Past
The first time I met Charlotte Covington I hated her right away. Not because she’s incredibly beautiful or ridiculously sweet, but because she has him.
A philosophy major at University of Tennessee, she is ambitious and smart. I can tell Linc likes her and it’s obvious he’s attracted to her but I still notice the way he looks at me.
It’s the only thing that is helping me get through this torturous moment.
I shouldn’t be sitting here thinking about how much I wish my hand were in his, instead of hers. Or what it would feel like to have him make love to me when my life is falling apart. These thoughts have no business taking root in my mind, but they do. They always surface with a vengeance anytime we are together.
He asked me to meet him for lunch at the Blue and White so he could introduce me to her and tell me the news that he’d been asked to open for Firelight. A trio of siblings who are blowing up the country music charts. I am so excited for him. He can’t stop smiling as he tells me about them seeing him play then asking him to join their tour.
“Sylvie, Linc tells me your family owns a brewery,” Charlotte says, reaching for her drink with her free hand because I’m pretty sure her other one is still clasped in his beneath the table. She can’t keep them to herself apparently. She’s always touching him, and it is starting to annoy me.
Jealousy is something I’m not accustomed to, except when it comes to Linc, and it shouldn’t even be present now, considering I’m supposed to be happily married.
I nod with a fake smile. “Yep.”
“That’s so neat. I went on a tour of the Budweiser Brewery once with my family while on vacation in St. Louis years ago. It was quite an experience.”
I shrug, lifting my own drink and wondering who on earth uses the word neat anymore. “It’s nowhere near that scale, but we do well enough. I just started working there actually,” I announce, putting my drink back on the table.
Linc’s sharp eyes shoot to mine as he raises a brow. “When?”
“Well, I technically don’t start for another week but I’ve been spending time there a few days a week. Dad hired me to be the event coordinator. He thinks it will bring in more income and he’s always getting requests for weddings and parties, so why not?”
“You’re gonna be really good at that,” he says, pride brimming in his tone.
“Thank you. I’m excited. Now that Caroline is in preschool, I’m anxious to work.”
“Gosh, I don’t know how you did it for that long. I could never be a stay-at-home mom. And at your age…I would go crazy.”
I blink several times but it does nothing to suppress my anger. I’m still trying to figure out if she’s intentionally being condescending, or if she’s completely clueless. I don’t think she’s ever had to make a hard decision in her entire perfect life.
“I have to pick Caroline up soon. I better go,” I say, reaching for the check before Linc’s hand covers mine. His seeking eyes are tight with confusion and concern, in a standoff that Charlotte clearly doesn’t understand or dare to question so she excuses herself to the ladies’ room.
Linc takes the check from my hand and reaches for his wallet. After laying three twenty-dollar bills on the table, he grabs his coat from the back of his chair and I do the same. Then he leads me out into the parking lot like he is about to help me escape the hell I’ve endured for the last several months.
Closing my eyes, I pull the crisp winter air into my lungs, enjoying the taste of freedom. I can breathe again. For this tiny second, with his hand clasped in mine, I feel like I can fly. And if I close my eyes tight enough, I can fly away for good.
As we come to a stop near my car, Linc turns to face me and releases my hand. The loss is a heavy one and I exhale a defeated sigh. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
God, I really want to. I want to throw myself in his arms and tell him everything. Tears prick the back of my eyes but I manage to hold them back.
I’m getting quite good at that.
“I’m fine, she just…I shouldn’t take things so personally.”
“I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it,” he says.
“She seems really neat, Linc.” The sarcasm is thick in my voice, and I feel bad after I say it but I can’t help myself.
“Stop.” He laughs, and I can’t stop my own smile despite my dark mood.
“What does Gwynn think of her?”
“She asked me if she knew what a broom was.”
I don’t even try to cover my laugh and he joins me. “She does seem a little…”
“High maintenance?” he tosses out, shoving his hands into the front of his jeans.
“Well, she’s different, that’s for sure.”
“She’s not you,” he whispers on a cold breeze but his words settle like a warm blanket over my soul.
His eyes hold mine in a silent standoff, the one we always seem to share now anytime we are near one another.
“Linc,” Charlotte calls out with a sugary voice as she takes up residence next to him, interrupting our stolen moment. He pulls his hand from his pocket to wrap an arm around her waist.
I extend my hand to her, anxious to leave. “It was nice to meet you, Charlotte.”
“You too,” she says sincerely. “Maybe you can come see us in Nashville sometime.”
Us.
How can one word be so devastating?
“That’d be great.” The words taste like sandpaper on my tongue.
