“Can you help me by driving me to the rental place to drop off this car and get mine back?” I ask casually.
“Why is your car always in the shop? Why is it at the rental place?” he asks.
“Because I prefer having a rental car since I have the money for it, and the mechanic shop is literally right next door to the rental.”
He looks… reluctant. Like even that is too much to ask.
“Where do you have to be?” I press.
“I’m tired and I don’t really want to be driving too long,” he says.
“It’s not going to be long,” I counter. “And I actually need help with the groceries and stuff. You used to help me with that.”
“I’ll help you with dropping you off at the rental place but I can’t go grocery shopping with you,” Lincoln says.
My heart plummets to my damn toes. He’s being weird as fuck.
Cold.
Distant and…
I dunno. Polite.
Almost stranger-like.
He’sclearlyfucking his ex-wife. And it bothers me because he’s acting like he and I barely know each other now.
I hate that woman with a passion.
“You said that I could always ask you for help and that you would always be there and now you’re just flaking on me when I literally asked you for help. What happened to depending on each other?
“When you needed me to help you out or help care for you when you were sick and bring you food and also make sure that it was healthy food and when I got your medicine, when I bathed you, when I sucked you off, all of that was convenient for you. But now when I ask you for help it’s a big deal? All of that talk justfor you to dump me like garbage. Guess you’re not a man of your word after all.”
I roll my eyes and start to get into the car.
Just like clockwork, he stops me, leaning on my door, looking sincerely at me.
“I’m sorry, Sarah. Look, I’ll help you with the groceries after we get the rental, okay? Iamlegitimately tired though, so I really don’t want to be on the road driving when I’m like this.”
“I know that, but we’ve napped in the car and stuff too.”
“I just want to go home. I’m kind of burned out to be honest.”
“Yeah because you chose not to have sex with me. Remember how good that made you feel?”
He doesn’t answer. Just smiles at me faintly and gets into his car. That little smile irritates me more than silence.
We get to the rental place, I pick up my car, and then we head to the supermarket. He follows behind me.
We park side by side. Lincoln steps out and stretches.
God, I love when he stretches like that. The way his shirt rides up, the way his muscles flex… his bulge right there. It’s crazy how much I miss him. He’s slipping through my fingers, and I thought it was just a temporary thing, a phase, but clearly with thatbitchliving with him, he feels like he has sex on tap.
But I still have a bit of hope. Because if he was getting all the sex he wanted, he wouldn’t be walking into work looking so tortured. So maybe, not definitely, butmaybethere’s still hope.
Walking into the supermarket, I link my arm with his. Warm and comfortable at his side, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And people notice us. Older couples smile at us, admiring how good we look together.
We move through the store like we always used to. He pushes the cart, and I sit inside it after taking off my jacket, leaning back while he rolls me down the aisles. For a second it’s easy, comfortable, like nothing’s changed between us.
