by Levine, Nina
Glancing at him, I found his eyes fixed on the minister, his jaw tight, and his shoulders like stone. Tears rushed at the back of my eyes and I looked away, blinking madly, trying to stop them.
Seeing Winter hurt was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. Knowing I was a source of a lot of that hurt made it hard to breathe. But I pushed all of the emotions strangling me over that and brought today back to what it was all about—Winter’s father.
I placed a hand on Winter’s thigh. I wanted to take his hand, but he had both of them clasped tightly together in his lap, so I settled for his thigh. It tensed under my touch, but only for a moment before relaxing again. Another moment passed between us and then he placed his hand over mine, gripping it tightly.
My heart squeezed as his hand squeezed over mine.
I settled in and listened to Winter’s father’s friends and family share memories of him and his life. Max read the eulogy and then Winter got up to talk about his father.
He looked out at the people who had shown up and took a few moments to acknowledge some with a nod or a quick smile sent their way. He didn’t read from a piece of paper, but rather spoke from his heart.
“Dad is the best man I know, except for my brother, and well, Max is a chip off the old block. My father taught Max and me what it means to be a man and how to be that man. His lessons came daily because his method was to teach by example. And those lessons didn’t stop once we reached adulthood. They kept on coming because Dad was a man who never stopped leading by example. His biggest lessons were on loyalty, perseverance, commitment”—he looked at me—“and love.” He kept his eyes glued to mine as he continued. “For years, Dad and I had a Friday phone call in which he never once failed to tell me that the love of a good woman was all I needed in life. He’d set a good example of that, too, in the life he shared with Mum. It’s that example that I know will guide me for the rest of my life.” His voice turned rough and I knew he was fighting his emotions. I was fighting my own feelings of hope after what he said about needing the love of a good woman. I wanted to be that woman for him, but I wasn’t sure if he would see me as her again.
He turned to the photo of his father. “I’ll never forget the lessons you taught us, Dad, or the example you set, because every time I look at someone I love, I’ll be reminded of how you taught me to do that.”
My tears fell then. I couldn’t hold them back any longer.
He finished and came and sat next to me, this time spreading his arm over my shoulders across the back of the pew. I placed my hand back on his thigh and he didn’t tense under my touch like he had before. We stayed like that until the service finished, at which point Winter leaned in close and said, “I need to get out of here.”
When he stood and held his hand out to me, I took it.
I knew exactly what Winter meant when he said he needed to get out of here.
He needed his bike and the open road.
And my heart swelled that he wanted me with him.
26
Birdie
* * *
I clung to Winter as he pulled his bike into the hotel car park and found a park. Once he killed the engine, I hopped off and removed my helmet. He followed suit, barely meeting my gaze. We then walked the short distance to the lift and waited for it to arrive. In silence.
Pulling out my phone, I checked the time. 4:32 p.m. We had the whole night ahead of us and I wondered if it would be spent the same way this afternoon had been, with Winter barely talking to me.
After we’d left the crematorium this morning, we spent a couple of hours on his bike. I’d taken it as a sign he might be ready to talk, but after the ride, he took us to Max’s house for the wake and he’d then spent the afternoon talking to everyone but me. He didn’t ignore me, but he certainly seemed more comfortable having a conversation with his dad’s friends than having one with me. Any time we spoke, it had been quick and to the point.
I didn’t know what to expect now and I didn’t know how much space I was supposed to give him, but hell, he’d said goodbye to his father today, so I was keeping close in case he needed me.
The lift arrived and we stepped inside. Winter tapped our hotel key so he could select our floor and we silently rode up. He stared straight ahead; I stared at the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt, and the tattoos that covered his arms. I still hadn’t dedicated enough time to checking out all the ink he’d gotten in the last five years. God, I hope I get the chance.
We reached our floor and then our room and Winter let me in, holding the door open. My eyes met his as I brushed past him, and when I turned after walking to the bed, I found him watching me.
The door clicked closed after him, and he came in and placed his helmet down. “Thank you for today.” Eyes still on me.
The jagged edge to his voice had me wanting to go to him with my arms out wide, but the way he held himself back from me caused me to hold myself back, too.
Winter was grateful for my presence today, but in no way was he ready for me to get close.
Trying to ignore the awkwardness between us, I said, “I heard you last night, Winter, so I’m giving you space, but if you need me, I’m here.” When he didn’t respond to that except to keep looking at me with the same intensity he’d watched me with earlier, I said, “I just need you to know that, okay? We don’t have to talk; we can just be together if that’s what you need.”
Finally, he nodded and sat on the edge of the bed, his back to me, his elbows resting on his knees, his head dropped. If I had to use only one word to describe him today, it would have been broken. Anyone who didn’t know Winter well wouldn’t have used the same word, but as far as I was concerned, my man was utterly broken. And I felt completely useless and unable to help him.
My phone sounded with a text.
* * *
Cleo: How is everything? How was the funeral? How’s Winter?
