He blinked. “What?”
Sara’s body was trembling and her stomach kept swooping, over and over, until she felt sick. She walked to his recliner, staring down at it, wishing he was sitting in it. “That night, the night of the wreck, I closed my eyes while I was driving, just for a second, but it was enough.”
Lincoln didn’t speak. Everything went still as she waited, dreading his reaction. Sara didn’t want to see the expression on his face, but her eyes drifted to it anyway. It was blank. Perfectly, carefully blank. She swallowed, pressing an arm across her midsection.
When he slowly stood and walked the few steps it took to reach her, his body heat and lemony scent gently waving over her like a caress, Sara averted her face. If she saw in Lincoln’s eyes what she’d seen in his father’s and what she imagined she’d see in her husband’s if he was ever to open them again, she’d shatter. It would be the end of her. Isn’t that what you want? a voice mocked.
But then he raised his hand and touched her cheek, his rough fingers gently pushing her face in his direction so Sara couldn’t avoid his eyes. What would she see in them? What did she see in them? Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to define it. Lincoln’s eyes were stark, full, immersed in a strong emotion; one Sara couldn’t describe. He studied her, seeing her, looking past her barriers and into her pain-filled world. Lincoln saw her.
One word. One softly whispered word left his lips. “Don’t.”
Sara should have been immune to them by now, but watery drops of sorrow fell from her eyes anyway. She moved away from Lincoln, turning to stare out the living room window at the snow-filled scene. The snowflakes fell in wispy feathers of winter, trickling from the sky in slow motion. She clenched her jaw and blinked her eyes to keep a sob within, but it made its way from her in spite of her efforts to keep it in. She wrapped her arms around herself and hung her head, her shoulders shaking from the force of her weeping.
“Stop blaming yourself. You closed your eyes for one second? Big deal, Sara. It’s not your fault. One second of not looking at the road does not put you at fault. The other driver was drunk and crossed into your lane. How the hell is that your fault? Cole wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. Was that your fault too?”
“Stop it!” Sara whirled around, pinning Lincoln in place with the look on her face. She clenched her fists at her sides, her body’s convulsions growing with anger. “Just stop it. Stop being my personal support team. Stop trying to make me feel better. Stop trying to do whatever it is you’re doing. I don’t want you to try to make me feel better. I don’t need you to. What I need, what I want, is for you to leave me alone.”
It was a lie. It was a lie and it tasted like a lie, bitter with injustice, on her tongue. Sara almost took it back. When she saw the look on Lincoln’s face, she yearned to take it back. It closed. His face, the life in it, it shut down. She tried to look away, but something wouldn’t let her. Her conscience, maybe. Look at what you’ve done; see what you’ve done to him, the only person who really understands, who really cares about you. Are you happy?
“That’s the way you want it?” A tick under his eye drew her attention to it. It pulsated there; anger in his veins even.
“Yes,” she croaked, finally able to look away. Her gaze fell to the empty recliner and her throat tightened. Go away, Lincoln, go away and leave me with my pain.
“That’s too bad, Sara.”
Her head shot up.
“I’m not going anywhere. Deal with it. And on that day you sign the papers, I’ll be right there with you. And on that day Cole takes his last breath, I’ll be there too. I’ll be around, even when he’s gone. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you.” Lincoln’s eyes flashed as he leaned his face close to hers. “You don’t get to tell me to leave you alone. I’ll never leave you alone. I’ll never abandon you. That’s my promise to Cole and that’s my promise to you.”
Lincoln left, and with him went a little of her fear. Sara stared at his truck as it pulled away from the curb, and even with the distance between them, she could see his profile was stiff, unmovable. Why did he have so much faith, so much belief, in her? Sara was undeserving and at the same time so very grateful. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, some of the guilt disintegrating with his words echoing through her head.
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