Chapter 46
My ride drops me off, and Lincoln looks absolutely wrecked.
“I have flashlights,” he says, handing me one.
“Where did you park? Did you take your car?”
“Yeah I did. It's two blocks back that way,” he says, pointing behind him before we start the search.
“Do you think there's a chance he could have made it back home?” I ask.
“I've been checking the cameras regularly, and they notify me if there's any movement.
I also left the window that you broke open a little bit, so if he gets home he can jump up and get in there.
I contemplated leaving the door open but…
this is New York. I lost my cat. I don't want to lose everything else.”
“No, I understand,” I smile sadly, walking alongside him.
“I’m becoming an expert at losing pussy,” he says, his face an impassive mask as he stares straight ahead.
I can’t help it. A giggle escapes me.
He chuckles too, a brief, hollow sound meant only to ease the tension.
We’ve been searching for nearly two hours now, voices growing hoarse from calling Morris’s name, pausing strangers on the sidewalk to thrust a photo of the cat under their noses.
Aside from most people, who don't even want to talk to us, because nobody talks to anybody here, everybody tells us no.
That morbid thought in the back of my mind tells me that even if they did know and they are the ones who had Morris, they probably would just keep him.
If someone has him, I just hope it's for the right reasons.
Heavy clouds roll in as the blue from their trails bruises the skies.
Checking the weather, I see that there's a really bad storm on its way.
“It looks like we're about to get a really bad storm,” I let Lincoln know.
“Yeah. More reason why we can't leave Morris out here. Besides, I think that storm is supposed to roll right over us.”
On the third hour the rain is pouring, lightning crashing, and the storm rolled right over us all right. It rolled right over us and stopped right on top of us.
Lincoln and I have to run all the way back to where he parked his car.
Almost drenched, we get back in the car.
It's quiet for a while; the only sound is the rain beating on the windshield and every surface area of the car.
“I hope he found someplace to stay warm and dry,” Lincoln says, shivering under his wet clothes.
“I don't think you have to worry about that.
Cats are extremely smart. They're one of the few domesticated animals that are still fully capable of taking care of themselves in the wild.
So long as we don't clip their claws, which you didn't do, so if anything he can climb and get himself to safety. Or squeeze through anywhere,” I try to assure him.
“Yeah… but the collar might get caught on something… or… what if he's not fast enough and—”
“Link? Don't start going down that road. Positive thoughts. It's the only thing that we have within our control right now.”
He nods slowly after a while.
Starting the car, he turns on the heat.
We both sit awkwardly trying to warm up our hands as the rain beats all around us, creating liquid curtains that flow and replace layer after layer of water upon the glass of the car.
Then it hits me.
This is just like the time in the shuttle van before Lincoln and I started dating.
Back when we were working together, catching feelings for each other, and where everything was simple.
I look to my left at Lincoln in the driver's seat. He's breathing hard, albeit slower now. Then he looks over to his right at me, the both of us holding our eyes for a minute.
There's so much that I want to ask him about this morning and last night, but nothing comes out.
Tension settles over the car.
Lincoln smacks his lips, looking outside his driver-side window away from me. He's still mad at me.
I'm helping him find his cat. It's not like we can search for him right now, and he doesn't want to go back home.
Fidgeting, Lincoln takes out his phone to open the app and browse the security footage, probably thinking there was motion somewhere and Morris came home.
“Anything?” I ask.
Shaking his head, he exhales. “No. Nothing.”
“We're going to find him okay?”
“You don't know that Gabrielle.”
“I love Morris,” I say with a gentle voice, prompting Link to turn to me.
Smiling, I continue. “I really do. As soon as I saw him, I fell in love with him. I care about him like he's my own cat.”
“You don't look like you're that torn up about it,” he scoffs, looking away from me.
Placing my hand on his right thigh, my heart gentles.
“I'm trying to stay strong for the both of us. I can't afford… for my mind to go there. Because the truth is I refuse to accept that anything happened to him. He's just like any young male cat. He's hit puberty or past it or whatever, and he wants to explore. He got an opportunity.”
“I couldn't have been that good of an owner… if he was willing to just leave and not come back,” Lincoln says sadly, and my heart breaks for him.
