Lincoln's eyes meet mine across the sea of bobbing heads and rekindled friendships. Surprise flickers over his features, mirroring my own unexpected jolt. And just as quickly as our connection sparks, it is broken, both of us looking away.
I navigate through clusters of chatting alumni, past the catered buffet that no one seems to be eating from, and sidestep a couple locked in an enthusiastic — if slightly off-key — rendition of our school anthem. My goal is the relative sanctuary of the quieter end of the gymnasium where Lincoln now stands. He is alone, seemingly absorbed in the pages of an old yearbook propped open on a display stand.
“Looking for incriminating photos or just reliving the glory days?” I ask, approaching him with a cautious smile.
Lincoln's head snaps up, his guarded expression melting into something softer, more genuine, as he recognizes me. “HeatherSullivan,” he says, his voice rich. “I’m sure there are plenty of pictures in here of our most popular student.”
“Speak for yourself,” I tease back. “I seem to recall a certain someone being quite the hero on the basketball court.”
“Ah, well,” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck, “those were simpler times, weren't they?”
I pretend to be interested in a photo of our junior year homecoming float. “Remember the time you accidentally glued yourself to the papier-mâché throne?”
“Accidentally?” Lincoln gives an exaggerated sigh. “I’ll have you know that was a strategic move to ensure royalty didn't topple mid-parade.”
“Of course. How could I forget Dr. Montgomery's tactical prowess?”
“Dr. Montgomery?”
“Word travels fast in small towns. So, Houston, huh? How's the big city treating you?”
“Busy, very busy. But there's something about working with the kids at the hospital that makes the chaos worth it.”
“Sounds like you found your calling.” I mean it. Even back then, Lincoln had a way of making people feel safe, like everything would be okay.
“Maybe I did. And you? Lawson Ridge lured you back after all these years?”
“Seems it did.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “After my divorce, I needed somewhere familiar... somewhere to start over. And what better place than home, right?”
“Right. There's a certain comfort in the familiar.”
“Brave or foolish, the jury's still out on that one.”
“Knowing you, I'd bet on brave. So, what's your biggest project these days?”
“Mostly developing apps that help streamline business processes. It's all about efficiency and user-friendly design now.” I shrug, a half-smile on my lips. “Not quite saving lives, but it pays the bills.”
“Hey, making life easier for people is its own kind of heroism. And speaking of saving lives, the hospital keeps me on my toes. Pediatric anesthesiology isn't exactly a walk in the park.”
“Sounds intense.”
“Intense but fulfilling. And when I'm not at the hospital, I volunteer. It's eye-opening—helps put things in perspective.”
“That's...incredible, Lincoln.”
He shrugs, the corner of his mouth lifting in a humble smile. “Sometimes it feels like just a drop in the ocean. There's so much need in the world. But yeah, each smile on a child's face after surgery—it makes everything worth it.”
“Must be tough though. To carry all that with you.”
“It can be. It's not just about the procedures. It's the connections—you're part of their most vulnerable moments. And sometimes...it doesn't go the way you hope. Sorry, didn't mean to darken the mood.” He clears his throat, looking away briefly before his gaze returns to mine. “What about you? Any dreams you're chasing back here in Lawson Ridge?”
“Actually, yes. I've been toying with the idea of starting my own company. Building apps that make a difference, maybe even in education or mental health.”
“Sounds like you're the one changing lives now.”
“Maybe in a small way.” I shrug, feeling a sudden rush of vulnerability. “But it's scary, you know? Stepping out on my own, especially after...everything.”
“Everything?” His voice is soft, inviting me to open up.
