14
Claire was in the solitude of her apartment when she got the urge to call home. She picked up her phone and clicked the favorited contact: MUM.
“Hi, Mum,” she said, smiling as she heard the click of her mom answering the line.
She pictured her mother, Suzanne Ashford, perched at her desk in the morning winter sun in her spacious white walled office or maybe in one of the sitting rooms at the Ashford estate outside of London.
She was likely surrounded by design magazines, a cup of tea, a large antique vase full of pink peonies.
She pictured her blonde hair now brushed with grey streaks pushed into a top knot using a pen, ready to be used at any moment.
Suzanne would have already brought her husband, Claire’s father, breakfast in his study.
Whatever the chef made, even though her mother can cook.
Dr. Cornelius Ashford, Ph.D., a businessman turned Doctor of Archeology and history enthusiast, would likely be lost in the daily paper.
Claire pictured her dad’s study in its warm hues and a large wooden oak desk facing the entry.
Floor to ceiling bookshelves that are filled to the brim with every book imaginable.
Or perhaps, they would be sitting together in the orangery, even though it would be rather cold already, given its October now and cold winter air would be setting in.
“Darling! Finally! How’s the new place? Tell me everything. You sound… settled.”
Claire glanced around. “Getting there. It’s small, but it’s mine. And the team’s been really good. Busy, but good. Everyone is really nice.”
There was a pause on the other end, that familiar shift in tone her mother always made when she had something else to say.
“Well, I thought you should know – I’ve just spoken with your father’s solicitor.
Everything in California is sorted. The flat’s officially off your name, and the last of the bills have been settled. You’re free of it, Claire.”
Claire closed her eyes, leaning against the counter as the words sank in. That flat had been a ghost – every invoice, every letter, a reminder of what she’d walked away from. “That’s… good,” she said quietly. “Thank you, Mum.”
“And the other matter,” her mother added delicately, “Jace reached out last week. I took care of it. He won’t bother you again. I did read in the tabloids, though, that he left football.”
For a moment, the only sound was the soft whirr of the apartment. The name stirred a dull ache somewhere deep inside her chest, but it didn’t have the same sharpness it used to.
“Ok. Thank you,” she said again, steadier this time. “Really. I love you, mum.”
Her mother, always filled with love, exhaled softly, the way she always did when she wanted to say more but knew better. “I’m proud of you, my love. You’ve done the hard bit. Now it’s time to live.”
“When will you and Dad be able to come down?” Claire asked. “You’ll never believe how rugby is down here. It’s like a whole ecosystem. There’s a family day, if you’re interested.”
“Oh, honey, we will come down once winter sets in, that family day sounds nice, let’s try to align with that week then,” She sounded hopeful. “We would love to go to the beach, maybe visit Hobbiton.”
Claire laughs, she never considered her parents wanting to see where they filmed Lord of the Rings, but she guessed that made sense.
“I got to go, Claire Bear, darling, we are going to finish up breakfast, then we have pickleball at the club after.”
“Ok,” Claire responded with a reassured chuckle, “I’ll text you after.”
The phone line clicked and Claire was left again with silence and relief. She was their only child, and she was happy to know that they are still active well into their 60’s.
What her mom said echoed in her mind. He left football. Does she dare look him up? She paces at her laptop. Then suddenly made the decision to Google it.
The search bar opens.
Jason Markey - she types.
And the first article that pops up reads:
“From Football Fields to Rugby Scrums: Jason Markey Joins U.S. National Rugby Team After Shocking Exit from the Los Angeles Harriers.”
Claire’s breath catches as she clicks it.
After months of speculation surrounding his abrupt departure from professional football, former Los Angeles Harriers tight end Jason Markey has officially signed with the U.S.
National Rugby Team. Sources close to Markey confirm the athlete began training with the squad earlier this year, citing a ‘need for a new challenge’ following his high-profile breakup and a string of tabloid controversies.
Markey, 31, is reportedly adapting quickly to the sport, leveraging his physicality and tactical vision on the field. His debut with the national side is expected during their upcoming international tour– rumored to include matches against top-tier teams around the globe.
