Hurricane Hearts

by Nina Levine

  When I pulled my phone out, she said, “What are you doing?”

  “I’m ordering you an Uber.”

  Panic flared in her eyes. Grabbing my face, she pleaded, “Don’t shut down on me. I know you love me. Fight with me and let me fix this!”

  I pushed her hands from my face and stepped back from her, every cell in my body hyperaware of the fact that we were too fucking close. She thought we needed that closeness; I knew we needed the complete opposite. “Fuck, Birdie, I am fucking fighting, but trust me, you need to let me do that in my own way. We won’t come back from this if you don’t.”

  I stabbed at my phone, ordering an Uber. The sooner I got her out of here, the better. I needed her as far from me as possible. Otherwise, I really would hurl my hurt and anger at her. And she wouldn’t like the ugliness that came out of my mouth.

  I met her gaze as I slid my phone back into my pocket. The devastation I saw in her eyes matched the devastation I felt. I never imagined we’d find ourselves in this kind of hell, and I knew, surer than I knew anything, that I would have to dig deeper than I ever had to get us out of here.

  25

  BIRDIE

  A change of weather swept in the morning of Winter’s dad’s funeral. Cold wind gusted through the trees, causing temperatures I hadn’t packed the right clothes for, but I barely registered the chill in the air because the chill coming from Winter was ten times worse.

  Not that I blamed him, but still, having never experienced it before, my anxiety spiked to high levels. Winter had been angry with me many times while we’d been together, but he’d never told me he needed space. He’d never closed himself off the way he had now. He’d never not come home after a fight. It not only left me unsure of how to deal with the situation, it also left me confused as to my place here today. I wanted to support him, but I wasn’t sure if he wanted me anywhere near him. The fact he hadn’t returned to the hotel last night, leaving me to make my own way to the funeral, only caused me to question myself more.

  I should not have gone to him last night. I’d known that all day yesterday, but as the hours had ticked by, I’d muddled my thinking to the point where I couldn’t make a good decision if I tried. I’d been desperate to talk to Winter. Desperate to right my wrong. The thing I’d realised this morning after spending the night thinking over everything he’d said to me was that I could never right this wrong. Never. All I could do was give him time and space to come to terms with it. And hope like hell he didn’t choose to walk away.

  He was right about my guilt. God, he was right. I’d walked away from our relationship because I truly didn’t want him to suffer the consequences of my mistake, but if I were completely honest with myself, my guilt had played a huge factor in my decision. I also hadn’t been thinking straight. Losing my baby and the ability to fall pregnant naturally had gutted me. Destroyed me. Mind, body, and soul. Especially since I hadn’t had the one person I needed to help me deal with that devastation by my side. None of any of that made for clear-thinking decisions.

  “Birdie.”

  I turned at the sound of Max’s voice and found him coming towards me. I’d arrived at the crematorium fifteen minutes ago, which was an hour early for the funeral. I hadn’t been able to sit in the hotel room a minute longer, and Winter hadn’t responded to my text asking him if he was coming back before the funeral, so I’d called an Uber and come early. It hadn’t been the best idea, though, because the wind had whipped around me for the past fifteen minutes, chilling me to the bone.

  Max pulled me into an embrace and then rubbed his hands up and down my arms. “You’re freezing.” Then, glancing behind me, he said, “Where’s Winter?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him or heard from him today.”

  He frowned. “I saw him earlier and he was on his way to the hotel to pick you up.”

  “I texted to ask him his plans, but he never replied.” My voice wavered as I said, “He didn’t come back to the hotel last night, which I figure you already know. I couldn’t sit alone for another second, so I came here.”

  He gave me a knowing look as he shrugged out of his jacket and passed it to me. “Here, take this. I’ll go and check in the car to see if we have a spare coat.” The look in his eyes turned meaningful as he added, “His phone battery is dead. He wouldn’t have received your text, and we both know my brother isn’t the best at picking up the damn phone and telling anyone his plans.”

  My breathing slowed as I processed what he said. I’d run so many scenarios through my mind this morning, but not one of them had been this one. That was because I feared the choice he’d make about us once his anger calmed enough for him to think straight. My fear caused me to imagine the worst. I hadn’t stopped and considered his phone might have died.

  Today is going to be a long day.

  Looking behind him, I said, “Where are Mel and the kids?”

  “They’re here. Mel just took the boys to the toilet.” His attention drifted behind me again for a brief moment before he looked at me again. “I won’t be long.” With that, he took off back the way he’d come.

  I scanned the area for what felt like the hundredth time, looking for Winter, but he was nowhere to be seen. At least I knew he was on his way. Some of the tension in my body eased knowing that.

  After waiting for Max for five minutes, growing more fidgety as I stood looking for Winter, I headed in the direction Max had left. I was thankful for his jacket, but the wind had picked up and the chill was worse, so I was still freezing cold.

