In the three weeks since the confrontation between them, Lincoln had kept his distance. They’d had stuttering phone conversations full of long pauses until eventually they’d not even bothered. There was a strain on Sara that had little to do with her husband’s death and more to do with the chasm of confusing emotions between her and Lincoln. How had it all gotten so messed up? Everything had fit; everything had been complete before the wreck, before she’d lost her husband. Now there were just hundreds of puzzle pieces and nowhere to put them.
Lincoln was at her house now. He’d stopped on his way home from work. Her eyes kept going to him across the table, but words failed her. She didn’t know what to say. Sara wanted to hug him, to touch her cheek to his, to feel his arms around her and she also wanted to never see him again.
He sighed, tapping his fingers on the table. “This is awkward.”
“A little.” Sara pushed the cold cup of coffee between her hands.
He ran his fingers through his hair, hanging his head. “We fought about it once.”
“What?”
“You.” Lincoln looked up, piercing her with his powerful gaze.
“What do you mean? I don’t understand.” Liar, Sara.
“I think you do. I think you know what I mean. We fought about you, right before the wedding. Cole suspected my feelings for you. He confronted me. I didn’t admit it. I didn’t deny it. He knew.”
“What did he say?”
“He didn’t say anything. He punched me. He punched me in the face and said you were his. He said he’d seen you first, like that was enough to claim you as his.” Lincoln gave a bitter laugh. “Only he hadn’t. I told him that too. I was so angry, so sick of acting like it didn’t kill me every time I saw you together. I guess I told him that because I was hurting, knowing you were about to be married. I was desperate and I wanted Cole to hurt like I was hurting. It was a shitty thing to do.
“His eyes…they dimmed a little. He didn’t say anything. He just left. I felt like an ass and I suppose I should have. We never talked about it again. I don’t know why I’m even bringing it up. I guess, I don’t know…” Lincoln shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
“That was a mean thing to do,” Sara choked out.
“I suppose I never should have said anything, but—” Lincoln rubbed his eyes, his face tense with strain. “It was the one thing I had over him. That I saw you first. It was all I had and when he hit me, I just, I had to retaliate. Immature. Childish. I know.”
She stared at him, not really seeing him, but a memory.
Sara smiled at his reflection in the mirror as he came up behind her. “Ready to go?” She set the brush down, the smile leaving her lips as she took in his expression. Sara turned to face him. “What’s wrong?”
Cole averted his face as he played with the brush on the bathroom sink. “Do you…do you have any doubts, Sara?”
“What do you mean?” she whispered, dread forming inside her.
He rubbed his jaw, still not looking at her. “About us. The wedding’s coming up—“
“The wedding’s in two days,” she interrupted shrilly.
“Yeah. I just…do you? I have to know. Do you have any doubts?”
Her stomach dropped. “What? No. Never. Do you?” Sara’s pulse tripped as she choked the words out. If he doubted his love for her, she wouldn’t be able to take it. He was everything to her.
“No. Of course not. I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone, Sara. You’re it for me. I just…I wanna make sure I’m it for you too.” He lifted his head, showing his distraught eyes; a darker blue than they normally were with unhappiness. His jaw was tight, his lips pressed together.
“You’re it for me too, Cole,” she vowed, grabbing his dry, calloused hands and kissing the backs of them.
“Sure?”
“Positive.”
The troubled look faded and a grin captured his lips. “Better be. We got a wedding coming up.” He grabbed her and spun her around the small bathroom, knocking stuff over and making her laugh, which made him laugh.
Sara fisted her hands, staring at Lincoln. “You made him doubt himself. You made him doubt me. Why did you have to tell him that?”
Lincoln gritted his teeth. “I never gave him any reason to think I cared about you more than…more than I should have, but he thought it, knew it, anyway. I didn’t say anything until he punched me. I told you that. And if he had doubts, I didn’t put them there.”
“What are you saying? That he had doubts on his own about marrying me?” she whispered, her chest squeezing painfully.
“You think that’s what I’m doing?” His eyes flashed as he shot to his feet and advanced on her. “You think I’m trying to make you feel like shit? So what, I feel good or something? You really think I’d do that?”
“That’s what you’re doing.”
“It’s not what I’m doing!” Lincoln loomed over her, his face close to hers. “What I’m doing…what I’m doing…I don’t know what I’m doing.” Lincoln hung his head, his hair tickling her cheek.