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“How come nobody’s in the kitchen helping the pregnant lady?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. Honestly. All those people and not one of them had offered to help serve the hungry masses?

“I’m on it,” Radleigh said, rising to his feet, but he rolled his eyes and smirked as he left the room.

“I’m gonna help too,” I said, heaving myself off the sofa. Although my brain hadn’t totally unfogged yet, I figured moving around would be a good way to shake off the lingering tiredness. Plus, I thought I’d feel a little safer in the kitchen with less people around.

Safer? What’s there to be afraid of?

I was just tired. Still tired, that was all.

“No, let Radleigh do it,” Bryce said, grinning. “It’s not like he doesn’t need the practice.”

“Says Mr Domestic himself,” I teased, forcing myself to look him in the eye. I sounded like myself but felt a little detached from my surroundings, as if I was still dreaming. “When was the last time you put on an apron and helped in the kitchen?”

“Hey!” He threw his hands up. “I cook for myself now. I’m having a night off!”

Urgh, wake up!
I cringed inwardly for being so insensitive. It hadn’t been long since Bryce split from his wife and I knew he was still getting used to the bachelor life. In many ways we were going through a similar thing, learning how to be alone again and I should have known better than to draw attention to it.

He must have sensed my inner regret and he gave a small shake of his head and a wink to let me know he understood. I wasn’t deliberately being a bitch; my words just came out wrong.

“Come on,” Bree said, standing up and shattering the awkwardness. “Let’s go wait in the dining room. I’m starving!”

While my friends enthusiastically rose to their feet, knowing they were in for a culinary treat, I made my way to the kitchen to see if there was anything I could do to help. As I approached, I heard raised voices and paused, not wanting to interrupt. Getting in the middle of a fight between Leah and Radleigh was never a good idea, especially not when I was still trying to regain full awareness of the world around me after my dreams.

“I can’t help my job, Leah. You know how it works.”

“I used to be a part of it.”

“You’re still a part of it.”

“Not when you’re away,” she insisted in a snappy tone I’d never heard her use before. “When you’re away, I’m not a part of it because I’m here. On my own.”

“Leah, come on. You’re never on your own. Right now Freya’s around, and Bree’s always here, and Jesse too.”

“They’re not you.”

I crept away, knowing I shouldn’t have listened for as long as I did. What was up with Leah? She’d shown no signs of feeling lonely or edgy but Radleigh’s tone gave the impression they’d had this conversation before. Puzzled, I wondered what had made Leah feel alone. Radleigh was right – and boy, I never thought I’d say that – Leah always had people around her. She sounded almost insecure which was crazy since Radleigh was a changed man. Sure, they still bickered, and I was sure they still had some major blow-up fights sometimes, but they were secure. Or they
seemed
secure. I’d thought me spending so much time at their place was a problem, but maybe I needed to spend more time there, at least when Radleigh was away. Maybe then Leah would open up to me.

“Where’s my dinner?” Bree asked, and I jumped. My feet had carried me to the dining room while lost in thoughts. Her wide eyes were on me, her smile hopeful and I chuckled.

“They didn’t need any help.” I took the empty seat beside Miguel. “Dinner’s just coming.”

Miguel reached over and gently touched my hand. “Are you okay?”

I glanced down to his fingers which had closed around mine. If there had been another option, I wouldn’t have sat beside him, but it was the only place left aside from Leah and Radleigh’s preferred seats. My stomach rolled with discomfort for thinking that way. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him around. I still cared for him the way I always had; still needed him as much as I needed everyone else, but keeping my distance was key to coping.

I nodded. “Yeah, I was just thinking.”

About someone other than me. Feels weird.
I’d been locked in my own world of sadness for so long it almost felt good to think about someone else’s problems. Obviously, I didn’t want Leah and Radleigh to
have
problems. They’d worked hard to get their relationship on track, and with a baby on the way they didn’t need any drama.

