The Play

by Karina Halle

  And still she doesn’t wake up.

  Now I know, she never will.

  Eventually I’m worn down to nothing. I feel flattened out, weak, my heart too heavy now to even extract itself. The tears stop and I’m a numb, painful mess.

  I take in a deep breath, looking my mother over, hoping, wishing, praying. But it’s a lost cause.

  “You know mom,” I say softly, my mouth so dry it hurts. I take her hand again and hold it between both of mine. “I fell in love. Just as you said I would. With Lachlan.” Just saying his name to her makes my lips want to smile. “It was impossible not to. I guess I knew it from the start, but you know me. I refused to believe in that kind of thing…love at first sight, true love, crazy love that consumes you until there’s nothing left in you but love. The kind of love that you and dad had. I always thought it sounded horrible.” I let out a dry laugh. “And in some ways it is, because it’s a disease and it takes over your whole life and every cell in your body. It was like everything I did somehow related to Lachlan. He became my everything and my always. But…I guess even fairy tale love has a dark side. There isn’t always a happily ever after. The prince can seem more like the villain at times but…then again, so can the princess. Maybe that makes them right for each other. I don’t know. But I did love him, mom. I still do. I got to experience it fully. And then I got to lose it too and that was always my greatest fear. Losing that wild, beautiful love, the same love you had for dad. But now…now you’ll be with him again. And I know how happy you’re going to be.”

  I raise her hand to my mouth and kiss it softly. “I’ll see you again too, one day. And I’ll tell you all these things all over again. But I’ll make sure I’ll have something good to add.” A single tear rolls down my face and I wipe it away before standing up and giving her hand another squeeze. “I love you.”

  I turn and leave the room, heading out into the hall. Paul, Brian and Toshio are staring at me and Toshio immediately gets up to give me a hug, holding me tight. I thought I was out of tears but being in his embrace is enough to bring more out of me.

  “Your turn,” I whisper to him. I look over at Paul, at his red eyes and nose. “And then we all say goodbye together. At the very end.”

  Paul nods and Toshio pulls away, head down, looking so lost.

  “She’s waiting to hear from you,” I tell him, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Just try not to bitch about Sean too much, okay? She has a lot to process from five children already.”

  “She’s used to it.” He smiles sadly then walks off into the room.

  I sit down beside Brian and Paul and wait.

  I sleep curled up in a chair.

  Two p.m. rolls around, the twenty-four hour mark. Of course this is something that doesn’t have to follow an exact schedule or timeline. If we tell the nurses we need more time, they will give us more time.

  But we’ve all said our goodbyes now.

  The time is up.

  “Are you okay about this?” I ask Toshio gently as we head into the room with the doctor.

  He nods. “She’s not coming back. I know this now.”

  I put my arm around him, my head on his shoulder while we stand around the foot of the bed, staring down at her.

  We each offer our little goodbyes.

  I raise my hand, palm out, and tell her I’ll miss her every day for the rest of my life.

  I guess that’s not a little goodbye at all. It’s the biggest one you can ever say.

  The nurses go about, gently removing whatever things were keeping her alive. I know that we were told it could take a few hours or even a few days for her to pass away. The doctor had said our mother will go when she’s ready to go, it’s hard to know how long the body will cling to life for. But the heart monitor shows her blood pressure dropping rapidly. Her heart rate slows and slows and slows.

  She’s going.

  She’d been waiting.

  And we’re watching her leave before our eyes.

  And just like that, she’s gone.

  She’s really gone.

  The stillness of death lingers above the room.

  “I’m so sorry,” the doctor says and I know she means it.

  I sob against Toshio. Paul and Brian come over and we hold each other in a circle by the bed.

  “I love you guys,” I whimper, gutted. Absolutely gutted. Absolutely ruined. “You’re my brothers. And you’re my blood.”

  “We love you too,” Paul says softly. “It’s just us from now on. I’ll need you all more than I can tell you at times.”

  “Do you think she’ll be proud of us?” Toshio asks, sniffing hard onto his sleeve.

  “Always,” says Brian. “As long as we don’t forget what we are to each other.”

  “Otherwise both her and dad will deliver the smack down from up above,” I say, attempting a joke. We pull away from each other and even though their smiles are sad, at least they are smiling.

  I feel like I might not ever have a genuine smile again.

  We leave the room and look over my shoulder one last time at my mother.

  Gone from us forever.

  But so, so loved.

  I step out into the hallway.

  And Lachlan is standing there.

  I stop in my tracks, trying to see through the haze of my tears, to see if it’s really him or some sort of apparition.

  But my brothers all stop and regard him, wary, tired, and I know that he’s actually here. How can you not see a tall, inked, beast of a man standing in the tiny waiting area.

  “Lachlan,” I say, my voice raw. I can’t believe it. His beard has grown in more and he looks as tired as I feel, but he’s here. He’s actually here. How is this even possible?

  “I didn’t want you to go through this alone,” he says quietly. He opens his arms for me and I immediately rush into them, collapsing against his chest, my feet giving away. He holds me with strength I desperately need and I cry into his chest. So overwhelmed in so many, too many, ways.

