All It Takes

by Clare Dugmore

  That sort of thing has got to stop. He’s only trying to help.

  “Well, I’m glad you came. There’s a few things I wanted to talk about.”

  Ollie raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. You know when I called the other week and said I wanted to sort my shit out? Well, this is the wake-up call I needed.”

  “I take it you’re in high spirits despite everything, then?”

  “More like determined, I’d say. I wanna start fixing this mess.”

  “That’s great, Kian, and I’m glad to be here to help. Someone cancelled their appointment so I have some time now if you want to talk? Or would you prefer to wait until you’ve been discharged?”

  “No time like the present.”

  Ollie smiled and crossed his legs so his left ankle was resting on his right knee. “Okay. What would you like to talk about first?”

  “The fight.”

  “What’re your thoughts about the fight?”

  “Matthews is a bastard, and he cheated,” I said without hesitation.

  “Do you have any thoughts why Matthews cheated to win?”

  I rolled my neck and closed my eyes against the throbbing in my head for a moment. “Because he’s a tosser?”

  Ollie laughed. “I’ve never met the man, so I can’t say. But perhaps it’s worth looking at other reasons, too. Does Matthew have a reputation for cheating?”

  I sighed. “Nah. He’s squeaky clean, that one. Cheap shots are more my style.”

  “What do you think would have made this usually ‘squeaky clean’ person act out of character?”

  I fell silent as I considered Ollie’s words, and thought about everything that’d happened in the lead up to the Matthews fight. The incident with Bagley, the interview with Johnson, my threat at the weigh-in to put Matthews in his place. If someone I was going up against had done all those things, I’d have taken a cheap shot just to wipe the smug smile of his face.

  A dull ache settled in my chest as I realised the truth. “I brought this on myself, didn’t I?”

  “It’s not about what we bring on ourselves. Do you remember the last time we spoke, we talked about cause and effect. Sometimes we can avoid bad situations by carefully choosing what we do and how we act when presented with negative circumstances.”

  “So what? I deserved to be smacked in the head, lose my title, and end up in hospital?” I clenched my fists to my sides, and next to me, the heart monitor sped up.

  Ollie looked across at it. “Why does this make you so angry?”

  “Because that was my title, and Matthews stole it from me.”

  “Let’s back this up a little. How did you find your training going into the fight?”

  “Fine. I’m in the best shape of my life.”

  “What was it last time? Five-days a week, 9-7?”

  “Well I’ve cut back a bit. I’ve had some other stuff going on.”

  “So you haven’t been training as much?”

  I blew out a long breath and tried to contain myself. “Erm. I guess not, no. I thought I had been…”

  “Think of everything – everyday life – like cooking. If you’re frying a steak with a prime cut from the local butcher that’s been matured and tenderized, you know the meal you’re going to get out of it will be excellent. If you use a cheap cut of meat that’s been hanging around in the fridge for a few days, and is probably past its best, you’re likely going to end up with something less impressive.

  “What you put into life, you get back out. If you make the decision to belittle people - or even not put 100 percent into something - then people aren’t going to treat you how you want to be treated.”

  “So I’m supposed to let people walk all over me?”

  “No, not at all. But there’s a difference between being assertive and being aggressive. Saying ‘I am going to beat you’ has a different connotation to ‘I’m going to kill you.’ Do you see the difference?”

  I slumped back against the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. What Ollie said wasn’t new to me. We’d been through this before. What I didn’t know was how to stop it. I didn’t intentionally set out to be a prick. It was an automatic defence mechanism. But a defence against what?

  I sat up, opened my mouth to speak, and then flopped back down again, balling my fists into the hospital blanket and letting out a low growl.

  “How do I fix this? How do I stop ‘dickish’ being my default response?”

  “The counting and breathing exercises I taught you in the past will help, so you give yourself time to think before reacting to a situation. But it will also help to get to the root of the issue, and find out why it’s your default response. CBT is always an option, too.”

  Cognitive behavioural therapy; not something I was so eager to try. It was hard enough coming to therapy regularly and talking to Ollie about all the shirt in my head, let alone anything more. I let out a dry laugh. “Yeah...”

  “Don’t get disheartened, we’ve only just started. We’ll keep meeting regularly and get to the bottom of this.”

  “And until then?”

  “Keep talking. Keep being open with people. And I can prescribe you some medication in the short term to take the edge of your negative emotions and help you get a handle on things.”

  “Nah, I don’t wanna go there again. I wanna keep a clear head.”

  “Its early days, but we’ll go over this more next time we meet. Call me anytime if you change your mind.”

  “Yeah, I will. And, you know, cheers for all this.” I waved my hand vaguely in the air to indicate what I meant.

  “Anytime, Kian.” Ollie stood up and moved his chair out of the way. “Call me when you’re discharged, and we’ll set up another appointment.”

  “Okay, will do.”

  “Look after yourself, Kian.”

  “Yeah, thanks, mate. See ya.”

  Ollie headed for the door but paused as he reached the handle, and turned back to face me. “I think you have a visitor.”

  I sat up and could see a figure through the window in the door. The dark hair and rounded stomach told me it was Megan.

