Page 92 of What's Left of Us

He’s barely said anything about work all week, which isn’t normal. I always hear about the traffic stops he makes or the search warrants he helps execute. If there’s an arrest, I know the details. Same with any interactions with coworkers. I know Matt is planning on proposing to Marissa and that their other coworker Richie was caught sleeping with a dispatcher in a sergeant’s office and is probably being suspended without pay for a few days. But over the last week, something changed.

“Are you sure? Because we have time.”

Finishing off his beer, he tosses it into the trash bag hanging off the fence post and turns back to the grill. “I already said I don’t want to talk right now. Okay?”

He doesn’t want to talk to me or doesn’t want to talk to anybody? In defeat, I murmur, “You never want to talk.”

When he comes home, he’ll evade my questions when I ask how his day is by asking about mine instead. Then he’ll kiss me to distract me from asking again. And the kisses turn to touching. And touching turns to…way more.

I never complain. He makes us both feel good.Mine,he called me. My finger presses against the ring to remind me of that.

I’m his.

He’s mine.

That means something.

Lincoln chuckles, but it’s a dry sound. Normally, when he laughs, his eyes light up. They’re dull now. Drained. Distant. He doesn’t look like my Lincoln. The carefree one. “We talk all the time. You’re being a little dramatic.”

His condescending tone sinks its claws into me. Setting the dishes down, I turn to him. “It’s obvious that something is wrong, so I don’t know why you’re trying to deny it. I’m only asking because I care.”

Lincoln groans, and the sound is grating. “I know you care. I’m saying I don’t want to talk about it right now because we have people coming over.”

“People you clearly don’t want here!”

“I just wanted a quiet birthday, Georgia,” he finally admits. “I never asked for this. I didn’t want to entertain the people I see all goddamn week. Happy now?”

His tone is uncharacteristically cold, making me stare at the ground when his slitted eyes on me become too much. “I…” The words get stuck in my throat, so I don’t force them. Shaking myhead, I walk away from him. What’s the point of having a one-sided conversation.

Seconds after the door closes, it reopens, and Lincoln’s footsteps follow the path I take to his parents’ guest bathroom. “Georgia—”

I close and lock myself in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the bathtub and fighting off the urge to cry. My eyes go down to the piece of gold on my finger that suddenly feels too heavy.

Knuckles knock against the door. “Georgia,” Lincoln says quietly. “Can you open up?”

For a second, I think about not replying at all. Isn’t that what he wants? Quiet? But I decide not to be petty. “I think it’s better if I stay in here for a little while and cool off. Like you said, you don’t want to talk right now. People are going to show up soon anyway.”

Despite that, I see the doorknob wiggle before hearing the lock click open. I gape as he pulls the door open, unashamed at picking the lock and walking in. “I’m an asshole.”

I don’t disagree with him.

“You did this for me.”

Another truth.

He walks in and squats down so we’re eye level, tilting my chin up so I’m forced to meet his eyes. I want to look away, but he won’t let me. “I have had a shitty week at work, and you don’t deserve me taking it out on you. There was another complaint made against me that’s being investigated. If I get another one, I’ll have to face internal affairs. It’s not a great position to be in. Especially since I’ve been working on my portfolio to apply for BCI. The investigators aren’t going to want to take me on as a detective if they think I’m trouble.”

Another complaint? “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s bullshit.” His lips twitch as he lowers his hand from my face. “Someone claims they saw me hitting a car at a gasstation and driving away. They gave a generic description of the trooper that matches me and gave my car’s number. Thing was, Iwasat the gas station filling up before the end of my shift. But I was there thirty minutes before the woman said I was. And I sure as hell didn’t hit a car.”

“Why would anybody say that?”

He doesn’t answer, but something flashes in his eyes. “The girl that called my sergeant is a user. We’ve picked her up before for possession and arrested her boyfriend on numerous accounts of assault and distribution. That’s how she said she was sure it was me. And the gas station’s security system just so happened to be down for maintenance at the time this happened.”

“Wouldn’t your car have damage if you hit something?”

“I’m not worried about getting into trouble. I did nothing wrong. It’s not…” His fingers rake through his hair. “I just don’t need the extra pressure right now when I’m trying to make connections with the investigative team.”

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