CHAPTER 3 LINCOLN

My mom is already in the kitchen when I saunter down the stairs after a hot shower that did nothing to touch the pounding headache I woke with, and she's sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee.

When she glances up, she does a double take before she stands and walks over to me to inspect the bandage on my head. "What happened? Did Jolene hit you?"

I step away from her and head toward the coffee pot. "No." I sigh as I think back to last night. It feels like months have passed when it's really been less than twelve hours.

"That's half-caff," she warns me as I pour myself a cup, and I chug it down as I place a pod into my Keurig for immediate caffeine relief.

"Jolene was an emotional wreck, and she shouldn't have been driving. She lost control and the car slammed into a tree. We're both fine." Except I'm far from fine. Physically, yeah, I'm okay. Emotionally? I'm not sure I'll ever recover.

Somewhere in the middle of my statement, my mother moves across the kitchen toward me.

"Oh my word," she murmurs as she wraps her arms around me. "Why did you get into the car with her?"

"Because she's an adult who I assumed would drive with care and I needed to stop her from ending this thing." I sigh as I finish the cup of coffee that's not nearly strong enough for me.

"What exactly is this thing?" she asks, taking her seat at the counter again.

"I asked her to move in with me. Well, her and her son."

Her jaw drops. "Whoa, Linc. That's a big step. You wanted her son in your life…in your home?"

I feel the tremor of heat starting to pulse behind my eyes as my chest feels like it's caving in on me. I nod because I can't seem to make my mouth form words.

"I'm so sorry, baby," she says, and she swipes away a tear.

My instinct is to comfort her, but I'm not exactly sure why she's crying. I walk over and sling an arm around her shoulders. "What's the matter?" I ask gently.

"There is nothing worse in the entire world than seeing your baby hurting."

"I'm hardly a baby," I say dryly.

She stands again and she pulls me into a hug. "You will always be my baby. I'm sorry for what your father did. I think he really deluded himself into believing that he was acting in your best interest, but I can see how broken you are right now, and I hate it. I wish I could fix it."

I let her hold me as I start to break down.

I don't do this. This isn't me. I'm naturally stoic, which has been to my benefit on the field when I'm coaching. I didn't even cry at my grandmother's funeral. I think the last time I teared up was when…well, when I lost her the first time.

I'll have to get into the office. I'll have to be the tough guy unaffected by my personal losses. I'll have to focus on the team.

But there's nothing so strong as a mother's hug, and even though I've put on the tough guy act for the last twenty years where she's concerned, I don't want to be the tough guy right now.

I just want to let it all out. I don't want to fight that lump in the back of my throat anymore, and with my mother…I don't have to.

I start to cry.

She tightens her grip around me as my entire body quakes with emotion. I'm not used to showing this side of myself to anyone. Hell, I'd even venture to say I'm not used to having this side to myself. After I was forced away from Jolene, I think I went numb. And I think that numbness has lasted two decades…until she came back. Until she added gold flecks of color to the monotone. Until she managed to tap into every emotion I didn't know I could feel. Until she introduced Jonah to me and made me wonder if I've been missing out on fatherhood. Until she made me feel like I was a better man when I had her as my partner.

I sniffle as I'm overcome with these unfamiliar thoughts and emotions, and then my mom says the words that I will hold onto as I try to find my way out of these dark days.

She rubs my back in soothing circles. "Oh, honey. It's okay not to be okay, but you will get through this. We will get through this. Together."

I cling tightly to her, and I choose in that moment to believe those words. I'm grieving now, but I can't shut the door to hope. As long as it's still open, all I have to do is figure out how to walk through it.

I finally force myself to let go, if nothing else than because I need to eat breakfast before I head into the office. I splash some water on my face and dry it with a paper towel as I pull myself together. "I'm sorry," I murmur.

She shakes her head, and then she shoves a finger into my chest. "Don't you ever apologize for getting emotional. There's more room on the outside. Okay?"

I nod, thinking back to when she said that to Asher when he was crying as a little kid. I don't even remember why he was crying, but I do remember after she said that, Grayson farted and said there's more room on the outside for gas, too, and five-year-old Asher thought that was the funniest thing in the world. Even now, it brings just the slightest smile to my lips, and she narrows her eyes at me.

"You're thinking about Grayson, aren't you?"

I shrug. "Guilty as charged."

She laughs and shakes her head. "You boys. If I heard one more fart or poop joke back then, I was going to tear my hair out."

"We all turned out okay. And we didn't even make a single fart joke at the anniversary party," I point out.

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, you left before Ash and Gray got into a whole contest."

I wrinkle my nose but offer a laugh. Nothing like fart jokes to lighten the mood, even at thirty-six. "I should get into the office," I say.

"Are you sure you have to go? Or can you spend the day with your old mom?"

"You're hardly old," I say, squeezing her shoulder. "But, yeah, I do need to head in for at least a few hours. Dinner?"

She nods. "I fly back to New York tomorrow morning, so dinner tonight would be lovely."

"With Ash, too?"

"How about just you and me?" she asks.

"I'd like that." I don't have memories of when I was the only kid, back before my brothers came along. But there was a time when it was just this woman and me against the world, and as much as I love my siblings, sometimes I longed for her attention when she was unable to give it.

I head to the office and can't find my focus.

I try calling Jolene, and I'm not exactly sure why. I know she isn't going to answer, but I guess I just want to check on her. To check on us. She was mad last night, and I get that. But to throw away what we have because of this?

It feels harsh.

But I'm also not in her shoes. It probably took a lot for her to trust me again after I broke her heart the way I did the first time, and then I came back into her life promising I wouldn't do it again, only to…do it again.

She's right not to trust me. It's the smart thing for her to do. It's the only way to protect herself.

But that's not going to stop me from trying to win her back anyway.

I go the text route next.

Me: Hi. Just making sure you're okay today.

She doesn't answer.

I shouldn't be surprised, and it shouldn't hurt as much as it does when that door to hope inches just a little closer toward slamming shut.