  She opened the door and took a tentative step forward. “I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

  Ollie smiled and shook his head. “No. I was just leaving. I’ll talk to you soon, Kian.”

  Without another word, Ollie left the room and Megan approached the bed, her brow raised and her head titled to one side. “Was that your doctor?”

  “Nah. That was Ollie, my therapist.”

  “Oh.” She pulled up the chair he’d not long put back. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Davi told Ollie what happened with Matthews, so he came to check in on me.”

  “That’s good of him.”

  “Yeah, it is. I’m glad to get moving on stuff. Talking to him helped me figure some stuff out.”

  Megan smiled and pulled off her jacket, hanging it over the back of the chair. “Well, if there’s anything else you want to talk about, you know I’m here.”

  I sat up and adjusted my pillow so I was looking directly at her. “There is, but first I want to know you’re okay. Marie said seeing me in here hit you hard.”

  Colour spread across Megan’s cheeks. “Yeah. I might have freaked out a little.”

  “I’m sorry. I never intended to lose to Matthews, and I definitely didn’t want you seeing me like this.”

  “It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re okay. I was really worried.”

  My heart race increased. God damn it. She was being so sweet and supportive. How could I tell her I didn’t want a relationship? But saying nothing would do neither of us any good.

  A tight sensation settled in my chest, and I sucked in a deep breath.

  “Are you feeling okay? If you need to rest, I can go.”

  “No, it’s all right. Just give me a minute.”

  I lay back down, closed my eyes, and brought my hand up to my head, raking my fingers through my hair.r />
  “I know what you’re going to say,” Megan said softly, her voice cracking as she spoke. “And it’s okay. I sort of expected it … I mean, you’ve always been honest about your feelings, and I just dumped my confession on you while you were unconscious.”

  I opened my eyes to see tears falling down her cheek.

  “Please don’t cry.”

  “Bloody baby hormones.” She wiped her eyes on her sleeves and blinked a few times.

  “I know this is going to sound like a cop out, but it’s not you, it’s me.”

  Megan laughed. “Yeah, that is a total cop out!”

  “I’m being serious, though. You’re great. You’re funny, and caring, and I love hanging out with you. And you’re hot. You get me like no woman ever has, and if I did want a relationship, it would be with you.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “Me. I’m the problem. I’m not who you think I am.”

  “Kian, I know exactly who you are. I know that a lot of the time you let your anger get the better of you, that you act first and think later, you like to be in control, and get your own way. I know all this, and I don’t care, because you’re also passionate, and stand up for what you believe in. You’re determined and always striving to do your best. You’re loyal and considerate. You know you’ve got faults, but you’re getting help with your problems.”

  “You might not care, but I do. You’re the only person who’s never looked at me like I’m shit. I don’t want you to end up hating me.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  I swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump in my throat, and stood up. Taking a tentative step forward, I reached out for Kian’s hand, and was surprised when he didn’t pull away.

  “I could never hate you,” I said, lacing my fingers through his. “But I think I get it. You’ve got all this stuff going on in your head. The last thing you need is to get into a relationship. But I meant what I said; I’m here if you need to talk or anything.”

  Kian brushed the pad of his thumb over the back of my hand. Warmth spread through the area where our skin touched, causing my heart to ache. “You’re amazing, you know that, right?”

  The lump in my throat was back, but I wasn’t going to give in to the tears that wanted to fall.

  I forced a smile. “I try.”

  I pulled my hand away and sat back down, trying to direct the conversation back to something less painful.

  “So, how are you feeling?”

  “All things considered, pretty good. I mean, my body hurts like hell, and I’d love for my head to stop pounding, but after speaking to Ollie I feel like I’m moving in the right direction.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. We only made a little progress, but it’s something. It’s more than I’ve felt in months. He suggested I look at the reasons why Matthews chose to cheat in our fight.”

  I couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. Kian had only had one session with his therapist, but already I saw the change in his demeanour.

  “And have you come to any conclusions?”

  “Maybe. I wondered if perhaps I make situations worse for myself by going off half-cocked. You said it yourself; I act first and think later.”

  I laughed. “Well, yeah. No one is going to deny you’ve got a hot head. But I also said you were passionate and stand up for what you believe in. Look at the Johnson interview. The guy was deliberately provoking you. He wanted you to blow up on TV.”

  “Exactly. It’s almost like he set me up! But that’s not the point Ollie was trying to make. He said something about avoiding bad situations by choosing how to behave. So, even if Johnson was being a dick, I should have taken the high road, I guess.”

  “But that’s easier said than done when someone’s pushing your buttons. It’s like the other week at uni. We had a job fair. All these people were looking over my portfolio and saying how great it was, but then saying they couldn’t give me a job because I’d be leaving soon to have the baby. I wanted to punch them in the face. Only I didn’t, because that’d give me a bad reputation and then no one would hire me.”

  Kian laughed and sat up in bed, turning his body to face me. “See, there’s the difference. I would have punched them, and ended up getting arrested or something. I need to train myself not to attack as a first instinct.”

