Winter contemplates that deeply before nodding. “Okay.”
“Thank you,” Claire says and then looks at me. “Tell me about the guilt you feel, Birdie.”
My tears turn into sobs at her question, and I realise just how much guilt I feel. Winter’s arm comes around me and he holds me while I open up. “I was anxious for seven straight years. I worried about the smallest things. About every damn thing. I blew stuff way out of proportion and refused to have hope some days. It all felt too hard and too much for me to cope with. I feel like all of that stress must have surely contributed to my inability to fall pregnant and also to the miscarriages I had.” I take a deep breath. “I feel guilty that I took away Winter’s chances at becoming a father”—I ignore the soft curse word he drops—“and while deep down I know he doesn’t feel that way, I can’t help how I feel over it.”
“Have you heard of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, Birdie?” Claire asks as she offers me a tissue.
I take the tissue and wipe my tears. “No.”
“It’s a therapy where you’ll learn to accept what is out of your personal control, and commit to action that improves your life. It’s a mindfulness-based therapy that I think will be helpful to you.”
“Okay.”
She smiles and I feel her warmth wash over me. She then begins working her magic, and by the time our first session is over, I fully believe we’ve found the person to help guide us back to each other. To guide us back to ourselves.
Winter pays the bill and then takes my hand to walk me out to the car. When we reach my door, he moves into me, backing me up against it. His hands come to my face and he slides them into my hair. He watches me for a few moments before bending his face to mine and kissing me. Slow and deep, I feel every ounce of his love in this kiss. When he finishes, he rests his forehead against mine and says, “I love you, angel, and I will keep coming here with you for as long as it takes us to move through this.”
My soul takes the breath she’s been refusing to take for a long time. The breath I didn’t even know I was missing.
I grip his shirt. “Thank you.”
He lifts his head and looks at me. Torment clouds his eyes. “I miss Max.”
My heart stops beating for a moment; I’m sure of it. This is the first time since just after Max died that Winter has said that to me. “Me too.”
He doesn’t say anything else before he opens my door and helps me into the car. He doesn’t need to, though; those three words are enough.
We drive in silence for five minutes, his hand on my thigh, my hand on his. Finally, I say, “Why did we think that right after a therapy session would be a good time to go on a date?”
“Fucked if I know.” He glances at me. “What do you wanna do?”
I’m absolutely drained and could sleep all afternoon. “Is it bad if I say I wanna lie down with you all afternoon?”
His lips pull up at the ends. “You think I’d ever have a problem with spending an afternoon in bed with you?”
“Well, I actually meant sleeping. I should have known your mind would go elsewhere.”
“It’s got no other place to go if you’re involved. So you want me to take you home?”
“Yes.” I suddenly remember Maddox and pull out my phone to check if he replied to my message. “Wait, can we drop by Maddox’s place first?” When Winter looks at me, I add, “I need to know he’s okay.”
Winter indicates to change lanes. To go to Maddox’s house. “Okay, angel, let’s see what’s going on with this kid.”
Thirty minutes later, we reach our destination and make our way to his front door. Maddox opens it and I know instantly that he’s not okay. It’s in the dullness of his eyes. He gives me a chin lift. “Yo, queen, what’s doing?”
“Queen?” Winter says, sounding like he’s not sure of Maddox’s use of the word.
Maddox gives Winter his bored look. “Yeah, she’s a queen.” He changes when he’s around Winter or any of the other guys. He straps his boy armour on and hides his vulnerable side. That’s okay; I get it. But it means I won’t reach him with my usual ways, so instead of saying what I want to say, I go with, “You wanna come play mini golf with us?”
Winter, God bless him, doesn’t respond in any way.
Maddox says, “What? Now?”
I nod. “Yeah.
“I’m broke as fuck,” he says.
“Our shout,” Winter says, and I really, really, really want to throw my arms around him and show him how much I love him. But I don’t. I’ll save that for later.
Maddox shrugs like he doesn’t really give a shit how he spends his time. “Sure.”
When he goes inside to get his shoes, Winter turns to me, his brows arched. “Mini fucking golf?”
I smile sweetly. “You love me.”
With a shake of his head, he says, “I’d love you a fuckuva lot more right now if I wasn’t staring at hours chasing a fucking ball around when I should be staring at tits and ass.”
Standing on my toes, I kiss him. “You really love me.”
“I fucking do and don’t you forget it. Now get your ass in the car.”
We head to the car and Maddox joins us a few minutes later.
As we drive, I avoid the questions I want to ask him, because I don’t think he’ll open up to me with Winter in the car. Instead, I say, “Is Eloise home at the moment?”
“No, I haven’t seen her in days.” It concerns me that he’s fending for himself while he’s got no money. I know he’s been doing it for years, but that doesn’t make it right.
Winter eyes him in the rear-view mirror. “You got everything you need at home while she’s not there?” I love that he’s thinking the same thing as me.
“Yeah, I’m good,” Maddox says.
After we arrive at the mini golf centre, pay, and get set up, Winter says to Maddox, “You ready for Birdie to whoop your ass?”
Amusement crosses Maddox’s face. “She’s never played me.”
“Oh,” I say, loving this turn in conversation, “really? You think you’re good, do you?”
He grins. “I fucking know it, queen.”
Winter lifts his chin at the course. “Show us what you’ve got.”
We spend the next forty-five minutes watching Maddox show us his mini golf skills. He didn’t lie; he is good. The other thing that happens in these forty-five minutes is that Winter and Maddox loosen up with each other. By the end of the course, they’ve started ganging up on me.
I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun.
“Maddox,” Winter says as we make our way to the car after the game, “you got plans for lunch?”
I slip my hand into his. I love this man so damn much.
“Nah,” Maddox says.
“You do now,” Winter says. “And after lunch, if you’re free, I could do with a hand cleaning out my gutters.”
Maddox nods. “Sure.”
As we drive home, Winter and Maddox carry on a conversation about football. They discover they both support the same team and seem to have a lot to discuss about something their team did last year. I love football, but I don’t jump into this conversation; I want them to have something they talk about just between themselves.