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“Hi.”
“Hi.” Kali’s smile wavered. She bit her lip and seemed to tremble.
Lincoln swivelled so he was facing her full on. His gut twisted with uncertainty. “How’d you find me?”
Her shoulders rose and fell. “It took some searching. Some calling around. And then it came to me.” She smiled again and let out a nervous laugh. “May I sit?”
“Yes. Sure. Of course.” Lincoln pulled out the computer chair next to him.
“Okay.” Kali swallowed and sat. “How have you been?”
Lincoln ran a hand through his hair, noting the way Kali looked in the direction of several of the library’s patrons. “Kali, what is—?”
She brought her gaze back to him. “How’s the business?”
Lincoln sighed. “Good, actually. Coming along. I have a marketing manager and am heading to Montreal next—” Lincoln stopped. “Kali, what are you doing here?”
She gestured to the door. “Can we go outside? More privacy, you know?”
“Yeah, okay.” Lincoln crossed in front of her then held open the door as she passed under his arm. Cinnamon and coconut. He breathed her in, only now realizing how much he’d missed this scent. Kali sat on a step leading to the library’s small lawn and tucked her feet underneath her. Lincoln hesitated then sat several feet away.
Kali folded her hands in her lap and looked down at them. “I’ve been thinking a lot these past weeks, about life. About the stories we tell ourselves.”
Lincoln took a breath, his brow furrowing. “Stories?”
“Your mom phrased it like that, actually. I went to visit her a while back.”
“Okay.” Lincoln shifted, one part of him needing to tell her to leave, the other part frantically memorizing every feature in case she did.
“A lot of the stories I was telling myself, they were of anger, weakness, being a victim, being a martyr. Almost none of them, though, were what I want my story to be.”
Lincoln pushed out a breath. She was here. Why, he wasn’t sure. But she was here. She’d searched for him.
“I just came from Derek’s.”
Lincoln’s hands clenched onto his knees. Here to tell him she had made her choice? To thank him, maybe, for stepping back?
“I love him.” Kali looked to her hands and nodded. “I forgive him, as much I’m able. Which,” she looked up, head tilted, “I think is enough.”
Lincoln clenched and unclenched his hands, the knuckles whitening then filling back with colour. “Enough?”
“To make it work. To start a new life, be a family in the way he wants.”
So this was it, the final goodbye. Lincoln’s hands relaxed.
“But there’s just one problem. That’s what he wants. And it doesn’t make sense, me making massive life decisions based on what other people want or other people think is best for me.” She smiled—scared, hopeful, uncertain.
Lincoln’s throat convulsed, his breath held.
“I love Derek.” She paused, her smile growing. “And we could make it work. But I don’t want it to just work because that’s the simpler choice, the more logical choice. I want more than that. I want you.” She paused again. “I’m in love with you.”
Lincoln kept silent, not believing the words.
“That sounds so crazy, doesn’t it?” Kali let out a short laugh.
Lincoln shook his head, swallowing.
“That I love him, but it’s not enough. It doesn’t matter. My husband. My son’s father.” Kali looked to the lawn. “Derek seemed to think it was crazy when I told him. He thought I was just afraid to give us another shot.” Her gaze locked on Lincoln. “But I’m not. It’s not about fear.” Another soft laugh. “For once.”
Kali shifted closer. “I’ve let fear make so many decisions, let it write my story ... fear of being alone, of being the statistic of a single mom, of being rejected, of the tumour, the blindness, you. I let you push me away, the way I’d been pushing you away, because I was too scared to take any action.” She rubbed her hands together and turned her gaze to the bus that groaned to a stop up the street. Several people walked off and made their way past them to the library doors. She turned back. “I told him I’m filing for divorce.”
Lincoln inhaled.
“I already contacted a lawyer.” Kali picked up a fallen leaf from the lawn and twirled it in her fingers. “He’s Theo’s father. Theo’s blood. Not mine. Those promises we made, we can honour them in other ways, by working through ... all we have to work through, by being friends and giving Theo both his parents in the best way we’re able.
“I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner. That I let that fester between us—the lie about Derek’s existence, the lie that I was a single, available woman when in so many ways I wasn’t.” Kali blew out a strong gust of air and bit her lip. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him. I was scared. But I’m not anymore. Well, not as much.” She laughed self-consciously, a hand to her neck. Her gaze zeroed in on Lincoln. “I’ve been so indecisive. But I want you to know this isn’t a test or an exploration, me saying I choose you. It’s an intention. I want to see this work. I am committed to making us work.”
Kali lowered her gaze then brought it back up to Lincoln. “In love. I never thought I’d say that about someone again. Maybe that was childish. Maybe it was naive.” Her laugh was louder this time, with a lightness the others lacked. The sound seemed to kick start Lincoln’s heart. It raced. She smiled, and the words began to sink in. “I choose you.” The softest smile. “It’s not too late, is it?”
Lincoln’s heart thumped so hard he was hardly sure he’d heard her. “Too late?”
“You can say no if you want. I’m not going back to Derek, either way. You won’t be the reason Theo’s parents aren’t together. I’m the reason. It’s my choice.” Kali rubbed a hand along her thigh. “He’s Theo’s dad, and I couldn’t be happier that he wants to be in his son’s life.” She shrugged one shoulder. “Theo couldn’t be happier.” She paused. “He loves you more, but Derek’s his dad. The love will grow. So, we’ll work something out. Some kind of joint custody or visitation rights. I don’t know yet. We didn’t figure all of that out.”
Kali bit her lip. She let her shoulders rise and fall in the way that made Lincoln’s breath stop. “You haven’t moved on, have you?”
“Moved on?” Lincoln stared, incredulous.
“Yeah. You gonna choose me too, or what?”
Lincoln laughed. The type of deep belly laugh he hadn’t had in weeks. His hands tingled as he placed them along the outside of her thighs, drawing her closer. “Are you sure?”
She bit her lip, her uncertainty vanishing into a grin. “I’m sure.”
Lincoln nodded, pulling her closer still and leaning in so their foreheads touched. “Yeah,” he whispered, inhaling the scent of her, imprinting this moment in his mind—the crisp breeze, the goosebumps that travelled over his body, the strength of her thighs underneath her soft leggings. “I’m sure too.”
“Really?”
Lincoln blinked to clear his vision. “Oh yeah.” He pressed his lips together then breathed deeper the scent of her. “I’m still a little broken though, still figuring it all out. You know that, right?”
Kali put a hand to his cheek, her smile reaching her eyes. “Me too.”
Lincoln mimicked her movement, raising a hand from her thigh to her face. “So, what’s next?”
Kali bit her lip again, grinning. “I think a kiss would be appropriate. And then,” she gave a little shrug, “we figure it out. Together.”
And yet we hold on.
We hold onto it all, as if by doing so we hold onto our selves.
We tell ourselves a story: We matter. This matters.
What beauty.