The final whistle: until the dust settles

I woke a few hours later, showered, got dressed, and headed for the arena. On the way, I stopped by the café that Ronan owns for my usual coffee. Fergal and the rest of the staff greeted me warmly as I walked in, but Fergal already had my order waiting—along with an extra cup for later. I couldn’t have been more grateful. A new hire, still learning the ropes, rang me up, and I gladly paid. After slipping my card back into my wallet, I grabbed both coffees and continued toward the arena.

Halfway there, Ronan caught up to me.

“How come you left in a rush last night?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

I glanced over my shoulder and smiled faintly. “I can’t do this, Ronan.”

He frowned, eyes flicking to the two cups in my hands. “What do you mean?”

“I started my life here fifteen years ago as an assistant to the assistant, met Scott, not knowing he was married. Then came Charlie—we burned hot and fast. Patrick showed up after that, and no matter where I went, he followed me. For years. When I came back here, everything fell apart again. Scott and I struggled, Patrick came back with a vengeance, and then he... he killed himself in a high-security psych ward. And now the man I love—the one I actually care about—is married, and I knew it from the start. I knew his visit was the last time I’d ever see him. And then you—you barged back into my life, Ro.”

“Look, Deppgrl,” Ronan said quietly. “I love you. I’ve loved you for fifteen years. I’m not trying to fix you or make you rush into something you’re not ready for.”

“I’m leaving in a week,” I said softly. “It’s official as of last night.”

“You’re not leaving that soon without telling the owners,” he protested.

“I emailed them late last night,” I replied. “Barb and Charlie both tried to talk me out of it, but nothing they said changed my mind. Most of my things are already shipped to a friend’s place—they’ll move them into my house.”

His jaw tightened. “You can’t leave, D.”

“I have to,” I said quietly. “Patrick destroyed all of the good times I’ve had here. I’m leaving on Sunday. I have to wrap up everything here—including closing out my bank accounts that I’ve held for fifteen years—but I need to leave.”

“Am I able to visit you?” he asked hopefully.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Give me some time after I get home.”

He nodded. When we got to the arena, he hugged me tightly and then stepped back, letting me go on my way.

As I reached the turf, the Jasons took one look at me and knew something was wrong. Holland came up first. “We heard the owners were in a kerfuffle. Something about Scott coming back?”

Ryan added, “And we heard that you’re leaving.”

I sighed. “Scott’s coming back the day after I leave, and I won’t be returning for a long time. Patrick ruined almost everything here for me. You can’t tell anyone. I’m leaving in a week.”

They looked shocked. “Where did you hear the gossip?” I asked.

“We were passing the owners’ office and didn’t notice the door was ajar,” Holland admitted. “Once we heard your name and Scott’s name. We weren’t sure what to do or think as we were a bit shocked but we put it together.”

I nodded. “Not a word. I’ll tell the coaches tomorrow morning and email all the players before the plane takes off. I’ll say there was an emergency at home. I know you all learned so much from each other and your mental health team—they’ll stay with you a few more months—but I won’t have access to session notes or anything about the All Blacks once I step foot on the tarmac.”

They nodded, then both promised they wouldn’t say anything. Holland smirked. “Does this have anything to do with the very sexy Dr. Hayes?”

I couldn’t hide my expression. “He was a small part of it, but Patrick was the main cause. Once the dust settles, both of you and your families can visit anytime.”

They nodded enthusiastically. “We’d love that,” Ryan said.

“Now,” I said, smiling faintly, “we need to act normal—like we’re having a good chuckle—so no one gets tipped off.” They agreed, and the three of us headed to the turf.

The rest of the week passed in a flurry of drills, trust circles, and team outings. Players shared phobias, fears about the future, and personal stories. We went for coffee, dinners, and other team activities that had nothing to do with rugby. We laughed, joked, and created moments that were precious and fleeting. By the morning of my last day, I had left the condo early after a night spent packing, nerves taut and heart heavy. Vince had arrived during the night without my knowing as I had expected him after he stored most of my belongings at my house earlier in the week. When I reached the arena two hours ahead of schedule, I carefully placed the remaining items in Scott’s private office and left the condo key under Charlie’s door. Then I went to the turf.