* * *
Winter stood, dragging my attention back to him. “I’m gonna have a shower.”
When the bathroom door closed behind him, I went back to my phone.
* * *
Me: God, today has been awful. Are you free for a call?
Cleo: Yeah, gimme five.
* * *
I swiped the room key up and exited the room. Five minutes later, I was in a big comfy chair in the hotel lobby, waiting for Cleo to answer my call.
“Hey, babe,” she said, sounding as exhausted as I felt.
“Hey, you. Are you okay? You sound tired.”
“I’m a little tired, but I’m good. I have ten minutes before my next client, so tell me everything.”
I frowned. “You’re working late today.” Cleo usually saw her last patient much earlier in the day.
“Yes. Now talk, because we’re losing time here the more you talk about other stuff.”
I sighed and caught her up on everything that happened today. She listened quietly, and when I finished, she said, “I’m sorry this is so hard, Birdie, but you guys are going to get through it. You know that, right?”
“I want to say yes, but honestly, I’m just not sure. Winter looks at me sometimes like he doesn’t even know me.”
“And the other times?”
“The other times, what?” I was confused by her question.
“How does he look at you when he’s not looking at you like that?”
“A lot of the time he doesn’t even look at me, but then when he does, it’s with this intense, fierce stare. I think it’s his grief when he does that… maybe…. God, I don’t know anymore. I can’t read him at the moment.”
“Babe,” she said softly, “you’d know if it was grief. I know that Winter intensity, and it means he is far from giving up on you. I hate to give you this advice, because I know how bad you are at it, but you need to be patient.”
She was right; I knew she was, but knowing it didn’t ease my inner turmoil.
“Shit,” Cleo said as I mulled over her advice. “I have to go in a minu
te, but tell me what the plan is for tonight.”
“I don’t know if we have a plan. I mean, Winter hasn’t said anything, and I’ve been so busy giving him space today that I didn’t ask.”
“Okay, well call if you need me. I’ll be home after seven.”
“Thanks, babe. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” she said before ending the call.
I placed my phone on my lap, closed my eyes, and rested my head back against the couch. Taking a deep breath, I focused on clearing my mind and calming the anxiousness that filled me. I spent a good ten minutes doing that, and when I headed back to the lift, I felt a little more able to deal with whatever happened when I got back to the room.
I was wrong, though, because when I reached my destination, I found Winter on the phone making plans to meet someone in the lobby in half an hour.
Not what I’d expected, it flared all my emotions again. Somehow, I managed to keep them all on the inside.
Winter dropped his phone on the bed and looked at me. “Max is coming over.”
“You’re going out with him?”
“Yeah. He wants to do dinner. Catch up some more now that we’ve cleared the air and gotten through today.”
My heart sunk, but I understood this wasn’t him shutting me out. This was him being with his brother. “That sounds like a good idea,” I said, my voice betraying everything I felt.
“Birdie,” he started, eyeing me with that intensity again, “the dinner invite includes you.”
I wanted desperately to have dinner with them, but I didn’t want to intrude on their time together. Not after they’d had so much tension between them over the will and Melissa. “No, you go by yourself. I want you guys to have some alone time. I’ll grab some room service and watch some TV to wind down, and probably fall asleep by nine like I usually do.” There was no way I was falling asleep before Winter returned, but I didn’t want him thinking about me waiting here for him. I wanted him to stay out with his brother if that was what he wanted.
Winter was no fool and he wasn’t fooled by what I’d said. “Max and I will have other time together. You sure you don’t wanna come?”
No. “Yes.” I smiled. “Go. I’m good.”
He took a moment, turning that over in his mind before nodding. “Okay.”
As he headed for the door, I called out, “Your dad would be proud of you and Max. He would have loved today.”
He slowed and looked back at me. He didn’t say anything, just looked. And then he was gone, and I let my tears fall. Not because of what was happening between us, but because of the torment I’d seen in his eyes.
I ordered a burger and fries, and cheesecake for dinner. Total comfort food I’d normally not eat. A terrible choice because I felt bloated and sick within a few hours. Not the kind of sick that made me vomit, just the kind of sick that made me need to lie down and pray for divine intervention.
I’d been lying down praying for a good half hour when a text came in.
* * *
Unknown number: Matt and I are in the hotel lobby. Wanna have a drink with us?
* * *
Max.
I frowned at the fact Winter hadn’t texted me, but felt too ill to really question it.
* * *
Me: I ate too many carbs. I don’t feel well. Otherwise I would come down.
Max: You need anything?
Me: No, it’ll pass. But thank you <3
Max: Let us know if you change your mind and want something from the chemist.
Me: Will do xx
* * *
I dropped my phone on the bed and closed my eyes as waves of cramps took over my stomach. I knew they’d pass, but that could take anywhere from fifteen minutes to hours. I should not have eaten all those carbs.
