That much I can tell.
Who. Is. This. Man? He changes in a flip of a coin. And the way he covers it up makes me think he doesn’t mean for the real parts to peek through.
“Hey, pretty boy, get your skates on and your ass out here. Emett is gonna hand it to you,” Exton calls out, making my son dance around happily at the idea of both of his favorite players on the ice with him.
Severin doesn’t even take a second to think about it because a moment later, his skates are on, and my son is on cloud nine.
I watch, mesmerized, as Emett gravitates toward the famous goalie. As he watches him like he’s hung the moon and the stars while Severin carefully explains something to him.
A gust of that icy wind hits me out of nowhere, beating against my heart as I watch them. How would it feel to have someone inour lives? How would it feel to give my son this one piece we’ll never have?
How would it feel to have a man like Severin fill that space?
It’s as if that same, relentless wind twirls around him, because right then and there, his eyes meet mine, his lips curl up. And the wind stops.
I suck in a deep breath, suddenly looking for more air, more cold, more something to wake up from a dream I’m falling into.
I can’t give in.
Because I’ve been at the eye of the storm once and while it’s nice here now. There’s always that second part you need to walk through.
No. No! There’s nothing real about his smiles. There are no secrets drawing me in. There’s nothing here at all, and I need to pull it together.
As soon as I make my final decision, a blast of icy wind slashes through the air.
Yeah, asshole, I don’t like it either. But it’s called life.
Jesus…I might really need to consider carving out money for some therapy if I’d started having conversations with the wind.
But the wind is the only one that ever listened. And now I need it to keep me away from the tornado that could end my life.
8
Chamomile and Honey
Severin
“Hey,Sava?Ithinkyou’re looking for the puck in the wrong direction.” Exton’s cocky tone draws my gaze from the side of the lake. “Miss Aurora doesn’t seem to be playing right now.”
Fuck, this isn’t real, is it? This can’t be happening. After all these years?
But it is. It is her. She’s the warmth. She’s the wind that made my soul crack.
It doesn’t matter…I tear my eyes away from the woman sitting at the edge of the lake and narrow them at Exton in a silentcut this shitlook but a childish giggle interrupts my intentions of wiping the ice with Exton’s face.
“Mr. Brick, Mommy doesn’t like hockey, so I don’t think you’ll ever get her to play.”
“Oh, I bet if anyone could make your mom come out and play, it would be Mr. Brick right here,” Exton smirks.
“Really?” The young boy’s eyes light up. “Do it! Please, do it,” Emett pleads, and I swear I’m a second away from killing my best friend.
“Mr. Axe is just kidding, kid. Let’s get back to hockey,” I say.
Emett nods solemnly and speeds away to run the drill again without another question as if he’s at least eighteen and not just shy of being five.
I wondered if he survived…I wondered all these years…
Maybe if I closed my eyes and went back to sleep this nightmare would end. I wish I could.
