But I’ve got her. I do.
We hold onto each other like this for seconds, moments, minutes. We hold onto each other because we didn’t hold onto each other tight enough before. This time, this time, I know neither of us will let go.
“You know it hasn’t been proven yet,” I say, my voice thick and lazy as I brush her damp hair off her face. “But I believe I can exist on you alone. No food, no water. Just Kayla. Care you test this theory out over the next few days?”
She grins up at me and my heart beats something fierce for her. “I would love to help you with this experiment,” she says, her eyes vivid, so beautifully full of life again. “Give me another few minutes and we can try again.”
“I have a feeling this experiment might last a very long time,” I warn, smiling.
“Good,” she says, running her thumb over my lips. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”
And this time I know it’s true.
This time she’s here to stay.
EPILOGUE
Nine Months Later
Kayla
Lachlan is a sweating, grunting, tireless machine. The way his limbs move in all the right ways, his muscles tightening as he dips, and lunges and plows his way through. He’s a beautiful beast to watch, the kind of effortless skill that takes your breath away. And hell, does it ever turn me on.
I can’t be the only one that thinks this. I look all around me, at the stadium of screaming spectators waving their red and black scarves and I know that at least most of the women are thinking what I’m thinking, and maybe some of the men.
It goes without saying, Lachlan McGregor is a force to be reckoned with. And boy, do I ever know it. Now more than ever. And I mean that in the best possible way.
Moving to Scotland was the best decision I’d ever made. Nine months ago I had no idea what would happen with my life, all I knew is that there was a man I loved and a man who loved me and I needed to be with him. It didn’t matter that he was wrought with demons and I was stumbling in grief and aimless except for him. I didn’t care that I was risking it all for something that might not work out. I’d risked it all before and it worked out the only way it could.
My mom once told me that my life is on the track it’s mean to be on. I think she’s completely right. My old track led me to Edinburgh with Lachlan where I fell madly in love. But life has other plans, plans that we may never understand and the track changed. It took me a moment to reroute it. It took some time to figure out what exactly I needed.
It was Lachlan all along.
A lot has changed in nine months. Lachlan has remained sober the whole time, though it’s something neither of us take for granted. I know it’s something that will never leave him completely. He has good days and bad days and on the bad days we go for long walks and I make him talk to me until we can figure out a way through it. We’re in this together now and I make sure he knows that he doesn’t have to face any of it alone.
His psychologist has helped a lot, so has his healthy lifestyle. He’s doing extremely well in boxing, still just for fun, for a form of exercise that has nothing to do with his career and it’s something to get his anger out better than any medication or booze.
I like to think that it’s because of all this that he’s gotten better at rugby. When I first met him, he was so worried about his career and age, thinking he couldn’t possibly last any longer. That doesn’t seem to be the case. Not only is he performing at his best, but he’s the longest-standing member of the team and going into this new season, the team captain.
He handles his new responsibility beautifully.
As for me, we’ll I’m still struggling but it’s a fun struggle.
I never did get the job at Twenty-Four Hours, but I did get a job writing for an online Scottish fashion and lifestyle magazine. I get paid per article, which supplements the income I get from working part-time with Amara at Ruff Love. The two of us are currently trying to put our heads together and come up with a PR position at the organization. Maybe she’ll take it, maybe I will, but if it comes to light, it will really help Lachlan get all the love, funding and attention he needs for the dogs.
Speaking of dogs, Lionel and Emily are still around, still licking us to death and sniffing everything in sight. Unfortunately, Jo died a few months ago. Cancer. There was nothing we could do and once Lachlan saw she was suffering, he put her down. It hurt like hell, to be honest, to see that beautiful, sweet dog so fearful on that table at the vet’s office. But at the last minute she looked up at Lachlan and he smiled tearfully at her and she seemed to smile at him. She calmed down. The vet gave the shot and Jo died peacefully.
Naturally it brought up every fresh, painful memory of my mother’s death. That’s something that will never go away. Ever. I wish it could. I wish it would. But in some ways it feels wrong because someone like my mom should always be in the forefront of your thoughts. To feel that loss, that pain, is just a testament to the kind of person that she was.
Though sometimes it really is hard to just get out of bed. Sometimes you wake up with dreams of that person and there’s that blissful moment between sleep and reality where you think everything is as it always was. And then it sinks in how much everything has changed. I realize she’s gone and my chest is filled with stones.
On those mornings I reach for Lachlan and he’s always there. Because he’s my rock. He’s my love and my everything. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him and nothing he wouldn’t do for me and god, it’s scary to have that kind of love, it really is, but I would never trade it for anything.
I know I used to think that the kind of love that my mother had for my father was the kind that would ruin you. So big and bold and powerful, it would take over your life. And it’s true. Because the love I have for Lachlan is like that. It’s bigger than the both of us. It has the power to collapse us, like the darkest star imploding on itself, too great for its own good. But what a beautiful thing to have, a love so deep that it can bring people to their very knees. A love that can rise from the ashes, greater and stronger than ever before.
Amara elbows me in my side, bringing my focus back to the rugby game at hand. I’m sitting with her in the lower stands, though I know that Jessica, Donald and Brigs are up in the box seats.
“One more try and they have it,” Amara squeals, clutching onto her beer even though there’s nothing left of it since she’s been chugging them down like a mad woman, along with the rest of the stadium.
I’ve pretty much stopped drinking in support of Lachlan. Maybe I’ll have some wine when it’s a girl’s night with Amara at her place, but when I’m with Lachlan I’m as sober as a jaybird. It doesn’t really have an effect on my life, it’s just something I need to do for him and I do it without him asking. Because I want to. Because he would do anything for me.
Amara has become a good friend though. She’s actually a lot like me, totally opinionated and speaking her mind, even though her love life is a bit lackluster. Still, Lachlan and I are always trying to set her up with some rugby player of the moment and I don’t think she can complain too much about that. Naturally, she still does.
Of course I talk to Nicola and Steph all the time, so I don’t feel like I’ve lost them at all. They both want to come out and visit with Linden and Bram but…well, there’s a complication now.
Stephanie is pregnant.
I know, I’m sad about it in a totally selfish way because it means that she’s moving onto a part of her life that I can’t relate to and I’m afraid that our relationship will change. But at the same time, it’s Steph. She’s always going to have my back, no matter what, and I know I can always be real with her. And really, she’s just so happy that she and Linden are going to be parents that her excitement is contagious. It’s enough that I’m buying every Scottish baby item I can find, including the tiniest little kilt in the MacGregor tartan. I figure girl, or boy, it’s wearable.