A whirlwind departure - part 1

The morning began with a quiet grace, sunlight slanting through the blinds to illuminate the soft curves of my body next to his. We were wrapped in the comfortable intimacy of shared space, a stillness that had become the anchor of our days. Our movements were a familiar, practiced ballet, and our connection was a quiet crescendo of heat built from lingering gazes and the lightest touch.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against my hair. "Don't move. Stay right here."

"Morning yourself," I whispered back, burying my face deeper into his chest. "I could stay here forever. The world outside is a distant, irrelevant hum."

"Good," he chuckled, his arms tightening around me. "My only agenda is you. A hundred pizzas and the rest of the week is just us. What do you say?"

"A great plan," I said as I looked up at him, "but I have an urgent errand to take care of."

He smiled, a lazy, contented curve of his lips. "Mostly a promise. The world’s demands can always wait."

“I need to go, Matteo,” I said as I got up.

I showered, got dressed and put my glasses on. I didn’t want to deal with my contacts as my allergies were bothersome.

The drive to my doctor’s office was what I needed to clear my head; I needed to get Matteo back to his place and put some distance between us. Having him in my bed with me had been amazing but I knew it was leading him on. Inside, I was quickly ushered into an exam room. Alex, the male nurse, came in with a clipboard and a wide grin. I had grown to trust him implicitly; he was the only male nurse I was comfortable with, and only he, my doctor and I knew his secret: he was a FTM man.

“All right, let’s get this done,” he said, his voice easy. "How have you been?"

"Better now," I smiled. "How are you doing, Alex? I know you were having issues with your new place. If there’s any more trouble with your landlord, please let me know. A dear friend of mine is an attorney and can get you the right person to represent you. She has zero tolerance for discrimination."

His grin widened. "I'm doing great, thank you. The transition has been a journey, but I'm finally feeling like myself. My therapist – the one that you recommended? – has been a great support to me. The apartment is settled, too. As you know, the landlord was having a hard time with my new name and pronouns and misgendered me – plus it was bordering on harassment. You really saved me a headache when you stepped in and mentioned that what he was doing was discrimination."

“It was my pleasure,” I said. "It's baffling that people are so conditioned by what they see on the outside, they forget that sometimes we have to have the bravery to find out who we are. You have always been Alex; you just had to find your way home. If you come across problems with your landlord again, text me and I will get you in touch with my friend who is an attorney. She works on business related legal stuff but she’ll get you in touch with a civil rights attorney. "

“I appreciate that,” he said. “I think after the last time, it set him straight. Ready for your injection?”

“Yep! Let’s get this party started!”

Alex laughed. I pulled down my sweatpants just enough to expose the curve my upper butt, then laid down on my stomach on the exam table. He swabbed the area with an alcohol wipe, the familiar cold sting a brief distraction.

“A little pinch coming,” he warned gently.

The needle slid in, and I barely flinched. The slight pressure of the liquid entering my muscle was all I felt.

“All done,” he said, pulling the needle out and placing a small bandage on the spot. “And you’re in luck today. Dr. Evans sent an auto-injector to your pharmacy. Said you could take care of it yourself in the future. Less hassle for you.”

“That's amazing,” I said, relieved as I pulled up my panties and sweatpants. “My business has become busier – which is great – but  I've been having a hard time stepping away from the office every time as it pulls me away from the clients and staff. Thanks, Alex. You're the best."

"Anything for a friend," he said with a wink. "Don’t be a stranger."

"Never," I promised.

When I got back to the house, the easy calm I’d left behind had been shattered. The air was thick with tension, a conversation that had gone terribly wrong. As I walked into the living room, I found Dom and Matteo on the couch, a smirk on Dom’s face, while Matteo stood a few feet away, looking annoyed.

"Matteo, what's he doing here?" I asked, my voice a whisper that held an edge of irritation.

"I invited him over. We're friends from back in the day. I thought I'd introduce you two," Matteo said.

"Deppgrl and I dated for about two months, which is why I'm familiar with her house," Dom stated. “I got a tattoo in her honor and joked that if we ever broke up, I would cover it up. She didn't like the joke, and she broke up with me.”

