by Jenni Wilder
Lincoln hollered at me and patted the window with his open palm. “Jillian! Please come back inside, baby. We can talk about this. Don’t do this to me.” He pleaded with me, but I turned my face away from him as the tears flowed down my cheeks.
Rebecca slowly pulled the car away from Lincoln. He jogged next to it for a short while, still shouting at me through the window. The car rounded the yard and sped off down the driveway, leaving Lincoln standing in the snow.
Never again would I allow myself to be fooled by a gorgeous smile and pretty words. I felt like such an idiot. Lincoln was probably inside his house laughing with Deacon about how he seduced the ugly, burned virgin into trusting him. Or worse, he could be on the phone with Mackenzie right now telling her how he fooled me into believing he loved me.
I hated myself as a sob racked through me, betraying my feelings. This man did not deserve my tears. I inhaled deeply as I tried to collect myself and steel my emotions. Never again.
Chapter Twenty-one
“I wish you’d turn your phone back on,” Emily said as she held out her own phone to me.
“Who is it?” I asked quietly from Emily’s couch where I had taken up residence for the past week. I was snuggling with my sister's fat orange cat named Morris. He was the only creature I allowed to comfort me.
Emily thrust the phone at me. “It's Rebecca!” she said, clearly annoyed.
I sat up from the couch, shifted Morris off my lap and held the phone up to my ear. “Hello?” My voice was cold and lifeless.
“Are you coming home anytime soon?” Rebecca snipped.
“Has he stopped stalking the house?”
Rebecca had informed me that Lincoln was practically living in his vehicle outside our house for the past week. Anytime he didn’t have a game or practice, he was there. I didn’t understand why.
“No. He’s still outside. But maybe… maybe you should just come home and get this over with,” she suggested.
“There’s nothing to say. I don’t know why he’s out there.” I was irritated at Lincoln. Why couldn’t he just leave me alone? He'd had his laugh, but apparently that wasn’t enough. Now I couldn’t even go home because of him.
“I don’t get it either,” Rebecca agreed. “Maybe… maybe he’s telling the truth. He really does seem to hate Mackenzie and he’s obviously not with her now.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, not really caring. Nothing mattered anymore except the fact that I couldn’t go home.
“Well, he’s been outside our house for the past week, freezing to death, waiting for you. He obviously didn’t go running back to Mackenzie.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“I talked to Deacon, Jillian. He said Lincoln’s really tore up over this.”
I sat up straight. “What? Are you on his side now?”
“No, Jillian. I’m on your side, no matter what. I just think you’re not seeing things clearly. I wish you wouldn’t have skipped your therapy session.”
“I have to go,” I said with tears building in my eyes. I didn’t want to talk about this anymore. It felt as if my own sister didn’t support me.
“Tabitha really misses you,” Rebecca blurted out.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “That was low.”
“It’s the truth! I’m not just saying it to get you to come home.”
I relented. “Fine. I’ll be home for family dinner tomorrow.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “Lincoln has an away game, so it should be clear.”
It was Rebecca’s turn to let out an exasperated sigh and I could practically hear her rolling her eyes through the phone. “You can’t avoid him forever, Jillian.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, well, I can try,” I said with stubborn determination.
~~~~~~~~
I played cards with Tabitha after dinner. It was good to be home. Sleeping on Emily’s couch had taken its toll, and for the first time in a week I felt normal-ish. Well, as normal as I could be with this pain in my heart.
I had survived family dinner without my mother or brother asking too many questions. They hadn’t realized the depth of emotion I had for Lincoln and didn’t think much of it when I didn’t mention him to a great degree. My sisters knew differently, however. Rebecca, of course, had seen my feelings for Lincoln grow firsthand over the weeks and Emily had just witnessed my week of nesting on her couch. But they both knew better than to say anything in front of our mother or Elliot. I didn’t want anyone to know I had been fooled again. So family dinner proceeded like normal without any mention of the heartache I had just been through.
“I’m taking off now, Jilly,” Emily informed me shortly after our mother and brother left. “I have to stop and collect some things from another teacher’s house, but I shouldn’t be out too late.”
I looked down at Tabitha setting up another hand of the game we had just played. “I… I think I’m going to stay here tonight, Em.”
“Ooh good. Morris will be happy to have his couch back,” she said with a smirk, and I smiled for the first time in a week. “See ya later, then.”
“You’re staying?” Rebecca asked.
“Yeah. You don’t mind, do you?” I had the next day off from work and was watching Tabitha who had the day off from school due to a holiday. It would just be easier if I stayed here tonight.
Rebecca scoffed. “Of course not, Jillian. This is your home.”
I nodded and smiled. “Emily’s couch is so uncomfortable. I miss my bed.”
Rebecca gave me a small smile. She knew I meant I missed my home.
“You should know, Lincoln will probably be around.”
I sighed. “We’ll just have to stay inside, then.”
