“Lincoln hired me.He’smy boss. So only he can tell me whether or not I should leave. Do you want me to leave, Lincoln?” I smile at him.
“No. But like I said about boundaries, if you’re going to work here I expect both of us to adhere to those.”
“I will adhere to the boundaries as well asyoudid with your co-workers. All of them,” I say, smiling with a closed mouth as dramatically as I can muster, looking between him and Sarah.
There's quiet for a while.
“Are you not coming into work?” Lincoln then asks Sarah quietly.
“Yeah of course, but I thought we were going to go together.”
“You look really nice,” Lincoln smiles at Sarah, and the exchange between the two makes my heart sink to my feet all over again. How could he stand there doing all of that in front of me knowing how it would make me feel? Lincoln is acting as though he never loved me. He’s speaking to Sarah with a tenderness I find hard to even remember him showing me.
Stinging, I head to the bathroom and lock myself inside. After about two minutes of staring at myself in the mirror trying to collect myself, I hear a knock.
“Just a minute,” I say, breathing, trying to maintain control. Then I open the door to see Lincoln standing there.
“I want to show you the rest of the house. Where things go, all of that,” he says almost shyly.
“Pretty sure I can figure it out, Lincoln.”
“I know, but I’d like to make it easier for you to adjust.”
I’m too tired to fight right now, so I blink slowly and hold out my hand to indicate for him to lead the way, which he does.
He leads me through the single-story house. It’s pretty big, and I would have loved to live in something like this. It’s very cozy, very quiet. After he’s done, he stops in the bedroom.
I have no idea where Sarah is, but judging from the sound of clinking in the kitchen, she’s obviously still here in the house. All of a sudden I feel like shit, wondering why I even took this job.
Oh, that’s right.Money.
Well, I guess I’m following in my mom’s footsteps, torturing myself all for the sake of money and trying to survive. Could I make money doing something else and making less of it? Yes. But it’s a struggle, especially with my dad’s bills. That part of my mind reminds me that if I was still with Lincoln, especially with him getting a bump in his pay, getting more popular, and obviously this being the promotion he needed, things would be easier… but even still, I don’t know exactly how much money he’s making. He’s living in a nice house, has a nice car, so he’s doing well for himself financially.
He was already doing well for himself when we were together. I wonder how it would come off if I asked him those questions. We could always talk about finances together, but now that I’m no longer married to him, what if he takes it the wrong way and thinks I’m trying to get money out of him or something?
“Do you have any questions?” he asks, getting his dress shirt.
“Why are you wearing green?” is the only thing I can come up with to ask, because it’s all my eyes can focus on.
“Why? You don’t like it?”
“No… I mean I guess it’s okay. It’s just that… you never wear green.”
Lincoln gives me a soft smile. “Sarah says she likes it.”
Of course.
I say nothing at first.
“Doyoulike it?” I question, a bit quieter.
“... I don’t know,” he whispers back.
The quietness that falls over us is uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time.
Two people who were once best friends and each other’s world now seemingly enemies… but both aware there is always something more between us. But even still, I can’t convince myself in any world or the next that Lincoln loved me. Because if you truly loved someone, of course you would have the self-control to not do something you know would hurt them. Like my mom, Lincoln should have rather sacrificed himself to protect me and to protect the sanctity of our marriage.
But he didn’t do that.
