"Have you checked your phone?" Rosa asked, bursting into the room.
It'd been a little while since Camilla had sobbed all over her mum, but they were all sat together now, watching television as the calm settled between them.
That was until Rosa abruptly pushed open the door, eyes wide and her phone clasped in her hand. "Uh, no," Camilla replied in confusion, glancing at her mother who held a similar expression. "Why? What's wrong?" She hadn't switched her phone on since her mother had requested they all switched their devices off earlier. To be honest, she had completely forgotten about it.
Rosa's sharp intake of breath caught her attention. She stepped into the room and sat opposite them, clasping at what she could only determine as words to explain what was going on in her head. "Did you know Storm's mother was in prison?"
Camilla sat up a little straighter and nodded, "Yes, why?"
Rosa sighed, "He must have gone there today because somehow the media caught sight of it. And the fact that last night ... his mother hung herself. It's all over the news."
Her eyes widened at the sudden declaration and she had to take a moment to catch her breath. "She killed herself?" The thought of the woman she'd only spoken to a few days ago having killed herself completely flummoxed her. Why? Why would she have done that to her son? And to think that now, after all of this, everyone knew and it was so public was disheartening.
Beside her, Gabby cursed.
She couldn't imagine what he was going through right now and the fact that it was displayed all over the news when he had gone to lengths to hide his past away from the world. But then she recalled the fact that her phone was off and he must have called her when he heard the news. Camilla frantically reached into her pocket and switched her phone on, tapping the floor as she waited for it to ignite.
Once it did, there were two missed calls from Storm and a voicemail. "Shit," she whispered and stood up. "Mum, Dad. I need to go, okay?"
"Go," her mum chided her. "Storm needs you right now. Tell him we're here for him too okay?" Her father hummed in agreement and she reached down to hug them both, before she practically ran out of the door.
"I've ordered you an Uber!" Rosa yelled, just as the door closed. She was certainly thankful for her sisters-in-law quick thinking, because if it wasn't for that she wasn't sure what she would have done.
Camilla couldn't describe what went on in during the ride, but she jumped out of the car as soon as it was parked, managing to thank the driver as she did so. As she was in the lift, her fingers fumbled with her phone which she tucked back into her pocket – an overwhelming weight settled on her chest as she thought about how Storm must be feeling. At the thought of him finding out the news alone and she'd gone hours without hearing from him.
When she got to his flat, she knocked on the door. There wasn't an answer – not that she had expected one. She didn't have many options at that point so she twisted the knob instead and was surprised when it opened easily, but that wasn't her main concern at that moment. Camilla closed the door properly behind her and gazed around the flat – she could hear the wind against the windows but other than that, it was quiet.
The living room looked like it always did, except she noticed a bottle of half empty vodka was on the kitchen countertop. "Well fuck," she whispered, of course he'd had a drink. She'd have completely pissed herself if she was in his position.
Camilla walked to his room and pushed the door open, finding the man in question on the floor by his bed. She had always associated Storm with strength, because of both his height and broad physique. But in that moment, he looked like a vulnerable animal huddled in the corner. He was bent over, his elbows on his thighs and his figure hunched over. "Storm..." She whispered quietly but he didn't look up. He wasn't looking at her, he wasn't really looking at anything apart from the ground.
She walked forward and dropped to the ground beside him, pulling him against her. At first he didn't move but then his arms were around her waist and his face was buried against her stomach. His breath fanned her stomach and then his movements grew ragged.
Camilla brushed the strands of his hair slowly and didn't stop when he started to cry. The sobs started off slowly, a choked breath and then they seemed to rush out of his mouth; pouring over the room. She had never heard something so traumatic because the cries that tore out of his throat were so raw and pained that tears rose in her own eyes.
But still, with his arms around her waist, he cried. He didn't talk, he didn't stop and he didn't push her away. Storm just remained there, crying out his loss. Grieving for the woman that probably didn't deserve his compassion or sadness.
*
"Babe,' she murmured a little while later, once his arms loosened. "Let's lie down, okay?"
