Leaving Lucas by Shannon Hart
If you missed Part 1, you can read it here.
If you missed Part 2, you can read it here.
“I left my job didn’t I?” he answered, leaving only half a millisecond gap between the end of my question and the beginning of his answer – if that was even an answer.
“That’s not a real answer, Luke.”
“What do you want me to say? God, Katie. I love you. I want to be with you. I can’t imagine what my life would be like if I wasn’t with you. Of course I have doubts. Of course I’d prefer not to move all the way to Georgia and do God knows what for a living! But if staying here means not being with you, then I don’t want to stay.”
My knees started to weaken. He sounded angry and emotional, but what he was saying was so undeniably sweet.
“But Luke, what if you hate it there? Or what if you don’t find a job that you like? Are you going to resent me for it? Are you going to hate me for taking you away from your life here?”
He didn’t answer.
I kind of wished he did answer because then I’d have a good indication of whether I was just thinking crazy thoughts or justifiable fears.
“I don’t want to be selfish here, Lucas. I don’t want to demand you to do something for me and in the end still end up losing you anyway.”
“But you wanted me to go with you! Wasn’t that the whole reason for breaking up in the first place? Because I didn’t want to go with you?”
“Well, yes, in the beginning. But I’ve thought this through. I shouldn’t have asked you to go with me. I mean… you don’t owe me anything. I had no right to demand that you turn your life upside down for me. It’s not fair to you. I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t really want to do,” I said, suddenly feeling exhausted about everything.
The truth was, even as I was saying those words, I didn’t really believe them. I did want him to turn his life upside down for me. I did want him to move away with me. But… somehow I was convinced he didn’t really want to. And because I loved him, I wanted to set him free.
Was I stupid or what?
“Katie, listen to me,” he grabbed my hands and clutched on to them tightly. “I didn’t want to go at first. I admit it. But I’ve thought about it and the two weeks that we were broken up were the worst two weeks of my life. I don’t ever want to feel like that again. Ever. Anything is better than being without you. Jobless or miserable in a new city, whatever; those things I can get through… but I can’t get through life being without you.”
He forced me to look at him and reluctantly, I did. I looked into his deep sea-blue eyes and within moments felt myself drown in them. It was so comforting and familiar, like coming home after a long exhausting safari. With Lucas, in his arms, looking into his beautiful eyes was where I was supposed to be. All of a sudden, I couldn’t even remember why I was so doubtful of him. I couldn’t recall why it was so difficult for me to believe that he really was willing to do this for me.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked, finding the need to ask one more time before completely surrendering.
He nodded anxiously. “I’ve never been so sure in my life.”
I closed my eyes and closed my mind – I didn’t want to give it another chance to rethink things or over analyze everything again like I always do – like I did the last twenty-four dreadful hours.
What was I thinking – doubting Lucas?
I rested my head against his chest, and felt the sweet lullaby of his heart beating steadily. It was beating harder than usual but all the more comforting – the thought that holding me still had that affect on him made me believe him even more.
“So… are you going to call the travel agent and cancel your flight?” he dared himself to ask.
I shook my head.
“What? But…” he protested.
I looked up at him and smiled. “Not before you put that ring on my finger. I think it’s about time.”
He sighed in relief. He pulled out the beautiful ring from his pocket – I felt the box poking at me when he was holding me – and lovingly slipped it on my finger before drowning me in one of the most passionate kisses I had ever experienced in my entire life.
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