Had I been selfish? If I hadn’t been so concerned with my misery, would I have noticed something was amiss? Similar to my careless comment to Bryce, maybe I’d stomped around, oblivious to anyone else’s pain without realising. The thought humbled me. I wasn’t the only one suffering.

“Are you worried about work tomorrow?” Bree asked as Leah and Radleigh entered the room, each carrying two plates of steaming hot lasagne.

“I haven’t thought about it yet,” I admitted, still shaken by the realisation I’d been missing out on vital parts of my friends’ worlds for the last few months. “I guess I’ll take it a step at a time. I’m only going for an hour tomorrow.” I shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Chapter 2 – Kick It Like a Bryce Warren Strike

Only an hour.

I could do this.

One hour. Sixty minutes. An amount of seconds I didn’t have the brain power to calculate. It all equalled time spent at
that place
. I had to kick the fear. Kick it like a Bryce Warren strike and hit the target so I could start putting my life together again.

So why was I standing in the Westberg Warriors parking lot with my heart beating out of my chest again?

“Come on, Freya,” I said aloud. “It’s okay. You got this.”

Ha. I had nothing. It was only an hour at work, but the same overwhelming panic, not to mention the constant berating myself for having no idea what was happening in the world around me, had made me lose every bit of assuredness I’d built up when faced with the place I always wanted to run from.

You were kidding yourself. You can’t do this. You’re not ready. You’re still not ready.

I wished I knew where to find the mute button for my inner demon. He was loud; the cause of my palpitations and the reason my feet wouldn’t take the steps into the training ground. This time I didn’t have Bryce beside me to hold me up. I didn’t have Miguel to steady me, or Leah to wrap her arms around me and tell me it would be okay. I didn’t because I thought I could make it on my own. How pathetic would it be to call Richard and ask him to meet me in the parking lot just so I could actually get inside and try to beat this thing?

My body shook. The familiar sounds and smells sent my head reeling, and like always, I wanted Will. I needed his strength, his no-nonsense attitude to kick my ass through the doors. Closing my eyes I breathed deeply and conjured up a picture of him in my mind. Heard his voice. Felt his hand, feather-light on my shoulder, guiding me forward.

I wasn’t crazy. I knew it wasn’t real. It was trickery, but I took it because it was all I had. And I
had
to get inside. To start the next part of the healing process and get back to work.

My steps were shaky but I took them without stopping. Every fibre in me wanted to bolt back to the car and drive home but I pushed on. One. Step. At. A. Time.

Made it.

Training had already begun, and in some ways that helped. Nobody noticed me as I snuck in and sat down on a bench at the edge of the field. Out of habit, my eyes scanned for Will before I stopped myself, and the reminder of his absence set my heart thudding and my palms sweating again.

My eyes drifted across the field again, slower this time. Nothing sank in, just faceless people doing un-named activities.

Sombre faces. Mourners. Crying. That smell.

I gripped the edge of the bench, forcing those visions away, and even though I managed to bring my focus back to what was real, reality sucked just as hard as the awful memories. The all too familiar ache that lived inside me pressed harder against my chest, reacquainting me with its presence.

“Hey.” I raised my head at the sound of Richard’s voice and he smiled down at me. “How are you doing today?”

“Three minutes. Is that enough for today?”

His smile turned sympathetic, his hand finding my shoulder. “Think you can make it to five?”

I pressed my fingers into my palms, rubbing at the moisture there. “I think I can. I’d like to make it an hour at least. Maybe more. Maybe I can even go out on the field for a while.”

“If you want to you’re welcome to join us. If you want to stay here that’s okay too. Try to hang in as long as you can. Why don’t you grab a coffee then come out and say hello to everyone?”

A coffee meant going into the restaurant, where Will’s wake was held. If coming into the grounds was hard, going there would be impossible. I’d had enough of the flashbacks already.

As if he saw my feelings shining in my eyes, Richard said, “Maybe you can save that hurdle for another day.”

I nodded. “I might go later. Right now I’ll just wait here.”

