wintumn - their love.

22.

TW - mentions of eating disorders, suicidal thoughts. 

As they sat down at one of the small tables in the service station, Autumn took a tentative bite of the sausage roll. The warmth of the food was comforting, even if her appetite was still mostly gone. Winter sat across from her, his eyes never leaving her face, watching for any sign that she was feeling better.

Autumn felt the pressure of his gaze and looked up at him, her eyes still red from crying. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm such a mess right now. I don't know how to pull myself together."

Winter reached across the table and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. "You don't have to apologize, Autumn. We're going through this together, remember? It's okay to not be okay. You don't have to be strong all the time."

She nodded, feeling a fresh wave of tears welling up but trying to hold them back. "I just... I don't want the girls to see me like this. They deserve better."

"They deserve their mom, just as she is," Winter replied softly. "And right now, they just need you to be here, with them. We'll figure out the rest as we go."

Autumn swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words sink in. She knew he was right, but it was so hard to see past the fog of her own emotions. She felt so lost, so disconnected from everything she used to be.

After a few more bites of the sausage roll, Autumn leaned back in her chair, feeling a little more grounded but still fragile. "I'm scared, Winter," she admitted, her voice trembling. "I don't know how to be the mom they need. I don't know how to be... me anymore."

Winter stood up and moved to her side of the table, sitting next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. "We'll find our way, love," he said quietly. "One step at a time. You don't have to do it alone. I'm here, every step of the way."

Autumn closed her eyes, letting herself lean into him, feeling the comfort of his presence. The warmth of his body against hers was a reminder that she wasn't alone, that she had someone who would stand by her no matter how lost she felt. They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other in the quiet corner of the service station, finding solace in the simple act of being close. Eventually, Winter kissed the top of her head and whispered, "Let's get you home. We'll figure this out together."

Autumn nodded, feeling a little stronger with him by her side. She stood up with him, and they walked back to the car, hand in hand. The drive home was still quiet, but it felt less heavy, the air between them filled with a sense of cautious hope. When they finally arrived home, Winter helped her inside, and they settled onto the couch. The house was quiet, the girls were still asleep, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Autumn felt a tiny spark of peace. She rested her head on Winter's shoulder, closing her eyes as exhaustion began to take over."I love you," she whispered, the words filled with gratitude and vulnerability.

"I love you too," Winter replied, holding her close. "And we'll get through this, together."With those words, Autumn finally allowed herself to relax, knowing that no matter how hard things got, she wasn't alone. And for now, that was enough. Autumn's days began to blend into a haze of despair and numbness. The guilt over her recent struggles with alcohol and the fear that she was failing as a mother gnawed at her constantly. She found herself withdrawing more and more, barely able to keep up with the daily routines, even as she tried to put on a brave face for Winter and the girls.

The thoughts started creeping in slowly, like shadows at the edges of her mind. At first, they were fleeting, almost whispers—ideas she quickly pushed away. But over time, they grew louder, more insistent. She started to feel like a burden, like the girls and Winter would be better off without her. The idea of just not being there anymore began to feel like a release, a way to finally escape the overwhelming pain and emptiness that had taken hold of her.

She became quieter, her smiles rarer and more forced. The energy she once had to mask her inner turmoil was waning. She began to struggle with the simplest tasks, finding herself staring into space for long stretches of time, her thoughts spiraling into darker and darker places.

Winter noticed the changes, of course. He saw the way her eyes had lost their spark, how she seemed to be going through the motions without really being present. But every time he asked if she was okay, she would brush it off, giving him the same rehearsed answers that she was just tired, that she was trying to figure things out.

The real signs, though, were subtle but telling. She began to withdraw even more from the things she used to care about. Her journal, once filled with thoughts and feelings, now lay untouched. She started to lose interest in eating, skipping meals more often, her frame becoming noticeably thinner. The once-vibrant woman he knew was slowly fading, and it terrified him.

Autumn also started avoiding mirrors, unable to face the reflection of the person she had become. She hated what she saw, the hollow eyes, the lifeless expression. The weight of her own self-loathing was becoming unbearable. One evening, as she stood in the bathroom, staring at her reflection, the thoughts became too loud to ignore. Tears streamed down her face as she gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles turning white. She felt like she was drowning in her own mind, suffocating under the weight of everything she couldn't control.

Winter noticed the long amount of time she was taking in the bathroom and knocked on the door, concern etched on his face. "Autumn? Are you okay in there?"

She quickly wiped her tears, forcing herself to speak in a steady voice. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll be out in a minute."

But even as she said the words, she knew they were a lie. She wasn't fine, and she didn't know how much longer she could keep pretending. That night, as she lay in bed next to Winter, her mind raced with the dark thoughts that had been haunting her. She felt trapped, like there was no way out, no way to make things right. And the more she thought about it, the more she began to believe that maybe everyone would be better off if she just... disappeared.

Winter, sensing something was wrong, wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "I love you, Autumn," he whispered, his voice filled with concern. "We're going to get through this, okay?"

She nodded, but the words felt hollow. She knew he meant them, but she couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he was wrong. Maybe there was no way out of this darkness. As she lay there in his arms, she felt a deep sense of dread, knowing that these thoughts were only growing stronger, and she didn't know how much longer she could fight them.

an - 

please if your struggiling, reach out. you are loved and im here if you need to vent. 

before you decide to do anything, call someone. 

lifeline (australia) - 13 11 14 

emergency services (australia) - 000

emergency services (UK) - 999

the samaritans (UK) - 116 123

emergency services (worldwide) - 112 

please if your struggiling your not alone. 

take care. 

elle