Chapter Thirty-one
Lincoln
HEARTBEAT
Performed by The Fray
It took longer than I wantedfor Katerina to respond to me, giving me a bitter taste of my own medicine, knowing this was exactly how my family felt when waiting for me to get back to them. I killed the time by pulling from the internet as many images as I could find of the mural at The Tea Spot. I enlarged them, printed them out so all the details were easy to see, and gathered the supplies I needed.
When my phone rang, I picked it up expecting it to be Katerina, but it was the contractor who’d remodeled my house and was handling the renovation at the gallery. He reminded me he was coming the next day to get started, and I swore to myself silently. It meant I’d need to box up my projects and move them from the studio upstairs to the house.
But it would have to wait as I was anxious to get back to Willow. The sun was already warming the streets with a midday glow, proving I’d already been away from her for hours. Soinstead of packing, I grabbed the single box of supplies I’d put together for the mural and headed out the door.
I’d barely stepped outside, and the two hulking men in the black garb more reminiscent of special forces than the Secret Service had just flanked me, when my phone buzzed again.
“Lyrica, I’m a little tied up. Can it wait?”
“She looks like Sienna.”
I barely resisted the urge to toss my phone. My tone was sharp and brutal when I replied. “She does. But I’ll say the same thing I’ve said to my mom and anyone else who brings it up, I’m not with her because of how she looks or doesn’t look. Willow and I have already discussed it, and we’re okay. I won’t let anyone upset her by bringing it up, are we clear?”
She didn’t speak for several seconds, and I paced outside the gallery, waiting as my irritation grew and my need to get back to Willow surged.
Finally, she said, “It’s just… I know you, Lincoln. I can hear it in your voice. The protectiveness you feel. You have this overwhelming need to shield everyone in your life. It’s how Felicity got her claws into you. Now this woman shows up, looking like the lost love of your life, and I can’t help but worry for my friend.”
If she knew just how much more was going on than the photos, she’d worry more. But telling Mom about Willow’s witness protection and the notes was one thing because my parents’ resources might be able to help. Telling Lyrica would only make her increase her worries.
I inhaled deeply, letting some of the irritation fade. “I’m good, Lyrica. Honestly. I’m actually letting things go and moving on.” Even with everything that had happened this week, even with Sienna reappearing, there was still truth in those words. Ithad taken Willow showing me the light for me to see I’d been stuck, relishing in the remorse as if it was the penance I had to pay. But really it had just been a selfish way to hold myself back, keeping even my family and friends at bay. “I can see a happy life with her.”
And I could. At least I could see the beginnings of it. Slow Saturday mornings lost in each other’s skin. Laughter. A heavenly bliss that smelled and tasted like Willow. We just had to find a way to cut the strings of our pasts trying to pull us back so we could focus on the new threads weaving us together.
“You deserve to be happy, Lincoln,” she said softly. “You’ve always deserved it.”
How many times had she told me she didn’t blame me for getting shot? How many times had I agreed but not believed it?
“You deserve it too,” I told her.
“I do,” she said.
“Are you happy with Merci?”
“She’s my current chapter. I don’t know if she’s the rest of my book yet.” The day she’d broken up with me, Lyrica had told me,Our life is supposed to have different chapters with different arcs and different people in them. It gives us the experience we need to realize when we’ve found the ending we want to keep. You’re not my ending, Lincoln, but I’ll always love the chapters that had you in them.
“Willow isn’t just a chapter I’m breezing through. She’s my ending,” I told her.
She made a sound of surprise. “I’m really, really glad. When do I get to meet her?”
I snorted at the request that mirrored Mom’s, and I gave her the same “soon” response before ending the call.
I picked up the box of supplies, gave the two bodyguards a nod, and then jogged across the street, hoping to get back to The Tea Spot before anyone else interrupted me.
When I walked in, the café seemed even more packed than normal. Not quite the crowd that had been there to see Willow’s food art, but it was definitely buzzing. The air was full of a restless chatter that spoke of the drama that had occurred as much as coffee and scones.
Hector saw me, gave me a wave from behind the counter, and hollered, “Willow went home with Erica.”
I couldn’t help the beat of sheer panic that flew through me. I debated dropping the box and racing to the cottage just to ensure she was still there. Even knowing Willow didn’t want to go, that she wanted the chance for her and her mom to build a life here, I wouldn’t blame Erica, or the Marshals, for insisting they leave.
My hands gripped the box so tight, the edges bent.