Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
CERYS
“ H ow bad is it?” Nick asked.
The ancient computer whirred and clicked, its fan struggling against the damp air as I refreshed the weather page for what felt like the hundredth time. Outside, the storm raged on, a relentless beast of wind and rain that battered against the farmhouse windows.
“Fuck,” I muttered, my fingers drumming an anxious rhythm on the worn desk.
The room smelled of damp wood and musty papers, the scent of an old house caught in the grip of a storm it wasn’t quite ready for. Much like me, really.
Nick hovered over my shoulder, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his body. It was distracting, to say the least. I fought the urge to lean into him, to seek comfort in his familiar presence.
Old habits die hard, I suppose.
“That bad, huh?” His voice was low, tinged with worry.
I kept my eyes fixed on the screen, afraid of what I might do if I looked at him. Our last argument still rang in my ears, the finality of it all threatening to suffocate me.
“Worse,” I said, clicking through the tabs on the weather site. Each report was bleaker than the last, thresholds blinking an angry red. “The river’s already breached, and it’s not showing any signs of stopping.”
Nick shifted beside me, and I could practically feel the tension rolling off him. It was almost funny how in tune I still was with his moods, even after all these years. I pushed down the warmth that threatened to bloom in my chest at the thought.
Instead, I glanced out the window, watching as the storm began to devour everything I knew. Meins’s fields were shrinking under the weight of the water. Some of the lower-lying sections had already disappeared completely.
“We’re surrounded,” I said, more to myself than to Nick. “No getting out tonight.”
“Fuck.” He blew out a long, frustrated breath. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “I really don’t have time for this.”
I turned my head and glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“This,” he waved towards the window, his gesture encompassing not just the storm, but the entire farm. “I have plans. Commitments. Important ones.”
“You think I don’t? Meinir built this place from nothing. She deserves to know her home isn’t about to wash away.”
Before he could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening. “Just a minute,” he muttered, stalking off to the far corner of the study.
I watched him go, noting how his shoulders tensed as he answered the call. Even from across the room, I could hear the voice on the other end exploding from the speaker, a mixture of panic and disbelief.
“What the fuck did that text mean, man? You can’t miss this!”
“I know, Tommy.” Nick ran a hand through his hair. “But there’s a bloody flash flood, and I’m stuck at the farm. I might not make it back for the gig.”
My teeth ground together as I listened. Of course it was about the band. It was always about the band with Nick.
Tommy’s voice crackled through the phone again. “What do you mean stuck?”
Nick’s voice became more measured, but I could hear the underlying fear. “It’s the last thing I want, but you need to find a backup drummer just in case.”
He turned, catching my eye for the briefest of moments. My stomach did a little flip, a confusing sensation given my rising frustration. I turned back to the computer screen, trying to focus on the reports instead of the way Nick paced.
He hadn’t stopped moving, but the movement was all wrong — too jerky, too quick, like he was wound too tight to stand still. Every few steps, his phone buzzed again, and each time, his hand clenched tighter around it before he swiped it silent.
He was spiralling. Not in some loud, over-the-top way, but in that quiet, frantic way I remembered from when things got overwhelming in school. It grated on me to see him like this now, knowing I’d have to step in if it didn’t stop.
I didn’t want to be the one to ground him.
Not after everything.
The whole room felt smaller with him in it, his panic pressing against everything.
I picked up my phone and slipped out of the study, dialling one of the farmhands as I went.
“Cerys, my love. I’d say it’s good to hear from you, but I have a feeling this isn’t a social call.”
I winced at the teasing note in his voice. Declan had hit on me more times than I could count over the years, but I’d always turned him down. Still, he never seemed to lose hope.
“No, it’s not. That thunderstorm’s turning into a full on flood.”
“Aye, I see it,” Declan gruff voice crackled through the line. “We already secured the equipment.”
“Oh, good. What about the sheep? Are they on higher ground today?”
“Not yet, but we’ll sort it.”
For a fraction of a second, I relaxed. “Great, thank you. Be careful out there.”
