Off the Air

by L.H. Cosway

  “M-maybe we should go inside,” I said, wobbling as I tried to stand.

  Cal stood and grabbed my elbows to steady me, his eyes holding mine. They were green, so beautifully vibrant, and all I saw in them was care and concern.

  I didn’t deserve it. No matter how difficult he could be, I was the one who’d brought this pain on us. I was the one who’d been careless, who hadn’t paid enough attention to my own body to know something was different, who’d taken a risk. And afterward, when Cal needed emotional support just as much as I did, I’d been the one who pushed him away.

  Seventeen

  Leanne

  The need to vomit woke me up.

  Michaela was sleeping soundly next to me in the giant bed. Careful not to wake her, I pushed the covers off and ran across the suite before locking myself in the bathroom. My knees hit the cold tiled floor milliseconds before I emptied my guts right into the toilet bowl.

  Ugh.

  This is what happens when you drink an entire bottle of Tequila, you stupid little fucker.

  I mentally berated myself while my body did its best to purge everything inside.

  I kept thinking this had to be the last heave, but my body kept going, like it knew what I’d put in there was poison and it wanted everything out. Tears streamed down my face as I shivered, waves of nausea rippling through me. There had never been a more pathetic sight than me slumped on the bathroom floor of a five-star lodge praying to whatever all-seeing being was up there to make this stop.

  Maybe the moon was God and the stars its angels, my still drunk brain mused before my body heaved again. I was sick of doing this to myself, sick of wallowing in self-hatred and regret. It needed to stop and I needed to quit using alcohol as a crutch. The same thing happened when my sister Lorna announced she was having my nephew. I’d spiralled then too. Was I going to break down every time someone close to me got pregnant?

  I couldn’t live like that.

  I needed to accept my mistakes, forgive myself, and move on.

  I flushed the toilet then opened the window, cleaned myself up and brushed my teeth. When I went back out into the bedroom, Michaela was still sleeping. I grabbed my phone, pushed open the patio door and stepped outside. It was almost six o’clock, the early morning sun and soft breeze gentle on my nauseated skin. I knew it was way too early to call home, but I needed to hear my mum’s voice.

  Yes, I’d always been independent, but sometimes I just needed my mum. She was a kind, gentle woman. My sister, Lorna, had taken after her, whereas I was much more like my dad; wary, suspicious, disagreeable. When it came to my parents, opposites had definitely attracted. They were fire and water.

  Cal and I were fire and fire. We burned bright but were doomed to self-destruct. There was never any water to stem the flames.

  Mum answered after several rings, her voice tired. “Leanne? Have you any idea what time it is?”

  It wasn’t even five o’clock in the morning in London and I felt guilty for waking her, but I needed this.

  “I’m sorry, Mum,” I said, and just like that I started crying. “I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you.”

  “Oh, honey,” she said, hearing my distress. “What’s the matter?”

  And just like a dam breaking, I told her everything. Mum was the sort of person you could tell anything and know you wouldn’t be judged for it. I told her what had been going on with Cal, the things I’d realised about myself, how I didn’t think I ever really got over the miscarriage.

  “Leanne,” Mum said softly. “Why don’t you come home now? I’m sure if you explain everything to Barry, he’ll understand. You’re not in the right state of mind to keep working.”

  “No, we’re almost done filming. I just need to finish up the season and then I can focus on fixing myself,” I said, determined.

  “You’re not broken, darling. You’ve just never allowed yourself to heal.” Her words were a soothing balm to my distress. My parents and sister had spent the last three years trying to convince me to slow down, talk to a therapist, sort my head out, but I always fought against it. I thought if I kept moving forward then what happened in the past couldn’t drag me down. But it was dragging on me, slowly, insidiously, a small bit every day.

