"Yeah. It’s good that you came so you could see some of the madness that we do around here," she says brightly.
"Little more lighthearted though," Lincoln adds.
"A lot more lighthearted," Sarah agrees, then looks at him. "But you're looking like you've rested more."
"Yeah. I have," he answers, smiling at her.
Almosttoofondly for my liking.
"How many cups of coffee did you drink today?" she asks.
"Only one per the doctor’s orders," he replies.
"Well, this doctor wants what's best for you. I'm sure Gabrielle would agree."
I just smile, pretending I'm okay with this back-and-forth, even though watching them makes me want to hurl.
"I told you I wouldn't drink more than two cups," Lincoln reminds her.
"Well, you do get very irritable when you get dependent on it," she says. "So one cup is enough, and you need to mind your blood pressure."
"I know. Stop nagging. Jesus," he mutters.
"I'm the one who has to work with you most of the time, so I have to deal with it, and then you freaking crash. But see what happens when you follow my directions? You end up feeling a lot better, don't you?"
"Yeah."
"Uh huuuuh. Yeah. Exactly. Or you wouldn't be able to make it to this party."
I don’t know why it’s so hard for my husband to remember that I’m standingrightfucking next to him.
-??-
Chapter 10
If I wasn’t insecure about this before, I definitely am now. I don’t wanna be that wife that’s insecure because my husband has a work friend who just happens to be female. But let’s be honest, most of the reason why we end up being insecure is because there’s usually a reason for it. We know what can happen. And seeing both of them together, maybe nothing is wrong with their relationship, but it makes me feel uncomfortable.
The way Sarah keeps leaving me out of the conversation specifically to only address my husband, knowing that I’m a guest athisparty, makes me feel really uneasy. I wonder if her husband is here or her boyfriend. I wonder if I can start chattingthemup howshe’dfeel about it.
Then I look around and finally cut in after she and Lincoln have been talking for about fifteen minutes straight, animatedly, about God knows the hell what.
"So, Sarah, did you come with anyone?" I ask.
It’s almost as though Sarah completely forgot I was standing there. She puts on that fake smile.
"No. Just mostly coworkers," she answers.
"Are you married? Boyfriend or anything?" I ask.
Sarah just stares at me, and both of us hold that strange look between us.
"No," she says, and for a second that little polite facade drops, almost like she’s offended I even asked.
"Oh, okay. You're very beautiful, so I figured you'd have someone," I tell her.
"Not every woman needs to be on a man's arm. I'm very independent," she replies.
"Well, just because you're independent doesn't mean you can't have a man. I have one and I'm independent," I counter.