“Don’t you worry about us. We’ll get it done.”
I ended the call and immediately dialled Meins.
“Cerys, cariad! Are you alright?” Meinir’s voice was warm with concern.
“I’m fine, Meins. Just checking you’re safe. Where are you?”
“Oh, I’m at Malcolm’s in town. High and dry, don’t you worry.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. We’ve got everything under control here.”
There was a pause, and I could practically hear the slyness in Meinir’s voice when she spoke again. “And how are things with you and Nicky?”
I rolled my eyes. “Really, Meins? That’s what you’re worried about right now?”
“Well, a little flood never hurt anyone. But you two... have you made any progress?”
I lowered my voice, just in case Nick walked in. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do, but you’ve misread the entire situation. Nick doesn’t want me. He’s made that pretty clear.”
She chuckled. “Oh, cariad. I may be old, but I’m not blind. That boy looks at you the same way he did when you were teenagers.”
“You’re seeing things that aren’t there,” I said, but I couldn’t ignore the way my heart skipped at her words.
I hung up, shaking my head. As if Nick and I could ever... No. It was better not to even think about it.
I walked back into the study and found Nick still pacing, each lap of the room quicker than the last. His hair was dishevelled, likely from running his hands through it repeatedly, and his boots clunked against the creaky wooden floor, the sound grating on my already frayed nerves.
He hung up his call, but he didn’t stop moving. His shoulders were drawn so tight it looked like he might snap, his eyes darting to the window, the desk, the phone still buzzing in his hand.
“Everything alright?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Nick glanced up, his blue eyes stormy with worry. “Not really. The label exec is in town. If I miss this gig...” He trailed off, resuming his pacing with renewed vigour.
I watched him for a moment, torn between sympathy and frustration. We were in the middle of a crisis, and all he could fixate on was his career? But then again, wasn’t I doing the same with the farm?
I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to snap at him. Maybe it wasn’t fair to expect him to handle this the way I would. But watching him unravel, with all that restless energy and nowhere to put it, made something inside me twist.
The Nick I remembered was calm, steady, always in control. Seeing him like this was... unsettling. And infuriating. Because now, I had to be the one to steady him, whether I wanted to or not.
He finally stopped, sighing heavily. “This gig could change everything for us.”
“Is your rock star life more important than people’s safety?” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my voice. “Because really, what are your options? If you go out there, you’re just pulling the emergency services away from helping people who actually need saving.”
He spun to face me, his eyes flashing. “It’s not that simple, Cerys.”
“It’s always that simple with you, isn’t it?” I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze squarely. “You disappear for months, chasing your dreams, but when it really matters here, to the people who actually gave a damn about you before... you’re nowhere to be found.”
His face twisted, a mix of guilt and anger flashing across his features. “That’s not fair.”
I laughed, the sound harsh even to my own ears. “Right. Because you’ve never let anyone down for a gig before.” The words tasted bitter as they spilled out, but I couldn’t stop them. Not now.
His eyes narrowed, and he took a step towards me. “If you want to get into all that again...”
“Actually, I don’t,” I cut him off. “What I do want is to stop the house from being flooded out while you sulk.”
“I’m not sulking,” he growled, closing the distance between us.
He was close enough now that I could smell his cologne, a mix of citrus and spice that made my head spin.
“And I said it’s not that simple, alright? I want to help.” He drove a hand through his hair again, and I hated how attractive I still found the gesture.
“I need you to stop panicking and... and...” I paused, letting my eyes roam over him deliberately. “...and maybe put that gym-bro body to some actual use.”
He blinked, clearly caught off guard by my sudden change in tone. “What, uh... what do you need me to do?”
“Sandbags,” I said abruptly, brushing past him. The brief contact sent a jolt through me, and I hoped he couldn’t hear how my shoulders stiffened. “You remember how to handle that, don’t you?”
Nick followed close behind, his presence a constant, maddening awareness at my back. “Yeah, I’ll do whatever you need.”