by Levine, Nina
I decided that what I really needed was fresh air, so I put one foot in front of the other until I made it outside and found a seat. Inhaling, I sucked air deep into my lungs and closed my eyes while trying to talk myself out of crying.
Telling Winter about my pregnancy had brought it all back up for me. The pain of losing the baby, the pain of losing both my tubes, and the pain of walking away from him all those years ago. It sat so close to the surface that I felt like it was happening all over again.
Walking away from Winter had almost killed me. He’d been my everything for a decade. All my hopes and dreams had been tied to him. My future was him. Until I’d known it couldn’t be. Because as much as I’d loved him and wanted no one but him, I couldn’t take away his chance at being a father. Cleo had tried to talk me around, shoving information at me about IVF. That was an option, but the one friend I’d known who tried it had spent eight years attempting to have a baby and had ended up childless and in debt. I didn’t want that for Winter. I’d decided I’d rather he found love with someone who could give him what he wanted. So I left.
I’d spent the last five years trying like hell to forget how much I wanted children. I didn’t want to contemplate IVF because I wasn’t sure I could handle the journey, so I put having babies completely out of my mind. It was only in the last six months that I’d found my way to being okay with not having a family. Or so I thought, because this reaction to what that woman said wasn’t the reaction of someone who was okay with not having a family.
I need Winter.
God how I needed him, but I was the last person he needed right now, so instead, I called Cleo.
“Hey you,” she said, “How are you today? How’s Winter?”
I burst into tears.
“Shit,” Cleo murmured. “Hang on one sec, babe. I just need to take care of something and then I’m all yours.”
I waited for her with tears streaming down my face. I didn’t even bother wiping them or trying to stop them. They clearly needed to fall, so I let them. People walked by, eyeing me with curiosity, but I ignored them.
A couple of minutes later, she came back on the line. “Okay, Birdie, I’m all yours. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t think I’m okay with not having kids,” I blurted. Just saying it out loud devastated me, let alone thinking about it.
“Fuck. You need me and I can’t get there.” She turned silent for a beat. “Fuck, babe, if I could, I’d be on a plane today, but I can’t leave.”
I gripped my phone harder. “I know. That’s not why I called. I just needed to hear your voice. Winter has shut down on me and then this morning this woman said stuff to me about having kids, and fuck, I’m a mess.” I took a breath and wiped my tears. “I honestly thought I was at the point where I was good with not having children, but now, with this reaction, I don’t know. Oh God, Cleo…. My life is a fucking mess.” By the time I got all my words out, my heart was racing. Every word I said and every thought I had only increased my confusion.
“Okay, slow down and let’s go through this. Your life isn’t a mess; you’ve just got shit to deal with. That’s normal. And as far as you not being able to have kids, we’ve discussed this and you have options. I know they’re not the options you wish you had, but babe, people have worse options. We can talk more about that, but first tell me more about how Winter is handling this.”
She was right; it was normal. And yet, it all felt overwhelmingly messy. But she was also right to be blunt with me, because when I got like this, I didn’t do well with anything but blunt.
“He doesn’t want to talk about it. Not yet. He told me he loves me but he’s fucking mad with me and he needs space until he gets that shit under control. His words exactly.”
“Right, we can work with that. Especially with the bit about him loving you. Where is he today?”
“At his dad’s place, figuring out how to get it ready to rent.”
“And you’re not with him because he needs space, yes?”
“Yes.”
She turned silent for a moment. “Okay, I get that he needs space, but you guys need to talk, Birdie. Even if that’s a fight, you need to start getting this stuff out.”
“I don’t disagree with you, but I’ve never seen Winter like this. He’s never pushed me away, ever. I don’t want to force him to talk when he’s not ready and chance him retreating even further.”
“Do you have an idea of when you’re going to initiate a conversation? I don’t think you want to let this go on for too long.”
“We’ve got his dad’s funeral tomorrow, so I’ll wait until Wednesday and see how he is then.”
“Birdie,” she said softly, “don’t avoid this like you’ve been avoiding telling him about the baby. I know it’s painful and I know things will get said that might be ugly and hard to hear, but he’s told you he loves you; he won’t push you completely away.”
I wiped the last of my tears from my cheeks, thinking about what she’d said. Hoping she was right. I was too close to the situation, too invested in it to think straight, so I relied on Cleo’s instinct.
When I didn’t say anything, she said, “As for you having kids, you need to know that I am right here fighting alongside you for whatever you want in life, so if having kids is what you want, I’ve fucking got your back. I will move heaven and earth to help you. And when it comes to Winter, well, we all know that man will do whatever it takes to give you what you want. So you just concentrate on him for now and we’ll all cross that bridge if and when you get to it.”
And there went my tears again.
Good God, this was getting ridiculous.
Madly brushing them away, I said, “I fucking love you, but you need to stop talking now because you’re making me cry.”
I heard the smile in her voice when she said, “I fucking love you too, but I have to go because Mrs Wilson is about to arrive for her weekly physio session and we both know that I need to be centred and ready for whatever crap she’s going to throw at me today. God help me, Birdie. I swear my hands are gonna slip and end up around her neck one day.”
