Time ticked by, slow and painful; that horrible thing inescapable no matter how much she wanted to. They quietly grieved him and each other. He was gone, and so was a part of her, and so was a part of Lincoln. Sara inhaled and exhaled, gently pulling away. She moved down a step, still sitting with her back to Lincoln, but not touching.
“He always wanted to be more like you. He said you had all the brains and talent and he just had the brawn. He said it annoyed the piss out of him because he was the older brother and you were supposed to look up to him, not the other way around,” Sara said softly, staring at the white wall.
A long pause ensued before Lincoln said brokenly, “I looked up to him.”
She nodded, blinking her eyes against the endless tears. “He knew you did. He loved you so much, Lincoln. If we…” Sara swallowed as a fresh wave of pain washed over her; a different kind of pain, but as profound as the pain of losing him. The pain of a lost child never held, never seen. “If we’d had a baby, he said he hoped he or she took after you more than him. He said, of course, he or she could take after me however much they wanted.” Her voice cracked.
Lincoln didn’t say anything for a long time. Sara knew why. If he tried to talk, he would break down, lose control. She’d been there. She was there now.
His voice was strained when he finally said, “Come on. Let’s get a cup of coffee. Or not. I don’t care. As long as we leave here. I don’t want you to be alone. And I don’t want to be alone either.”
She heard and felt him move behind her and a hand appeared before her face. Sara looked up, flinching at the damaged look of Lincoln. His shoulders were hunched as though to protect himself against unfathomable anguish and there were brackets around his lips. Without thought, Sara stood and grabbed him, pulling his stiff body to her. He slowly hugged her back and when he did, it was crushing, but essential. They were struggling, both of them. It was real. How could it be real?
“I don’t want to be alone,” Sara whispered. If she was alone, she feared she’d disappear and never come back. She’d lose herself and be trapped within herself, like him. Sara would disintegrate.
She began to walk down the steps, her legs stiff, her movements jerky. The walls and stairs moved around her, shrinking and growing before her, and she paused as a wave of dizziness plowed into her.
“Sara?”
He’s gone. Sara closed her eyes, swaying back and into Lincoln. His hands gripped her shoulders and steadied her. Nausea formed in her stomach and Sara stumbled down the rest of the stairs and outside, falling to her knees and retching in the bushes beside the tan-stoned hospital.
She dry-heaved long after the small amount of food in her stomach was gone. An acidic taste in her mouth and over her teeth and tongue, Sara grimaced. The cold chilled her more than she already was, biting and unforgiveable. It jabbed at her, stabbing its hatred toward her into the sensitive skin of her flesh. Even the wind blamed her. You just killed your husband, it shrieked. Her body jerked from the icy air, from the guilt. It registered in her head that Lincoln was behind her, holding her hair away from her face. It was too much. Sara hung her head, the pain building and building and rupturing from her in broken sobs.
“Come on, Sara, let’s take you home.” Lincoln let her hair fall through his fingers and reached for her.
Sara let him help her, let him escort her to his truck. Her teeth chattered. The ice was crawling up her legs, entering her heart, and freezing it over. When he buckled her in, she wept harder. Sara was dying, dimming, fracturing. Lincoln stood by the door, saying nothing. He didn’t have to. Finally he shut the door and got in on the other side of the truck.
***
The thought of going into their house, knowing with an aching finality he would never be in it again, was something Sara couldn’t deal with. Lincoln somehow knew that and had wordlessly driven to his house instead of hers. How long they’d sat in the unmoving and quiet truck, Sara had no recollection.
The truck was off. She stared straight ahead, seeing him standing on the deck, adjusting his baseball cap, laughing. She could smell the dirt layered on him from work, the somehow sweet taste of beer on his lips. He turned and winked at her, his blue eyes promising he’d love her in all forms once they got home. She sucked in a painful breath, bending over from the agony of it. It was happening. Sara was finally crumbling, splintering into so many pieces she’d never be able to be put back together again.