Wind

The wind blows one door shut, but it always blows another one opened…

By: Megan-Danielle



Nick walked into his house and softly shut the front door, setting the alarm. He dropped his keys onto the table in the foyer, followed by his wallet, and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water.
He set the glass into the sink and stared out the window that looked down his driveway and into the trees on the opposite side of the street. It was finally over.
He softly and slowly walked upstairs and into his bedroom where he opened the closet door and turned on the light, slightly closing the door to steer the light away from the bed, careful to not wake up the sleeping figure on his bed.
He sat on the chair in the closet and slipped off his shoes, slipping them into their place on the rack. Nick then stood up and slipped off his slacks, followed by his tie and dress shirt and slipped into a pair of boxers, keeping on the undershirt that he already wore.
He turned off the light and tiptoed to the bed, sliding into the covers and up to the woman who was already asleep, thankful that the full day of meeting after meeting after meeting was finally over. Upon Nick's touch, the girl awoke and slid up in the bed, pulling him closer to him, hugging him tightly as if the world were about to end and the only thing to stop it was their touch.

"I tried not to wake you," Nick whispered as he buried his head in her chest that was covered by his Buccaneers jersey.
"It's okay, I tried waiting up for you, but I got too tired, so I came up here and fell asleep," she replied.
Nick glanced over her shoulder at the clock, 3:48 it read in bright, bold letters that seemed to burn through the darkness and into his retinas.
"It's all over," he said quickly.
"I know," she replied.
"There's no more Backstreet Boys," he said for the first time.
"I know," she said again.

All of the legal documents had been signed that day, through a series of conferences with all of the important people. One by one, the guys signed over their name, their careers, their lives for the past fifteen years. It was a sense of déjà vu for Nick, remembering back to the last time he had sat in that room to sign similar papers, only those were the ones for their record contract back in 1994. He was fourteen, and here he was at 24, fifteen years after forming the Backstreet Boys, ending it all.
They laid there in silence for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was only a few minutes, before she said anything else.

"We're going to get through this, no matter how long it takes, we'll get through this, I'm sure of it. I'll be by your side every step of the way, no matter what, okay?" she asked.
"I know," Nick answered.
More silence.
"Brooke?" he had said her name for the first time that night, "Can I hold you?"
Brooke smiled, even in the complete darkness of the night, he knew it was there, he could feel it. She knew how much he loved to hold her, how he enjoyed feeling her in his arms, her small body completely enveloped by his.

She scooted down underneath the covers until her face was pressed against his chest, his warmth completely surrounding her, their love circulating together, creating an imaginary glow around them.

He pulled her closer, not wanting to ever let go, to just lay there forever, holding each other, because as long as they had each other, everything would be okay. No matter how bad their day had been, as soon as they were in each other's arms, all the pain seemed to go away, even if only for an instant, it didn't matter, because for that instant in time all they thought about was each other, and that was all that mattered. Brooke slithered her hands onto Nick's body, her right arm working its way underneath his side and resting on his back, her left arm wrapped around his waist. He could feel the coolness of her wedding band and engagement ring on his waist. The fact that she only removed it from her dainty, manicured hand when she bathed, or worked out, or cleaned, but never when she slept, saying that "even the characters in my dreams shall know about the one I love."

Nick soon heard the faint sound of her breathing, her chest slowly, but rhythmically rising and falling, her warm breath working its way through his shirt and onto his chest.

His mind soon began to wander back to the early memories of Brooke. A vivid timeline ran through his head of everything they had ever done together, all of their firsts, all of their lasts, everything. He could remember exactly what she was wearing the day that they met, what he was thinking, everything. Nick thought about the day that he had met Brooke, three years earlier. He was coming home from a party at Howie's Orlando club when he rear-ended her, three in the morning, totaling her car. He hadn't even seen the silver Cougar, much less the brake lights, it was a foolish mistake, but the best one he'd ever made. He remembered the way her blonde hair blew across her face in the Florida breeze when she stepped out of her car. He remembered that she had on a black skirt that hit a little about the mid-line between the tops of her thighs and her knees and the crimson v-neck sleeveless shirt that stopped ¾ of an inch above the top of her skirt. She had on black slides and a silver necklace, matched by silver studs, her high school class ring, which he found immature yet cute, and a silver watch.

What had impressed him the most with Brooke was the way she immediately asked if he was okay, even though he was the one who had hit her. Her voice was filled with concern, probably due to the fact that he was frozen where he was standing; her beauty had overcome him.

After establishing that they both were fine, the matter of the vehicles came up, her car was certainly not in driving condition, and his needed major repairing. After much conversation, they agreed to not file on insurance, but to simply pretend the incident had never happened. Nick suggested he meet her at a local car dealership the next morning and buy her a new car, which was easier than having to hassle with insurance companies. At eleven am the next morning, Brooke drove off the lot with a brand new Dodge Durango, much like Nick's.

They exchanged phone numbers and began to date, around the schedule of the Backstreet Boys of course, and around her schedule of being an architect. They went months without seeing each other before meeting for a weekend or over holidays. They might have seen each other once a month, if they were lucky, but their relationship still lived on.

Brooke stirred in her sleep, turning over on her other side, leaving her back against Nick's stomach and curling into a little ball, his arms still wrapped around her. She mumbled something unbeknownst to Nick who watched her for a moment, then went back to his memories, picking up this time with when he had asked Brooke to marry him.

