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.

Either way, Stephanie is going to be an excellent mom and I can’t wait to see what kind of terribly attractive human being she’s going to pop out. I think I’ll have to fly back to San Francisco just for that.

I’m also in constant contact with my all of my brothers. In fact, I’m far closer with them than I ever was before and I think that wherever my mother is hanging out with my father that they’re probably happy that we’ve all finally found each other.

The people beside us start chanting something in favor of Edinburgh as the teams come together in the field. We watch as the scrum takes place, Edinburgh pushing Munster back until Thierry gets the ball at the back of the players and quickly tosses it under to another guy who then tosses it to Lachlan who is waiting in the wings.

Lachlan makes a run for it, the ball under his arm, even though the other team has players going for him, watching his every move. They’re always on him like a hawk.

But they never have his speed.

Watching him run is as impressive to me now as the first time I ever saw him on the field. He moves with such passion that you can’t help but compare him to a wild stallion or a feral bull, galloping toward freedom, moving like he was born to move.

I hold my breath as goes. So does everyone.

A player goes to tackle but Lachlan makes a move to sidestep before changing his mind and then plows through them. The guy goes down and Lachlan keeps running, legs and arms pumping, carrying him along so fast you think he’s going to break the sound barrier. He’s a hot blur of ink and muscle.

Someone else moves in front, blocking him, but Lachlan only bounces off and keeps going. He punts the ball down the field, side steps someone else, then keeps running until he meets up with the ball again.

By now we’re all screaming, on our feet, waving everything we can wave because he’s feet from making a try and winning the game.

And Lachlan just picks up that ball like it was always there waiting for him and runs across the line, making a dramatic dive onto the grass and sliding on his stomach. I know that was just for show but the crowd fucking loves it.

I fucking love it.

It’s rare to see him showboat so I know he’s got to be feeling good right now.

So am I. I’m screaming my head off, jumping up and down with Amara.

Lachlan gets to his feet, tossing the ball on the ground, smiling so big that happy fucking tears are winding down my face. The rest of his team runs out to hug him, jumping around, celebrating their win during the first game of the season.

He’s so getting laid tonight.

But then he does something funny. He runs away from his mates, away from the opposing team who is ready to shake hands, and heads toward the camera men on the sidelines. His coach Alan follows him, quickly passing something off into Lachlan’s hands before he runs back to the team. Lachlan then talks to one of the camera men until a reporter comes over, seeing an opportunity for an interview.