Take Care, Sara

turned to her, burying his face in the crook between her neck and chin, wetness trickling from his eyes to dampen her shirt.
    She wrapped her arms around his shaking frame, her cheek coming to rest on his soft hair that smelled like lemons. She let her eyelids slide shut; listening to Lincoln’s pain, wishing there was no reason for it, wishing she could somehow remove it from him and from her. His hands grabbed fistfuls of her shirt near her back and clenched, holding her, clutching her, as though afraid she would disappear if he let her go. Chances were she would have. It was impossible for her to disappear with Lincoln holding her. He seemed to know that.
    ***
    Sometime during the night, Sara awoke; sweaty and trembling. She couldn’t remember the dream that had awakened her. She could only remember the agonizing sense of loss that stayed with her; that was real and could never be imagined; not loss that profound or inescapable. She sat up in the bed, wrapping her arms around her knees and placing her hot cheek to them. The room was black; a void of space. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing. Moments ticked by and still her heart pounded and her pulse raced. The room was suffocating and too warm.
    Before she was aware of it, Sara was walking from the room. The hallway was dark with only the glow of a nightlight to offer respite from total blackness. It cast a dim radiance to the area, giving it a surreal, dream-like state. Am I still dreaming? she wondered, hesitating near the door to her in-laws’ bedroom. It appeared the wood burning stove was in full working order. Only a pink nightshirt covered her and even that was too much. Sara shoved her long bangs dampened by perspiration from her face and inwardly warred with herself.
    Not that she thought Lincoln would think more into it than there was, but still, would it be right ? She was hurting, she was destroyed. So was he. Sara wanted a night of peaceful sleep and she was so alone; so alone she thought if she disappeared she wouldn’t even notice it. She thought maybe Lincoln would understand. He always seemed to know her, even when she didn’t know herself. Her bare feet silently moved along the wood floor, the bottoms of them chilled by the coolness of it. Sara didn’t understand how the air could be so hot and the floor still so cold.
    He was waiting for her, sitting up in his bed. A lamp was on next to the bed, turning Lincoln’s features into shadows and light. His eyes didn’t need the lamp to be seen; even in the semi-dark they were bright, intent on her. A closed book rested on the bed next to his blanketed legs. She tried not to stare at his unclothed chest, but it was well-muscled and deserved to be admired, even if only clinically.
    “Can’t sleep?” his voice rumbled, low and quiet. Lincoln’s eyes were dark; his features carefully blank as he gazed at her.
    Sara tore her eyes from his chest, face heating up, and met his eyes. “I—no. I mean, I was sleeping, but then I woke up. Bad dream,” she ended lamely.
    Lincoln set the book on the nightstand. “Me either.” He ran a hand through his already rumpled hair and sighed. “I can’t stop thinking about him. I tried to read. That didn’t happen. I’ve been sitting here, for hours, just…thinking.”
    Sara tentatively walked closer to the bed, hugging herself with her arms. “I want to sleep.”
    His eyes were red, sad. Lincoln nodded. “Me too.”
    They stared at each other, neither speaking. Sara took a shaky breath, seeing all the suffering she felt mirrored in Lincoln. “Can I—? I mean, it wouldn’t…” She blushed, not knowing how to continue.
    Lincoln wordless scooted over, making room for her. He waited, eyes downcast, his body held stiffly. Sara slowly got in beside him, not looking at him. The bed was warm, imprinted with his body and smell. Almost immediately, she relaxed a miniscule amount, but not enough to be completely at ease. Neither moved, neither spoke. A clock ticked off two minutes.
    “It doesn’t—“
    “I know , Sara,” he cut in. “It doesn’t for me either. You don’t have to say anything or explain anything, not to yourself or to me. Let’s just try to sleep, okay?”
    She wanted that peacefulness only Lincoln was able to provide; almost greedy for it. Sara tried not to feel guilty about that. Reaching over, Sara turned off the lamp. Darkness blanketed them. She reclined on the bed, her body straight and rigid. Sara focused