Kissed by Winter [Discontinued]

20. She Was Worth The Wait

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I have re-written this chapter a billion times. Still not completely satisfied, but it is strong enough to take the plot forward. Persons below the age of 18 are warned. Chapters from this point on may get steamy. If you feel you cannot handle it, KINDLY SKIP. Vote, comment and share <3 <3 <3 JPC

She hadn't said a word to him!

It was surprisingly odd for him to leave for work without a brown paper-bag. He'd only had that sort of convenience for two weeks (A/N: Made a change in chapter no. 18 – Sounds Hinky. Kindly note the timeline shift) and yet he missed it.

"Nick, I hope it is all right if she stays with me for a couple of days." He just stood there, staring blankly at his father-in-law's crestfallen face. Lyanna could not be more prepared to leave the hospital and Nick's company.

"It's my mother's death anniversary, and considering that it's what triggered her asthma attack, I feel she should be with us. I'll drop her around next Monday." Richard continued. Nick felt like he wasn't even made a part of that decision. She quietly put her stuff in her father's car and patiently waited for Richard to join her.

Nick was right next to her when she told Richard all about what had happened. Turns out Nick's outburst had nothing to do with Lyanna's condition after all. After the argument and Nick's dramatic door-slamming, Lyanna quietly went to her room. Weary from the day's events, she opened her cupboard and tried to fish out her fluffy comforter. As she retrieved it from the shelf, a picture flew away from its folds. It was a picture — the only picture she had — of her grandma holding a chubby two-year-old Lyanna in her arms. She had last seen this picture twelve years ago. It was almost as old as the comforter, which originally belonged to her late grandfather. Lyanna didn't know if it was the unshed tears from her grandmother's funeral, Patricia abandoning her soon after, or Nick's harsh words from a few minutes ago that triggered it. But after years of holding back, the woman cried inconsolably. She walked out of the room to fetch a glass of water when her breath suddenly grew shallow. Her fluttering hands came in contact with the vessels left on the counter as she stumbled for balance. She didn't have a pump and the phone was nowhere in sight. She managed to walk towards Nick's room and spent whatever energy she had left in knocking at the locked door before everything turned blank.

Nick felt some amount of guilt leave his shoulders. But that didn't change one fact. He won't be seeing her for nine days!

She was discharged on Saturday evening. It had been a two days already and Nicholas found that hard to believe. It felt like months, years even. Come Tuesday, the day of grandma Collings' death anniversary, Nick surprised himself by sending a huge orchid bouquet addressed to the Collings and also by ringing the residence. He hadn't called all this while but he'd be lying to himself if he thought he did not care.

"She is...resting." Richard had said.

He could hear a muffled conversation before that reply came. She didn't want to talk to him.

"OK then. I'll see her on Monday." Nick asserted Monday before cutting the call in case anyone thought of changing their minds.

He doesn't trust me with his daughter anymore.

By Wednesday, Nick grew restless. She wasn't just going to stay cooped-up in her father's mansion. He won't have it. They were still married, and she had to hear him out like a mature human being. He fetched his car keys and left right away. It was just after lunch time, and he realised he'd have to wait for another four hours.

She was worth the wait.

***

The cloudy Seattle day was making her uneasy. Lyanna dreaded unpredictable weathers. She stretched her arms above her head hearing a satisfactory crunch marking the end of today's labour. She bade goodbye to Teddy (A/N: Theodore McCoy, Summer's father) who was talking to the parents of a fluffy little shitzu. Chris, their family driver, would be here any minute. The forty-seven-year-old man was impeccably punctual. She walked out of the building and waited on the sidewalk, her uneasiness somehow increasing. As if on cue, the clouds roared and broke out into a cry. Within seconds, all the roads were being pounded by an angry rainfall. She made a movement to go inside, but her gaze fell upon the car parked bang opposite the sidewalk. It was familiar and so was the person who stepped out of it, shielding his eyes from the remorseless onslaught. He shut the door and slowly stalked toward her. She was rooted in her spot, completely drenched from head to toe, when he came to a halt in front of her.

"You'll catch a cold," she pleaded with her voice.

***

Four hours seemed to pass like four seconds when he saw her. Stuffing a file in her bag, she stepped out of the building adjusting her eyes to the gloomy Seattle skies. She wore a wine red satin shirt which was neatly tucked in a black knee-length skirt. She had loosely secured her hair at her nape and was currently fidgeting with the curls that were beating against her face, courtesy of the strong winds.

What I could do with this woman!

He could watch her all day.

From the corner of his eye, Nick noticed a fat droplet of water rolling off his windshield. He retrieved the keys and pushed open the door just as the rain started. His eyes unmoving from her profile, he stalked toward her with utmost ease. Her satin shirt was absolutely sodden on her body, and his white cotton shirt too couldn't withstand the rain's assault.

"You'll catch a cold."

The four words were more than anything she had said to him in four days. But she was still not looking him in the eye. On their own accord, his hands came around her face.

"Hey," he said encouraging her to look him in the eye.

She looked up, to find him smirking above her. What was that smile?

"Don't bite me this time, closet girl."

She frowned, puzzled as to what he could mean before his lips descended on hers. His one hand came around her waist, pulling her closer to him and the other made its way to free her hair from the clip at her neck. Her bag slipped off her shoulder as she stood there helplessly quivering because of the cold rains and her husband's hot kiss. She clumsily tried to grab his collar or else she'd buckle into a heap. His hold on her tightened and they stood there amidst a blur of passing moments and some curious pedestrians.

A/M: Guess who got the first book in the Outlander series?