Page 134 of Reverie

“First, slow down, H,” Winter says. Her tone sounds as if she’s struggling to gather as much patience as she can.

“Sure,” I reply. Then I head to the closet to gather her empty suitcase.

With the rolling bag in my hand, I grip the handle to keep myself tethered here in this moment.

One foot in front of the other.

I shouldn’t be surprised to see Winter at the threshold when I turn around, but I am unprepared for the stony silence she gives me for several tense heartbeats.

She decides to break it after eyeing me down for an uncomfortable minute.

“Don’t speak to me that way ever again, Hunter Brigham.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You gave me orders like I was an errant child or an animal. You will not speak to me that way.”

The silence is heavy.

I want to say, “I’m sorry,” but there’s so much that I’m so incredibly sorry for, I couldn’t begin to note specifically what I’m apologetic about.

“Winter, let’s rest together for a bit before you leave. I want to hold you,” I say. I don’t recognize my voice with the gruff-ness lacing it.

She huffs, an uncontrolled sound. “Before I leave? I’m not going anywhere, H.”

I sigh and roll my eyes heavenward. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Because if she continues to push and push, I know I’ll break.

I need for our family to be safe, and I’m not a safe person for anyone right now.

I think about the bruises around her neck—the bruises I left.

I meet her gaze head-on.

“Hard? Hm.” She moves from the closet entrance and over to the bed. I follow, rolling the bag behind me. When she grabs the suitcase, I’m startled when she chucks it across the room, where it hits the door with a loudsmack.

“Hunter, let me tell you what will be hard. Having your baby all alone will be hard. Worrying every single day and night if you’re okay—if you’re alive or dead—will be hard. Not knowing what thefuckis going on is hard. So yeah. Go ahead and choose which hard we’re gonna tackle first.”

I absorb her words and stand up taller.

“Sunbeam, I’ve set everything up. You’ll have state-of-the-art medical care?—”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about what you’ve set up. I’m not going anywhere!” She screams at me.

“Sunbeam, calm down,” I say.

“Don’t you tell me to calm down!” She vibrates, enraged, and I take slow steps toward her, intent on grabbing her hand. When our palms touch, she squeezes my fingers for a second, but then she rips herself away.

“I’m not doing it, Hunter,” she spits back.

“If I have to drug you and drop your ass on the plane, I’ll do so.”

“Try it and see what the fuck happens, Hunter James Brigham.” Her voice is low and deadly serious.

“You threatening me, Sunbeam?”

She folds her hands over her chest. “No, baby. I’m promising you that whatever you’ve got in your head won’t fucking work. A non-starter.”