Page 120 of What's Left of Us

He walks out after another head dip in Lincoln’s direction before slipping out the front door.

Finally, I take a deep breath. “Thank you.”

Lincoln turns the sign over to sayCLOSED.

“Does he come here often?”

I stop sweeping to look at him. “What?”

“Luca,” he replies as if I’m too dumb to know who he’s referring to. “Does he come in here often?”

I shake my head. “No.” He watches me with skepticism clear on his face. “No.I would have said something if he did. This is the first time.”

Lincoln’s lips press into a thin line as he studies the place. For what, I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me he doesn’t want to look at.

I lean the broom against my side and put my weight onto the handle. “Is that why you’re here? Because you wanted to make sure I wasn’t doing something I shouldn’t?”

When he doesn’t answer, anger boils under my skin. How could he think I’d want to spend time withLuca Carbone? After everything we’ve done to avoid the family, and he somehow thinks I’d want to be around him now?

“Wow,” I breathe in disbelief, going back to work. Is this who we are now? “Well, now that you know I’m not screwing anybody on the counter between customers, you can go back to work. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than check on the welfare of your slutty wife.”

His radio goes off, the static murmurings of a domestic almost ironic for the moment.

After a few minutes, I hear him sigh. “I came here to see if you wanted me to follow you home.”

“Why?” I snap, holding the broomstick so tightly it may just break. “Because you don’t trust me?”

Lincoln blinks slowly, his expression too distant to read. “Because,” he says quietly, “it’s supposed to storm, and I know you hate driving in the rain.”

I stare at him, embarrassment flooding my veins and making my cheeks heat. “Oh.”

The quiet is thick, suffocating the room.

Then he asks, “What happened to us, Peaches?”

I peek up at him through my lashes, feeling that crushing weight get heavier and heavier on my chest. “I don’t know.”

But I do.

It started with the lies.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Lincoln/ Four Years Ago

My mother hostsGeorgia’s twenty-fifth birthday party, baking her a double chocolate cake with the help of Hannah. Dad grills burgers and chicken breasts on the back deck, where I hang out with a beer and a cigar. Georgia stays indoors, and talks to the girls about God knows what.

I woke her up with a soft kiss on the cheek, breakfast in bed, and a wrapped jewelry box with a pink ribbon tied around the top containing a silver customized necklace.

I helped her put it on, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck after doing the clasp, then watched her touch it the entire way here like it grounded her.

We went our separate ways when we got inside, and I didn’t fight it. Didn’t have the energy to, if I’m being honest.

There’s a dark cloud looming over us that won’t go away. We don’t talk about it, but we both know it’s there. Always hovering, darkening our days like a storm brewing.

I don’t know the last time she let me touch her, and I don’t cross that line until we’re on better terms.

It wouldn’t feel real then.

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