  “I’m here,” he says softly, his voice gruff, sinking into my burdened soul. “I’m here.” He breathes in deep, his chest rising against my face. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Kayla.” He squeezes me tighter and I grip his back, my fingers twisting into his shirt.

  “How did you get here so fast? What about your rugby?” I mumble into him and then I can’t believe I’m actually saying these words in his arms.

  He’s here.

  God, I had no idea how much I needed him, needed this, until I got it.

  “I took the first plane out in the morning. Came straight here,” he says quietly. “We don’t have a game for a few days. Alan said it was fine. But I would have come even if it wasn’t. I don’t ever want you to think you have to handle everything on your own. I’m here for you, I always will be.”

  “Thank you,” I say, feeling so much sorrow and so much gratitude just swirling around in my chest. My skin is burning beautifully under his touch. I’ve missed him so much. Slowly I pull back and stare up at him. There he is.

  I’m not sure if he’s my Lachlan anymore.

  But he’s here.

  So he’s mine for now, for a brief time, once again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Lachlan

  I’ve wished a lot in my thirty two years but I’ve never wanted anything more than to be the one who could take away her pain.

  The moment she called me, I knew nothing was going to prevent me from reaching her. I got the first plane out in the morning, then I called Alan and told him I was missing a practice. He wasn’t happy about it but I told him I was doing it anyway.

  I packed my bags, dropped the dogs off with Amara, and then got my arse over to San Francisco. I’d hoped to be there in time before Kayla had to say goodbye but I got there just after.

  Seeing her walk out of that room, a world of agony on her thin shoulders, heartbreak ravaging her face, undid me like a spool of thread. I could barely stand the sight of her in that much pain and
sorrow but I needed to be as strong as I could for her.

  She collapsed into my arms. She collapsed into my heart.

  I held onto her with both and told her I was there.

  There was no protest, no anger. She accepted me and just for one, small flash of a second, I had her and everything was right in the world.

  My beautiful world.

  But of course, everything is still so very wrong.

  I go back with Kayla that evening to her apartment. I told her I’d gladly stay in a hotel, that if she didn’t need me around, I wouldn’t be around. But she wouldn’t have any of that.

  It’s weird being back in her place. It feels like decades ago when I first came in here, blind in my lust for her, with no idea what could happen between us. I must have known, deep down, that she was going to be the love of the life. I just didn’t know that our love would be so fraught with so many challenges.

  Or maybe I did know that. I still said “fuck it” and went for her anyway.

  I can’t say I would ever do it differently.

  “I’m going to take a shower,” she says, dropping her purse on the table. “I haven’t been clean for a long time.”

  For a moment I think she might invite me, like she always had in the past. But she just gives me a tired smile and closes the door behind her.

  I sit down on her couch and let it all sink in.

  I wish I knew what we were to each other.

  She said she loved me over the phone.

  Could that matter right now, through all of this?

  And if it could, what does that mean for us?

  She’s in the shower for a long time and when she steps out, her hair wet around her shoulders, her towel wrapped around her, she takes my breath away. So beautiful that it feels like a knife.

  “Will you come to bed with me?” she asks. Her voice is quiet and she looks at me shyly, like she’s unsure if I’ll say yes, unsure that she should even ask to begin with.

  I nod, getting up. “Of course.”

  I follow her into her bedroom. Even in the dark it’s a disaster zone, the product of someone who has been living through hell and can’t be bothered with much. I can imagine her sleeping here at night, so alone and in so much pain.

  She removes her towel and gets under the covers and I stare blindly at her naked silhouette, both terribly turned on and hopelessly in love.

  But I don’t want to make any presumptions. I take off my boots and socks, my pants, but keep my underwear and shirt on. I know there’s the stirrings of an erection – it can’t be helped when she’s naked around me, especially when I haven’t seen her for a month – but I ignore it. I don’t want to be inappropriate with her, not now, when she’s so close to breaking.

  I get under the covers, staring at her warily, unsure how to act, how to be. She turns to me and settles into my arms, her face on my chest, hand on my heart.

  I want to live in this moment, the quiet comfort of her skin against mine.

  “Thank you for coming,” she says after a few beats.

  I rub my hand down her back, wincing when I can feel her ribs. She’s gotten so thin.

  “Anytime,” I tell her. “Thank you for telling me you love me.”

  She pauses and I worry I’ve said the wrong thing. “On the phone,” I add. “Whether it’s true or not, thank you for that. You can’t know what it meant to me.”

  A few heavy moments tick on by, seeming so long in the darkness.

  “I still love you,” she says, pressing her hand down on my chest. “Here. I love you here, your big, beautiful heart.”

  Those words, those words.

  Hope flies within me.

  “But, it’s not enough,” she says and as quickly as it had risen, the hope is dashed, fallen from the sky, wings cut to the bone.

  “I understand,” I tell her, voice ragged with pain, even though I don’t understand. I can’t. Because my love for her can conquer anything.

  Then again, not many things can conquer death.

  “It’s just…it was so hard, you know. At times. And I know we could have worked through it, but you needed help that I couldn’t give you.”