"Dom, seriously?" Matteo said, his frustration clear. "That's pretty rude no matter how you intended it. It's like spending money to honor someone and then stating you don't respect them by covering it up if it didn't work out. No wonder she broke up with you."

“I was going to ask her to marry me a few months down the road," Dom tried to defend himself.

“Get out of my house, asshole,” I stated, my voice low and dangerous. “Never accept any invitation from anyone to come here again. You step foot on my property without my explicit permission, and I will have you arrested for trespassing.”

Dom got up, walked to the door, and left. I slammed the door behind him and turned to Matteo, who stared at me with an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know," he said.

"It was a few months ago, and it’s not important,” I said. "It was short and messy, and I didn't want to bring it into our friendship. You don't tell me about every woman you’re with, do you?"

"No, but that's not the point," he said. "The point is, I just found out something personal about you from him. I feel like I'm getting a highlight reel of your life, not the real thing. What else don't I know?" He shook his head and pulled out his phone. "I’m ordering pizza. I can’t even think right now."

The silence that followed after he ordered the pizza was suffocating. We went to my room, the only place we could escape the ghost of Dom’s visit. We stripped and got on the bed. I laid down on my back with my legs spread, waiting for Matteo’s impressive dick. The sex was less about passion and more about forgetting Dom. Matteo didn’t rush but took his time. We climaxed several times, and he came inside me each time. After the last time he came in me, he collapsed next to me.

When we caught our breath, we got up to shower and get dressed. I put on a clean oversized shirt, and he put on clean boxers and shorts. We headed downstairs just as the doorbell rang with our pizza. Matteo grabbed the door, and knowing him, he not only paid but tipped the delivery driver well. We then settled in to watch movies, the quiet company and simple comfort a welcome change. I knew Matteo was still upset, jealous that I had a past with Dom, and frustrated that I hadn’t shared it with him myself. I also knew he was still in love with me, and that this moment was a test of what we had. Like I realized earlier, I knew that I needed to put space between us.

As the last movie—an old Humphrey Bogart classic—played, I began to stroke Matteo’s dick, hoping it would help him relax before bed. My grip was gentle but sure. With each slow stroke, he shook, his hips instinctively thrusting up to meet my touch. I watched his face; his eyes were closed, and his mouth was parted, gasping in pleasure. The room filled with the soft sound of his quiet moans rising with every movement. I could feel his desire building under my hand, the tension coiling through his body as I stroked him faster. When he finally let go, his climax was sudden and overwhelming, every nerve alight beneath my touch. He came so much all over my hand.

As he was catching his breath and I was in the kitchen wash my hands, the front door opened, and a familiar Kiwi voice call out, “Hey. Deppgrl? It’s your favorite mate, Bongo.”

“Hey! I am in the kitchen washing my hands!” I yelled out.

As I dried my hands, I felt Scott’s—Bongo’s—arms around me, hugging me from behind. I then felt his lips on my neck. I turned and hugged him fiercely. It had been too long since we last saw each other. Had it really been two years?

Before I could properly kiss Scott, Matteo joined us in the kitchen.

Matteo’s shock registered instantly, his posture shifting as he gently exited the room, protective but tense. "Who is he? I've seen him before," he whispered.

"This is Scott Robertson," I said. "He’s a friend of mine from New Zealand."

“Oh?” Matteo asked.

“I went to a sporting event and in my travels during my tour afterwards, I bumped into Scott,” I explained, my voice quiet. “One thing led to another and we had an affair the few weeks that I was staying in New Zealand. His wife, Jan, found out. It almost cost him his marriage, but she decided against a divorce.”

“Something else you never told me about,” Matteo muttered to himself.

“Like you and that tattoo of my name on your chest,” I stated.

“Touché, Deppgrl,” Matteo smiled a little. “Touché.”

Scott’s tone was all business. “We need you…the boys need you. I  need you. It's a crisis."

Matteo blinked rapidly, the pieces snapping together. “The All Blacks,” he breathed. "You're their head coach? The most famous rugby team in the world?”

“What kind of crisis are we talking about, Bongo?" I asked.

