Light in the Shadows

then it was too late.
     
                    Because I heard her voice and there was no longer a decision to be made.  She still had me firmly by the balls.  There was no way I could hang up.  Not now.
     
                    “Hello?” Maggie’s voice was breathy, as though she had to rush to get to her phone.  I didn’t say anything, rendered mute, goosebumps breaking out over my skin.  God, this was a mistake.  What the hell was I thinking?
     
                    “Hello?” she said again and I knew she was about to hang up.  And the thought of her ending the phone call put me into a near panic. 
     
                    “Hey,” I said quietly.  I could hear her quick intake of breath and then utter quiet.  The phone buzzed in the silence as I waited for her to say something.  Anything. 
     
                  “Clay,” Maggie finally said.  She didn’t say my name as a question but as a statement.  And I noticed that her tone wasn’t a happy one.  Not the reception I’d hoped to have, but not unexpected.
     
                    “I just wanted to call and say…thank you.  You know, for my gift.  I loved it.”  I couldn’t get my voice above the barest whisper.  As if by speaking too loudly, it would shatter whatever this was. 
     
                    Again Maggie was quiet for a while and I wasn’t sure she was still there.  But finally, after a few minutes she said, “No problem.  Glad you liked it.”  I wasn’t deaf to the bitterness in her words.  I hated it.  I loathed the fact that it was directed at me.
     
                    I cleared my throat uncomfortably when it became obvious she wasn’t going to say anything else.  “Um…well…how have you been?” I asked lamely.  Christ, had I really asked that? Why didn’t I just ask her about the weather?  Because irrelevant conversation seemed all I was capable of. 
     
                    Maggie’s sharp bark of laughter let me know that she too thought my question of choice was a total joke.  “How have I been?  Before or after your Dear John letter?  Oh, I’ve been just peachy, I’m so glad you asked.”  Her sarcasm was laced with a very obvious anger.   Not that I didn’t deserve it, but damn, it sucked.
     
                    “About that letter…” I don’t know what I was about to say.  Maybe try to explain that I never had any plans to let her go.  That I loved her just as much, if not more than I ever had.  That there wasn’t a second of the day that went by that I didn’t think about her.  But I never got the chance.
     
                    Maybe I should tell her it was a lie.  That I didn’t want her to move on.  That the thought of her with another guy made me physically ill.  That the dozens of faceless jerks I envisioned her with each died a very painful death in my head. 
     
                    Because that would go a long way in proving my improved mental health.
     
                    “Save it, Clay.  I don’t want to hear whatever it is you feel the need to say.  You have no idea how I’ve wanted to hear your voice.  But now…I just can’t.”  The anger was gone and now she just sounded sad and I hated that even more.  I couldn’t fix this.  There was no way in hell Maggie would ever give me the chance to. I had messed up too badly. 
     
                     It’s what I had feared.  The scenario that kept me awake at night.  That even after I was able to get my life together, I wouldn’t have her to share it with.  And here it was, smacking me in the face.  It was the nastiest reality check I had ever had.
     
                    “I’m sorry,” I said into the silence.  No two words had ever been truer.  Or so completely inadequate. “Please know that.  I…I love you, Maggie.  Always,” I said in a rush of desperation.  I needed to say it.  Needed her to hear it.  If only one more time. 
     
                    I could hear Maggie sigh.  “I know you do, Clay.  But that stopped being enough three months ago.”  Fuck, that hurt.  And there went my heart breaking all over again
     
                    “Yeah, I get that,” was all I could say.  I couldn’t argue with her.  She was right.  Love had never been our problem.  No,