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Lincoln breathed deep the scent of cinnamon and coconut. He smoothed the back of his fingers along Kali’s arm then squeezed her closer. She lifted her head and smiled.
He never thought he’d have this feeling again.
That night, sitting in the hospital room, watching Joseph’s eyes meet Lucy’s, realizing the child she’d just lost was Joseph’s, not his, realizing two of the people he loved most had betrayed him, he’d broken.
He wasn’t broken anymore.
Lincoln tilted his head and Kali raised her lips to meet his so intuitively he couldn’t even be sure he’d been the one to initiate the motion. The kiss was soft, intimate, but he wanted more; to lift her from the couch and set her down in his bed, to peel away her clothing piece by piece.
He’d agreed they’d take it slowly. That meant moments like this, her wrapped in his arms as they lounged on the couch with fingers interlaced, intoxicating kisses that left him yearning.
Slow.
He let her be the one to inch them along. Their lips parted and he cupped her chin. “How are you feeling?”
She shrugged and pulled away, her body going rigid. “It is what it is, right? The verdict’s already been made. The radiation worked or it didn’t. I’m getting better or I’m not. Today won’t change anything.”
“You’ll know.”
Kali bit her lip and a pang of desire shot through Lincoln.
“Maybe I’ll know. Maybe there’ll just be more uncertainty. More waiting.” She rested her head against his chest and threaded her fingers through his.
Lincoln stared at their hands. “I bet the swelling’s gone down.”
Silence.
“You said your vision seems a bit better, right?”
More silence.
“Kali?”
“I said it didn’t seem to be getting worse.” She pulled her hand away and withdrew from him. Two steps forward. One step back ... at least it was progress.
Kali settled against the couch and angled toward him. “This appointment is about checking to see that things haven’t gotten worse, not to see if they’ve gotten better. Good news would be good. Of course. But I have to be realistic. And the reality is there’s a very good chance I’m not getting any sight back.” She hit her fist into her palm, a look of determination covering her face. “But Alika is helping me research ways I could possibly go back to my old job, even as things are. And if that doesn’t work out there’s training and other opportunities.” Kali counted off the options on her fingers. “Counselling. Teacher’s assistant. Workshops. This could be a whole new future.”
“I know.” Lincoln pushed out a smile. “Just hoping.”
“I know you are. And thank you.” Kali settled back against him.
He was hoping: that Kali would get better, that the tumour would go away, that her vision would come back. But he was also scared. Kali was here, in his arms and in his apartment because she needed him. Because she had no better option. And whether these next appointments brought good news or whether she learned to make her life work with the bad, soon, she wasn’t going to need him so much anymore ... maybe not at all.
Which, again, should be good. Was good. If she stayed even when she didn’t need to, it would mean this thing they were growing was real. But if she left the apartment? Made it on her own? She might go back to wanting the distance she’d wanted the first time she moved out. She may require him to schedule weekly visits if he wanted to see Theo. Would she even be okay with that? Would she want him at all?
Lincoln took a deep breath, willing his thoughts to disperse. Kali wasn’t Ginny. Kali wasn’t Lucy. But she had similar tendencies. She shut him out. She was independent. Her love ... no, not even love ... her affection didn’t come easy. And he’d opened up to her, too much, maybe. If his heart broke a third time, he wasn’t sure it could ever be put back together.
Kali leaned forward and rested her hand on Lincoln’s cheek as she kissed him. The act was sensual but far too short. She pushed up from the couch and smiled, such a contented smile. “I better go check on Theo and Marvin. Make sure he’s not scamming his Grampie into story after story.” She shook her head. “Marvin, here. Indoors. For three weeks now.” She laughed. “And not going crazy.”
Lincoln swallowed. “He’s had his moments.”
Kali tilted her head side to side. “But he’s here.”
“Yeah.”
“The counselling must be helping. But I think it’s more than that. I think he wanted this, somewhere deep inside. I think it’s Theo too—giving him a second chance; showing him he has love to give, that he’s still valuable.”
Had Lincoln ever seen a smile like the one she was wearing now? Certainly not in those first couple of weeks. The night of the firecrackers, maybe ... both nights of the firecrackers—the first on Canada Day when she’d tried to teach him how to dance and he’d misread the signals, the second on his birthday, when they’d transitioned to the start of something more. He’d thought by now ...
Her smile faltered. “What is it?”
Lincoln clasped his hands. “What’s what?”
Her brow rose. “Your face.” Kali sank back onto the couch. “Is it getting too much? I never thought ... well, I never thought. Marvin needed somewhere to stay. To heal.”
“No. It’s not—”
“Tonight’s the last night you’re here.” She shook her head and patted the couch. “Tomorrow I’ll change the sheets. You get your room back. Theo will climb in with me and Marvin will—”
“Kali.”
“Marvin will squeeze into Theo’s bed. Or we’ll find a mat. He may prefer that anyway.” She paused a moment. “This won’t work long term though. I can already feel him getting antsy. Some of that may simply come from being under a roof day in and day out, but I’ll find us a better situation.”
Lincoln took a deep breath.
“Once things are figured out, with the job or finding a new one ... I’m already saving as much of my EI as I can, and when disability—”
Lincoln grasped her hips and pulled him toward her. “That’s what’s bothering me.” He let out a faint smile. “It’s cramped, yeah, but I’m not looking forward to you leaving.”
She stared at him. “I’m not saying I want to leave.”
“But you want your life back. Your independence.”
“Of course.”
He could almost see her choosing her words. Lincoln’s stomach twisted.
“You’re basically supporting me. And my kid. And Marvin. Your life revolves around ours. That’s not right.”
Lincoln shrugged. “It feels all right.”
“For now. For you.”
“But not for you?”
Kali shook her head. “Not forever.”
“So you get your job back, or a new one, or support comes in, and you leave?”
“I don’t know.”
Keep quiet. Don’t push her. Don’t. “And if you leave, what then? Are we still?” He gestured a hand between them.
Kali’s eyes clouded over. Fear? Frustration? Why didn’t he keep his mouth shut? This was pushing. This wasn’t taking it slow.
“I don’t know. Day by day, right?” Kali stood again. She stepped from the couch, then hesitated. “I really should check on them. It’s getting late.”
Kali lingered a moment more. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it once more, then shook her head and hurried down the hall.
Lincoln stood and crossed to the window. Was it weak, asking her those questions, pushing her? Or was it what anyone would want to know?
He thought of his life in the months before he’d met her. Empty. Listless. He was a different person now. He was happy. His life had purpose. If she left, would all that disappear?
No. It wasn’t just her. He knew that. Not just Theo, either. He’d worked to get where he was today. To actually feel happy. To not want to hide away from life. She and Theo had been the catalyst, but he’d done his own work too. It felt good, of course—being needed, relied on, cared for. Loved. If not by Kali, not yet, Theo loved him. Of that he was certain.
And if Kali and Theo moved on with their lives, if Kali’s stated effort to ‘give it a try,’ fizzled away to nothing, it didn’t mean Lincoln had to go back to the life he’d been living before. It didn’t mean he’d automatically retreat to the woods. But would he want to?
Lincoln gave his arms and head a shake. He needed to stop thinking so much, a habit he’d developed in the months after Lucy—hiding in this apartment, ready to give up on life.
He crossed to the door and yanked on his boots. A thick blanket of fog covered the city; the perfect atmosphere to step into the night, breathe deep the cool air, and let all thought drift away.