The weight of leaving

Once the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher, Ronan and I moved to the couch. The soft hum of the machine filled the quiet between us as we sat down. For a while, we just existed in the same space — him leaning back, me tucking my legs beneath me, both of us letting the weight of the day settle.

He was the first to speak. “It’s strange,” he said, glancing toward the kitchen. “Feels like the first real evening I’ve had in months. Just quiet.”

I gave a small nod. “Quiet is good sometimes.”

He smiled faintly. “Yeah. I used to hate it. Now I find myself chasing it.”

I could relate. Silence wasn’t empty anymore — it was earned.

He looked over at me again. “You’ve been through a lot since you came back,” he said gently. “I hear bits and pieces but I only truly know what’s been going on with you medically.”

“I know,” I said. “It’s just easier not to talk about it.”

“I get that,” he said. “Still, I like hearing things from you — not from team whispers or the hospital staff.”

I gave him a look. “You’ve got sources?”

He chuckled softly. “You forget, people talk to their doctors. I don’t pry, but sometimes I hear things.”

“That sounds about right,” I said, half smiling “Everyone always has something to say.”

He took a breath, then said, “Since we’re catching up… I should tell you something.”

I turned toward him slightly, curious. “Okay.”

He hesitated for a second, then met my eyes. “I’ve dated a few people since you left the last time you were here years ago. Nothing serious, but there was one woman — a long time ago — that I almost married.”

I blinked. “Almost?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I proposed and she said yes. Then, a few months later, she broke it off. She said she realized I was in love with someone else.”

“Someone else?” I asked, though I already suspected where this was going.

He nodded. “You.”

I sat back, letting that sink in. “She never even met me.”

“She didn’t have to,” he said. “I talked about you more than I should’ve. She picked up on it before I did.”

My throat tightened slightly. “What happened between you?”

“She moved on,” he said. “Married my best friend five or six years later. They’re happy now and they’ve got two kids. No hard feelings between us. Just a strange piece of history.”

“That sounds a little complicated,” I said.

He gave a small laugh. “Not really too complicated.”

“True,” I said softly.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward — not at first. But the longer it stretched, the heavier it felt. I could feel his eyes on me, searching for something I wasn’t sure I could give him.

Finally, I nodded once, as if agreeing with something only I could hear. Then I dropped a bombshell on him — the truth I’d been holding back.

“When I’m done with the team,” I said evenly, “I’ll be leaving New Zealand and I won’t be returning any time soon.”

Ronan’s face froze for a second, surprise flashing first, then disbelief. “Wait… what?”

“I’m leaving,” I said quietly. “For a very long time.”

He leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. “Why? You’ve been settling back in — you’ve built something again. Why throw that away now?”

“Because staying here means reopening too many old doors,” I said. “And not all of them should’ve been opened in the first place.”

His expression shifted, cautious now. “You mean Scott?”

A humorless chuckle escaped me. “Among others.”

He didn’t speak — just waited. Ronan had always been good at silence, at giving space for truth to crawl out on its own.

“You’ve heard the rumors,” I said finally.

He hesitated, then nodded slowly. “I did. But I didn’t believe them.”

“It started on a night out a few days before I actually met any of the players and coaches,” I said. “Scott and I met at a karaoke night…he was singing and playing the bongos poorly but as I moved in the crowd to get closer to take a better look at him. I recognized him even though I couldn’t remember where. That next two nights, we fucked, having fun. When I met the team the morning after the second night – the morning that I was scheduled to meet the team, coaches and the owners, that’s when I realized why I recognized him….I had looked him up before agreeing to come here to help him and the team.”

“Did you know that he was married?”

“Not at first as he doesn’t often wear his wedding band.”

“How did you find out?”

“Jane walked in on us. After that, she started drinking and started cheating on him for him cheating on her.”

Ronan’s jaw tightened, but his tone stayed even. “And Charlie?”

“That was different,” I said, staring down at my hands. “That was heat and loneliness for both of us. We worked side by side, night after night, both of us running on fumes. It burned fast and hard, then it was over. He’s married now and has his own life, as you know. I don’t blame him for that.”

He looked at me for a long moment, then said quietly, “You could’ve told me.”

“You didn’t need to carry it,” I said. “And honestly? I didn’t need to say it. He and I knew it was just a fling.”

He leaned back slowly, the muscle in his jaw flickering. “So that’s it then? You’re leaving because of a few ghosts?”

“Not a few,” I said, meeting his gaze. “One in particular.”

His expression softened, curiosity edging into concern. “Who?”

“Patrick.”

His brow furrowed. “Patrick?”

“My stalker,” I said simply. The word hung heavy between us.

His face hardened instantly. “You mean the one who—”

“Yeah,” I cut in quietly. “The one who followed me for years. Who showed up at places I didn’t even know I’d be and hurt people just to get my attention. When I came back to New Zealand the second time, I thought he was gone but he found me here again. And when he did, things didn’t go well.”

Ronan sat still for a moment, absorbing that. “Is he still—”

“Dead,” I said bluntly. “He committed suicide at in a psych ward in a high notch prison about a week or so ago.”

He exhaled slowly. “You’ve been carrying all of that alone?”

I shrugged. “It’s what I do best.”

