Am I approaching this incorrectly?

My ex (23M) and I (21F) broke up on New Year’s Day. The first couple of weeks were incredibly tough for me; I cried a lot and kept apologizing to him. But one day I woke up and realized I needed to focus on healing from my miscarriage. My emotions were all over the place after losing the baby, but after speaking with my OB-GYN, I learned that I was experiencing postpartum stress, which I didn’t know how to cope with. On the day we broke up, I can confidently say that I pushed him away. He didn’t want to end things, but I repeatedly told him he wasn’t happy and he shouldn’t stay where he felt unfulfilled. I ended up turning my back, covering my ears, and begging him to leave my apartment. I broke down afterward but had to pull myself together because I had work. Recently, we’ve been going out together again, and we’re on friendly terms. We’ve been intimate occasionally, but I’ve set boundaries around that. Last Saturday, I got a call from him around 2 AM, but I didn’t answer since I was asleep. He left a voicemail saying “Hey baby.” I had someone else over at my place but decided to call him back an hour later after I saw the voicemail. He was clearly drunk and with a friend. When I asked what was up, he went on a long rant about how much he missed me, how he realized he loved me, and how he wished things had turned out differently with our baby. I mostly just listened, responding with “mhm” and “yeah,” while the other person I had over woke up in the middle of our conversation. I felt guilty for calling him back knowing I had someone else over, and I apologized for that, which he said he understood. On that outing, I had planned to cheer him up since he’s been dealing with a lot related to friends, family, and work. We had a good time bowling and supporting each other. However, on the way back, I decided to ask him, “Did you mean what you said on the phone?” He looked at me and responded, “I meant everything, but I don’t remember.” I didn’t say anything else during the car ride; I was just practicing my breathing exercises to stay calm. When we got back to my apartment, he wanted to sit down and talk, but I decided to take a shower instead, as I was feeling overwhelmed. Once I was out, he was sitting on my bed playing with my kitten, still wanting to talk. I told him I was really tired and asked if he was too. He knows me well enough to see through my avoidance, so he kept talking about how even if he couldn’t remember everything he said, he knew it meant something. I just stared at him until he prompted me to respond. I told him, “Whoever you have kids with next will be very lucky.” He looked at me and simply said, “I don’t want you going to bed angry, please just talk to me.” We ended up conversing, but I kept giving him one-word answers. He finally said, “I just want to feel the love we had before we get back together,” to which I laughed and lay down. We ended up being intimate, and he held me until he left for work the next morning. The day after our conversation, I told him never to call me when he’s drunk, regardless of how much he misses or loves me; I want no part in that. He mentioned he’s been drinking a lot lately, and that when I was pregnant, he felt a sense of purpose, focusing on ensuring that I and the baby were okay. But after the miscarriage and our breakup, he lost hope and only recently realized how it affected him. I understand all that, but I reminded him that he left me during my lowest point, and I can’t help him anymore—I don’t want to. I’ve moved on from the breakup and the loss, and I’m done. I told him to return my apartment key and collect his belongings. He argued it wasn’t necessary and urged me not to make a decision that could have lasting consequences. I acknowledged him and said, “I’ll hold onto your things until you get them, or I’ll drop them off at your place.” I feel like I’ve finally detached from him since that night. This is the same guy who begged me to have an abortion two years ago and again during my recent pregnancy. After much emotional turmoil, we had decided to keep the baby, but when we lost it, everything fell apart. There’s a lot more I could say, but fundamentally, I’m just tired. He mentioned that he turned down three girls, thinking that it would matter to me, to which I just said, “Okay.” Every time I think about telling him, “Whoever you have kids with next will be lucky,” I feel a strange urge to cry. I’ve done a lot of healing from my miscarriage and my abortion, but the memories still linger from time to time.