  I stared out at the view, endless miles of South African plain. The morning light took away all the mystery shrouded darkness of the night before. It was beautiful, and I was so lucky just to be here, in such a magnificent place. I was lucky to have my dream job and to work with a bunch of guys who were family to me. And yes, that included Cal. No matter what, we’d always share a connection. We couldn’t erase the chain of loss that linked us.

  And though we both blamed ourselves for what happened, none of it was anyone’s fault. Learning how to accept that truth was the challenge that lay ahead of me.

  I hung up the phone with Mum, promising to check in with her tomorrow. Then I sat in the quiet. Last night out here had felt eerie, dangerous even. But now the sun had risen, and it was only peaceful. I needed to figure out how to let my own sun rise, to finally find some peace.

  In the distance, I spotted a lone giraffe. With its long, elegant neck, it walked slow, as though taking in the scenery. It was too far away to get a decent picture, so I just sat there and watched, tried to exist in the moment and not think about the hurdles to come.

  A cold, clammy sweat covered my skin and even the idea of drinking a glass of water made me feel ill, never mind eating anything. I knew I was in no state to film today and would need to go to Barry and ask for the day off.

  Fun!

  Back in the room, I put on some clothes and went in search of our director, who thankfully was already awake. I lied and told him I had “lady issues”, so I’d stay here at the lodge an extra few hours and take a bus back to the city tonight. I think he agreed merely to escape me going into more detail about what exactly “lady issues” entailed. When I returned to my room, Michaela was by the mirror, clipping a necklace around her neck.

  “Hey, um, can you do me a favour and go down to reception? I need you to book me a late checkout.”

  “Sure, but…you don’t look too hot, Leanne. Is everything okay?”

  I shook my head. “I drank too much last night, but don’t tell Barry. He’s given me the day off. He thinks it’s period cramps.”

  Her soft, kind eyes dipped down as she came and rubbed my shoulder. “It will probably be good for you to have some time to yourself anyway. Get into bed and relax. I’ll book the late checkout and order up some breakfast.”

  “Thank you,” I exhaled. “You’re the best.”

  She went, and I shoved off my jeans before climbing into bed. A little while later there was a knock on the door. Too sick to get up and answer it, I called for whoever it was to come in. The same guy who’d delivered the tequila last night carried a breakfast tray into the room. When he left, I decided I was still too nauseous to eat, so I rolled over and drifted, not quite asleep, not quite awake.

  I didn’t know how much time passed when I was disturbed by another knock. Thinking it was Michaela giving me a moment to make myself decent, I simply called for her to come in. She didn’t. The knocking continued, so I groaned and climbed out of bed. Opening the door a few inches, I found Cal standing there. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, sunglasses in place.

  “What do you want?”

  “Barry said you’re sick.”

  “Yes, but I’ll be fine. It’s just the tequila flu.”

  His lips twitched in amusement before his expression turned serious. In my current state, I’d almost forgotten he’d sat with me outside last night, drunk as a skunk and bemoaning my pathetic existence. I couldn’t remember leaving him, or how I’d gotten back to my room, but the look on his face told me I’d said or done something I’d be embarrassed about if I could actually remember it.

  I winced. “What did I do?”

  Cal’s mouth formed a concerned frown as he slid his sunglasses up his head. “You, uh…”
A pause as he scratched the back of his neck. “You didn’t do anything.”

  “Then what did I say?”

  “You were drunk.”

  “Cal, just tell me.”

  He glanced down at the floor then back to me. His eyes wandered to my bare legs before rising to my face. “You asked me to hold you while you slept.”

  Oh, God. I groaned and turned around, leaving the door open while I went to grab a glass of water from the table. My breakfast tray still sat there, untouched. I downed the glass in two gulps then poured another, suddenly thirstier than I’d ever been. Since he hadn’t shared my bed, he clearly said no. This season had completely unravelled me. I started it determined to stay as far away from Cal as possible. Now it seemed we’d switched roles.

  “You were sharing with Michaela anyway, so—"

  I slammed the empty glass down on the table, already embarrassed enough without having to listen to his explanation. “I’m staying here an extra few hours. You should go. I’m sure everyone’s downstairs getting ready to leave.”

