PROLOGUE
"There's still a chance. My lawyer says it's slim, but he thinks we have a shot." Even as he said the words, I didn't think he fully believed them. It was a fucking Hail Mary, and he knew it.
"I warned you, Linc. I told you, nothing good would come from you going with Alex."
"Lols, he's my brother. I couldn't let him go in there alone." His words rang hollow. I’d heard this before.
"Yes! Yes, you could have. Or you could've talked him out of it. You could've walked away. I told you it was stupid, and you shouldn't risk it. You could've done a lot of things. But you didn't. You put him first in front of our life together. Always. Everyone else always seems to come first."
"Lols. Love..." He looked heartbroken. He could see he was losing me.
"Don't." He put his hand up to the glass, and desperation filled his features. He could see my light dimming. He knew that this was real, that I was done. He couldn’t make this right. It was too late.
If he could’ve touched me, I would’ve faltered. But the glass that separated us was a barrier he couldn't break. And for the first time, I was glad that he wasn’t able to.
He watched as I clutched the phone to my chest. I was struggling. I wanted to break down and cry, but I was trying to be strong.
I took a deep breath, trying to prevent the quiver in my lip. I thought we had our whole lives together.
He gave me this look that willed me to put the phone back to my ear. I took a couple deep breaths and let a mask slip over my features. My chin no longer quivered. My eyes were suddenly reserved as I held the phone to my ear.
"Lola." Using my name, he begged me to forgive him, pleading with me to wait. My name on his lips implored that we were forever. It asked me to wait. It asked me to stay. It asked the impossible.
I cut him off, "Lincoln, I'm done. I can't. No—I just... I won't do this anymore." I hung the phone up, and like so many times when he’d said goodbye in the past, I said those same words back to him. “Goodbye, Linc.”
"Lola, no. Don't do this," he yelled. I couldn't hear him through the thick plated glass, but I watched his lips move, and I couldn’t bear the anguish. I had to turn and walk away for the last time. I couldn’t watch the guards escort him away.
If I turned, he would see how completely gutted I was. He would see how badly I wanted to stay. But I was done letting my heart win out over my head. I hadn’t gotten very far letting that lead. It was time to use my head. It was time to let go.
Chapter One
It was early. Too early for my alarm clock. The incessant buzzing wouldn't stop. Why, oh, why did they make these things start your day off with the most annoying sound? I slapped it lazily and did a roll/fall out of bed—the bed that's been empty for two years, nine months, and six days. Not that I'd been counting the days that Lincoln was gone, but today was the day that the manilla envelope sitting on the mantel explained that Lincoln was up for parole. Most wives in my situation would be happy that their husbands had a chance at parole. Then again, most wives would have visited their husbands in jail.
I untangled myself from my sheets that were still stuck around my ankles, just as Isabelle, purring loudly, rubbed against them. It was the only time of the day the cat was nice to me. She only ever warmed up to Linc.
"All right, Iz. I hear you."
I moved to the kitchen and sleepily grabbed a can of cat food from the cupboard. The coffee maker on an automatic timer went off, and my favorite drug, caffeine, began filling the small space with a rich aroma.
I filled the cat bowl and watched as Isabelle left my side and strutted straight to her bowl, forgetting I existed.
That figured.
I shook my head and grabbed my coffee mug from the metal dish strainer next to the sink. Sure, I had a dishwasher, but it was just me now. What did I need a big ole dishwasher for? After pouring my coffee, I grabbed my French vanilla flavored creamer and poured a healthy amount into my cup. It tasted divine. I inhaled the aroma like it was a drug, and it woke me up instantly.
I spent the next forty minutes getting ready for work. My hair was blown out. It was big, the way I liked it. The long thick black strands reached the middle of my back. My light hazel eyes were rimmed with black, and my eyeshadow was light, appropriate for office wear. I wore a subtle sheer lip gloss and used a bronzer, blush, and highlighter to contour my face. I dressed in a white blouse, a high-waisted black pencil skirt, and black pumps. This was my everyday polished look for work.
I moved to my jewelry box and grabbed a small pair of gold hoop earrings. My eyes briefly landed on my wedding ring. The pear-shaped diamond glinted against my jewelry, standing out as the nicest piece. I tried to keep my mind from going to Lincoln, but knowing what today was, it was hard.
What if he was released? How would I cope with that?
I shook my head and tried to rid the thoughts, reminding myself that he didn't have my phone number anymore. He didn't know where I lived. The only place he'd know to find me would be at my work, and there was a security guard at the door.
I took one final look in the mirror, accepting how put together I looked. I've always been grateful for my Spanish-Italian heritage. It gives me almost an exotic look, but today I thought about how my looks were what drew Lincoln to me. If I'd never met him...
No.
I needed to stop those thoughts and not continue to let my mind go there.
I threw on a thin black coat that cinched at the waist, grabbed my handbag, and keys, then locked the door behind me. Seconds later, I was on the elevator heading down to the first floor of my apartment and taking off down the street. The street was busy, as usual. People were too distracted on their phones to notice anyone around them. Not me. I was afraid of my phone today. I knew how resourceful he could be.
I boarded the L Train taking it to downtown Chicago. It's a twenty-minute ride from here and was always crowded. There were four seats open, so I hurriedly sat down in an empty one.
"Is this seat taken?" I looked up from my seat and saw an attractive hipster. He had a neatly trimmed beard, attractive glasses, and a tight man-bun. Even from down here, I could see how long his lashes were and the subtle pout to his lips.
"All yours," I replied, standing up so he could get to the window seat. There was no way I wanted to feel trapped with him on one side of me and the window on the other. That was the worst.
He sat down, and I did my best to not making eye contact. I didn't feel like talking. It seemed that these hipster types were always so friendly. I just wasn't up for it.
"So, are you on your way to work? That was a dumb question. Of course, you are. I mean, it's eight-fifteen on a Friday. Where else would you be going dressed like that?" He rambled.
"Mm-hmm," I answer non-committedly, hoping he'd get the hint.
My phone vibrated, making me jump and accidentally dropping it on the dirty train floor. I reached down to grab it and smacked my head right into the hipster.
"Ouch,'" I said at the same time he said, "Ow."
I sat up and rubbed my temple.
He handed me my phone, and for the second time, I thought that he was really attractive, almost pretty.
My phone vibrated again, and I looked down, seeing Ty flash across the screen. I let out a sigh. Ty is Lincoln's brother, whom I swore to secrecy with my phone number and address. He was the only person from my life with Lincoln that I continued to stay in contact with. No one else understood why I had to let Linc go. I couldn’t handle the judgment. As if me finally being finished with my con of a husband was so absurd.