So soft… this bed.
Wait a minute. That’s not the bed.
I look down at my left hand and it’s cradling the crown of my ex-husband’s head, petting his hair lazily like I always used to do.
God damn it. Now I can’t stop.
It’s already too late.
I notice his eyes are closed. He moans, a soft smile on his lips.
And then he’s snoring.
Good lord.
He’s fallen asleep. Basically on my knees. Or on my lap, sort of.
I take a big inhale.
What am I going to do now? He’s still not feeling all that well.
But I’m so glad he’s alive.
“Lincoln, you have to go to your bed,” I say softly.
He shifts a little, but doesn't bother climbing off. Instead, he pushes up quickly just to scoot down and reposition himself along the bed's full length. His head lands right in my lap now, slotted between my legs. He nuzzles in easy, like it's no big deal, wedging himself to nudge my thighs apart a bit, cheek planted square over my womb as he rolls onto his right side.
This was something we used to do too.
It’s not like he’s trying to impress me. I know that. This was just a default for us. Our bodies remember the patterns of behavior from living together and loving each other for so long. It’s almost impossible to break. We’re like a puzzle that snaps back together every time we get too close.
How could we not, especially living together like this?
Also… he kicked Sarah out.
Why didn’t he do all of that when we were married?
Why did this asshole wait untilafterhe broke my heart and lost me to start doing the things that should’ve come easy to him if he loved me that much?
I might as well sleep too. Because honestly, just like with the cat, it feels unholy to move him once he’s comfortable.
-??-
Chapter 8
Lincoln’s strength has been trickling back in odd spurts. Sarah would drop by sometimes, but he wouldn’t let her inside. Or she’d call him, or text him, and he’d murmur to her behind his door.
I only know because I’ve heard the hushed exchanges through the wood.
I’ve been taking good care of Lincoln, feeding him the foods he likes. And even though he’s supposed to eat light, he’s eating a lot more, bouncing back quicker than expected.
It’s now Monday morning. Laundry needs to be done. So I place some colored clothes in the wash.
I nearly rocket out of my skin when I turn and see Lincoln standing there, silently watching me. God only knows what I was doing, probably dancing like an idiot with my earbuds in.
“What’s up?” I ask.
Lincoln just smiles at me, licks his lips, and then says, “So, um, there’s an office party that’s going on. It’s a Christmas party. Andit’s happening tonight. And I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”