  “They are, but I think I’ll stay here too. Take care of you,” he said, voice soft. I couldn’t handle him talking to me like that right now, because my willpower was as weak as my stomach. The idea of Cal staying here with me, making me feel cared for was tempting, but I couldn’t do it. Besides, I didn’t deserve his comfort. I’d done this to myself.

  “You don’t need to stay. A few hours rest and I’ll be right as rain.”

  He studied me a long moment, then finally said, “Okay, but if you need anything, call me.”

  I nodded weakly and he turned to leave. I don’t know why, but when he reached the door, I blurted, “I’m going to see a therapist when we get home.”

  Cal’s expression morphed into a mixture of concern and relief. “Good, that’s…” he paused to clear his throat, “good.”

  “I think it’s about time I finally addressed my issues.”

  He held my gaze, not breathing a word. Then, in a flash, he strode back to me. Silently, he took my face in his hands and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. He exhaled, dropped his hands and walked back to the door. Not facing me, he repeated, “I’m just a call away.”

  “I know,” I breathed and then he was gone.

  I managed to push down a slice of dry toast and a cup of tea. When I got back into bed, it was hard to fall asleep because I just kept thinking of Cal. For the first time, I wondered if I actually deserved him. Given all the crap I’d put him through these last few years, probably not. Sure, he hadn’t been the easiest person to be with either, what with his jealous behaviour and short temper, but in spite of this, he’d always been open and willing to try and make things work.

  I was the stubborn one who said no, too frightened of being hurt again.

  To distract myself, I pulled up a movie scene playlist on my phone and watched Jennifer Hudson sing about betrayal in Dream Girls. I watched Drew Barrymore’s evil stepmother rip her wings in Ever After. I watched the little old man’s wife die at the start of Up. They were all scenes that made me cry. It felt cathartic to feel someone else’s pain, even if they were all fictional.

  Finally, I drifted off for a few hours and woke up feeling a little better. I took a bath, then later I sat outside and watched a herd of antelope in the distance. Maybe they were the same ones from yesterday. I realised I rarely did this anymore. I didn’t often have days where I stopped and just took a moment to breathe.

  I rode a bus full of tourists back to the city that evening and it was late when I arrived at the house. I climbed from my taxi and hitched my backpack over my shoulder when something caught my eye. Someone was sitting up on the roof.

  Cal.

  I dropped my bag on the porch and climbed the wall at the side of the house before hopping over onto the roof.

  I thought I was being stealthy and ninja-like, but without even turning to look at me Cal spoke, “What are you doing up here, Leanne?”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  “You’re not the only one who needs alone time.”

  I swallowed. “Do you want me to leave?”

  Finally, he looked at me, his eyes travelling up my body. He shook his head then turned his attention to the sky. I sat down next to him, resting my arms on my knees.

  “I’m trying to pick out constellations,” he said after a few moments of quiet.

  He was? It still made my chest flutter to think he’d taken an interest in astronomy because of me. The idea of Cal sitting down and taking the time to read a book really got my libido fired up. There was just something sexy about a man who read.

  “Can you see Aquila?” I asked. “It’s one of my favourites.”

  Cal’s shoulder nudged mine. “Show me.”

  There was an intensity in his voice that made me shiver. I pointed up at the sky, mapping out the pattern for him. “It’s the shape of an eagle,” I said.

  “I see it,” he replied quietly, pausing before he continued, “Why are you so fascinated by stars?”

  I smiled wistfully. “I think the question should really be, why aren’t more people fascinated by them? Every night we can see these miraculous balls of gas that are literally billions of years old right above our heads and nobody takes a minute to stop and realise how incredible that is. How small we are in comparison. Our entire lives are only a fraction of a fraction of a second in the life of a star, maybe even a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a second. When I think about that, at least for a small moment, all my silly, petty little worries seem so pointless. If I could just figure out a way to extend the moment…”

  His face was tender. “We all worry, Leanne. It’s part of being human.”

