"No. You don't."
He’s being so sweet to me even though he’s hurting. He has no idea how badly I want to stay right here with him. Honestly, I’d rather be in here with him than out there with anyone else.
"I know what you're doing, trying to get rid of me."
He gives a sarcastic smirk.
"What if I don't like your company?" he jokes.
"I know damn well you like my company."
"You shouldn't have to sit here stewing in my sadness. Whatever's going on with me is my problem. I don't want to pull you into it. And like you said, bad vibes, right?"
I smile softly and reach for his right hand, resting it on my knee.
"I was joking. Even when you're grumpy, your bad vibes feel like good vibes to me."
He looks away, maybe to hide a blush. Or maybe he’s just overwhelmed.
"Sarah, why aren't you out there getting to know some of the guys? You're 22 years old. You need to be living your life."
"Iamdoing it. Right here with you."
"I'm an old man dealing with old man problems."
"Dude, you're only 31 years old. Stop being dramatic. And besides, it's problemseveryonedeals with. You can talk to me about it, or you can just sit here dealing with it. Your choice."
"It's just… I don't know."
There it is. He wants to say something. He just needs a little nudge.
"Okay. Whatever you say in this room stays in this room."
"No."
"Yes, Lincoln. I can tell you're under a lot of stress, and it's not just work stuff. And if you keep it inside of you andnevertalk to anyone about it, it's gonna fester. I know your marriage is a very touchy thing, and I know it's private. I'm not asking you to tell me your private issues. I get that it's crossing a line."
He stays quiet, so I keep going.
"But if you can't talk to a therapist or you can't talk to your wife, you need one person to talk to. I'm a woman, so I'm the best candidate to explain why women act the way they do. And something tells me you and your wife aren't vibing right now. Maybe she's stressed out. Maybeyou'restressed out. And there's some kind of misunderstanding going on. And I just hope I didn't play a part in that."
"No. Of course not," he replies way too fast. Which tells me exactly the opposite.
"Does your wife hate me or something?"
He hesitates. "I don't think shehatesyou. She's just… I think she just misses me."
"Then why wasn't she with you for the party?"
"She claimed that she kept on trying, but I—"
"Let me guess. I was in the way?" I ask, annoyed.
"She doesn't mean anything by it. I mean, if you had a boyfriend and you were with him for a long time and he started spending a lot of time with someone else, I'm guessing it would make you upset too. Right?"
"I wouldtryto be understanding to my boyfriend, yeah. But I guess I’d feel a little jealous. But not to the degree where, when I'm with him, I start giving him shit. That's something you need to nip in the bud or you're both gonna end up very miserable."
"We're not miserable."