My body twists, left thigh folding under me to face him better. “Lincoln you know as well as I do that cats have a mind of their own. I know you had a pet cat growing up.”
“My siblings took care of it mostly.”
“I know but, this has nothing to do with you. I mean think about it. Morris likes me more than he likes you,” I smile.
This time he does look at me and gives me a mischievous smug stare.
“It's true, jerk. Am I lying?”
Shaking his head playfully, he closes his eyes and looks out the windshield. “I appreciate that.”
“Appreciate what?”
“You trying to have a good outlook. You always… you always had a good outlook on everything. You always stayed positive. Even when I drove you crazy,” he replies in a haze, not looking at me.
The air is too quiet. My hand finds my lap once more, fingers fidgeting over each other.
“Lincoln? What the hell happened? This morning?”
“We fucked each other,” he says nonchalantly as if he's not all here.
“No, I mean… the reason we did. What was… why were you so angry with me? I know what you told me but I don't believe that's the full story.”
Taking a deep breath, Lincoln turns to me. “I meant what I said. I don't like you coming in early in the morning.”
“But you did those same things—”
“I was working Gabrielle! I… most of the time… I had a reason. I wasn't trying to piss you off.”
“But why would that piss you off? You think I came home early in the morning specifically to piss you off?”
“Then why did you? Why won't you ever answer when I asked you where you were?”
“Why do you want to know so badly where I was? Why is that your business?” my voice rises in response to his doing the same.
“Because we live together!” he snaps.
“Yeah we lived together when we were married as well. You did a poor job of telling me when you were coming home and—”
“So you ARE doing it to spite me then.”
I really have to try and calm down. He's upset and Morris is missing. The last thing I want to do is get into a full-blown argument with him while it's pouring outside and we have no means of escape from this claustrophobic car.
“I didn't do it to spite you,” my breath comes out measured.
“But you keep bringing up that I did it when we were married as if somehow that makes it right. Can we both agree that what I did was wrong? And what you're doing is wrong?”
Scoffing, I turn to face him in outrage.
“I'm sorry but how the… how am I doing something wrong?
We are not married. Do you not get that concept?
Do you not understand why it was wrong when you did it versus why it's not wrong because I'm doing it now?
Even if I was just your roommate or I was your sister it wouldn't matter.
I'm a grown ass woman last time I checked and I am not with you.
So please try again when you give me the excuse as to why you're so pressed about me—”
“Forget it. I don't want to talk about it,” he interrupts.
No the hell he didn't.
“We have to talk about it,” I urge.
“We're not married. That's what you said right? So we really don't have to talk about anything.”
Licking my lips, I stare out of my window away from him, feeling peeved because this is going absolutely nowhere.
Lincoln is horrible when it comes to communication. Sure there were times where he would do a good job at trying to listen or at least he became very good at pretending he was, but when it came to the really uncomfortable things he would always make himself scarce.
He literally cannot escape right now. I'm not letting him get away with it.
Shoving him lightly on his shoulder, I force him to look at me.
My eyes meet his glare.
“We're going to talk about it. Because you're full of shit.”
“I'm full of shit?” he challenges.
“Yeah, you're full of shit. What is the real reason you're mad?”
“You're not listening. You used to talk to me and preach about communication but you never listen when I speak!” he says loudly.
“I would listen. And I'm listening now but all I'm hearing is bullshit. Your actions and the level of the rage that you displayed this morning does not match the reason that you're giving me. So forgive me if I don't believe you,” I counter.
“You never believe me so what the fuck is the difference? Why should I waste my time?”
“Because you locked me out of the house! You threw my shit outside! And not for nothing Link, but you're so quick to toss me out on my ass but whenever you need something you come crawling back to me. As if the only reason I'm here is to solve your problems or save you from something.”
“I never asked you to save me from shit.”
“But I did Lincoln!”
“Why the fuck are we fighting about this right now?!” he barks.
“Because you ruined everything from lying!!! You made it seem like you were—”
“You're going to bring that shit up right now? You selfish fucking person.”
“Yes, I'm going to bring it up right now! What? Is it really that hard for you to be honest?” I urge.
“Honest about what?”