When asked about his decision to switch sports, Markey stated only: “Sometimes you have to rebuild from the ground up.”
Claire stares at the screen, the cursor blinking beside his name.The ache in her chest returns, familiar, quieter now, but unmistakable.“Around the globe”, she reads again.
New Zealand.
Surely, he doesn’t know that she is there… Does he?
Claire closed the laptop with a soft click, the sound unnervingly final.
It didn’t matter; she told herself. He could play rugby, football, or bloody cricket if he wanted to. It had nothing to do with her anymore.
And yet, as she turned off the light and crossed the apartment toward the bedroom, she felt that faint, unwelcome tremor inside her chest – the one that came whenever Jace’s name reappeared in her orbit.
It was absurd, really. Half a world away, a new life, a new team, a new purpose – and still, he managed to find a way to rattle her peace.
She sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing a hand over her face. Rebuild from the ground up. His words from the article echoed faintly in her mind.
“Yeah,” she murmured to the quiet room. “Guess we both did.”
She laid back and stared at the ceiling, the night filling the space around her. Outside, the faint sounds of laughter drifted through the window – life, moving forward. She forced herself to focus on that instead.
On her side table, she saw the welcome packet and the spiral bound notebook that Miriam from HR gave her.
UNION RUGBY EMPLOYEE HANDBOOK
Curiosity took hold. She flipped to the page about employee relationships.
The organization maintains a professional work environment while recognizing that consensual relationships may develop between employees.
Romantic or intimate relationships between players and staff are permitted provided they do not involve members of the coaching staff or anyone in a direct supervisory, evaluative, or decision-making role over the player.
All such relationships must be voluntary, conducted professionally, and must not interfere with team operations, performance, or workplace conduct.
To prevent conflicts of interest, favoritism, or the appearance of impropriety, individuals involved in a relationship must not receive preferential treatment, advancement, special assignments, or exemptions from team policies as a result of the relationship.
Both parties are expected to maintain clear professional boundaries while on team premises, during team activities, and in public representations of the organization.
Failure to disclose a relationship that creates a potential conflict of interest, or behavior that compromises team integrity, may result in corrective action in accordance with organizational policy.
Reading this gave Claire some pause. Maybe it will be ok to flirt… a little? She has a lot to consider now.
Tomorrow will be another day at the pitch. Another chance to prove she belonged here. And this time, she promised herself, the past would stay exactly where it belonged.
It seemed every week was different.
Ireland.
Their arrival was the talk of the week – one of the most physical teams in the sport, famous for their bruising scrums and sharp discipline. Even the staff seemed to stand a little taller knowing they’d have to match that energy.
Claire was juggling clipboards and comms as she was walking with purpose down the hallway lined with men in large bins filled with ice water. They were shivering and whooping to each other.
“Good Morning, Doc!” yelled Toby.
“Ready for today?” Claire hollered back.
Toby shivered from the ice. “Why do you do this to us?”
“Buck up!” Kelsey yelled over to Toby. In response Toby flicked the underside of Kelsey’s flabby left breast. Claire heard the chuckles from the team in the distance as she kept in motion until she made it to her office.
After lunch, the door to the Med Box opened.
A short and stout red-headed man walks confidently through the door.
Dr. Fallon was written on his windbreaker’s left breast and MEDIC written on the back.
She introduced herself and had a joint staff meeting before leading the Irish visitors out to the field.
Out on the pitch, the team was starting light drills, their black kits glinting under the sun.
The grandstands were already filling, a wave of green for Ireland and black jerseys for New Zealand were appearing, as fans trickled in early, waving flags and singing.
The electric buzz of it seeped through the concrete walls.
Claire appeared at Tania’s shoulder, headset crooked. “You’d think it was the World Cup, not a regular-season test.”
Tania grinned faintly. “In Auckland, every match feels like one.”
As the Irish medics settled into their section, she glanced through the tent flaps toward the field, spotting Noah talking with press near the tunnel entrance; steady, calm, but there was something sharper in his stance today.
It was like he had something to prove, whether it be to the fans, Ireland, himself, or someone else.
To Claire’s excitement, he was going to lead the Haka again with the team.