The Play

He clears his throat and looks at the floor. “I’ve been going through some stuff, to put it mildly. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for Lachlan, a long time ago, when he needed it. I’ll be there for him now though, you can bet on that. The thing is,” he glances at me, “he’s reverting. Slowly but surely. I don’t know why, I can only guess. It’s never not going to be an issue though. He’s never going to shed his past because his past made him who he is. People with addictions…it’s naïve to think they’ll one day be cured. That’s not how it works. It’s an ongoing illness, you see? An illness for which there is no real cure, just a way to manage it. And he can’t manage it alone. He needs people around him who are supportive. You understand?”

His tone makes me a bit defensive. “I understand. I am there for him.”

“I know. You care a lot about him.”

I stand up straighter. “I love him,” I say, my voice soft but my words strong.

“That’s even better,” he says. “But sometimes love is not enough. You have to know that he’s going to hurt you again and again and again and you’re going to have to learn to love him even when you hate him. That’s the reality. That’s the facts. You need to know that if you truly love Lachlan and want to be there for him, want to see him out of this hell, you’re going to be put through the ringer and spat out. And it will keep on happening. It’s the ugly truth and not many people are built for that kind of responsibility.”

He’s watching me closely for my response but I’m still feeling so defensive that I barely let the words in. He doesn’t know the kind of person that I am, what I’ve gone through in my own life.

Also, I refuse to believe that love isn’t enough. How can it not be enough when it feels like it can change the whole entire world, if not just every fiber of my being? It has to be more than enough.

“I’m built for more than you might think,” I finally say.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he says. “He’s a good guy, you know. Really good. Heart of an angel, a warrior, whatever you want to call it. It’s just such a bloody shame this whole thing. So strong on the outside, a scared, abandoned little boy on the inside.”

“He’s not a hopeless case,” I tell him, knowing my words mean little from someone like me, someone new to his life.

“No, I suppose not,” he says with a heavy sigh. “But it sure does feel like it sometimes.” He brings out his phone and checks the time. “Do you want me to stay with you until he gets back? He, uh, might not be sober when he returns from his walk.”

I blink at him. “Might not be sober?”

“He’s most likely at the pub down the street right now.”

I feel like the rug has been pulled out from under me. “He’s drinking? Well why the hell didn’t you let me go after him? I could have prevented that!”

He shakes his head slowly. “No, you couldn’t have. You can’t. What you think you can convince him not to drink when you tell him he shouldn’t? When you set rules? That’s not how it works.”

“He listens to me!”

“What did I just say about love not being enough? He’s not going to listen to you, Kayla. This is all up to him and when he’s in a certain frame of mind, it’s like you don’t even exist.”

My throat feels like it’s closing up, it’s impossible to swallow. “Please. Please can we go get him from the pub? You don’t know he won’t listen. To me or you. I can’t just let him drink himself silly. He might hurt himself. He might get into a fight, hurt someone else. What if he stays out all night? Fuck, you just said that he’s feeling horrible for what he did at practice…I can’t…”

I can’t just stay here and imagine it.

I turn around, grabbing my purse from the shelf and my keys. “I’m going to find him. What pub is it?”

“Kayla,” he warns, stepping in front of the door.

Even though Brigs is a tall, strong man, he moves easily when I push him to the side. “Don’t tell me then, I’ll check every single pub around.” I give him a level stare. “I love your brother, okay? I’m not going to let him do this to himself.”

He looks up, contemplating. “Fine,” he says. “I’m coming with you.”

Brigs and I head out into the streets, the sun behind the houses, setting the sky a hazy, golden color. People are out walking their dogs, laughing, and it’s hard to believe that we’re out looking for Lachlan, a man enraptured with darkness, who can’t see the sun at all. My heart feels sick, beating erratically while I keep imagining all the worst case scenarios. I know it hasn’t been long at all though since he left and maybe, just maybe he’s in the frame of mind to listen.

If we can even find him.

Because the first pub Brigs brings me into, he’s not there.

Nor is he at the second, or third.

He’s not answering any of our texts or phone calls.

And now I can see that Brigs is really getting worried, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepening. Edinburgh is a big city, full of many pubs and people looking for trouble. Even so, we search through various neighborhoods for hours before we decide to turn around, heading back from the Old Town, up Dundas Street. The sun is long gone and the darkness is everywhere.

The whole time I can barely feel anything except a sinking feeling in my chest, my lips dry and chewed up from biting them so anxiously. I keep telling myself that Lachlan is his own man, he knows what he’s doing, he’s probably fine and I keep repeating it to myself over and over. Finally I’m just devoid of thought, I’m just coasting along on my panic.

“Maybe he’s back at the flat,” I say to Brigs as we turn onto our street.

He doesn’t say anything to that.

But when we get upstairs to the front door, it’s already unlocked.

“Hello?” I ask, pushing it open slightly. I expect the dogs to come ru

“Lachlan?” he says and we hear movement from the kitchen.

The both of us go in through the dining room and peer around the corner. Lachlan is sitting at the kitchen table, head down, eyes closed, his fist around a bottle of Scotch. At his feet, under the table, are Lionel and Emily, staring up at us with big eyes. Lionel gives one soft thump of his tail.

“Hey,” Brigs says quietly, walking in beside him and pulling out a chair. He leans forward, trying to get into his face, to get his attention. “We were looking for you.”

Lachlan grunts something and his fist around the bottle tightens. He still doesn’t open his eyes.

Brigs looks to me, a questioning look on his face. I’m not sure he knows what to do, what’s next. I’m not sure either but as he’s shooting me these looks, Lachlan raises his chin, just an inch, and looks right at me.

His eyes are frightening. Bloodshot and so fucking hard and flinty, they might as well be made of iron.

I try and soften my features, to let him know I’m worried about him, to tell him everything is okay, even though it isn’t.

It doesn’t seem to work. He fixes his hard glare on Brigs for a moment and I swear he’s going to break the bottle in two. Then he looks back down, nostrils flaring, and closes his eyes.

Eventually Brigs gets up and comes over to me, leaning in close to my ear. Lachlan is staring at us again. I don’t recognize him as my boyfriend. It’s the beast from the other night, but far, far worse.

“Do you want me to stay?” Brigs whispers to me.

I’m not afraid of Lachlan. I refuse to be. I can handle him when it’s the two of us. I have a feeling that maybe it’s the presence of Brigs that’s making Lachlan tense up and go to the dark side.

“I’m fine,” I tell Brigs. I quickly add, “thank you.”

He nods and pats me on the shoulder before leaving the room.

“Take care of her Lachlan,” he says and the longest, heaviest moments pass until I hear that front door shut.