I tried to push my anger away. I tried like hell, but it circled and refused to dissipate, until finally it caused me to snap and unleash a holy hell of ugly emotions. “At this point, I don’t really care what you think, Birdie, because when it fucking mattered, you didn’t think about what we needed; you only thought about what you needed.” I jabbed a finger to my chest. “What I needed five years ago was the truth and a woman who refused to walk out when the shit hit the fan. And what I need right now is exactly what I told you this morning, some space. Do you think you can fucking give it to me?”
Her face flushed as her emotions surged. “No, I’m not giving you space. I was going to, but then I realised that this”—she motioned back and forth between us—“is what we need. You need to let all your anger out. Yell at me. Throw your hurt at me. But don’t you dare shut down on me, because then we get nowhere.”
“Fuck!” My eyes bored into hers. The fury I felt was on a level I’d never experienced with Birdie. It was wild. Ferocious. It was ripping me apart from the inside. I wanted to tear it from my chest and never fucking feel it again. And yet, I was doing the complete opposite; I was allowing it to consume every fucking inch of me.
“Winter—”
I took a step towards her. “Tell me why, Birdie,” I demanded, not recognising my own voice or the snarl in it. “Tell me why the fuck you threw it all away. We had ten fucking years behind us; why would you think the truth could wipe that history out?”
She swallowed hard. “I couldn’t take away your chance at having kids. That’s why.”
“Not good enough,” I snapped. “There are other options; IVF, adoption, fostering. Did you consider those?”
“Yes.” Her voice cracked. “I didn’t want my mistake to force you into a corner with fewer options.”
“You didn’t want to fucking tell me what you’d done,” I thundered. “Your guilt broke us up. That’s what it came down to. Ten years thrown away because you didn’t have it in you to admit what you’d done.” I shoved my fingers through my hair. Fuck, I was wild. Livid. I wanted to make her hurt as much as I hurt.
Tears tracked down her cheeks as she nodded. “You’re right, but there was so much more to it. It killed me to think you might never be a father. I—”
“You should have let me worry about that. You should have told me what you did and let me deal with it. Because I fucking would have, Birdie. I would have stayed right by your side and found us a way to have the family we wanted.”
Birdie closed the distance between us, coming too fucking close for my liking. My breaths came hard, fast, and furious as she said, “I know that now. I know I made a huge mistake, Winter.” Her eyes pleaded with me to understand, but I wasn’t in an understanding mood.
I stared at her for a long, dark moment in which I wondered again how the fuck I’d ever move past what I was feeling. “Tell me how long it’ll be until you run again. Tell me how long you plan to stay this time.”
My words didn’t just crush her this time; they fucking slayed her. She scrunched a handful of my shirt, torment carved into her face. “I’m not leaving you, Winter. I promise you. I’m staying and I’m fighting for us. I love you.”
I worked my jaw, wanting to believe her, but stumbling like fuck over her promise.
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?”