Chapter 64
Lucas
I think it’s going to be a good day, the first one I’ve had in a month, when I get the phone call from the Hearts for Kids Foundation. They not only want to give me the funding I need, they make sure I have a cushion for unexpected expenses and payroll.
I don't plan on quitting my job outright, just cutting back on my hours initially, but it’s good to know the money is there.
I fight the urge to call Olivia. I want to share the good news with someone, and she’s at the top of that list. She’s the only one on that list. But we haven't spoken since the wake. So many nights I lay in bed wishing we could go back in time, but it’s too late. I fucked up. Somewhere along the line I wasn't enough for her.
Maybe I pushed too hard, too fast. Maybe talking about kids scared her and she felt like she couldn't come to me. I just didn't see it coming. I thought she was all in. The way I was.
Now that some time passed I know I’m never going to get over her. I'm willing to hear her out. But I can't bring myself to call. If I were her I'd never want to hear from me again. And I can't handle outright rejection from her.
I’m grateful the call came when it did. My life is so empty since we broke up. My prospects are so bleak, I almost called Joanna. I shudder at the thought. Unlike when it ended with Stacy, I don't want to get lost in anyone else. I don't want to be with anyone but Olivia. And alcohol doesn't numb me; it makes the emptiness darker. Deeper.
I don't expect to come home and find that she's been here, in my house, the house we’re supposed to share. I run my hand through my hair thinking I’m imagining things. The faint scent of her strawberry shampoo lingers in the air. My heart picks up speed, and for the briefest moment, I think everything is going to work itself out.
"Olivia?" I call out. "Honey, are you here?"
There’s no response, just deafening silence.
I run to the bedroom. Not that I expect to find her waiting in bed for me, although I’m willing to donate a kidney for that! But the few things she left behind, her hairbrush and perfume, are in the bathroom attached to bedroom.
There’s no sign of her. Not even her scent lingers in the bedroom. Of course she doesn't need the brush or the perfume after a month. She probably replaced them right away. Why did I let myself get so angry? I should've listened to her. I should've called her back after I cooled off. Why was I stupid enough to let her go in the first place?
"Olivia!" I call again as I make my way to the kitchen.
It’s empty, save the furniture and appliances. I pull a chair from the table to sit down. That's when I see it. I don't think she could've hurt me more if she brought a knife down and cut my dick off. Right in the middle of the table are her engagement ring, the key to my house and a post-it note.
I can't move. The ring makes it real. She moved on. I’m just a memory. Everything we had, all of our dreams, they’re gone.
After a long while, maybe minutes. Maybe hours. I pick up the ring and twirl it between my fingers. Flashbacks from the day I bought it rush to my mind. I squeeze my eyes closed trying to lose the images. Instead they’re replaced with memories of her sitting on Santa's lap and opening her gift. The light and happiness in her eyes convinced me that anything was possible as long as we were together.
Part of me feels like while she still had the key and ring, there was still a grain of hope for us. Not now. I pick up the post-it note ready to crumple and toss it in the trash. But I can't. I have to see what she wrote.
I will always love you. Happy Valentine's Day.
My heart leaps. What does that mean? I will always love you, so I want to cut out all reminders that you exist? Or I'll always love you, and I'm losing my mind without you? And she came on Valentine's Day. VALENTINE’S DAY! My head has been in such a fog, I forgot all about it.
I’m driving myself mad with countless possibilities behind the significance of coming today. I jump out of my seat. I know what I have to do. I have to go see if she’s alone. If she is, then I know we have a chance. If not, I have no choice but to walk away with my tail between my legs. I shove the ring in my pocket, grab my jacket, and head for Olivia's.
*
I park my car across the complex. I don't want to risk her seeing me. The only light coming from her apartment is from the T.V. I know she could be on the couch cozying up with someone, but I think the fact she’s home is a good sign. A first Valentine's Day together would call for something more than rented movies or television. At least our first Valentine’s would.
I zip my jacket up as I get out of the car. It’s a cold night. Little puffs of steam form as my warm breath hits the cool air. I walk for a while, keeping my eyes on her apartment, waiting for a hint of movement.
I don't want her to see me, don't want her to think I’m a stalker, then she may be afraid and it will be harder to win her back. Is that what I’m doing? Trying to plan a way to win her back?
Hell yeah!
With that thought, comes courage. I can do this. I just have to size up the enemy. I move closer, my eyes focus on the living room window. The lights flash on. This is my chance. I can see inside while it’s more difficult for her to see outside.
She’s on the phone. It’s her land line, not her cell. She never uses that line. I can't see anyone but her as she moves to towards the window and closes the blinds.
Shit. Did she see me?
I need to move. She can't catch me here, it’ll ruin everything. I pull the hood of my jacket up and cross the street as I walk back toward my car. I hear her door open and have no idea what to expect. If I was with her, I would've run out and beat the crap out any guy loitering around her apartment.
"That's right, keep moving or I'll call the cops and have your ass thrown in jail, you freak!"
Someone must have seen me and alerted her. I didn't want to frighten her, but I’m glad I did. The sound of her voice makes me giddy. I won't risk getting in my car until I’m certain she’s safe inside. After all, she’s alone. She has to be, or else the guy she’s with would've come to the door, or at least stood beside her.
"Happy Valentine's Day, baby," I whisper in the hopes the wind will carry my message.