It had been a year earlier from this particular night, not exactly, but close enough. He had blindfolded her and took her on a long ride to a secluded beach. She had worn denim jeans and a light sweatshirt, which was his, due to the cooling temperature of the beach air at night. He had candles set out around a blanket in the sand and a bottle of champagne, two glasses sitting on either side of it.

After a few hours of sipping the champagne and staring at the stars, Nick looked into Brooke's eyes and calmly said, "We've been together for two years, and I don't want to ever be with anyone else, will you please marry me?"
After the shock had worn off, Brooke managed to nod her head yes through the tears as he slipped the six-carat princess cut engagement ring onto her finger. The look on her face was priceless, and one he'd never forget.

Nick smiled to himself, remembering the stress of planning the wedding, getting it perfect, and keeping it a secret. It took a lot of late nights on days off and over the phone conversations to agree on everything, but it paid off four months later when they were wed.

The coolness of the air was a delight as the guests settled into their seats, awaiting the High Mass Catholic ceremony that was to take place under the 28 live oaks on the Oak Alley plantation in Vachrie, Louisiana. The paparazzi had every church in Tampa, where they lived, Beverly Hills, where Nick's parents lived, and Houston, where Brooke's parents lived, awaiting the secret ceremony, but they fooled them all by having it with her dad's side of the family in south Louisiana, free of press.

Nick watched as his little brother and best man, escorted Brooke's maid of honor down the isle, followed by his four band mates and Brooke's four closest friends down the isle. Followed by the flower girl, who was Nick's little cousin. The wedding march started and Nick's face lit up as he spotted Brooke standing with her father at the opposite end of the isle. She looked gorgeous. Her snow-white wedding gown consisted of two thin spaghetti straps with a tight corset-like top and a slightly puffed out skirt with discreet pink stitch work around the bottom and white diamond-like rhinestones on the straps. The ceremony lasted forever, but the reception was worth it. It was like something Nick had never seen. Raised Mormon, he had no idea about Catholicism or how it worked, but he had agreed to the Catholic wedding because it was what Brook had always dreamed about. The reception was a combination of the traditional, such as the first dance, the toasts, and the cutting of the cake, but there were also the Cajun touches that Brooke had thrown in, given her Cajun heritage which consisted of the "money dance" where people dance with the bride and groom and pin money on them for good luck, the perog, which is really like a small canoe, filled with ice and beer, and the Zye De Co music that was played in the background. They had also hired a DJ for the slow songs, especially their first dance together, which was sang by Deanna Carter Herself, a song off of her first album entitled, "That's How You Know it's Love."

Brooke had insisted not booking their flight for that afternoon, but taking the red-eye instead. Nick couldn't understand why until the reception, which lasted late into the night, he had never known a wedding could be so much fun.

Nick had booked their honeymoon, and Brooke had no idea where it would take place until they arrived at the airport. Nick had booked a two-week stay on the island of Fiji, which was where Brooke had said she had wanted to go for senior trip, but she only had enough money to go to Aruba, but it was just as much fun.

The two weeks away from life as a Backstreet Boy, and the life of a popular architect, was pure Heaven. Neither of them had to worry about deadlines or interviews or wake up calls or anything, they were just together enjoying the weather, the beaches, and each other.

The vacation was soon over and they returned to their hectic lives. Brooke began working on a huge deal for a three-story home while Nick entered the process with the other four guys of ending the Backstreet Boys. Here they were, eight months later, lying in each other's arms during their first night of not having to be a Backstreet Boy, or a Backstreet Boy's wife. It was a lot easier than Nick had thought it would be. He didn't feel guilty for ending what he had always hoped and dreamed for. He felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. Granted, he did enjoy the days of the concerts and interviews and fans and the performing, but he had outgrown it, as did the other guys. He would never lose his passion for music, and he would never fully leave it behind. Nick didn't think about it as giving up the first thing he had ever loved, he saw it as closing the cover on one portion of his life, and opening the door on another. They had grown as individuals, they had grown as musicians, they had done it all, achieved it all, and now all they wanted was a life of their own.

Kevin and Kristin had been married for five years and were pregnant with their second child. Brian and Leighanne had just given birth to their first. AJ and Amanda had been married three months ago and were contemplating whether or not they wanted to start a family yet. Howie had finally met that special someone and was planning their wedding. They weren't boys anymore, they were grown men who were starting families of their own. They didn't want to miss their children's first steps, or first words, or potty training. So they ended the group, it was a mutual feeling that all five of the guys had wanted, and it was done. There was no going back now.

Nick ran his hand down from Brooke's waist to her stomach, feeling the slight bulge that was starting to appear. She was in her third month and about to end her first trimester with their first baby. She was already saying that she could feel the baby moving around inside of her, like butterflies. Nick knew it was a girl, he just knew it. Kevin and Brian had both had little boys, but Nick could feel it inside of his heart that he and Brooke would have a little girl and name her Riley Creigh Carter…it was only a matter of time before she graced the world with her presence. Nick softly laid his head back down on his pillow, pulling Brooke closer to him, relishing in her warmth, and softly drifting off to sleep, completely stress-free, for the first time in fifteen years.


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