Scott’s jaw was set, his expression grave. “It’s worse than the stress, extra practices, extra gym time and work for the championship and preparation for the Rugby World Cup. It’s a complete breakdown of the team. There’s been both verbal and physical arguments during practice as well as some bullying. Some of the physical fighting is so bad that it takes all of us coaches to break it up. And it’s not just that, Deppgrl. The coaches and authorities have caught some players for excessive non-medical use of weed, and they're not even trying to hide it. Us coaches look away if it’s half a joint here or there for the players smoking but the players just keep lighting up. They're falling apart and you're the only one who can fix this. You know their minds. You know how to get them back on track." He looked from Matteo to me, a silent plea in his eyes. "They're counting on you. I'll run to your lock box for your paperwork—give you two some privacy first."

“Is she the only one that can help the team?” Matteo asked. “I just got this incredible woman back in my life and she’s got to just like that?

“Yes,” Scott replied. He immediately headed toward room holding the lock box. “I need you there in less than twenty-four hours. This isn't just about a game - this is the championship and the World Cup. They need you to get their heads back in the game. It's a team of forty two incredible men and they're falling apart. I’m falling apart.”

“Do you have the team’s private plane?” I asked slyly before he completely left the room.

“Yes,” he said, knowing the full reason why.

“Good because I need the privacy to focus and figure out to get these lug heads back together as a team of forty two instead of a team of one,” I replied

Soon as the door closed, I turned to Matteo. “Call Kay. Get her here with my paperwork as soon as possible—I need to sign what’s needed. She knows what it is. Ask her to bring the other paperwork that gives her temporary ownership of my company while I am out of the country and the power of attorney paperwork for the house, bills and other shit.”

He nodded without hesitation and reached for his phone. “On it.” He stared at me, a new, respectful awe in his eyes. "I had no idea. You're... incredible. First Dom, now this. You lead a completely different life when I'm not around, don't you?"

"I know. It's a lot," I said softly. "But it's my life. It's a part of who I am. I keep a lot of it separate, but it's me.”

“Clearly," he said.

“I’ll shower and pack while Kay’s on her way,” I said, trying to anchor myself in action instead of nerves.

Matteo rose with me, worry and pride all tangled in his eyes. “I’ll help any way I can,” he promised softly, dialing Kay’s number. "Kay? It's Matteo. Look, I know this is out of nowhere, but Deppgrl needs you to get over here with her paperwork. All of it. The All Blacks need her. Right. She'll explain everything. Just... hurry. Please"

As I disappeared down the hall to shower, the steady hum of activity and anticipation replaced the quiet intimacy, and my heart thudded with the certainty of leaving for whatever awaited next.

I showered quickly. When I got out and dried off, I could hear Scott and Matteo having words. I immediately called Mark, Matteo’s primary doctor, to see if Matteo could fly super long distance. The answer was no, that he needed more time to heal. I thanked him and then called Maddie. She wasn’t thrilled but said that she already sent out to ALL airlines that I was temporarily on a do not fly list however, she was going to do her best to lift that and also said she’d knew something like this would happen so she’s going to send me an email attaching a letter clearing me in case the airlines wouldn’t lift me being unable to fly. I thanked her.

I texted my pharmacist to see if they could get me an override from my insurance company to provide me at least a six month supply on all my medications as there was a family emergency outside of the country. My pharmacist, Tom, said that he’d get it done for me as soon as possible.

From there, I grabbed my largest suitcases and called out to Scott to see how many bags I could take and what clothes I needed. He told me that I could take up to six large bags, three medium bags and two smallish carry-on bags then told me to bring a variety as it’s their spring and the weather is all over the place. I thanked him. As I was raiding my bathroom for beach towels, bath towels and shampoo and conditioner, Scott came to join me in the bathroom.

“You know, you don’t have to bring a bathing suit if you don’t want to,” he murmured as I spun around. “New Zealand has unofficial beaches for nudists and naturalists. We can go for a nice, long walk by ourselves.”

“I remember,” I said slyly as I kissed him. “I need to wear something in front of the boys when we go to the beach. I don’t want to traumatize them before the championship. Besides, I'm sure you have something for me, anyway."

“Touché,” he said, a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face. “Don’t bother to pack sunscreen as the crap here isn’t allowed there. Save some space with contact solution, all kinds of towels and your shampoo and conditioner. I have all that stuff back at my house. Just focus on packing clothes you feel good in.”