The only good thing to come from this was that my focus was taken off thinking about Winter. And so I spent the next forty-five minutes breathing my way through cramps and nausea. That was after I rummaged through my bag and found the pills I took when this happened. I should have looked for them earlier, but my mind was such a mess I hadn’t thought of it. Thankfully they worked, and just over an hour after Max texted, my phone sounded with another text. However, when I reached for my phone, there was no text. Weird. Then, another one came through and I realised Winter must have left his phone behind. When it rang, I located it on the bed and found the name King on the caller ID. I knew King was his club president. Figuring it might be important I answered the call.
“Hello,” I said.
“Winter there?”
“No, he left his phone in the hotel room. He’s downstairs, though, so I can get him to call you back if it’s important.”
“It is. Get him to call me back ASAP.”
The line went dead and I stared at the phone wondering if King was always that abrupt.
Pushing up off the bed, I slid on my shoes, grabbed the room key, and headed downstairs. It was almost 10:00 p.m. and the lobby bar was quiet. Max’s voice led me to where he and Winter sat drinking.
Max saw me first. Smiling, he said, “You’re feeling better?”
Winter’s gaze met mine and he leaned forward, waiting for my answer. Even when he was mad with me, he couldn’t stop caring for me. It was right there in his eyes.
I nodded. “Yeah, I found some drugs.” Holding Winter’s phone out to him, I said, “King called. He wants you to call him straight back. Said it’s important.”
Winter stood and took the phone. “You sure you’re feeling better?”
I gave him a reassuring smile. “Yes.”
He nodded at Max. “Stay. Keep him company while I call King.”
I took Winter’s seat and watched him walk towards the front doors of the hotel, the phone already to his ear.
“He’s going to come around, Birdie,” Max said, drawing my attention to him. “He just needs time.”
Max always had been the sensitive one. Where Winter was the take-charge one of them, the arrogantly masculine one, Max sensed emotions more. They were both very observant by nature, but Max felt his way while Winter had a tendency to force his way. It meant Max read people in a way Winter sometimes didn’t. This wasn’t the first time he’d talked me through problems with his brother.
“How is he?” I asked, hating that I even had to. Hating that the distance between Winter and me created that need.
“I think he’s lost. Between Dad’s death and what’s going on between the two of you, plus the stuff he and I have had come up, I think he’s struggling because he’s out there trying to cope with his grief, and his anger, and his confusion on his own. I spent last night talking with him, letting him get stuff out, and while I think it helped, he needs to talk some more.” He gave me a knowing smile. “We both know, though, that Matt isn’t the kind of guy to want to do much talking.”
I gave him a knowing smile. “That trait runs in the Morrison men.” I pulled my feet up under me on the seat to get more comfortable. “Because Winter and I haven’t been talking, I’m not up with what’s going on between you guys. Has something else happened since the day you read the will? I mean, I don’t expect you to give me a blow-by-blow; I’m just wanting to understand what else Winter has going on his mind.”
Max drained his glass of whisky and leaned back into his seat. Exhaling heavily, he said, “We had a blow-up on Sunday. Over Mel. I shared some stuff about my marriage with him and he told me what he thought of my choice to fight for it. Nothing was said that we both weren’t aware the other was thinking, but I told him if he can’t support me, I don’t want him in my life.” As I stared at him with surprise, he added, “All my life, I’ve felt the weight of Matt’s expectation and high standards. And Dad’s. I can’t do it anymore, Birdie. I won’t do it.”
Oh, Max. I’d forgotten just how much I adored Winter’s brother. Max was the son more influenced by his mother, while Winter had been heavily influenced by his father. I’d watched over the years as they’d each done inner battle o
ver their differences, and how their similarities had always brought them back together. And how they’d held tightly to the other because of their fierce family loyalty.
“You know he only has those standards and expectations because he wants the very best for you, don’t you?”
His chest rose and fell as he inhaled deeply. “Yes, but what he has to understand is he can’t force his wishes for me onto me. I want what I want in life, and Matt needs to stop demanding more or different from me. Unconditional love has no conditions. No limitations. No expectations.”
He was right. I’d watched him and Winter struggle because of Winter’s rigid expectations. My man was exactly like his father—stubborn, opinionated, and demanding. They both challenged those they loved to be better and to do better, but Max wasn’t wrong when he said Winter had been a little too hard-line at times. That was something he’d learned from his father.
“So I’m taking it you two have talked this out,” I said.
A smile played on his lips. “You said it yourself; neither of us are big talkers, but yes, we found our way.”
“I’m glad. I hated seeing you guys going head to head.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly, thoughtfully. “Dad would have hated it, too.”
A sharp pain of shared sorrow hit me. A death always reminded me of how both the big and little things could trigger the “Dad would have hated that” or “Mum would have wanted this for me” kind of thoughts. Winter’s dad would have wanted us to put our differences aside over what happened five years ago and get on with loving each other. I wondered if Winter was grappling with those thoughts. If I knew my man, he would be, because like he’d said at the funeral, his father’s lessons were ingrained in him.
Max’s gaze shifted past me. “Everything okay?”