Spitting Image • TFC 3.0 • l.t. au

Chapter Forty Eight

48

LOUIS' POV

A week after we lost Margo, we went back to our usual routine; kids went to school and Meg and I went to work. Although we move like the walking dead, we did carry on with our lives as best as we can.  Meg was the worst. I've never seen her so lost and the depression is slowly consuming her every being.

She'd lock herself in the bathroom in the middle of night the first week and I'd hear her cry. Sometimes, even in bed, I'd hear her sob. She'd wake up from nightmares almost every night but by morning, she'd carry on like nothing happened that night. She's very good at masking it when she's around people because normally, no one brings it up. They know every time they bring it up, it's like sending a bullet through her chest.

It's been a month now since we lost a daughter and gained an angel. However, nothing feels quite right yet. In fact, it feels worse actually.

In my case, however, is not as easy. Someone at work would always bring it up. Luckily, on that first day my arsehole of a boss was on leave so that saved me from wanting to bash his head against the wall.

But the first day he came back to work after his leave, which is today, he was being an arsehole as usual. His cheery persona pissed me off.

"Where have you been, mate? We needed you here, where were you?" He laughed in my face and I so badly wanted to bash his head against the wall. Ironically, I should ask him that question not the other way around.

Even though I didn't want to tell him or even just bring it up, I had to. With a heavy heart, I had to tell him about Margo all over again. "Oh, mate, that sucks," was what he told me.

Yeah it really sucks, Jerry. It's like tearing out a part of your body and have someone drive a truck over it.

"But what's important is you're here now. Spring League is right around the corner, my friend..."

The moment he brought up Spring League, I wanted to choke him. He is an arsehole. A heartless, stupid arsehole. "Am I right, mate?" He slaps a hand on my shoulder and shook me.

Why did I expect any empathy from this ding dong? So stupid of me.

"Sure." I muttered and he rejoiced.

He goes back to his office, probably to sulk, while I drag myself to the stadium. I haven't met my team in weeks and I'm hoping they've improved as a whole at least by a little bit. Catherine is in the stadium when I got there. She was also on leave when I returned and now she's back on the same day as Jerry. She's being surrounded by three of the lads. Immediately, they scattered with one sound of the whistle.

Catherine looks at me like she's examining my features. "I'm sorry about your daughter..." She tells me, squeezing my arm.

"Thanks, Catherine, but I don't want to go there..." I tell her, "Anyway," I say, attempting to get out of the subject. I turned to the group of young men scattered like ants in front of me.

"Ten laps around the field and proceed to your drills once you're done." I tell them and blew on the whistle, signalling them to get started.

I sat on the bench and took my clipboard board out. I frowned when I saw that Butler's name has been left blank for attendance. I turned to Catherine and handed her the board. "Where's Butler?" I ask her.

Catherine looked up at me and shrugged. "He hasn't been showing up since the start of term. Haven't you noticed?Anyway, I've seen him on campus but he never shows up for practice." She tells me.

"Is he mad? There's a game in two weeks and if they lose that game, they're not getting in the championships!" I snapped, catching Catherine by surprise. "I'll talk to him."