I laughed through my tears. Mrs Wilson was the bane of Cleo’s existence. “Go. Get centred. I’ll keep you updated. And thank you for being the amazing friend you are.”
“Love you, girl,” she said before ending the call.
As I sat and waited for my tears to dry, thinking about Winter and babies and hard times, I also thought about Cleo and friends and how lost I’d be without her. She gave me strength when I didn’t think I had any left. She always had. I couldn’t imagine not having a friend like that. Just like I couldn’t imagine not having Winter by my side.
I might have done my best to keep him out of my life all this time, but I knew now, without a shadow of a doubt, that Winter was the man I wanted to grow old with. And I would do whatever it took to make that happen.
24
Winter
* * *
I surveyed the mess I’d spent today making in Dad’s house. Boxes of belongings sat packed in the living room, overflowing into other rooms of the house. Max had texted me that he wanted to put everything into storage to go through later so we could rent the house out soon, so I’d packed up almost the entire house ready to transport to the storage unit I’d hired this morning. The only rooms left to go through were Dad’s bedroom and his study. I wasn’t sure if I hadn’t done them yet because I was waiting for Max or because it felt too fucking hard to do. He was on his way here now, so I decided to wait for him. I knew there would be belongings in those rooms he might want to look through now rather than later.
Heading into the kitchen, I grabbed the bottle of whisky I’d found while packing and poured myself a drink. Fuck knew I needed one. Between thinking about Dad, Max, and Birdie today, my mind was completely fucked up.
Handling all of Dad’s belongings had been harder than I’d imagined. The fact I’d simply had to pack everything into boxes rather than think about whethe
r we wanted to keep them or not helped, but even then, just looking at and holding each item had been difficult.
A lifetime of memories was in these items. And while I wasn’t sentimental about many things in life, if something concerned those I loved, it stirred my emotions.
I didn’t want to think about the fact I’d never see my father again. Hell, not being able to talk to him about the shit between Birdie and me was the fucking kicker that slammed it home he was gone. There’d be no more phone calls between us where he’d give it to me straight. No more conversations in which he’d point out the things I couldn’t see in a situation. And no more of him helping me be the man he’d raised me to be.
I threw some whisky down my throat.
I needed Max more than I’d ever needed him. He was being distant, though. Hell, he couldn’t even bring himself to call me earlier, but rather he’d texted to let me know his plans for today. That wasn’t how our relationship ran. Before he left tonight, I was determined to clear the air between us. I just had to take Birdie off repeat in my head while I did that, because she was like a non-stop loop that got in the way of everything else I was trying to focus on.
How long are you going to not talk to me about what I did?
She’d asked me that this morning and I hadn’t been able to give her an answer. Fuck, I hadn’t even been close to being able to answer that question, because the truth was I’d found myself in a place I’d never been—I didn’t want to talk to Birdie.
I didn’t want to confront what she’d done.
I didn’t want to confront our past.
And I sure as fuck didn’t want to confront our new reality.
We may never be able to have children.
“Matt,” Max said, entering the kitchen. I’d been deep in thought and hadn’t heard him arrive.
I took in his dishevelled appearance and the exhaustion etched into his face. “You look like hell, brother.”
Placing his keys on the kitchen counter, he nodded. “Yeah. I feel like it too.” Then, motioning at the whisky, he said, “Pour me one of those.”
Max wasn’t a drinker. Not these days. Not after years of Melissa making it clear she didn’t want him drinking.
I poured him a glass and held mine up as I said, “To Dad.”
Grief flashed in Max’s eyes as he held his glass up. “To Dad.”
My own grief clawed at me, but I forced it back down, unwilling to go there tonight.
We both drained our glasses and Max slid his across the counter to me, indicating he wanted another. After I’d poured the drinks, I said, “This bottle isn’t going to be enough for tonight, is it?”
He shook his head. “No.” He took a gulp of his drink. “But I know where there’s more.”
I lifted a brow. “Where?”
“In his office.” He glanced around the kitchen. “You’ve been busy.”
“I don’t want to leave you with a huge job.”
“When are you leaving?”
“I have to be back by Monday. I’ll probably leave early Sunday.” King had stuff he needed me to take care of and couldn’t push it any longer than then.
Max stared at me while he drained his second glass of whisky, while we both danced around what we really needed to talk about. I couldn’t do this a second longer, though. I fucking needed my brother back.
“Have you slept at home the last two nights?” I asked, suspecting he hadn’t. The last time he and Melissa had a fight that threatened their marriage, he’d slept at a friend’s house for a week. My brother liked to avoid his problems.
He surprised me when he said, “Yes. On the couch.”
As he poured us another drink, I thought back over our lives. To the day he’d married Melissa and the days he’d brought his sons home. They’d been the best days of his life, he’d told me. And I knew they had been by the happiness that had radiated from him. I couldn’t recall ever seeing my brother happier than those three days.
I took the drink he offered me. “Do you think two people can get past lies and betrayal?”
