It was his turn to snort. Lincoln glanced at her, a smile teasing his lips. “Now what would be the sport in that?”
Sara took a deep breath of frozen air, the air so cold it was hot inside her mouth and throat. “I remember what you said.”
He stiffened beside her, his expression giving away nothing. “What do you mean?”
“On the river, two summers ago, what you said. A few weeks ago you asked me if I remembered. I did. I do.”
Lincoln stared down at the ground. “It doesn’t matter.”
“But it must. I mean—you wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, right? Is it supposed to mean something? I don’t understand the significance of it. Or maybe I do, but I don’t want to. Or…not. I don’t know what I’m trying to say.” Sara sighed and faced the wood house.
“It was nothing, Sara.”
He was lying to her. Sara turned her head so she could see his profile. He didn’t move, he didn’t blink, as her eyes perused the side of his face. “It was something,” she clipped out.
“You’re right. It was, but…” Lincoln sighed. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“Why doesn’t it matter?” She waited for his answer, wondering why she was having such a hard time sucking air into her lungs.
His eyes fixated on her; there was something about the endless gray depths of them; the way they smoldered like smoke from a fire, mysterious and magnetic. “I’m trying…so hard…to do the honorable thing, Sara,” Lincoln said, his voice harsh with emotion.
She frowned, moving back a step. “What do you mean, Lincoln?”
“I feel like Jekyll and Hyde most times I’m around you.” He studied her face. “You must think I’m crazy.”
“Right now, at this moment, yes, I do,” she said.
Lincoln didn’t laugh; he didn’t even smile. “When you want something so bad, when you deny yourself it, day after day, for so long, after a while, you ask yourself why you’re even doing it. You hope it will fade and die; you hope your secrets won’t be revealed, because it wouldn’t just kill you if they were, but it would kill other people as well. So you forsake yourself for the greater good, but sometimes, most times, it’s too much of a burden, Sara. Do you know what I’m saying?” he asked slowly.
She backed up another step, shaking her head. “No. I don’t,” she said, her voice cracking.
“Sara.” Lincoln moved for her.
Sara put a hand out. “Don’t.” She spun around, hurrying up the hill. He called after her in a ragged voice, but she didn’t pause, didn’t turn around. Tears, warm and unwanted, trickled down her face and her chest hurt so bad she wondered if she could pass out from it. Whatever he was trying to tell her, she didn’t want to know it. She couldn’t know it.
***
As soon as the door opened, she blurted, “I’m sorry.”
He blinked tired eyes at her, moving away from the door to let her enter. “For what?”
“For the other day, when I left. I’m sorry. And also, for now, for showing up so late and unannounced. It’s almost ten at night and you probably have to work tomorrow.” She was shivering, partly from the cold, partly from the words that had haunted her since the minute Lincoln had spoken them.
Lincoln groaned, rubbing his eyes, making them redder than they already were. “Oh my God, Sara, I’m so sick of hearing you say that. I don’t want your apologies.” He turned away from her.
“Then what?” She swallowed; eyes on his tense back. “What do you want?”
He swung around, locking her in place with his gaze. “Do you really want to ask that?”
Sara backpedaled from the power of Lincoln’s gaze, from the ferocity of him. “I don’t know what you mean.” Yes, you do. She felt like she was playing a game and one false move and she would lose. But it wasn’t a game; it was their lives.
“You always say that. But I think you do.” He cocked his head. “Maybe you just don’t want to.” Lincoln stepped toward her. “I’m sick of this, Sara. I’m sick of you blaming yourself, I’m sick of seeing you hurt like you do. I’m sick of pretending, I’m sick of being your buddy when all I want to do is…” Lincoln pressed his lips together, shaking his head.
Sara sucked in fast breaths, her hands opening and closing at her sides. She showed Lincoln her back, his words incomprehensible, the look in his eyes undeniable. Sara closed her eyes against it, but it was burned into her retinas. She couldn’t make it unseen. She couldn’t remove it from her mind.
“I saw you first,” whispered through the air.
Sara stiffened, her heart immediately beating too fast. She kept her back to him. “What?” came out strangled.