Gone in the kind of permanent way that still didn’t feel real some days. Gone in a way that made birthdays feel cruel instead of celebratory. Gone in a way that left Cyren carrying grief so heavy, she had convinced herself she had to do it alone. But somehow, today, her extended family, and a man who’d quite literally walked into her whirlwind of a life, had made space for her pain without making her ask for it.
When Nicole passed, Cyren felt like she did as well to some family members. Some she’d been really close to growing up had just disappeared, and that hurt her beyond words. Heavy showing up today in more ways than one, nearly broke her down where she stood.
As soon as the song ended, Cyren locked her phone and slid it into the back of her shorts. Muttering a quiet excuse me, she rushed out of the room and toward the basement, where she knew a bathroom was.
The second she pushed the door closed behind her, everything she’d been trying to hold together came apart. A broken sob ripped through her chest as she gripped the sink, and her breathing turned uneven, almost instantly.
Air moved in and out of her lungs in short bursts that never felt like enough. Tears blurred her reflection as she stared at herself in the mirror, trying to calm down but failing miserably.
“Oh my God…” she cried, pressing a shaky hand against her chest.
She couldn’t breathe.
Or think.
Her body trembled under the pressure of too many emotions colliding at once. Grief. Gratitude. Relief. Sadness. The overwhelming realization that Heavy had acted on something so close to her heart, something casually said while drunk, was dangerous. And powerful. Fucking terrifying. He hadn’t justlistened; Heavy heard her. No one had heard her in a long time, and he’d actually done something to remedy it.
Tears dripped onto the counter as she struggled to catch her breath. Crying harder, she almost missed the soft knocks interrupting her spiral.
“Cyren?”
Her cries quieted for a second at the sound of his voice.
“Yeah?” her voice cracked.
“You good?” he asked, waiting. “Can I come in?”
She covered her mouth as another sob escaped her. Embarrassment mixed with everything else she was feeling. None of that mattered because she wanted him near.
“Y-yes,” she cried through trembling breaths.
Heavy slowly opened the door, stepped inside, and locked it behind him. His chest visibly rose with a deep breath before cracking open at the sight of her tears soaking her cheeks faster than she could wipe them away. Cyren’s watery gaze connected with his, and her breathing stuttered all over again.
“It’s not fair,” she cried, breaking down harder. “It’s not fucking fair.”
“C’mere,” he softly urged, closing the distance between them.
Heavy pulled her into him without hesitation, and Cyren folded into his chest like she’d been waiting all night to just exhale. She clung to him, feeling safe enough in his embrace to fall apart. Her cries came harder now, muffled against his shirt as his hand moved up and down her back in slow strokes.
“It’s okay. Get it all out,” he murmured, though they both knew that was a lie. Wasn’t shit okay right now, but it would be. Eventually. Even if for a moment. “Just breathe for me.”
Cyren shook her head against him. “I-I c-can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” His voice stayed steady and calm.
Heavy pulled back just enough to tilt her chin up. “Look at me.”
Her lashes were clumped together from tears, with her chest still rising too quickly.
“Breathe in,” he instructed.
Cyren tried.
“Slow.”
Her inhale shook.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “Again.”
