“Well, here I am.” Lincoln lifted his arms out, his movement raising his shirt and exposing his hard stomach. “You did your civic duty. You’re not obligated to hover. I’m a big boy.”
“Lincoln, what you said—“
“Which time?” he interrupted.
Sara walked over to him, close enough to feel his heat, close enough to smell the undetectable vodka scent. It was sharp, like frozen air, or ice. Not really anything, but different from Lincoln’s normal citrus scent. It didn’t belong on him.
“About your feelings for me…” Sara trailed off, not knowing how to continue.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he said softly, halting her from taking another step or speaking another word. “I was an idiot to say anything. I was an idiot to think it would matter. I was an idiot to think it would change anything, make any difference. I was an idiot to think maybe you had the same feelings for me I have for you. It was wrong of me. Cole is my brother. I never should have—anyway…forget it. Pretend I never said it, any of it.”
Sara tried to breathe, but it was stolen from her with the weight of his words. Pain pierced her heart, welled inside it, and broke it. “What?” she dumbly asked.
Lincoln turned his head away and she could see his jaw clench and unclench. “I don’t know why I thought anything I said would matter. You’re still in love with my brother. Maybe you always will be. Maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be. I’m going to leave you alone now, Sara.” He looked at her then and Sara’s stomach dipped from the force of his gaze no darkness could hide. “My first mistake was thinking I could pretend I didn’t feel the way I do about you, my second mistake was thinking things could go back to the way they were after I told you how I feel, but…they can’t. I see you and I’m just, I’m so angry and I hurt and…”
Lincoln ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in spots. Her fingers itched to smooth it down. “Or maybe my first mistake was letting myself fall in love with you. Not that I had any choice, not really.” Lincoln exhaled loudly. “Forget about me. Forget what I said. I don’t think you can move on with me bothering you, which is what you need to do. So I won’t. I’ll stay away.” His throat worked and he said in a voice that sounded like gravel, “You should go.”
She didn’t want to go. Sara wanted to enfold Lincoln in her arms and make his sorrow go away, but what he wanted, what he was asking for; she couldn’t give it to him. Not now. Maybe not ever. So she left, leaving a piece of her behind with Lincoln. The more time she spent with him, the more he took of her. Pretty soon there would be nothing left of Sara; it would all be with Lincoln. That thought scared her, hurried her feet as she made her way to the car. He scared her.
15
Sara put the car in park, and turned the key. The engine went silent. She stared at the log-sided building with apprehension. The house was a house that held memories and pain and love. It held Lincoln too. Her pulse tripped and her heart raced, making Sara dizzy from them overworking.
It had been two weeks and one day since she’d last seen Lincoln, and every day she’d picked up the phone to call him and instead had hung it back up. Sara was a mess. Her thoughts, her feelings…she didn’t even know if what she felt was real. That was what bothered her the most. What if he was the replacement brother? What if none of it was real and one day Sara would realize it? She’d end up hurting Lincoln and that thought killed her. It literally made her chest ache. Sara didn’t even know what she felt for Lincoln. It was all jumbled together and indiscernible. She only knew she thought of him every day and there was hollowness inside her the sight of him could fill.
Sara quietly knocked on the door. His truck was parked in the driveway so she knew Lincoln was home. She waited and when he didn’t answer, she let herself in. The scent of coffee lingered. It was silent in the house and no lights were on, casting grayness to everything in the house. Her stomach kept turning over. She didn’t know if Lincoln would be happy to see her or not; probably not, but it had been too long. Sara needed to see him.
The straggly Christmas tree caught her eye. There was a twinge in her chest at the sight of it with the ornaments and white lights she and Lincoln had put on it. She couldn’t believe Lincoln had left it up so long or that it was still alive. Her stride was awkward, hesitant, as she made her way up the stairs. To the right was Lincoln’s bedroom. The door was open. Her insides jumbled at the sight of him. Longing hit her and Sara briefly closed her eyes against it.