get over you, tried to. I asked her out on a whim, and even though I didn’t feel anything for her, I pushed on with the relationship anyways. I hate myself for that. I hate the way I treated Candi. I’m embarrassed at the man I became, Mags, and I get why you stopped loving me.”