Vince was there with the coaches and owners. He met me halfway. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to New Zealand sooner,” he said. “Timing was rough with Matteo, cleaning houses, and planning with the coaches and owners.”

I looked at Charlie, who shook his head: the coaches hadn’t been told. “Do the coaches know this is my last practice?” I asked Vince.

“No,” he admitted. “We planned a fun day instead.” I took his hand, feeling the warmth and reassurance, and we walked toward the coaches.

Gathered around, I addressed everyone. “I know rumors are buzzing, but I need to explain. Today is my last practice with the All Blacks for a long time—not because of you or the players, but because of my former stalker, Patrick, who committed suicide while on a suicide watch in a secure wing of a psych ward of a high security of a prison. He tarnished almost everything I held dear from here. I need time to heal, seek therapy, and take care of myself. I hope to return one day, but I need this time.” I sniffled, blinking back tears. “Once the dust settles, you and your families can visit me.”

Tears came, and each coach hugged me, some whispering words of comfort. The owners followed, encircling me in quiet support. Once the last hug was given, I assured them the players would be informed just before my plane took off.

Minutes later, the players joined us on the turf, their excitement infectious. They had no idea it was my last day with them for at least a year. “We need breakfast first!” one shouted, leading us to Aqeel’s food truck, Global Grub. I laughed. “Nothing makes a better breakfast than smoked meats!” Laughter followed, filling the morning air. The coaches, players, Vince, and I climbed onto the busses, heading to Scott’s neighborhood where Aqeel’s food truck is licensed to be. Aqeel and his staff plus his food truck colleagues and their staff had prepared a massive, eclectic breakfast. I had a half tray to myself: two pulled pork sandwiches, mac & cheese, and smoked beef. The players each took double portions from every offering. We laughed until we cried, we cried until we laughed and ate until full. When I got up to clear my area, the players took their cue from me. They cleaned up after themselves, found cleaning supplies to clean the picnic tables that the community set up and folded chairs.

I wandered over to Aqeel. “How much do I owe you, your team and everyone else?”

He smiled softly. “Vince covered it—and overpaid. We already sent some food to your freezer back home. If you need more, call me, and I’ll fly over to cook.”

“I’ll miss you and your food so much,” I said, hugging him tightly. “Goodbye, my dear friend. Thank you for everything!”

He hugged back, firm and warm. “It’s ‘bye for now.’ We’ll see you again.”

We loaded the busses again and went cosmic bowling. Hours passed as we worked off breakfast, laughing, joking, and competing. When it was time to leave, I returned my shoes to the counter. “How much do we owe?” I asked.

“Charlie had already paid,” he said.

 The owner, a devoted All Blacks fan, handed me collectible playing cards of myself with stats printed on them. I signed five – one of them was personalized just for him. The remaining fourteen would be sold and the signed ones would be sold at a higher price. Before I could ask about the proceeds, he said that all proceeds would be sent to Vince through a banking app and Vince would then give me the money. I nodded then left.

Back at the arena, a catered lunch awaited from a favorite restaurant of the players. Traditional Māori foods and local favorites were laid out. Some teased, “Coach Deppgrl has the palate of a six-year-old!” and we all laughed. Scott arrived, escorted by Charlie. I approached them, Charlie giving me a small, supportive nod. “Scott wanted to thank you and say goodbye in person,” Charlie explained.

I nodded, and Scott stepped forward. “I know this could have been handled by email or text, but it felt right to do it in person.” I acknowledged him with a polite nod, then returned to the turf, resolute. The Jasons looked worried. I blew the whistle, commanding attention. The players, coaches, and owners crowded around, murmuring and asking questions.

