Take Care, Sara

Sara’s stomach roiled. She picked up Styrofoam cups and paper plates, putting them in the garbage. They hadn’t said a lot since his parents had left close to an hour ago. Every time their gazes met, Sara had to look away from the pain she saw in his eyes.
    “Any more dishes?”
    Sara flinched at the sound of his deep voice. “No. Thank you. I can finish up, Lincoln,” she said, motioning to the dishes he was dutifully washing and setting in the strainer next to the sink.
    He rinsed a dish off, it gently clanging against other dishes as he set it down to dry. “Yeah. You told me that. But I’m not going anywhere.”
    Her breath hiccupped. “What?”
    Lincoln’s expression was stern as he faced her. “I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight. I don’t think you should be left alone.”
    Heat shot through her, flushing her cheeks. “I don’t care what you think. It’s my house and if I want to be alone, I get to be alone.”
    Half his mouth quirked up. “Any other time, sure. But tonight…” Lincoln shook his head. “No.”
    “Get out, Lincoln.”
    “ No .”
    Sara made a sound of frustration, flinging her hands in the air. “You can’t babysit me forever.”
    Lincoln straightened and moved toward her. “What makes you think I’m babysitting you? Maybe I don’t want to be alone either. Ever think of that? Maybe the thought of going to my house, the house Cole and I grew up, the place he’ll never come back to, is too much for me right now.”
    She swallowed, slowly nodding. “Okay.”
    He frowned and then said, “Okay. I’ll finish the dishes. You go relax. Or try to relax.”
    “I can’t relax.”
    “I said try ,” Lincoln said, an annoyed look on his face.
    Sara left him to the dishes, stopping outside the closed door to her bedroom. The house was full of them; all the closed doors. She thought of the painting of the door and wondered what it symbolized. It probably wasn’t that hard to figure out. She just didn’t have the energy to try to decipher its hidden meaning.
    “What is it, Sara?”
    “I just…” She rubbed her forehead, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Do you believe in God, Lincoln?”
    He let the dishrag splash into the sink. “Why do you ask? Do you not?”
    Sara slowly shook her head, turning so she faced him more. “I don’t know. I did. I mean…I always have, but…” She briefly closed her eyes. “I’ve lost so many. My dad, my mom, my…our…baby and…” Sara swallowed, trying to say his name. It lodged in her throat.
    Lincoln crossed his arms over his chest and leveled his gaze on her. “So what you’re wondering is, if God does exist, why does he hate you so much?”
    She flinched, her eyes watering. Sara blinked and tears dropped from her face. “I just—why do so many good people have to die? What’s the point of that? Why does He let it happen?”
    He straightened. “What makes you think He lets it happen?” Lincoln said slowly. “How do you know He’s not crying right along with you, Sara?”
    Sara looked away, her throat closing with pain.
    “He gave us life. All the rest of it…that’s part of living.  I don’t think He randomly picks people to lose more than others or that He decided He didn’t like you so He’s making you suffer. I don’t think He has any control over any of that. It’s all about free will, right? We’re given life and what we decide to do with that life and what happens to that life is out of His hands. I could be wrong. I am a lot.” Lincoln snorted. He rubbed his head, sighing. “Anyway, that’s what I think. Maybe it’s stupid.”
    “No.” Sara crossed the room to him. “It’s not stupid. Thank you, Lincoln.” She touched his cheek, emotions choking her into silence. Sara wanted to say more; she thought she should, but she couldn’t.
    Lincoln stilled, carefully breathing in and out, his hand lifting to hold hers against his face. His silvery eyes stabbed her with their directness; somehow clear even with all the shadows in them. Sara abruptly backed away, her hand falling from his face. She swallowed, averting her face. Without speaking, Lincoln turned his back to her and returned to washing the dishes.
    ***
    Falling. Sara was falling into a swirling vortex of misery and darkness. It was sucking her soul away, ripping it from her, and along with it, him. It was agony, having him severed from her. Sara didn’t know herself without him; she would vanish in his absence. She’d been so lost