We played another three hands of our game before Rebecca put her foot down and demanded Tabitha go to bed. I hugged her extra tight and bid her sweet dreams before settling down on the couch and turning my phone on for the first time in a week. I groaned internally as I saw both my voice mail and text message inboxes were full. The majority was from Lincoln. I skipped over those without opening them to see what he said. There were a few from Kennedy, though, and I felt bad for the position this situation put her in.
“Hey, I just talked to Lincoln. Call me?” Kennedy had texted me last Saturday evening.
“Just wondering how you are doing. Call me if you need to talk.” She sent on Monday.
“Please call me, Jillian.” That one was three days ago.
I assumed the voice mails from Kennedy would be just as bad and guilt surged inside me. She would have been a good friend to have, but that wasn’t possible now, but that wasn’t her fault. I hit the call button and Kennedy answered on the first ring.
“Hey! Oh my God, are you okay?” Kennedy bubbled into my ear.
“I’ll be fine,” I said sadly. “I just wanted to apologize for not calling you earlier.”
“No, that’s fine. I understand.”
An awkward silence hung between us. “Um, Kennedy, listen, you’ve been really great, but…” I started to say.
“But you’re going to keep ignoring me just because you’re mad at Lincoln?”
“I’m not just mad at Lincoln. He really hurt me. I don’t ever want to see him again, and that means us being friends probably isn’t going to work.”
Kennedy was quiet for a minute. “I’m going to fucking kill my brother. What did he do?”
“He didn’t tell you?” Of course he didn’t tell his sister what an ass he had been. He wouldn’t want to tell her he was back with Mackenzie.
“No,” Kennedy replied. “He just said you two had a fight. He’s been a wreck. I assumed you two would work it out.”
I sighed. “I don’t want to talk badly about your brother to you, but it’s more than just a fight.”
“Jillian, are you sure? He’s really upset about this. He hasn’t really been home. He hasn’t been playing well. Deacon said he’s not even trying during practice; h
e just stares at his phone in the locker room. He’s probably waiting for you to call.”
I was getting annoyed now. “Well, that’s not going to happen, and the sooner he realizes it the better!” I snapped at her.
“Please tell me what happened. Maybe this is all just one big misunderstanding,” Kennedy said with a tone of optimism.
“It’s not a misunderstanding. I found…” I stopped. I didn’t want to relive that horrible moment.
“What did you find?”
“I found… something that proves he’s still involved with Mackenzie. He lied, and I was stupid enough to believe he wanted me when he was with her the whole time,” I finally admitted, my voice breaking.
I had worked this all out in my head over the past week. He lied about having Mackenzie’s picture. He had to be lying about how he got it otherwise he would have just destroyed it instead of keeping it, and there was only one reason to lie about how he got the picture. He must still be seeing her while playing me for a fool.
Kennedy was silent over the phone for a moment. “Jillian, there’s no way Lincoln is still involved with Mackenzie. It’s not possible.”
“It is possible. I know what I saw,” I said defensively.
“Okay, I don’t know what you saw, but believe me when I say Lincoln’s hatred of that woman runs deep. She used him and sold him out. There’s no way he’s willingly having any contact with her. It’s just not possible.”
Kennedy was adamant, but I remained steadfast. It was better this way.
She sighed when I didn’t respond. “Carter wanted me to tell you the injunction runs out tomorrow. If you don’t press charges against Mackenzie by the end of tomorrow, the tabloid is free to publish your picture.”
Tears squeaked out as I closed my eyes in frustration. I had forgotten about the damn injunction. “Why would they bother printing it now? We’re not together anymore,” I asked.
“They don’t know that. They just see juicy headlines.”
Fuck. This was going to be a problem. But it was my problem. Not anyone else’s. “Tell Carter not to worry about it,” I said in defeat.
“What does that mean? You’ll press charges?”
“No. It means I’m tired of fighting her. I don’t care anymore.” My body had always been broken, but now my heart was as well. I had no fight left in me. It didn't matter who saw my hideous picture anymore.
“Jillian… don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth. I don’t know why she has such a vendetta against me, but I can’t fight her anymore. She took away my chance to be normal in college. She degraded and humiliated me. Because of her I never got a chance to make friends, and now she’s taken away the only chance I ever thought I’d have to love someone.”
I broke down at that moment and sobbed into the phone. Despite what Lincoln had done, I had really loved him. Or at least I loved the side of himself he showed me. I had been happier with him than I had been in a long time. For a brief moment I had hope for a normal life with someone who knew my flaws and secrets and loved me despite them.
“I have to go,” I said into the phone when I was able to compose myself.
“Jillian… I can’t let you go like this. You’re upset. Where are you? I can bring over some cheesecake, and we can talk.”
I sniffled. “I can’t tell you. You’ll just tell Lincoln.”
Little did she know I was at home right now.
“Are you at your mother’s house?”
“I’ll be fine, Kennedy. I just need to go.” I wanted to get away from this conversation.
“Jillian, I know my brother hurt you, but I’m here for you. You don’t have to push everyone away.”
“It’s just better this way,” I insisted.
“Better for who, Jillian? I care about you too.” She sounded hurt.
“No one cares about me, other than my family.”
“Jillian! How can you say that?” she said, appalled. “I care! Lincoln cares! You just have to let us in!”
