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It’s reflected back at me.
We knew we were taking a risk running around in secret. But tonight’s events just took that to a whole new level—a level I don’t know how to come back from.
A couple hours later, I’m at home in my pajamas on the couch trying to get lost in some TV show that clearly doesn’t understand the assignment of holding my attention. Instead, I’m scrolling my phone.
There must not be much going on in local news because every single local media outlet is focused on what went down tonight.
I’m skimming the third article about it even though I witnessed it in person when the door opens and Sam walks in with a rather dejected looking Lincoln following behind her.
When he glances up and his eyes meet mine, heat prickles behind my eyes.
I figured it would be bad, but the way he’s looking at me tells me it’s even worse than I expected. I turn off the television and toss the remote beside me, and I stand to face him.
The tension in here is some level beyond thick, and I brace myself for the worst.
I knew it from the start. The end was inevitable.
How can we possibly be together when there’s just so much bad blood between our families?
We were cursed, and we both always knew that. Still, thinking about the actual end stabs the kind of knife into my guts that tells me even though I was expecting it, I’m certainly not prepared for it.
“I’m going to bed,” Sam announces. “Goodnight.” She practically runs out of the room, clearly trying to give us privacy but instead making things even more awkward.
We stand and stare across the small space at each other. A couch stands between us, but it feels like we’re separated by oceans.
I don’t even know where to begin, so I start with the one thing that hurt me the most to hear. I can’t imagine how it felt for him to hear it.
“My father’s opinion of you is wrong.”
He looks a little caught off guard by my words.
“I can’t even repeat the words, Lincoln. It made me sick to my stomach when he said that.”
He presses his lips together. “We both know how this works. Those words will be everywhere tomorrow, and people will start looking to create a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“What do we do?” I ask as the tears splash over my lids and onto my cheeks.
He looks torn, like he wants to comfort me but isn’t sure whether he should. “I don’t know,” he finally whispers.
“I won’t let them fulfill that, Lincoln. I’ll do whatever it takes to show the best sides of you, to prove his words wrong.”
“At what expense, though? Your relationship with your father? I can’t ask you to do that when you’re so close with them. When they’re there for your son the way they always are. It’s not just you, Jo. There’s a kid involved, too, and I can’t be the reason you rip your family apart.”
I shake my head. “As far as he’ll be concerned, it’s work. It’s my boss telling me what to cover. It’s my job to paint you in the best light, and I know sides of you that others haven’t seen.”
“You can’t exactly show those sides.” He gives me a pointed glance.
I shake my head. “Not those sides. But what about the side when you were laughing with Jonah right here on this couch?” I nod down to the couch I just stood from.
His brows dip together. “What?”
“You’re good with kids, Lincoln. So you do some volunteer work with kids and I cover it. I find a way to capture the things you tend to hide, the sides of you that you don’t let others see.” I hold up a hand. “The appropriate sides. I show what a loyal person you are by highlighting your relationship with Sam.”
“That’s more her being loyal than me,” he protests.
“We paint the picture we want others to see. We create our own narrative.”
“Jesus, you sound like my publicist,” he mutters.