“Coach, is everything okay?” Amiri asked, worry in his eyes.

I took a deep breath. “Today is my last day with the All Blacks, at least for the foreseeable future. This isn’t about any of you or the team. It’s about personal reasons.”

“Personal reasons?” Amiri echoed, concerned.

“Yes,” I said softly. “I’ve been dealing with a stalker for years—Patrick. Recently, he took his own life while under watch in a secure facility. The impact on my life, on my heart, on the good experiences I had here, has been devastating. I need to step back, heal, and take care of myself.”

The players murmured among themselves, glancing at one another.

“I want you to know,” I continued, “that I love each of you and respect everything you’ve accomplished. You’ve worked so hard, taught me the meaning of the haka, taught me your sport and shown me the depths of your culture. Vince will take me home, and when things settle, you and your partners are welcome to visit me.”

“Do you know when you’ll be back?” Ryan asked quietly.

I shook my head. “Honestly, I don’t know. It could be a long time. I need the space to heal. Please pray to your gods and deities that I recover and can return someday.”

Several players stepped forward, hugging me, whispering words of comfort.

“Thank you, Coach. We’ll wait for you,” Amiri said softly.

“Take care of yourself,” another player added.

The coaches and owners joined in the hugs. Charlie, Barb, and the others offered quiet words of support. Scott stepped forward, and I extended my hand.

“Good luck,” he said simply.

I shook his hand. “I hope you continue the mental health work we started,” I replied.

“I will,” he nodded.

Vince and I stepped aside, and I turned to look at the team one last time, their faces a mix of sorrow and understanding. I knew the tears I had held back would come on the plane. “Don’t forget that you all make an impact on those around you and you made me a better person,” I said. “I love each and everyone of you guys. Thank you for everything!”

Vince had my luggage in Cathal’s car just outside security. I handed in my badge, placed all keys in an envelope for Charlie, and hugged Margeaux.

“Thank you for everything,” I said.

“Thank you for all the food that you shared with us, Coach….sorry, Deppgrl,” she said. “We don’t often get that.”

“You guys bust your butts day in and day out for all of us, keeping each of us safe every time we step foot on the grounds,” I said. “It was the least I could do. When I land, I’ll reach out to the owners to see if they can get you guys a bigger space and better pay.”

“Thank you, friend,” she said.

“Take care of yourself, Margeaux,” I said.

She smiled. “It was a pleasure. Take care.”

Vince and I got into the back seat of Cathal’s car and he drove us to the nearby airport. Charlie and the owners had arranged for me to use the team plane, as I was technically still a coach until I landed at the airport back home. On the tarmac, I hugged Cathal.

“Thanks for everything. Please send my thanks to your husband.”

He looked at me oddly. “I’ll tell Cosmos.”

“I know you’re married. After working for several governments, you pick up a few things,” I said with a small smile.

He nodded, smiling back. I leaned into the hug, tears pricking my eyes. Vince helped bring my things onto the plane, and Cathal promised he’d personally fly over with anything I might have left behind. I nodded silently and boarded.

Emily and Hector greeted me inside, happy to see me but saddened by my departure.

“We’re so sorry that you’re leaving us so soon after you arrived,” Emily stated as she hugged me.

“This is best for my health right now,” I told them softly. “I hope to return someday soon and watch a match as an observer rather than a coach.”

Emily asked, “Do you want anything before we take off?”

“Just water once we’re in the air,” I said. “Are Pierre and Markian starting and ending the flight?”

“They are,” Hector said as he hugged me. “Our other pilots are as good as they are.”

“They are,” I confirmed. “The hand-off on my way here was seamless.”

Within half an hour, the plane lifted off, and I finally let myself relax. Pierre and Markian turned off the seatbelt light. I kicked off my sandals, grabbed my blanket and leaned against Vince. He wrapped his arms around me, kissed me on the top of my head and I fell asleep.