"She does that toeverybody. She's… it's ajoke."
"It's not funny tome, Lincoln. If some other guy was doing that to me in front of all your work friends,youwould be embarrassed."
"Baby, there'snothingto be embarrassed about." He runs his hands through his hair. "Jesus, babe. Please don't make this a drama thing. It's not that serious."
"I'm telling you it makes me uncomfortable," I let him know.
"Then you shouldn't have come. I dunno what to tell you."
That… right there is what makes my stomach drop.
"You're right. Ishouldn'thave."
-??-
Chapter 11
Sarah's POV
I watch them from across the room, my heart lifting a little as Lincoln and his wife start arguing. God, that woman is so insecure. It’s honestly nauseating. No wonder he comes into work stressed and exhausted every day, she probably smothers him, nags him, and never lets him breathe.
When she storms out of the building, I can’t help but feel pleased. Hopefully she’ll go home alone and leave Lincoln here where things actually make sense for him… where he has people who understand him. Where he has me.
He stays near the doors, looking sad and stressed out. Perfect moment for me to step in. I walk up to him and gently take his hand to get his attention.
"Not right now," Lincoln mutters, pulling away.
"What's going on? What happened? Where's your wife going?" I ask.
"I said not right now."
His anger does something to me. God, he looks good like this. Everyone else around us keeps talking, unaware of the storm brewing between us.
"Look. You're gonna start to ruin the vibe."
"Then get away from me."
"No. Listen to me, Lincoln. We're friends, aren't we? And when something is going on with you, it affects me. So please, you can talk to me."
"Sarah, I really don't wanna talk right now."
"Okay. We don't have to talk, but come here."
I pull his hand again. He barely resists before letting me guide him toward one of the quiet rooms. The chairs are stacked on the tables, the lights dim. I step inside, close the door, and lock it. He walks away from me a few slow steps before dropping down with his back against the wall.
"Do you want a drink?" I ask.
"No."
He sounds so defeated. I love making him happy, love being the one who brightens his day, and clearly something is going very wrong in his marriage.
"Look, you don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, but I'm not leaving you alone feeling like this."
I hop up on one of the tables, then slowly slide down to sit beside him on the floor, letting my dress fall over my thighs. I look overat him, then back at the dark room. He exhales several times before finally glancing over with a tired smile.
"You don't have to be here, you know?" he murmurs.
"I wanna be here."