“Fuck, Matt, are we settling in for some deep shit tonight?”
“It feels like the night for it.”
He scrubbed his face. “We’re definitely going to need this other bottle of whisky,” he said before exiting the kitchen.
I followed him into Dad’s office, trying like hell to shake off the nostalgia washing over me. Usually, I liked taking a trip back to old memories, but not today. Fuck, not today. However, they were flowing thick and fast, and I couldn’t avoid them.
Standing in the office doorway, I watched Max rummage in Dad’s filing cabinet. A flash of a smile crossed his face as he pulled out two bottles of whisky. Both full.
“This should do it,” he said, placing them on Dad’s desk.
I heard him, but I was too caught up in the memories this room held that I didn’t respond.
Dad teaching me at the age of ten how to play poker.
Mum sitting on Dad’s lap at this very desk, kissing him and laughing with him while she tried to distract him from working so many hours.
Max and I hiding from each other in this room while we played hide-and-seek.
Fuck.
My chest tightened as I thought about going through Dad’s belongings in here. This office was jam-packed with his personal possessions.
“We can go through the office another day,” Max said, drawing my attention back to him. He came my way, holding up the whisky bottles. “Let’s just sit tonight.”
I let out the breath that had been trapped deep in my chest, thankful he’d recognised my inability to deal with the office today.
We moved into the formal lounge room and he passed me another drink as we sat on the couch we’d hardly ever sat on in our lives. This had been Mum’s favourite room. The one room in the house Max and I’d had to be on our absolute best behaviour growing up. No shoes, no food, no drinks, no mess. The cream couch had never had a mark on it from us. Her crystal vases had remained unbroken. And her beloved piano was still in immaculate condition. Even after her death, the three of us had looked after her favourite things.
“Thank fuck we only have two parents,” I muttered. Going through this twice was hard enough.
Max nodded, but didn’t say anything.
We sat in silence for a long while, both lost in our thoughts, before Max finally answered my earlier question. “I think it’s possible for two people to get past lies and betrayal if they want to.”
I sat forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “How?”
Displeasure flashed across his face. “If this is going to be another conversation where you trash my choice to fight for my marriage, I’m not fucking interested.”
I stared at him, my thoughts and emotions a mess. “Birdie got herself pregnant five years ago without telling me. She was trying to force me to quit the army. But it was another ectopic pregnancy. She lost the baby and her ability to have children naturally.” I swallowed hard. “She only just told me this yesterday.”
His eyes widened. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, that covers it,” I said roughly. “So tell me, how the fuck do we move past this?”
My question pushed us into silence again as Max contemplated it. He always had been the deep thinker out of the two of us, and I’d always gone to him with my problems when we were younger. The years had come between us since then, and I’d stopped reaching out to him for help, but I needed it now.
“You have to want to move past it,” he finally said.
“I want to, but right now I have no clue how to do that.”
He drank some whisky. “So maybe it’s just time you need.”
I thought about that. Hell, I’d done a lot of thinking about that over the last twenty-four hours. “I can’t be in the same room as her, Max. Fuck, I can barely look at her. I’m that fucking angry. And I know she’s gotta be hurting too while we’re bringing everything up that happened to her, but I can’t bring myself to….
Fuck, I can’t even bring myself to check in on her over that.”
A minute or so passed before he took a deep breath, exhaled it, and said, “I’ve been angry with Melissa for two years over the way her spending has impacted our family. It started off as a tiny spark, but because I’ve held onto that anger for all this time, and avoided dealing with it, it’s grown into this ugly thing that sits between us, festering. The place we’re in right now is a place I wouldn’t wish on my enemy. I know it’s why she started a friendship online with this other guy. And while I hate to say it, I can understand why she’s done it. Fuck, I’m no saint; I found myself flirting with a woman at work for a while there.” He paused briefly. “It’s easier to avoid the muck than it is to get in it. Don’t do that, brother. You love Birdie and you have another chance at a future with her. Get in the fucking muck with her.”
I threw some whisky down my throat as I contemplated what he’d said. There was so much there. Finally, I said, “You flirted with another woman?”
He shook his head. “Out of everything I just said, that’s what you focus on?”
“Seriously, though, you’re Max Morrison, upstanding fucking citizen who lives his life in fucking order. You do all the right things. You try to please your wife. You help your community. You don’t fucking flirt with other women.” I drained my glass. “I can’t wrap my head around this.”
He shrugged. “We’re all just trying our best, and at the end of some days, our best isn’t quite up to standard. But whose fucking standard are we trying to live up to?” He drank some whisky. “None of us are perfect, Matt. Not me, not you, not Birdie. Not Mel. But in amongst all that imperfection is love that’s worth everything. That’s what you need to hold onto and keep remembering, brother.”
I couldn’t argue with him there; I’d always lived my life with the belief that perfection didn’t exist. And since all I’d ever wanted for my brother was for him to be happy, I couldn’t dispute what he said or how he handled his marriage and life. For the first time, it seemed that Max wasn’t avoiding his problems with Melissa. And regardless of whether I liked his choices, I supported his effort to find happiness.