“So, I’m staying with you then?” I asked as his hands slid up my shirt and stopped at my breasts. “Hope we’ll have some privacy. Will Jane be around?”

“We definitely will. The boys know how special you are to me,” he said. He leaned in, his voice a low rumble. "In fact, I've already set up a surprise for you. A little welcome back gift...a private retreat just for us for a few days. We'll have a few hours to ourselves before the madness begins. And no, Jane will not be around – she is on a retreat with her tennis coach."

“I’m sure you’ll be showing me how special on the plane, right?” I asked. "Is it an overnight flight?"

"The best ones always are," he replied with a grin. "Just a few hours of pure, uninterrupted us. I'e been looking forward to this for a long time."

Before he could kiss me, Kay comes running upstairs with all the paperwork. Matteo served as the witness and since Kay is also a notary, she said everything is official. "This is a Power of Attorney, too," Kay explained, her voice breathless. "It gives me temporary ownership of your assets so I can handle things while you're away. I'm honored you trust me with this. Just... promise to call me when you can." 

I told Kay that there’s more than enough money in our joint account to cover my monthly mortgage, water bill, cell phone, heating or cooling or whatever is needed. 

"Just let me know if there are any unexpected bills that pop up, and I’ll add more funds to our joint account. You know where the card and checks are. Use it if you need to. I'm counting on you, Kay." She and I hugged then she left. As she was leaving, Tom came inside hollering my name. I ran downstairs.

“Hey, Tom. What’s the good news?” I asked.

“Good news? It’s amazing news!” he said, holding up a rather large box of medication. “Well, it was a bit of a struggle but I let your insurance company know that you have a parent in the hospital in New Zealand and the prognosis isn’t great and let them know that you don’t know when you’ll be back,” he said. “I also looked into what medications you’re on to see if New Zealand has them and not every med of yours is in New Zealand. So I had to work some magic.”

“Long story short, Tom?”

“You have nine months of medications, no co-pays,” he said, a proud smile on his face. “The insurance said that if you run out, you’ll have to come back to get refills and since this is considered an emergency, they doubt that they’ll do another emergency refill in the same calendar year. You're set for a while. Just don't lose it. Oh and your specialty med that you can only get from the specialty pharmacy? I am getting it shipped to the hospital closest to where the All Blacks practice and play out of."

“Thanks so much, Tom! I appreciate it,” I said. “You’re a lifesaver. I owe you one. Better let you go before they find out you’re missing from the pharmacy.”

“Scott, do you have room for one more?” Matteo asked sheepishly.

“Matteo, I already called Mark and he said that you’re not cleared to fly yet,” I said. “Take it up with him. He was pretty clear about it. You can't just ignore doctor's orders."

“Did you tell him that you didn’t want me to go?” Matteo asked as his face became red.

“No,” I said, pulling out my phone and putting Mark on speaker. “Mark, Deppgrl. Sorry to bother you again. Matteo doesn’t seem to understand the severity of his injuries and flying.”

“Matteo,” Mark’s voice came through the phone, firm and direct. “It’s over a seventeen hour flight from where we are to New Zealand. Within an hour into the flight, you will be in severe pain. I do not suggest you fly over two hours at any point in the next few weeks. You're still recovering from the accident. A flight that long could cause a serious setback, or even worse, a medical emergency. You need to stay put until I clear you."

“Thanks, Doc,” Matteo said, his voice defeated. I hung up after thanking Mark for the second time in three minutes.

I pulled him aside. "Matteo, look at me," I said, holding his hands. "I know this is confusing. First Dom, now Scott, and I'm about to leave. This isn't what I wanted to happen, not right now."

"Then why are you going?" he asked, his voice raw. "Why don't you just stay?"

"Because I have to," I explained gently. "This is a part of my life – a very big part. The part I keep separate. I'm asking you to live your life. Go on dates. Move on from the pain of seeing Savannah with Paul. See people. Just don't put your life on hold waiting for me. That part of our lives is over."

"I don't want to see anyone else. I want to see you," he said, the hurt clear in his eyes. "How am I supposed to just... forget about you?"

"You won't forget about me but you need to move on from your current pain as do I. We'll talk. I promise. This isn't a goodbye, just... a see you later." He nodded, a little defeated, but accepting, and kissed me softly on the lips. “When I come back, you’ll be welcomed back into my bed but we’re completely different people. At any point, Bongo – sorry, Scott – will come get me. Or some politician.”