After I give Linc a hug good-bye, I get inside my car as they walk to his truck parked a few rows over. I stick the key in the ignition but I don’t have the strength to turn it over. All I want to do is fall apart, along with everything else in my life.
I nearly give in when a soft knock taps the glass.
As the window rolls down, Linc pops his head in. “What’s up with you?”
Shaking my head, I hold back my tears. I have so much to tell him but now is not the time nor the place. Linc studies my face, knowingly, sensing my inner turmoil.
“Mom and Charlotte are going shopping. Wanna meet me at the tracks around noon tomorrow so we can talk?”
I nod, unable to speak for fear of losing it all together.
“Whatever it is, it’s gonna be okay,” he promises.
Slipping his hand to the back of my neck, he pulls me forward so his lips press against my forehead. They linger there and my heart begs for him to never let me go.
From the beginning, I vowed to see this through. I have a responsibility to Caroline, and keeping my family together has always been my first priority.
I’ve thought about leaving him more than once, but each time I remind myself that it will not only be me and Dean who will be affected by that decision, but Caroline will suffer most of all.
Then again, Dean and I were young. We made a mistake. Do I have to punish myself for the rest of my life? Or should I be fair to us both and end this before Caroline is old enough to understand?
Maybe if I leave now, it won’t be so hard on her.
I feel so lost.
I don’t know what to do.
These thoughts continue to roll through my head as I turn onto the dirt road leading to the tracks. Since today is Saturday, I left Caroline with my mother. Dean is at home sleeping off another all-nighter. He came walking in this morning and in order to avoid another confrontation, I didn’t say a word. But I’m at my breaking point, and I’m not sure how much more I can take.
Linc is already there waiting when I pull up. I kill the engine and take in a deep breath before I get out of my car and climb into his truck.
“Hey,” he says as I shut the door.
“Hey.”
He leans over to hug me, and I nearly fall apart right then but I manage to keep it together. “You look tired.”
I exhale a long sigh. “I’m exhausted.” Pretending everything is perfect on the outside can wear a person down, and I’m so tired of pretending. “I think Dean is on drugs.”
He remains silent for a long time. Maybe a lifetime. It feels like forever before he finally speaks again. “Leave him.”
“Linc, that’s not the answer. I have to help him.”
He leans forward, invading the space between us with purpose. “To me it is.”
“I really need you to be my friend right now, okay?”
His green eyes hold mine as he contemplates my request. Then he nods. “Why do you think he’s on drugs?”
I swallow hard in an attempt to prepare my troubled heart. “He’s been more aggressive lately. Agitated.” I look down at my fidgety hands, tears welling up in my eyes. “He’s been calling out sick to work, sleeping during the day then staying out all night. He’s losing weight, and I can tell something isn’t right. I don’t know what to do.”
Linc’s face pinches with pain.
“Has he…has he ever put his hands on you?”
“No,” I reply, unable to look at him.
Dean hasn’t hit me but his anger and fits of rage are terrifying enough. Last week, he pushed me hard against the wall when we got into a heated argument about money. Hard enough to make the sheetrock crack. Then he was on his knees, crying, begging for me not to leave him. I didn’t know what to do. I could see in his eyes, how much he needed me and how sorry he was, but it didn’t change what he did.
I’d never felt so lost or unsure, and I’m afraid that if I don’t do anything now it will only get worse.
“How long has this been going on?”
“About six months.”
“Fuck, Sylvie. Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“Because I keep hoping it will get better. Despite how you feel about him, he is a good father. He may be jealous and a little possessive but he just does it because he loves me.”
He scoffs. “Do you still love him?”
“Yes, I love him. I love him very much.” I release a defeated sigh, sagging back into the seat. “I just don’t know how to help him. He won’t open up to me and now he’s starting to shut me out completely.”
Silence consumes the air between us but the way he’s looking at me says it all, it has my heart breaking and yearning at the same time.
“You need to confront him,” he says, his jaw locked down tight. “Give him an ultimatum. Either he gets help or you’re gone. You deserve better than this, Sylvie. You both do.”
The pain that’s been locked in my chest erupts like hot lava. I bury my face in my hands as sobs rack my body. “I’m so scared, Linc.”
He says nothing as he lifts the console between us and pulls me into his arms attempting to glue my broken pieces together.
After several long moments, I lift my head, and his rough thumbs wipe away my tears. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. You’ll get through this.” I nod, bringing my hand to cover his. “I’m here for you, Syl. No matter what. Until the day they put me in the ground, I’ll always fuckin’ be here.” His lips press the promise to my forehead and my heart cries out in relief.
Clinging to his strong body, my gratitude is a whispered ‘thank you,’ because there is no other possible way for me to express what this man means to me.
“No need to thank me for something I was born to do.”