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Prologue

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Birdie

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I slid the photo from his wallet and stared at it in surprise.

He’d kept me there all these years?

Looking up, I found him watching me intently.

He said the words I’d hoped he wouldn’t. “Come home with me tonight.”

A shiver raced across my skin. His voice had always done that to me.

I held his gaze and said, “No,” when I wanted to say yes and chase him to the ends of the earth. I’d always wanted to chase him there. I’d spent years making plans and dreaming all the dreams of a life together. But life has a way of beating the dreams out of us. Of forcing us to let them go even when we cling hard.

The taxi we’d shared from the airport slowed to turn a corner.

God, what were the chances of running into your first love after you’d both returned from different corners of the world? “Share a taxi with me,” he’d said after we’d caught up over a few drinks at the airport bar. I should have said no then, because with every passing minute, he drew me further into his orbit.

His fingers laced through mine. “If I could change the way shit went down with us, I would, Birdie. Fuck, I’d take back all my choices and make better ones.”

My heart squeezed and the pain that had never left roared to life. “Don’t say that. We know you wouldn’t. And I wouldn’t have wanted you to. Those choices were you, and I loved that about you.”

His features darkened. “You loved that I chose war over us? That every time I said I was done, I changed my mind and let you down?” The bitterness in his words slashed through the air. “Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, baby. I fucked it all up. Call it for what it was.”

Five years worth of my own guilt twisted deep in my stomach. He thought this was all on him when that was as far from the truth as you could get. I had my own stake in our ending, but it would kill him if he knew the truth. Or maybe I was more concerned it would kill me for him to know. For him to hate me for what I did.

He’d always wanted a child. Being a daddy had been higher on his list of goals than fighting for his country. And I’d fucked that up for us. Walking away from him had been for him, not about him. I wanted him to be the daddy he’d always dreamt of, and I couldn’t give that to him anymore, so I’d stayed away when he finally came home.

“I can’t do this…” My voice cracked, and I gulped hard as tears threatened.

If I could take back my choices and make better ones, I would. My choices had been far worse than his.

He moved closer, taking my face in his hands. Before I knew what was happening, his lips were on mine, claiming the kiss that could be my undoing. Because God knew, I’d thought about his kisses every single day I hadn’t had them. His kisses were everything, and this one was no different.

He set me on fire like he always had, and I felt myself falling down the abyss of need he’d always had a way of creating.

I still wanted him just as much as I had when I’d first fallen for him.

But I couldn’t have him.

Not anymore.

Not after what I did.

I pulled my mouth from his and pushed him away, thankful when I realised the taxi had pulled up outside my house. Ignoring the torment in his eyes, I said, “We can never go back,” and exited the taxi as fast as I could. Stumbling up the path to my front door, I prayed he wouldn’t come after me. My resolve wasn’t as strong as I wished, and I knew if he pushed for this, I could crumble.

As I stepped through the door, I glanced back at the cab. He stood beside it watching me. I held his gaze for what felt like forever, but neither of us moved.

When I finally closed the door behind me, I sagged against it and slid down to the floor.

Love was agony.

The choices I’d made that had ultimately destroyed us had been made for love. The first choice had been to save both of us. The second one had been to save him. And it had broken me in the process.

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** Please note the Winter & Birdie is being published in serial format monthly.