Part I
1
Winter
* * *
I rest my shoulder against the doorjamb of our bedroom en suite and watch my wife as she does her hair. She’s so engrossed in what she’s doing that she doesn’t notice me. Either that, or she’s deep in thought about what the day ahead holds that she doesn’t realise I’m watching. Whatever the reason, I’m glad; it gives me this time to slow down, take the breath I need, and soak Birdie in before our lives change in a way I’m not sure either of us are ready for.
“What are you thinking?” she asks as she finishes with the hairdryer.
“That you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do today.” I push off from my spot and walk to her, our eyes meeting in the mirror.
My heart kicks over faster when her face sparkles with the kind of smile that grips me hard. “You say that nearly every day, Winter. I mean, I’ll take it, but—”
Reaching around, I silence her with a finger to her lips. “No buts. It’s true, angel. But today there’s something different about you. You’re softer somehow.” I bend to kiss her bare shoulder before looking at her again. “I like it.”
Her smile stays put, and she glows with whatever is causing the softer emotion blazing from her. It’s enough to damn near make me bend her over and fuck her, but Birdie’s on edge about sex today, refusing to allow me anywhere near her. Something about not wanting to mess with our chances during the IVF cycle we’re embarking on. It’s bullshit—the doctor has advised sex is okay at the moment—but when my wife gets an idea in her head, she’s stubborn. And I refuse to fuck with her flow so I’m not arguing with her.
Keeping her eyes on me, she runs her fingers through her hair. “How are you feeling about everything? Like, really feeling?”
We’ve talked about what lies ahead for what seems like nearly every minute of our time together the last few weeks. I’m talked out, but I know Birdie isn’t. If she had her way, we wouldn’t sleep; we’d stay up all night talking about it some more. I love her like I’ve never loved anyone, so I’ve stayed patient with it all, but at this point, I’m ready for action, not more discussion.
Spinning her to face me, I cup her cheek and brush my thumb over her lips. “You know how I’m feeling.”
Her eyes flare and she pulls my hand from her face. If her expression is anything to go by, I’ve pissed her off, but that’s not a given because Birdie’s emotions are all over the place, and with each passing day, I struggle to get a handle on them. One minute she’s up, the next down, and fuck knows what will trigger her. “Don’t do that.” The barb in her tone lets me know I’ve definitely upset her.
“We’ve gone over this a thousand times—”
“Yes, and I want to go over it again. You’re always so sure and so calm when we discuss it, while I’m over here, flailing around like I’m trying to stop myself from drowning. Some days it takes more effort to breathe than others, Winter, and I’m just wondering if I’m the only one here feeling this way.” Her hands come to my chest and she grips my shirt. “Tell me I’m not alone in this worry, and confusion, and feelings of inadequacy.”
My arms go around her without thought and I pull her tightly against me. “You’re not alone, angel. I feel those things, too, but I refuse to give in to them. We’re going to get through this appointment today and tomorrow we’re going to get started on making a baby. I’ll be by your side every step of the way, and when you’re feeling worried or confused or inadequate or anything, I’ll be there to do whatever you need me to do to help you believe again. Because we will get through this, Birdie. Together. And just so you know, you are as fucking far from inadequate as you can get. Just because we need help getting pregnant doesn’t fucking make you inadequate.”
Tears fill her eyes as she hooks a hand around my neck, stands on her toes, and kisses me. It’s not a quick kiss; it’s the kind of touch I’ve been craving from her since I woke up, and fuck if it doesn’t stir need deep in my gut.
When she lets me go, I say, “You wanna kiss me