  “I know,” I tell her. “But it’s different now. I’m seeing a psychologist. I’ve been sober. I spent a few weekends at rehab. I’m making the changes, I really am. I want to be a better man, not just for you, but for my family, for myself. For life.”

  I can feel her smile against me. “Good. That…that brings me relief like you wouldn’t know.” She sighs heavily. “But it’s done. You know? I don’t think we can come back from it. Or, I can’t come back from it. Not now. Not with my mom…it’s too hard. I don’t know how I’m going to get through tonight, let alone tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. How am I even going to put one foot in front of the other. I’ll fall. And I’ll stay down on the floor. I can’t ever pick myself up from this.”

  “Kayla,” I whisper to her. “Take your time. There’s nothing to rush through. I’m always going to be here for you, always going to feel the same. I will wait.”

  “But I don’t want you to wait for me,” she says, almost sharply.

  I close my eyes, absorbing the pain.

  She’s breaking.

  I’m breaking.

  “Okay,” I say hoarsely.

  “It’s not fair to you. I have my own shit to deal with here and I can’t deal with any more guilt than I already have. I can’t deal with knowing you’re across an ocean, waiting for me, loving me, when I know I’ll give you nothing. I can’t give anything anymore. Don’t you understand?”

  I nod, knowing completely what she means and hating it. Hating it. “Aye. I understand. You know, there’s something about me I never told you.”

  She stills against me, waiting for my confession. I bite the bullet. “When I decided to get clean, when I decided to come back to Jessica and Donald and beg for their mercy, to take me back in, it wasn’t a gradual choice. It was an immediate one. I had a friend, Charlie. A junkie just like me. All his bad faults were due to the addiction. If you took that away, he was a kind, charming young man. Funny as fuck. And he was loyal, though his loyalty was always to the drugs, to that high, first.” I lick my lips and realize that the story isn’t ripping me apart like I thought it would. The pain and shame and guilt of what was done has been pushed aside. “Charlie really wanted to get into heroin. I never did it, though Brigs and a few other people think otherwise, but I never did. Not that that makes me anything special – meth is just as disgusting, maybe more so. But I didn’t do it and when Charlie wanted to get high that way, I refused to help him. I didn’t want any part.”

  I pause and look down. She’s listening, wide-eyed. I go on. “But then I saw him shoot it up and saw how happy he was and then when he came down, it didn’t seem like meth. It seemed harmless. I told myself that. I told myself a lot of lies. So when he wanted some more a few days later, I told him I’d get it for him. We helped each other like that and now, well, now I believed I was really helping Charlie. So I went to some people I knew, the wrong people, but they had it and I got it for Charlie…used money I made begging on the street. It felt better than using it for food. We rarely fucking ate, you know. We could but it just wasn’t important. There was only one thing that was. The bloody high. So I went back to Charlie, gave him the smack. He shot it up in front of me. But…I don’t know what went wrong. Maybe he used too much, maybe it was bad stuff, maybe his body couldn’t take anymore. The problem was, I was so fucking high on meth myself that I had no idea what was going on. He died in front of me.”

  “No,” she whispers breathlessly. “Lachlan…”

  “Aye,” I tell her, reveling in how much stronger I feel for admitting it. “He died and I watched him die before my eyes. Me and my stray dog. We watched him die and I couldn’t do a single thing to help him. I couldn’t even help myself. I just sat there beside him, rocking back and forth, until my high wore off. Then I got up and ran. I just ran away. I don’t r
emember the next few days, though I’m working through them with my psychologist now, but I knew I made my choice to save my own life. I remember knocking on Jessica and Donald’s door and everything after that. It was the day I realized I only had one life and that’s when I was born all over again.”

  She breathes heavily against me and the darkness creeps closer. But I feel no fear over what I’ve told her. The truth has set me free.

  “Why are you telling me this?” she finally says, her voice barely audible.

  “Because I know what guilt is. And I know what death is. And I’ve finally learned that you should never attach one to the other. Or it will fucking destroy you.” I kiss the top of her head. “I know you’re going to hurt for a long time and you’re going to hate yourself but please. None of this was your fault. Don’t let the guilt tell you otherwise. Grieve for your mother with all your heart but never poison that very heart with shame. There’s no room for it there. Let it go.”

  She trails her fingers down my chest but doesn’t say anything.

  There’s nothing more for either of us to say.

  We just breathe. Our hearts beat.

  We cling to this sliver of time until she falls asleep against me.

  I hold her in my arms, truth setting me free.

  I just hope that same truth can save her heart.

  Just as her heart saved me.

  ***

  I decide to stay around for the funeral.

  Alan is not happy.

  Thierry is not happy.

  Edinburgh is not happy.

  No one is happy with this decision. It means I’m missing a game. It means I’m in big fucking shit and that I’ve potentially screwed the team over, especially since we’re up against Leeds.

  But I’m not about to leave Kayla yet. Not when she still needs me. And she needs me more than anything. I’m there by her side as she navigates funeral arrangements and her brothers and lawyers and wills. I’m there to hold her when she breaks down and she breaks down time and time again. The strain is sometimes too much for me to bear but I handle it all because she can’t.