Serendipity: A New Generation of Knights

Part 1: Ch. 15. Broment

"Oh my god, Winter," Autumn spat. Her hands flailed erratically as she jumped away from him in a sudden desperate attempt to escape his touch. "Please. Just stop."

Winter took a step back, his face shifting between concern and surprise, back and forth for several seconds before he was able to speak.

"My love, I-"

Autumn interrupted him with a forceful sigh. "Please," she whispered, her head hanging low. She pressed her fingertips into her temples and drew in a deep breath as she turned away, willing herself to maintain her composure despite the overload she was experiencing in the moment. "I just need a little bit of time on my own. I'm sorry. I love you."

Her words spilled out just as quickly as the emotions cycled through her head. She was frustrated, her phone kept vibrating, she was hungry, she missed her son, her bladder was being kicked every two seconds, could feel her pulse bouncing in her chest... she knew she needed to bring herself to a calmer state, and Winter's usual spiel of reassurance was only making things worse.

"Okay," Winter nodded, his hands fidgeting in nervous fists at his sides.

He stood in place for a moment, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet, watching her. He knew she needed her space and her time, but before he tried to leave, he stopped in the kitchen to grab her some things. After quickly rummaging through the fridge and the pantry, he brought a bowl of pomegranate seeds, a protein bar, and a water bottle to the table next to where she sat.

"I love you," Winter spoke softly.

Autumn's head was buried in her hands as she sat on the edge of the couch, but she nodded against her palms in response, her hair bun bouncing atop her head.

This was nothing new to either Winter or Autumn. They both knew what it was like to be overwhelmed and overstimulated, and they had gotten rather good at recognizing when it was happening for the other. Recently, however, with Winter hovering a lot more out of worry for his wife, Autumn found herself very irritable and pointing her frustrations at him. She didn't mean to, and she usually recognized what she was doing. But at 36 weeks pregnant with new, earlier due date looming, a two year old at home, and a business to run, despite Winter and everyone else's best efforts to ease her off in her last few weeks of pregnancy, irritants piled high.

Winter lingered wordlessly for a few more moments before turning to leave the house. Once last glance over his shoulder assured him she was still in the same place, and her phone was sitting on the table in front of her in case they needed to reach each other.

He strolled down the road slowly, also taking the time to appreciate being alone for a moment. He knew Autumn would call if she needed him, and their son was busy spending the afternoon with Grandma and Grandad. Alone times like this were already few and far between, and their scarcity would only increase with the arrival of their daughter in just two weeks. So he took each step slowly and deliberately while his mind wandered on his way to a nearby park.

As he approached his destination, Winter noticed a familiar figure standing exactly where he was headed. The tall, lanky frame stood underneath a tree on the hillside, the sun shining against his blond hair.

"You too, huh?" Winter spoke, placing a hand on Reece's shoulder as he approached.

"Me too?" Reece replied, his brow furrowed as he looked over to the other man.

Winter stepped up next to Reece and moved his hand, placing it into his sweatshirt pocket instead. He looked at Reece, a knowing expression on his face.

"Kicked out?" Winter asked.

Reece looked Winter in the eyes, pursing his lips as he debated admitting what happened, then he rolled his eyes and turned back to look at the scene before him.

Both men stood on the edge of a hillside, overlooking a small playground and nature park. That hillside had been Autumn's favorite place to be and think outside the house since she moved there on her own several years before. Reece had found the place entirely on his own when he and Marjorie moved there just a couple of years ago. Neither one of them knew about the other's use of the space, and Winter was actually quite surprised to find Reece there.

Reece sighed, dropping his head down as he kicked at the rocks around his feet, his hands deep in his pockets.

"She said she didn't want to see my face right now," he muttered softly.

"Sounds about right," Winter replied with a stern nod. "Poor girl is feeling miserable, I'm sure. Same thing for Autumn."

Reece remained silent as he drew lines in the mud with the edge of his shoe. Winter didn't know Reece that well, but he had picked up many things over the years that were very similar between Reece and Autumn. And as he peered over at the other man's face, it was clear to Winter that Reece was really struggling with what was going on in the moment.

"You know she isn't intending to be mean, right?" Winter asked, side-eying the other man.

"I mean, yeah," Reece huffed defensively.

He stood up straight to match his defensive tone, but a quick knowing glance from Winter evoked a defeated sigh as Reece relaxed his shoulders once again.

"I know she doesn't mean it, but I still worry, of course," Reece huffed.

"I get it," Winter nodded, looking out towards the scene before them as he swayed lightly back and forth. "It happens with your sister, too. Though I imagine Marjorie is a bit more, erm... dramatic."

"God," Reece spoke, rolling his eyes at the truth of the statement. "Never say that to her though. And definitely don't tell her I agreed."

"Tell her what?" Winter asked facetiously as he looked to Reece with his brow raised.

"That I- oh," Reece began to speak, but when he turned and realized Winter's sentiment, he nodded.

Winter moved his hand across his lips in a gesture to mean "my lips are sealed".

"Thank you, Winter," Reece sighed.

The two men stood quietly, taking in the view before them. Both of their lives would be changing again soon, and moments like this would be coming fewer and farther between, but they enjoyed the silent solidarity, an unspoken promise between the two of them that they would be there for each other in times like this.