“Hey, baby cakes,” Scott said out of breath. “Here’s all of your paperwork, visas, passports, phone converter, the Kiwi phone and a certified copy of your birth certificate – just in case!”

The three of us headed upstairs. "Alright, let's get this done," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "How many bags did you say I could take again, Bongo? Because it feels like I'm packing for a small army."

"Six large, three medium, two small carry-ons," Scott recited with a grin. "Seriously," he laughed, zipping a suitcase. "Are you packing for a trip or an entire new life? I don't know where we'll fit all this. My SUV isn't a moving truck, you know."

"I'm a woman who's prepared for anything. You've taught me that much," I said, playfully elbowing him. "Besides, you said I could bring a lot!"

Matteo, holding up a pair of boots, looked confused. "Do you really need these? I thought you said the weather was warm."

"It's spring in New Zealand," I explained. "The weather is all over the place. You'll pack all the shoes you can for spring in a place where the weather is unpredictable. One minute, I could use rain boots and the next, I could use snow boots."

"You think about everything, don't you?" Matteo said, looking impressed.

"I have to. Now hand me that other suitcase, will you? And Bongo, did you remember the phone converter? I'll also be needing my New Zealand phone as it's an international phone that only works in New Zealand."

"Of course. It's on the counter with your paperwork and your Kiwi phone, remember?  I've got a bag packed with essentials, too. You won't need to lift a finger once we're on the plane."

"Always one step ahead. It's why I need you." It took about an hour for the three of us to fill up my bags. I did call my current phone carrier to let them know that I was traveling out of the country for some time. "Okay," I said, holding my hair straightener, "got it. Last piece of the puzzle."

Between the three of us, we were able to load Scott’s SUV quickly. As we loaded the last bag, I called Vince to come get Matteo as I had to fly out of the country. No questions asked and Vince was on his way….he said that he’d help Matteo find a replacement vehicle. I thanked him. I shared the conversation with Matteo. "Vince will be here soon. He said he'll help you with the car and get you sorted. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything," Matteo said.

"Please make sure you and Vince lock up. Don't forget the back door."

"I'll double-check everything. And I'll water the plants. Please let me know when you land. I'm going to be worried about you until I know you're safe."

We kissed again before I took my work visa, the passport of the country that I was born in and my New Zealand passport from Scott. Matteo looked at me oddly. "Wait, you have two passports?" he asked. "And a work visa? What do you do? I thought you were just a who worked on stocks and portfolios?"

"I have a work visa because I spend most of my time living outside of New Zealand, even though I'm a citizen. I also have a New Zealand passport by grant because I had spent over a thousand days in New Zealand over five years and I had to commit to live in New Zealand every so often….this trip will help me keep my passport and my citizenship. As for what I do... that's a story for another time," I said with a teasing smile.

"Two passports and you're the head coach of the All Blacks. You're a woman of many secrets," he said, a genuine smile returning to his face. "I can't wait to hear the rest of the story when you have time. Be careful out there….you’re far tinier than the players!”

“I’m three times as feisty and seven times as mean as any of the players on and off the field,” I said. “When they see me, they know that their asses are mine! Proverbially of course!

Matteo kissed me again, a sense of awe in his eyes. "Be safe," he murmured. "I'll see you when you get back."

“You got, Matteo,” I said. “Go find the love of your life.”

I turned and followed Bongo to his car. Like me, he has dual citizenship and has a driver's license in both countries. Halfway to the private airport, I asked Bongo if we would really have privacy and asked if Jane was in rehab again.

“Yeah, sweetie,” he sighed. “We’ll have privacy and yes, she’s in rehab again. Still alcohol and sex.”

“Tennis coach?”

“All three of them.”

We were silent for the rest of the trip to the airport. Once we arrived, Bongo drove on the tarmac up to the plane. Airport staff unloaded the SUV and asked which bags I needed and Bongo said that there’s enough storage in the passenger area and it was fine – just to make sure that is balance out for safety purposes. They nodded and loaded the plan with my bags and Bongo’s overnight bag.

In an hour, we were cleared for takeoff.