  I shook my head. A few years ago, I never would’ve expected Cal to speak like this. He’d matured in a way that made me feel inadequate by comparison. “When did you get to be so wise?”

  He didn’t answer, and instead reached out, touching his fingers to the spot beneath my eye. When he withdrew, he held a fallen eyelash on the tip of his finger. “Make a wish.”

  I closed my eyes. I didn’t even need to think about it. I knew what I wanted.

  I wish for Callum Davidson to find happiness. Because after everything we’ve been through, he deserves it.

  I blew on the eyelash.

  He studied me. “Not going to tell me what you wished for?”

  “Everybody knows wishes need to be kept secret, otherwise they don’t come true.”

  Cal chuckled softly. “That’s right. My bad.”

  I looked away. Down below the pool was empty and all lit up, the reflection of the water glimmering against the lights.

  “How are you feeling?” Cal asked.

  “Better than this morning. I just, well, I’m looking forward to wrapping up this season so I can get home and work on some stuff. It’s been a long time coming.”

  I felt him studying my profile and tried to ignore how his assessment made me feel so laid bare. It always did. “You said something else last night,” he murmured.

  I stiffened, unable to meet his gaze. “What did I say?”

  It took him a moment to answer, like he struggled to form the right words. In the end, it became apparent that there weren’t any. “You said you blame yourself for losing our baby.”

  Just like that, tears formed and I sniffled. “Yeah, well, that’s one of the things I need to work on.”

  Cal’s voice was scratchy. “The, uh, the day it happened, I spoke to your sister.”

  I glanced at him. “I didn’t know that.”

  “She told me that what happened wasn’t anybody’s fault. It took me a long time to accept that. I’m still not sure I have fully.”

  Now I looked at him. “Why? You weren’t the one who jumped that day.”

  “Yes, but if it weren’t for me, all you would’ve suffered was a few broken ribs. I should’ve taken better care with you.”

  I shook my head. “That’s ridiculous.”

 
“Is it as ridiculous as you blaming yourself for jumping when you had absolutely no idea you were pregnant?” he countered fiercely. I had no response. Cal’s expression softened as he swore and pulled me to him. “Come here.”

  He wrapped his arm around me while I rested my head on his shoulder. His warmth was a comfort I badly needed. I felt him press a kiss to my temple and suppressed a shiver.

  “I guess we both need to learn to forgive ourselves,” I said in the quietest voice.

  “Yeah,” Cal breathed, staring out into the distance. “I guess we do.”

  Eighteen

  Leanne

  “So, if our planet is within the observable universe, and the multiverse is outside of our universe, then what’s outside of the multiverse?” Paul asked.

  “Well,” I replied. “That’s the whole point of the multiverse theory. It describes everything that exists, even the stuff we haven’t discovered yet.” If I was honest, it made me infinitely sad to know those discoveries wouldn’t happen until long after I was dead and gone, if they ever did at all.

  “But no matter how big it is, there has to be something outside of it, right? There’s always something outside of something else,” Paul argued.

  “What weed have you been smoking?” James asked with a chuckle.

  “I’m trying to explain astronomy to him,” I said. “But he keeps bamboozling me with questions.”

  Currently, we were outside the FNB Stadium close to Soweto. Our challenge was to find a way of climbing to the roof. It was night and we all wore dark clothes. Even though the filming was legit, I still felt a little like an intruder, like we were up to no good. It gave me that excited thrill in my stomach.

  The giant stadium stood empty, thousands upon thousands of vacant seats going up. We walked down the centre of the pitch, while Isaac ran ahead and did three perfect backflips. Cal walked close by. After our heart-to-heart last night, things had been pretty good between us, friendly even.

  All of a sudden, Trev ran by us shouting, “Last one to the top has to pay for dinner.”