I’ve also taken up boxing. I know it’s not exactly something that flows well with rugby and I know my body doesn’t want to be under any extra strain, but boxing is something I’m naturally good at and it’s another way for me to get my aggression out. And, according to my physiotherapist, I’m still in excellent shape, maybe more so now than I was in my late twenties thanks to the absence of alcohol and the extra exercise. It might be more of a brain/body thing too, where your body responds better when your head and heart are happier, but I’m not too sure about that.
Because my heart…well, it’s happy enough. It’s beating. But it not operating at full capacity, to put it mildly. Kayla and I have been talking at least once a week and texting, emailing and messaging way more than that. But the space between us is always there. It’s not that we even have a long distance relationship because we stopped referring to ourselves as us a long time ago. After everything that happened, her mother’s death was too much for us to survive. The last time I told her I loved her was over a month ago and I got no answer. A few weeks after that, she casually mentioned that she met a guy at a bar and was going on a date. I guess she was asking me permission or something.
Obviously I wanted to be sick at the thought. It took a long time before I had the courage to talk to her again. I’m guessing nothing ever happened with the guy because she never mentioned him again and I’ve never seen anything on her social media either. I’ve even talked to Bram a few times and asked him. He said she’s been single, just trying to move on. I don’t know if that’s moving on from her mother’s death, from me, or both.
But my love for her has never wavered. Never ebbed. I might not say it anymore but only because I don’t want to make her uncomfortable if she’s clearly moved on. And the last thing I want is to rush her when she’s been through so much.
So I keep it to myself. But I hope she knows. I hope she can hear it in my voice, the way I laugh at her silly jokes, because bloody hell, can she still make me laugh.
And I know it might be easier if I didn’t talk to her at all. But that’s not what I want. I would rather love her, unrequited, secretly from afar and still have her in my life, then never talk to her at all. That’s not life to me. Life is something that she’s in, in any way, shape or form.
Loving Kayla saved me in the end. I owe her everything.
“Just good?” Kayla asks, bringing the conversation around.
“Well, the dogs are good and boxing is going well,” I add. “My old rugby mate Rennie is back volunteering, so that’s fantastic. Other than that…nothing has really happened in four days.”
“I quit my job,” she says.
I’m stunned. “Really? I thought you loved it.”
Kayla quit her last job, the one at Bay Area Weekly, a week after her mother died. They were going to fire her anyway, she thinks, and it was time. That much I could see. She then applied to be a staff writer for a local magazine. To her surprise, they took her in and have been teaching her the ropes. It’s an online magazine about Northern California and I read every article she puts out. She really does have the talent, even though I know it will take time before it really pays off. The only downfall is that she had to take a massive paycut but Kayla rolled with the punches. She gave up her apartment and moved in with her brother Toshio.
“I did love it,” she says. “But it was time to move on. I got what I needed, the experience. Now I want a different kind of experience. I’ve been applying to every publication for the last two days here.”
“Any luck?”
“I have an interview tomorrow,” she says.
“Where? What’s it called? I’ll spy on them.”
“Twenty-Four Hours,” she says. “It’s like a daily free newspaper.”
“Sounds familiar,” I tell her.
“They’re in every major city. They hand them out at the train stations.”
I nod. “Ah yes, I’ve seen them. Good for you. Pay raise I hope?”
“We’ll see. I’m hoping it will be enough to continue sharing an apartment. Otherwise sometimes it’s about more than money.” She pauses. “Where are you?”
“Eh, I just took the dogs out for a bit, picked up some groceries. Coming up Frederick Street now. It’s bloody cold out.”
“I know,” she says and I can almost hear her shivering. “Any plans for tonight?”
“Not really. Stay in, maybe watch a stupid Christmas movie since it’s the damn season and all.”
“You’re positively Grinchy. Are you watching the movie alone?”
“Well, me and the pups, yeah.”
“No woman to join you?”
I swallow. “No,” I say softly.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
I frown. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I invited a woman over. You’re still the last, uh, well anyway. My memory is sharp now. It’s just me.”
She seems to think that over and I swear I can hear a sigh of relief. “What are you wearing?” she asks.
“What am I wearing?” I can’t help but smile at that. “Well that’s a question I haven’t heard in a bloody long time.”
“Let me guess,” she goes on. “Your old leather jacket. Dark grey jeans. Olive green sweater. Looks slightly Norwegian, like it would itch a lot. Camel Timberland boots. Oh, and fingerless black gloves.”
I look down at myself, as if I’d forgotten I dressed myself. “That’s exactly what I’m wearing,” I tell her, confused. “How did you…”
Then I look up and see my flat across the road.
I see Kayla standing outside of it.
The bag of groceries drops from my hands.
Somehow I clutch the phone and the leashes.
It can’t be her.
But Emily starts wagging her tail excitedly and Kayla raises her hand, giving me a small wave. She dressed in a bright purple peacoat, jeans, boots, a beanie pulled over head. She’s smiling and pulls her phone away from her ear.
I walk toward her in a daze.
“Your groceries!” she yells at me happily.
As if on autopilot I quickly turn around and scoop them up, then march on over to her. She’s not real until I can feel her.
But the closer I get, the more real she becomes until I’m standing on the curb, staring at her, utterly dumbfounded.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, my words floating away like in a dream.
“I was wondering if maybe you needed a roommate,” she says, putting her hands in her pockets and looking away with a sly smile on her face.
“A roommate?” I frown.
“Yeah. My job interview. If I get it, well, I’ll need a place to live.”
I can only stare at her, blinking, thinking it’s a prank of some sort.
She bites her lip, brow furrowed. “If you’ll have me of course. I don’t blame you if I’m the last person you want to see.”
“Kayla,” I say softly, coming toward her. I stop a foot away, the dogs sniffing her legs. She smiles down at them, absently patting them while she looks back to me. “How are you here?” I ask her.
“I told you. I quit my job,” she says, giving me a hopeful look. “I was ready for me to move on. Move on from the life I was living the last three months. That wasn’t really a life at all. I just…I know I should have told you over the phone or something but I was so afraid, you know. I was so afraid that you’d not believe me or you’d tell me not to come. I was so afraid that it wouldn’t happen. So I quit my job and I bought a plane ticket and I’m just…hoping for the best. Because really, I needed to tell you in person.”