He leaned forward, his tone soft but steady. “You shouldn’t have had to.”

“I know.”

The dishwasher hummed faintly in the background, the sound weirdly grounding.

“So that’s your plan?” he asked after a long silence. “You’ll finish with the team, pack up, and vanish?”

“That’s the plan,” I said.

He sat back, shaking his head slowly. “You really are something else, you know that?”

“Something good or bad?” I asked, trying to smile.

He gave a half-laugh. “Something unstoppable. Even when you’re running away.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe I just know when to walk away before I break something else.”

He looked at me for a long time after that, his expression unreadable. Then he reached out, his hand brushing mine — brief, deliberate.

“You deserve peace, Deppgrl,” he said quietly. “But I’d be lying if I said I wanted you to find it somewhere else.”

I met his eyes. “I know.”

He nodded once, a silent truce between us. The hum of the dishwasher grew louder, filling the room as the last of the daylight faded through the window. He leaned over to kiss me. I let him kiss me, I pulled him closer and I deepened the kiss. After a few minutes, I pulled away.

“Ronan, I am so sorry. I can’t do this,” I said. “I’ll see you soon.”

Later that night, I drafted the email I promised myself I’d send:

To: Charlie, Barb, Owners
Subject: Notice of Resignation

Dear Charlie, Barb, and owners,

Effective immediately, my last day of work with the All Blacks will be in one week. I promise I will not say anything to anyone about my departure, and Scott will be able to return to work the day after I leave.

After I leave please the players and the coaches to that I loved working with them and enjoyed getting to know them. They taught me so much, and I will never forget them.

Thank you all for your trust, support, and understanding.

Sincerely,
Deppgrl Smith

Almost immediately, my phone buzzed. Barb called first.

“Deppgrl,” she said, voice urgent. “I just read your email. Are you serious? You’re leaving in a week?”

“I am,” I said evenly. “It’s necessary.”

“You can’t leave! Not like this. The team, the coaches… all of us.”

“I’ve structured everything. Scott returns the day after I leave. The players and coaches are covered. I can’t stay, Barb.”

She sighed. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I know,” I said. “But I need to leave. I have to.”

“I understand,” Barb said. “Do you need help getting a flight?”

“No, but thanks,” I said.

“Thank you for everything,” Barb.

“Bye, Barb,” I said.

We hung up and seconds later, Charlie called me.

“Deppgrl,” he said, tight voice. “I just saw your email. Can we talk?”

“Yes but I won’t change my mind,” I said firmly.

“I don’t understand. You’ve built so much, you’ve done everything—why leave?”

“Because my life outside this team needs me,” I said. “The past I’ve been balancing… Scott, Charlie, Vic, Patrick and now Ronan. I can’t keep doing it.”

He exhaled. “I wish you weren’t so stubborn.”

“This isn’t me being stubborn,” I said. “This is more peace of mind. I can’t stay here with my past with you and Scott. Ronan is now interested in me but I can’t stay.”

That night I started packing and shipping medications back to Vince, along with most of my personal items. Suitcases, tote bag, laptop, files—all organized. Ronan called repeatedly, each time going straight to voicemail. Not tonight.

The condo smelled faintly of cleaning spray and packing tape. I touched each box, feeling the weight of the week ahead, but clarity came with it. Tonight, I focused on finishing: one box, one shipment, one step closer to leaving.

I decided to call Vince to let him know that I was heading home, I am shipping some of my stuff and my meds to his place and that I wanted him to pick me up from the airport when I land. I didn’t know what time it was back home and I didn't care.

“’Llo?” Vince said as he answered the phone.

“Hey,” I said. “I am heading home in a week. Look for some of my luggage and my meds in a day or so.”

“Honey, what happened?” Vince asked. “My day or so or your day or so?”

“Scott, Vic, Ronan and Patrick,” I said. “I don’t know. I haven’t shipped anything out yet but there is a 24 hour place next door that ships stuff. I am swinging by there when we get off the phone. I’ll get a tracking number for you and give it to you.”

“Once I get the tracking information and get your stuff, I am booking the next flight and bring you home myself,” Vince said. “When is your last day?”

“You don’t have to come get me, Vin,” I sighed. “One week from today….well once week plus one day for you.”

“I am coming for you once I get and store your stuff, babe,” Vinc said.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll get you that tracking information as soon as I can, ok?”

“Ok, Deppgrl,” Vince said.

When we got off the phone, I put my ass in gear to pack all the stuff I didn’t need. I packed four of my suitcases and most of my meds then hauled them next door. The employee didn’t even bat an eye when I said that I was shipping so much stuff back home to Vince. I asked how much it was going to be. When the employee looked up at me, he realized who I was and said that the shipping costs would be free. I said that in a week that I’ll no longer be the coach and that I was heading home. I was still told that it would be free as it would cost $25,000 NZD to ship everything home including the insurance. I was dumbfounded with the cost but realized that it was mostly the insurance fees that jacked the price up. I thanked the employee. Once he hit a few buttons, he gave me the receipt. I thanked him.

I got back to my place, took a picture of the tracking information to Vince. He thanked me and said that he’d let me know when he got my stuff and put everything back in my house. I thanked him and went to bed.