Pinned (completed)

7

3 weeks later.

Kingston was progressing at a rate that even surprised the doctors. She had lost so much muscle she couldn't walk or hold herself up. The feeding tube was helping but the illness had progressed.

We shared the news on social media and the positive words and experiences people of all kinds had with Kingston helped. It brought a smile to her face as she retold all the experiences.

As much as we tried to avoid the death talk we had to sit down. We had everything worked out. I left during their meeting. I couldn't stand to hear how calm Kingston was. How at peace she was with the idea of dying. Even though it was inevitable it seemed as if she had given up.

I was scared for our future. The international break was great and I had another month off before I had to return to the pitch.

Even though I was home all day we had to get hospice to come. I couldn't take care of her. She couldn't even grasp a water cup or swallow anything solid. Her diet was made up of whatever her feeding tube gave her, ice cream, smoothies and bone broth. They were the only things that didn't hurt her stomach.

She is wheeled out from the room in which she was meeting with the guy to sign off on her coffin and spot in the graveyard. I couldn't hear her talk about it. I thanked the man before wheeling her out of the store and to the parking lot.

I load her into the car and buckle her before closing her wheel chair and storing it in the trunk. We drive to the house in silence.

Kingston was quite all the time. Her doctors told me it was to painful for her to speak for longer then necessary. Which I knew was going to happen but I wasn't ready for it.

All I wanted was my adorable, cocky wrestler back. The one that used to joke around about her beating Messi one on one in a pk shout out. The one that swore she was the next Sue Bird even though her high school teammate told me she couldn't pull up from anywhere outside of the lane.

I can't imagine how painful this is for her.

I carry her upstairs and set her on the hospice bed. I adjusted it so she could sit up and see the tv. I locked the door and stared preparing her food. I pull her pump next to her and fill the bag up with water and hang it before opening two boxes full of her food and pouring it into the other bag. I attach the cable and set the machine for it to distribute the food before microwaving a hot pocket and joining her in the living room.

I throw on Family feud as sports only upset her nowadays. And rightfully so, she went from a world class athlete to someone who can't wipe their own ass in less then 2 years time.

I didn't realize I was crying until her boney,shaky hand tried to wipe my tears. I can only smile at her at her act. I lean up and kiss her. "I love you." I say not expecting to hear it back.

She never says it back anymore. The doctors told me to expect it but it just hurts.

"I lo-love you too b-ba-babe." She chokes her way through it.

I only smile at her and excuse myself to the bathroom. Even if it's happy tears I don't want to cry infront of her. It only stresses her more and her body is fighting enough already. I wipe my tears and fix my make up before heading out.

I sit next to her and hold her hand as we watch reruns of Steve Harvey until night time.

At 9 I start her nightly routine I start her bath and get in with her. We stay in there until the tremors slow. Once they slow I take her out. Dress her, brush her teeth, give her sleep meds and pain pills before tucking her in. I make myself a plate of lasagne that Julie gifted us last week. I eat quickly before heading to bed.

I'm so emotionally exhausted I lay down and doze off. I'm awoken in the middle of the night as Kingston chokes on air. I do as the doctors told me. I call 911 then get her sitting up right. By the time the ambulance gets to us she has passed. They try to resuscitate her but nothing works. She died. Her heart flat lined and no brain activity was monitored.

They remove her body as I sit in the same spot on the middle of the staring at her body imprint in the mattresses.

All I do is I send a group text to the National team and the red stars.

Alyssa Naher: Kingston Passed in her sleep.

She sent it and locked her phone. She just needed time to be alone. She packed a bag, grabbed her keys and left. She knew the team would come to her house so she left.

She drove for hours until the reality set in. Her tears were so thick she couldn't see the road ahead. She drove to the nearest inn and booked a room.

Walking in she dropped on mattresses and cried. She was screaming at everything. She was so tired from fighting. For the first time in her life Alyssa was contemplating her life. She just wanted to be with Kingston again.

Why had Kingston passed. She couldn't have. This was all a mistake. This was a just a nightmare, she would wake in the morning to Kingston shirtless with her shoulder brace on making breakfast for her. They would watch the nfl games that were on that day and would hold eachother. Laughing and joking about their athletic ability.
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This might be the end of the book if not there is one more chapter.