64. Kai
Kai
Isquirm in my seat that’s far too small for my body as I wait for the people ahead of me on the plane to exit.
The scent of stale coffee and food linger in the air like fog, making my stomach even more uneasy.
I’m itching to get off the flight, eager to say the words I’ve been reciting for three hours to the one person that I know needs to hear them.
I’m also terrified of what will happen when I find her, but even more scared of what will happen if I don’t.
I check local coffee shops, bookstores, museums, restaurants, and art galleries in Durham first. Places I know Kendall would likely be drawn to.
The majority of them are small holes in the wall, that most people wouldn’t give a second glance.
But Kendall isn’t most people. She has a knack for finding the beauty in forgotten, overlooked things.
Having virtually no luck at any of those, I make my way to Duke.
It’s stunning, pristine, and meticulously cared for even in winter.
The sprawling lawns, gothic architecture, and lush greenery draw me in instantly.
No wonder Kendall fell in love with this place when she first came to visit in eighth grade.
It’s unique and beautiful exactly like her.
I stroll around campus, and into a few different buildings hoping to see her face, the one that’s been plaguing my dreams.
After two and a half hours of searching for her with no success, I stop to sit on a bench and clear my head.
She has to be here somewhere. If she’s enrolled in fall semester classes, then she has to be somewhere on this campus.
The dorms, an apartment building, a lecture hall, a dining hall.
Somewhere. My phone buzzing in my pocket interrupts my anxiety ridden thoughts.
“Hey, Dad, I can’t really—”
But his deep demanding voice cuts me off. “Kai? I was just at your apartment hoping to catch up with you after practice. Are you going to be home soon?” he asks briskly. So typical of my father. He doesn’t even have the decency to ask how I’m doing.
“No, Dad. I’m not going to be home soon. I’m not even in Boston,” I sigh, running my hands through my hair. It feels thick and a little greasy.
When is the last time I showered?
“What do you mean you aren’t in Boston? You didn’t go to practice today?” he huffs disapprovingly.
“I’m in North Carolina,” I reply. I tilt my chin up to the sky, pinching the bridge of my nose as I wait for my dad’s response.
“What the hell are you doing in North Carolina when you should be at practice, Kai? You do recall you are an important contributing member of the NHL now, right?” God he can be such a condescending prick.
“It’s nothing, Dad. I’m flying back tomorrow morning and I’ll be home in time for practice,” I say flatly. I don’t have the time or patience for him right now.
“It sure as hell isn’t nothing if you are flying off on a whim and missing practice,” he barks. “I thought you were done partying and fucking around. I thought you were ready to lock in and get your head right. You said you were going to be focused. You need to be focused, Kai.”
“I am. I’m trying. There’s just some things I need to do.”
“Is this about Kendall?” He says her name like it’s an annoyance, an inconvenience rather than the love of my fucking life.
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” That’s it. No follow up, no questions. Nothing. He’s a piece of fucking work. The least he can do is pretend to give a shit.
“Yeah, okay. Just,” there’s a brief pause.
“You know what, never mind.” I’m holding my breath waiting for him to say something, anything that would indicate he cares about this major disruption to my life.
This hole in my heart I’ve been trying to fill with so many things that all eventually added up to nothing. But I know by now he isn’t going to.
“Listen, I got to go. Thanks for the wellness check. I’ll talk to you later,” I say, hanging up on him.
I’m already preparing myself for the inevitable, for what happens when this doesn’t work.
If I can’t find Kendall. The moment I have to force myself to move on without her.
I can’t deal with my dad’s bullshit and his need to control everything and everyone around him on top of it.
It feels like the walls are closing in on me, my world collapsing around me.
If there is one person who knows what that is like, who has been there, who can help me see my way through it, it’s my mom. She picks up on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Hey, mom.”
“Hey, Kai, is everything okay? Are you with your dad?” she asks.
“No. I just talked to him though.” I pause. “I’m in North Carolina.”
“You’re in North Carolina…” she repeats.
“Yup.”
“Because?”
I take a deep breath. “Because I thought maybe I could find her,” I clarify.
“Ah okay. You thought you would fly down there, find her, make a grand gesture, and right all the wrongs?” she offers.
I laugh dryly. “Yeah, I mean it sounds kind of ridiculous when you put it like that,” I admit.
“Not ridiculous. I know how much she meant to you, means to you. You guys were each other's first loves. You were together for almost six years. That’s longer than most people’s marriages last nowadays. That’s not nothing, Kai.”
No, it isn’t. In fact, to me, it feels like everything. She feels like everything.
“Not you and dad though. You guys have been happily married for what? Twenty years now?” I ask.
“Twenty-six next year. You know what that means though, don’t you? You guys were together for so long it’s going to take a lot longer than you want to recover from it.”
“I’m not ready to let her go, Mom. I love her. I was going to marry her. I’m still not convinced that I won’t someday,” I respond, feeling my pocket for the small velvet box that was there. “What do I do?” I ask hopelessly.
“You keep looking. You keep searching. If you find her, you fight like hell for her. If you don’t, I think you try letting her go. Whatever that looks like. If it’s meant to work out with her, it will. Maybe she just needs some time and space right now.”
“Okay, but what do I do with—“
“With all the pain?” she asks intuitively.
“Yeah.”
“Write it down. Get it out. Put it in words somewhere. It doesn’t matter if you send it to her or not.
The letter isn’t for her. It's for you, okay? Write down everything you want to say to her, you need to say to her. Then you try to move forward the best you can. Put one foot in front of the other, just do the next right thing.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re pretty wise?”
“All the time.” I can hear her smiling through the phone.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome. I love you, Kai. It’s going to be okay, you know.”
“How do you know?”
“Let’s just say I have a sixth sense about these things. And really, there isn’t any other option, is there?”
“Yeah, I guess not.”
Later on my return flight home, I reflect on the past twenty-four hours.
My spur of the moment decision to board a plane for North Carolina and my frantic search for Kendall.
My fleeting glimpses of hope mixed with the impending feeling of dread.
My father’s obvious disdain and my mother’s words of guidance.
I’d been unsuccessful in finding her, leaving me feeling more defeated than ever.
I could never quite figure out what I did right in my life to deserve Kendall.
As a friend or a partner. But I also never thought I did anything that warranted losing her either.
Not like this. Not without any fucking answers.
I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I’m not ready to give her up and I doubt I ever will be.
Some piece of me will always belong to her.
I have my career to look forward to, but what is that worth, what does that mean without her? I guess I’m about to find out.
I take out a piece of paper from my carry on and begin writing.