  “And that’s what Ollie is for. He can help you with that, but it’ll take time.”

  “I know. It’s just frustrating.” Kian raked his hands through his hair. “Why can’t I just be normal?”

  “Because normal is overrated? Seriously, everyone has issues. You just need to find a way to live with them.”

  Kian sighed. I could tell the conversation was making him tense, and I wanted to lighten the mood. I had the perfect idea.

  “I got a letter from the hospital today with an appointment for the next ultrasound. You still want to come with me?”

  Kian’s eyes lit up. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. When is it?”

  “At the end of next week, and we’ll hopefully get to find out if we’re having a boy or a girl … I mean, if you want to know.”

  “What do you think?”

  “Isn’t it a tiny bit like peeking at your Christmas present early?”

  “I guess, but wouldn’t it help, you know? Then we’d know what clothes to buy and stuff, instead of sticking to neutral colours.”

  “Yeah, there is that. And it’d make choosing a name easier; we’d only have one list to work from.”

  The thought of seeing our baby again, and finding out if it was a boy or a girl, made me a little lightheaded. My stomach fluttered and my mouth felt dry.

  “Let’s do it.” The words came out more breathless than I intended, and I paused for a moment to compose myself. “Let’s find out what we’re having.”

  Kian’s face broke into a grin, and I smiled too. Telling him about the ultrasound had done exactly what I’d intended by taking his mind off everything else. Before I could stop myself, I got out of the chair, and climbed up onto his bed. My body longed for his touch.

  As if sensing my thoughts, Kian reached out and stroked my stomach. “Hey, little nipper,” he said softly. “Mum and Dad will see you soon.”

  I placed my hand over his and stared down at my stomach, thinking about the life forming inside me. The life we’d created together.

  Despite what Kian had said about relationships earlier, a small bubble of hope formed inside me. Seeing the progress he’d made with his therapist made me wonder if all he needed was a little more time.

  “I should probably go and let you get some rest,” I said climbing down from the bed.

  “All right. The doc reckons I should be discharged tomorrow. I’ll call you when I’m home.”

  I scooped up my bag and jacket. “Sounds good. Take care, okay?”

  I turned back to face him, leaned over the bed, and wrapped my arm around his shoulder and neck, pulling him into a one armed hug.

  “You too, Meg.” Kian’s lips brushed my forehead, and butterflies erupted in my stomach.

  I untangled myself from his embrace - before I said something stupid - and headed for the door. With one last look at Kian, who’d closed his eyes and was lying down in bed again, I left the room.

  I walked along the corridor, pausing when I heard a female voice, assuming it was a nurse or something.

  Standing at the end of the hallway was a tall redhead, chatting on her phone, her long hair dyed the colour of a pillar box.

  Fuck.

  I recognized her instantly. I’d only ever seen one picture of her, but I’d remember that face anywhere. Ruby, the receptionist from Davi’s gym, and the girl Kian slept with a few weeks ago.

  She abruptly ended the call when she saw me, her eyes narrowing and focusing on my baby bump. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Megan.” When my name failed to gain a response, I added. “The mother of Kian’s baby.”

  Her glossy lips formed a thin line and she shoo
k her head. “Kian isn’t having a baby. He would have told me.”

  She was tall, about Kian’s height, and dressed in expensive clothes. Her heels would have made Stacey envious. Her make-up was heavier than I’d wear during the day, her dark eyebrows drawn together as she regarded me. Her figure was slim and toned, the type of body I’d have loved to have before I got pregnant. Compared to Ruby, with her perky boobs and an apple shaped butt, I felt like a beached whale.

  I wanted to disappear, to fade into the walls, but she was still staring at me, her pencilled brow arched.

  “I’d know. I’m with him all the time,” she said, a sneer forming on her lips.

  I didn’t like the way she was looking at me, like I was something she’d scraped off her shoe, and I didn’t miss the implication of her statement that she was with Kian all the time. Her arrogance bolstered my confidence. No one spoke to me like that.

  “Yeah? Well, maybe he just didn’t think you were important enough to tell.”

  Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to respond, but I didn’t give her a chance, instead pushing past and leaving the ICU.

  I let the door swing shut behind me without a backwards glance, screwing my eyes closed against the tears fighting to escape. I lost the battle by the time I entered the lift.

  Fucking hormones.

  Alone in the dim light, I couldn’t fight the emotions overwhelming me any longer, and I did nothing to stop the tears tricking down my cheeks.

  Everything that’d happened in the last twenty-four hours – starting with Kian losing the fight and ending with coming face-to-face with Ruby – pushed down on me. My limbs felt heavy. I was meant to be heading to work for an afternoon shift, but I wanted nothing more than to change into my comfy pyjamas and curl up in bed with a movie and a bar of chocolate.

  I understood Kian’s reasoning for not wanting a relationship, I really did, but accepting it still hurt. He’d pretty much said he felt the same as I did, and would be with me, but his issues were holding him back. I wasn’t going to push it, because that wasn’t what he needed, and I was mostly okay with waiting and helping him through his problems, but seeing Ruby, and her insinuating there was something between them made me doubt everything I thought and felt.