  As I rounded the corner of the crematorium into the car park, the familiar rumble of a bike sounded. My gaze cut to Winter as he pulled his bike into a park. Unable to do anything but stand and stare at him, I took in his every move, not missing the moment he laid eyes on me.

  My tummy fluttered with nervousness while those same nerves raced across my skin.

  Should I go to him?

  Or wait here?

  I took a step in his direction but instantly halted.

  He wants space.

  But he needs me today.

  Does he really?

  He told you what he needs is space.

  Give the man what he asked for. Let him come to you.

  “Oh God,” I muttered, running my fingers through my hair like I always did when I was nervous. I didn’t know what to do and this not knowing was doing my head in.

  Winter walked my way, his body tall, his shoulders pushed back, his masculine energy blazing like it always did as he took purposeful strides. He wore black from head to toe. Black boots. Black jeans. Black button-down shirt. Black leather jacket. Black sunglasses that hid his eyes from me.

  I stood absolutely still and waited for him to reach me, my entire body a knotted mess of anxiety.

  Before he’d even come to a stop in front of me, he shrugged out of his jacket. When he reached me, he held it out. “Put this on.”

  The gravel in his voice did what it always did even though today was not the day for it. I pushed the need I had for him aside and said, “Max has gone to look for a coat for me.”

  He continued to hold his jacket out for me. “Whatever he finds won’t be warm enough.”

  “Winter, it’s cold. You need—”

  He worked his jaw. “Take the jacket, Birdie.”

  His tone left no room for argument, so I took his jacket with a soft, “Thank you,” and put it on. He stood silently watching me. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I had the feeling he watched me like I was all he saw.

  “Matt,” Max said from behind me, breaking the moment between Winter and me.

  Winter lifted his chin at his brother, but didn’t say anything, his attention coming straight back to me.

  I passed Max’s coat to him as he took in Winter’s jacket I wore. He had no spare coat with him, but he didn’t mention it. Max knew his brother well; he knew I was taken care of.

  Looking at Winter, Max said, “The funeral director is waiting for us. There’s something
he needs to go over again.”

  Winter gave a quick nod, still watching me. My feet felt like they weighed a tonne and I couldn’t lift them. I didn’t know whether to go with Winter or not.

  As Max left us, Winter said, “I’ll meet you inside.”

  I gulped down my uncertainty and nodded. “Okay.”

  He watched me for another moment and then took off after Max.

  I stared after him for a long time, until I couldn’t see him any longer. But while I couldn’t see him, I could feel him. Everywhere. Last night it was like he didn’t want to even look at me; this morning, he seemed to not want to take his eyes off me. And he didn’t have to put a hand on me to touch me; his presence alone marked me.

  I took my time gathering myself and then I made my way into the chapel, slipping into a seat in the second row, behind where Melissa and the two boys sat. Winter would probably want to sit in the front row with Max, but I’d wait and see, and move with him if he made that choice. For now, I needed to be by myself and focus.

  Funerals weren’t my thing. Not at all. They made me think of my father, and while he’d died a long time ago, grief had no timeline. Sometimes the memories were so strong it felt like he’d died just yesterday.

  The chapel filled up slowly. By the time Max took a seat next to Melissa in front of me, there was only standing room in the back. Winter’s father had been a respected member of the community, and I hadn’t expected anything less.

  I glanced around to look for Winter, figuring he wouldn’t be far behind his brother. His eyes met mine as I turned. He’d removed his sunglasses and I now saw the intensity with which he watched me. Gone was the fury he’d burned with last night, and in its place was a fierceness I was unsure of.

  He stopped at the second row and motioned towards the first row, indicating he wanted me there with him. When I stood, bringing my face close to his, I saw the grief in his eyes too.

  My heart cracked for my strong man and as I exited the row and he placed his hand to the small of my back to guide me into the first row of pews, that crack grew.

  Never again would I lie to him or keep secrets from him. Winter deserved more than that.

  I sat next to Max who looked up at Winter and then back at me with a smile. Taking my hand, he squeezed it before letting it go again and directing his attention back to his family.

  Winter sat next to me, his muscular body only just fitting in the space he had. In an effort to make more room for him, I attempted to squish myself closer to Max. Winter had other ideas, though; his hand landed on my leg and he gripped me, letting me know to stay put.

  My gaze shot to his, confused as to his change of heart from last night.

  Looking at me, he said gruffly, “I need you, Angel.”

  Those four words meant the world to me. They also killed me. Winter wasn’t the kind of man to ask for help. That he had, showed me his struggle.

  Nodding, I said softly, “I’m not going anywhere.”

  His eyes searched mine for a beat and then he looked straight ahead.

  We sat in silence for the five minutes before the funeral started. I did my best to avoid looking at the casket or the large photo of Winter’s dad that had been printed on a canvas and displayed on a large easel to the right of us. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to look; I wanted to stay strong for Winter, and I knew if I looked at his father’s photo, I would break down.

  Winter’s body tensed more than it already was when the minister started talking. The next half hour would feel like the longest half hour of his life. I knew that from experience.

  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.