Richard tipped his head in understanding before running back onto the grass to his team. They knew better than to stop doing drills, even when Richard stepped away. Again, I watched without truly seeing, trying to picture myself coaching again. Trying to find my way back into the team camaraderie we used to have, knowing it would never be the same. From where I sat it felt as though everyone else had moved on. I didn’t begrudge them any happiness; I wished I could find my own. But it was hard to hear their laughter when my heart continued to cry.

“Excuse me.”

I didn’t recognise the male voice or the pale blue eyes that met mine as I looked up, but I knew who he was. His brown hair was cropped short at the sides, longer at the front and sort of swept up into a trendy peak. He was the epitome of L.A cool.

“Hello.”

With slight hesitation, the stranger sat on the bench beside me. “Freya, right?”

I nodded. “You must be Ethan.”

He held out his hand for me to shake and I accepted. The warmth of his fingers around mine negated the sweatiness of my grasp since he was already hot anyway. I guessed he was about twenty-four years old, and this was probably his first major job since college. Although he shuffled awkwardly where he sat, his overall demeanour was of confidence and kindness, and a tiny bit of my terror over meeting him dwindled away.

“I’ve been waiting to meet you,” he said. “I didn’t intend to pounce on you thirty seconds after you arrived here, it’s just, I thought I’d meet you yesterday and I got myself prepared and then… well, you had to go. I probably should have waited until you settled but the waiting made me antsy and I really just wanted to get it over with. Not that I thought meeting you would be bad, but… I think it was always going to be a little weird.”

I gave him a smile of understanding because I totally related to everything he said. Meeting the man who took Will’s job, even though everyone had told me he was a good guy, had played on my mind as my work start date grew closer. It was hard enough knowing Will wasn’t there, but knowing someone new would be in his place scared me. I didn’t know how I’d react to him, if I’d instantly hate him because he wasn’t Will, or if I’d avoid him as much as possible because of the pain of what I’d lost. As it turned out, Ethan’s nervous chatter made the introduction easier somehow.

“It’s good to meet you,” I told him, sincerely. “Thank you for being brave enough to talk to me first. And for understanding.”

His easy smile relaxed me more and I noticed some of the tension leave his body as his shoulders lowered and he let out a breath. “I don’t really know what to say now, other than I’m so sorry for your loss. This is the worst way to come into a job.”

“Thank you. I understand it must have been rough for you to come onto the team like this, with everyone…”

“Wishing I was someone else? Yeah. But I get it. I get that the whole team lost someone special. I may never have met Will, but the way everyone speaks about him, I can tell he was someone to look up to. Someone who was respected.”

“He sure was.” Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. Partly at the mention of Will, and partly at the kindness of my new team mate. He didn’t have to make the effort. Most people would have been too intimidated to approach the woman falling apart on the sidelines. 

“If I knew you better, I’d hug you right now.” Ethan gave a small laugh. “But since I don’t, I’m gonna get back to work.” He held his hand out again and I shook it. Again. “It’s great to finally meet you. I’m looking forward to working with you as soon as you’re ready.”

A small part of me wished he
had
hugged me; it would have been an excellent bonding exercise and it might have glued together the pieces of me that had started to fall away at the mention of Will. Sometimes that was how I felt. Like little parts of me were flaking off, dropping away and leaving behind an empty shell. In truth, I was the only person who could glue me back together but I was at a loss for how to make it happen.

Coffee. Some people think chocolate is the universal answer to life’s problems, but for me, it’s coffee. I really couldn’t avoid the restaurant forever, and maybe watching everyone from above through a pane of glass would make being there easier. Like I was watching through a TV screen or something. Buoyed by Ethan’s introduction – because, let’s face it – that was a gigantic worry crossed off my list, I stood and slowly made my way to the restaurant.

As soon as I entered the first set of doors, the ones that led to the physio’s office, Richard’s office, and the changing rooms, the smell hit me. Sweaty men, soccer boots, testosterone. Yup, I was home. The stairs to the restaurant loomed ahead, spiralling upwards, challenging me to climb them and face my fear.

