“You were supposed to be off today.”
“I’mawareof that, Sarah,” Lincoln says, a little bit more snippy.
“Okay. Whatever. You’re not fucking her, are you?” I ask with a mischievous smile.
The thing is, I don’t feel mischievous. I feel annoyed.
“No I’m not. I promise you that ship is sailed.”
“You might feel differently if she’s living in your house with you.”
“She’s just watching my cat. But I legitimately am really tired. I just want to sleep in my own bed.”
“Want me to come with?” I ask, winking.
I can see his face burn for a slight minute, but the exhaustion overshadows it. He’s telling the truth. He really is tired.
“All right, fine. We’ll hang out tomorrow,” I say with a smile, hugging him. He holds me close, and I love feeling him like this. His body is so hard but yet comforting at the same time.
I bid him farewell and head up to my apartment, a pit forming in the bottom of my stomach. To me, it feels like he’s making an excuse to go back home. I’m not stupid.
He and Gabrielle have a lot of history, and when I was there and saw how he stared at Gabrielle, there’s no doubt whatsoever in my mind that he’s still very much in love with her.
And that’s fine. But they can never get back together.
-??-
Chapter 40
Gabrielle's POV
There’s a click as Lincoln makes his way through the door, carrying a wave of tiredness over his presence.
The couch is so comfortable that I don’t want to get up. The TV is on. I finally decided to use it.
Me and Morris decided to watch some cat videos.
Lincoln stumbles his way to the bathroom after a greeting. Morris remains on my lap.
I smile, and then there’s a noise that catches me off guard. I find that I have to open my eyes to try and locate where it’s coming from. The living room is coated in darkness, and my mind is a mess of confusion.
Looking at the digital clock on the wall, it says 2:00 a.m.
Oh my God. Did I fall asleep?
When I look to my left at the main big sofa, there’s Lincoln.
While he’s sitting on the couch and I thought he was watching the muted TV, his head is back, mouth open, as he snores lightly.
He’s fast asleep.
I stand up, but before my hand touches him as I reach out, I stare at his sleeping face. My heart pricks at me as memories of us dancing in our old apartment before we moved to our house assault me.
We were so in love.
I remember one particular night, him coming in happy for my birthday, him singing “I Can’t Help Falling in Love With You” by Elvis as he played it from his phone. Holding me, rocking with me, dancing with me as he fed me some bits of the small cake he brought home for me, smiling lovingly as he sang to me, looking into my eyes…
It was so intimate. After he fed me that spoon of cake, he kissed me, sharing a little bit of the taste after I swallowed it. He didn’t have to evensingthat song, because I could tell just from the way he was looking in my eyes and holding me that I was the only one in the world for him. And I was his person then and forever. That he saw nobody else.