I shook my head. “I did let him in, and look what happened.”
“You’re wrong about him, Jillian. He loves you. He’s worried about you, and I am too.”
“I’m sorry you’re being hurt over this, Kennedy. I really am. But when you spend your whole life never hearing that, it’s hard to believe it when you do.”
“But that doesn’t make it any less true,” she insisted.
“How could he lie to me so easily if he cared about me at all?” This was the crux of my feelings of betrayal. I had irrefutable proof that he lied. There was no way Kennedy could talk her way around that.
“Jillian, please just talk to him. I’m sure he can explain…”
“I have to go,” I said again in a small voice and Kennedy sighed into the phone.
“Okay, Jillian. I’ll call you in a few days?”
“Yeah, okay,” I agreed but I knew there was no reason to speak to her again. I could add Kennedy’s name to the list of people Mackenzie had stolen from me.
“I’m going to worry about you until I hear from you again.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
She let out another sigh. “All right, if you say so. Bye, Jillian.”
“Bye, Ken,” I said and hung up.
I realized Rebecca was sitting next to me on the couch, looking at me with concern.
“What did she say?” my sister asked quietly.
“Same thing you’ve been saying.”
“Maybe we’re both right then,” she said with a hopeful tone.
I stared at my phone. I knew Lincoln had lied to me, but I missed him so much. And then I hated myself for missing him. “I feel so stupid.”
Rebecca sighed. “Jillian. Do you HONESTLY think he was plotting against you with Mackenzie? Honestly, would he do that?”
I sighed deeply. For as hurt as I was, I couldn't deny that I truly believed Lincoln was a good man. A man incapable of hurting anyone, much less me. “No. I don't,” I admitted.
“Then, maybe... just maybe you overreacted?”
“What was I supposed to do, Rebecca? He lied about having my picture! He lied to me!”
“I know, Jilly. And I know that's huge. But he's not back with Mackenzie. He's not plotting against you. He told you one little white lie to protect you. He's been living in his car for a week just hoping to get a chance to beg for your forgiveness. Maybe he's suffered enough?” Rebecca shifted forward and rubbed my arm.
“Why is this so hard?” I asked and buried my head in my hands.
She gave me a small smile. “It wouldn’t be worth it if it was easy.”
I couldn’t help but think about how much I missed Lincoln and all the sweet things he did for me. Mostly I missed his laughter and his smile. It made my heart hurt to think about him.
“I need to go to bed,” I finally said. I couldn’t think about this any longer.
“What are you going to do about Lincoln?”
I sighed loudly. “I have no idea.”
Chapter Twenty-two
I awoke during the night, curled in a small ball on my side with the blankets tucked under my chin. It was freezing in my bedroom. I pulled the blankets up higher and tried to ignore my screaming bladder. I didn’t want to crawl out from under my warm blankets to face the cold room, but eventually my bladder won the battle. It’s just one of those things a person cannot ignore.
I pushed the blankets off and set my bare feet on the hardwood floor, trying to ignore the chill that ran through my body. Slipping my feet into my fuzzy slippers, I tied my robe around me and walked down the hall to the bathroom.
After I was done, I checked on Tabitha and turned up the thermostat so the furnace would kick in and warm the house.
The weatherman had said there was going to be a fifty-degree temperature difference between today and yesterday. So far this year, we had had a mild winter; yesterday’s high was just below freezing. That was mild for this time of year, but a cold front was movin
g in from Canada, and temperatures were expected to be way below zero not including the wind chill. I silently thanked the heavens I didn’t have to leave the house today.
As I walked down the hall back to my bedroom, my thoughts turned to Lincoln. I wondered if he was back from his away game yet. Rebecca had said he had been basically living out of his car this past week, waiting for me to return home. Oh God! It was so cold out! I hoped he was smart enough to go home tonight. Even if he kept his vehicle heater running, it was too cold to be out all night long!
I couldn’t stop myself from peeking out the hall window as I made my way back to my bedroom. I gasped when I saw his FJ Cruiser parked against the curb across the street from my house. Oh my God! He was going to get hypothermia!
I didn’t think of how hurt I was. I didn’t think of how mad I was supposed to be. I immediately scurried downstairs as quietly as possible. Once I reached the entryway, I kicked off my slippers and slid my feet into my snow boots. I put on Rebecca’s coat over my robe and was thankful I was wearing my flannel pajamas tonight.
Scrunching up my face against the blast of cold air that rushed into the house, I opened the front door and stepped into the cold. After checking the lock to make sure I wouldn’t get locked out, I pulled the door closed behind me and stomped down the steps and across the street to Lincoln’s SUV.
I could see no movement as I peered in through the window. It was hard to see inside, but when I looked in the backseat, I could see what I assumed was Lincoln lying across the seat, wrapped in an insulated sleeping bag. He had at least tried to fight against the cold, and I was momentarily relieved before anger coursed through me.
I brought my hand up and smacked the glass as hard as I could without breaking it. The body inside the sleeping bag jerked, and when I smacked the window again, the person sat up and reached to open the door.
