Page 207 of The Heart of Winter

"Maybe for him too? I know the psychologist told you all of this, but does that change the fact that you actually felt those emotions? During wars, people lived through nightmares, and the relationships that formed in those times often proved stronger than the ones built during easier days, when life didn’t test them as much. So maybe you don’t have to analyze it, break it apart psychologically, and strip those emotions of their authenticity, their value, and, most of all, their lasting meaning."

His eyes locked onto mine, as if he were trying to look straight into my soul.

"If they wish, psychologists can see pathology in everything. That’s their job, to find problems and offer you solutions. Everything can have an unhealthy side. There are plenty of psychologists who think True Mate bonds are unhealthy. Should I care?"

I sighed and lowered my head. "Dad… I’m older than him. I don’t know if it’s right for me to chase after him, trying to convince him of anything."

"Chase after him? Is this about pride, Winter? Or about love? About doing what’s right? Don’t look at it like a matter of honor. And did you ever consider that maybe you don’t need to convince him of anything? That maybe he’s already sure of what he wants?"

"He called my name, you know? Just before we were separated in the airplane. And I ignored him."

Dad’s gentle eyes were on me, no judgment. Just support.

"I’m going to lie down, Dad. I feel awful," I whispered.

He placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I can feel it, Winnie. Just how deeply sad you are. How much you miss him, suffer… it eats at you."

He said it in a particular way, putting emphasis on the wordsuffer, like he was trying to highlight it, draw my attention to it, but I wasn’t in the mood to guess what he meant.

Sighing deeply, I slowly turned away, left him there, and went to my room to lie down on the bed.

The dreaded emptiness was back, and it wrapped itself around me. Heavy, overwhelming. The kind I didn’t want to exist in anymore. And when I closed my eyes, I saw them: those laughing, mint-green eyes.

I found myself smiling at the image, involuntarily.

That was the only thing getting me through another night alone.

***

Two days later, I went back to work. The moment I walked through the door, I was met with applause, handshakes from my employees and fellow executives. They even threw a small welcome-back party in my honor. Jacob wasn’t present, he was still away on business, negotiating with government officials, securing the contract for the Strong Start app.

Everyone called it a miracle, said it was unbelievable that I had been rescued after such a catastrophic crash. They said it was like something out of a movie and bombarded me with questions about what it was like, how I survived. I answered carefully, keeping it diplomatic and small-talk-friendly.

But Sariel wasn’t there.

Did he need more time to recover? To ease back into work, into the gray normalcy of everyday life?

What happened next was a bit awkward. Since I was reclaiming my previous position, Manager Lorens had to step down. Thankfully, he didn’t seem upset about it. I got the impression that running the department had been too much for him. He didn’t have the right personality for it, he got caught up in minor details easily, and he hated making reports and evaluations.

The other problem was, Lorens was basically forced to share duties with Manager Durden, and they weren’t the smoothest team, having rather opposite personalities.

But he’d done a decent job leading the Beta Activation Program’s app development, so I didn’t have much catching up to do there.

A little while later, my Japanese business contacts reached out to me, offering their condolences for everything that had happened and expressing their hopes that our collaboration would continue.

I quickly reassured them that everything was fine. Even if it wasn’t.

Because I missed Sariel.

But I played my part. Smiled. Acted normal. Just like always.

***

The next day passed quickly.

And that ache inside me only grew, like an unrelenting tide.

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