With a deep, shuddering breath, I took a few steps forward then my feet froze, rooted to the spot just like they did in the parking lot.

“Come on!” I snarled at myself, curling my fingers in to clench my palms. “Normality is just up those stairs. Get your shit together.”

I shook my head at my need to talk to myself. Besides, normality was
not
up those stairs. Normality was a foreign, unreachable land. Even so, finding it would be easier if I could take the next few steps. Another deep exhale and I shuffled onwards. With each step up, every miserable image I’d had pushed into my consciousness. The stale stench of sadness, the sympathetic eyes of friends and family, my mind flicking back to the sight of Will’s coffin being lowered into the ground and me screaming, begging them to stop so I could hold on to it for a little longer.

That vision. It knocked me down every time and I sank onto the steps as my legs collapsed beneath me, heart racing and a searing ache ripping at my guts.

I need this to be over. I need to move on.
This constant back and forth of feelings was killing me. I wanted to feel alive again, or I may as well have jumped into that grave too. But how was I meant to move on? My best friend, the love of my life, died just a few months ago – when should the grieving process stop? In my head, I felt like there should be some kind of time limit because nobody can grieve forever. Can they? I didn’t know where the line should be drawn between letting the process do its thing in its own time, or trying to crawl out of it and get back to being myself again. I thought back to how I’d felt after hearing Leah and Radleigh arguing the night before. How I’d neglected my friendships because I hadn’t known they might have problems, or at least that Leah wasn’t happy. Maybe that was the place to start. Finding my way back by opening myself up to the lives of my friends.

I just had to persuade them to let me.

I didn’t stay at work for nearly as long as I wanted to. Although I only set myself a goal of one hour, I really wanted to see the whole day through. After battling my way to the Warriors canteen and forcing myself to stay for the duration of a cup of coffee, I was exhausted. Being there drained my energy and left me feeling disappointed, unhappy, set back. I’d only tried twice but frustration at the slow, almost non-existent progress took hold of me, and to top off my horrible day, I’d stupidly agreed to meet a few of the guys from work at a club later as part of my “trying to re-connect with my friends” mission. It wouldn’t be a late night – or not too late, anyway, since the Warriors had a match the next day, but the thought of getting dressed up when I wanted to climb into my pyjamas didn’t appeal to me in any way.

After taking a nap for a couple of hours, I forced myself to take a shower, and attempted to make myself look presentable. Where was Bree when I needed her? Even before she studied to be a make-up artist, she could easily have hidden the dark circles under my eyes, but after training, she could probably have made me look like Keira Knightley. I made a mental note to ask her for some tips next time I saw her then set about attempting to cover the darkness myself.

I arrived at the club, reminding myself of all the reasons I was there. I hadn’t done the clubbing thing for a while, and not without Will, but being out in a social situation felt somehow easier than being at work. Maybe because I knew my pay check didn’t depend on me staying. 

The first person I spotted was Miguel; his crazy afro always made him easy to find in a crowd. I walked in the direction of his fuzzy hair, the bass pounding through me with each step, and saw Bree, Jude, Bryce and Jesse sitting at the table with him.

Bryce hopped up to greet me. He gave me a hug which I returned, then he took my jacket and hung it on the back of the free chair. “Glad you came,” he said, smiling.

I wasn’t quite ready to say I was glad too, but I returned his smile and we both sat down as we all chorused our hellos.

“Can I get you a drink?” Jude asked.

I paused for a second, contemplating just how bad the day had been. It wasn’t that I hadn’t had a drink over the last few months, just that during my worst moments, I refused to reach for the bottle as a way to numb out the pain. I refused to become the person who drowned her heart in alcohol to stop it hurting. I’d found myself clinging onto some measures of control to stop me spiralling any farther, and for all my disappointment in myself for wallowing for so long, I was proud I’d at least managed not to go down that road, however tempted I might have been sometimes.

“A white wine spritzer, please.” Two glasses, no more.