Storm pulled her to him and looked up, baring himself completely. His eyes were red, his eyes tired and she had never seen somebody look so heartbroken.
Despite this, he pulled her with him as he leaned down so that they were on the carpeted floor. Camilla was tucked in his arm but his face rested against her hair. "She's gone," he finally whispered into the darkness and she smelt the vodka on his breath. His breathing was ragged and he gripped her hand. "I didn't get to tell her everything I was feeling. I ... I didn't really hate her as much as I made out. She was still my mum at the end of the day ... and ... she killed herself, knowing that her own goddamn son hated her,"
"Storm..." she whispered, unsure on what to say.
However, he continued on, voice wavering. "She didn't call on Friday, like she normally does," he said and she recalled how he'd told her his mother would call twice a week. "Or on Saturday, her birthday and I was so fucking stupid. I knew that something was wrong, I could feel it somehow but I didn't go to check. Why didn't I go to check? Instead, I was agonising over our relationship and what would happen if you didn't call back. Instead of calling my own fucking mother I was thinking about myself. My own fucking g-"
"Storm," she repeated and turned towards him. She let go off his grip on her hand and wiped the tears that stained his cheeks. "I'm sorry," She felt responsible now, if only she'd called him sooner. If only she'd never used Craig and Rosa as an example of what their relationship would potentially turn into. If onl-
"No, no," he whispered. "I'm not blaming you. It doesn't matter what was going on, I should have been practical and realised."
Camilla placed her hands on his cheeks and forced him to look at her. With her heart pounding in her chest, she pressed a brief kiss against his lips. "Don't do that. Don't blame yourself. I don't know what happened, but I don't think you could have stopped it Storm, regardless of what you did."
He was silent, his eyes focused on hers until he blinked. "I need vodka."
"No, you don't." she retorted and wrapped her arms around his neck. She knew that right now alcohol helped with simmering the pain, but he was going to regret it all in the morning and it would just aid in helping him feel so much worse. "Lets just lie down a bit on the bed, okay?"
She went to stand up when Storm gathered her in his arms and pushed himself up with the support of his bedside table. He groaned for a split minute and she realised he must have been sitting there for some time to feel the ache in his joints. But he managed to straighten himself and pull them both in the bed, with the sheets tossed across them. Camilla realised she still had her shoes on so she kicked them off, hearing the thud they made against the ground.
"Those missed calls from this morning? They were from the prison," he announced after a few moments of silence. "I couldn't get through to them so I went down there, it turns out my mum had decided Sunday was the night to go through with it. She must have been planning it ... because she had everything, Cam. I mean, fucking hell ... she got something to cut herself,"
Camilla's heart shot up at his words. She wasn't entirely certain on what she had expected, but for some reason she hadn't assumed that's how his mother had gone through with it. She held his hand as he continued to talk, feeling the slight tremble.
"They found her in the morning. She'd slit her wrists completely and bled all over her sheets," his voice was raspy at this point and she imagined it was hard to even talk about it again. But she wondered whether he needed to talk it out. "By the time they found her, it was too late. They called me on the way to the hospital, but by the time I arrived, they already found out the results; dead,"
"I'm so sorry, Storm,"
He glanced at her for a split second and his lips tilted slightly, but it was more bitter than anything else. "Would have been my dad's birthday this morning. She killed herself the night before his birthday. Why would she fucking do that, Cam? She's just ... she's tarnished it in a way that won't ever be fixed."
Camilla moved closer to him and sighed, "I don't know,"
Storm's other hand dragged along her arm and she shivered, despite the situation and despite the heartbroken man before her. "Pokoysya s mirom." He finally whispered and although she wasn't sure what he had said, it sounded final.
At one point in the evening, they both fell asleep. With Camilla huddled against his chest and his arms wrapped around her, they floated off.
Camilla was the first to wake up. Storm was still beside her, his breathing slow and serene as he floated into an oblivion that only sleep could create. His arm wasn't as tight around her now, so she managed to climb out and head to the kitchen. There, she grabbed some Panadol and a large glass of water for Storm; he didn't drink, so she imagined he'd be feeling pretty shit when he woke up again.
Once she was in his room again, she placed the water and painkillers by his bedside cabinet and changed into a looser top – one of his in fact. By the time she'd finished, Storm was groaning as he awoke. His arm hit Camilla's side, feeling it empty and much to her surprise he shot up, until he noticed where she stood. "Morning sleepy," she said and climbed into the bed beside him. "I've left you a glass of water there."
His expression changed into one of relief and he gulped down the entire contents within just a few seconds. Since he couldn't have the painkillers on an empty stomach, she'd left a small energy bar beside it which he unwrapped and began to chew on, whilst running his fingers through his hair. "How are you feeling?" she asked.
He shrugged, "Okay, considering," he answered truthfully and turned to her. "I love you."
She smiled bashfully at his words, surprised with how heartfelt they sounded coming out of his mouth. "I love you too," she murmured in reply. "So hurry up and eat that, so you can take the Panadol."
As he ate, Camilla went back to the kitchen to fill up his glass. By the time she returned, the wrapper was discarded on the bed and the pills were in his hand. Silently she passed him the cup and he swallowed down the two pills, thanking her as he leaned against his headboard.
It was obvious that something was on his mind as they sat beside each other and it wasn't until he leaned over and showed her a piece of paper that she looked at him in questioning. "When they found her, this was all she'd left. A piece of paper," He'd folded it and it looked crumpled, but his tight grip on it wavered. "I can't read it."
Camilla glanced at the sheet, then diverted her attention back to him. "Do you want me to read it?" she was cautious with her tone, but when he nodded she let out a breath and unfolded the sheet.
It was all in English much to her relief, apart from a few words at the start and end. His mothers handwriting was messy, like she was rushing and Camilla had to squint to understand some of the words.
"If you've received this letter, I'm gone. And I'm sorry it had to be like this, Storm. From the moment my life went downhill when you were a child, I always knew this would happen. You and your dad were everything to me – even when he didn't want me, he was still in my life. Still there. And it made everything bearable. To you this won't make any sense, especially with what I did in the past to him but that's mental health, isn't it? It takes control of you, you don't even recognise what you're doing. And when he died, it felt like I couldn't breathe in that cell. It hurt to keep going on every single day but the calls I would make to you made it all worth it in the end. Just to know you would sit there and listen to your mother like that was more than I deserved,"
Storm choked on a breath beside her and she paused, her own eyes filling with tears at how intimate this was. "Go on," Storm rasped.
"From the beginning, I always knew that I wouldn't want to die in prison. It wasn't what I wanted, not for myself or anybody. But Storm, from the moment your dad died, I had my death planned. I knew what I would do, how I would do it and when I would do it. And I wasn't going to do it until I knew you were happy, until I knew that you were secure with your life. And sian,"
"Syn," Storm corrected immediately. "It means son."
"And syn, that was today. It was the first time you ever spoke to me on the phone and my heart ripped out of my chest. I felt every single emotion ever in that moment and I never wanted to let go. You told me that you were happy, in love and I've never been happier for you. Maybe it's selfish, but I was happy at the fact that I could finally let go. Because I'm tired of living in this life Storm, you were the only thing keeping me here. Just know that I love you, despite everything I've done and said, I love you with all my heart."
There was a silence that followed, but Camilla touched his thigh, squeezing it slightly. "I think she knew you loved her, Storm."
He merely scrutinised her for a moment, his dark eyes heavy and hollow, his jaw clenched and his expression tight. She realised this wouldn't secure everything he felt, nor change what had happened, but his mother had done something right by writing this letter. "Maybe she did," he whispered. "Thank you for reading it."
"You're fucking welcome, babe." She said with a straight face and was rewarded with a chuckle. He pulled her to his chest and engulfed her in a hug, his arms tightly wrapped her own.
The feelings of loss couldn't change overnight. It took time and the process hurt. But something as simple as an embrace were there to make it easier.
Note:
Alas, we have arrived. The second to last chapter - meaning the next is in fact the epilogue!
Question: What are your opinions on Storm's mother? Very curious.