Lemon & Honey

N I N E

"All it takes is a beautiful fake smile to hide and injured soul and they will never notice how broken you really are" 

- Robin Williams 

*(*9*)*

K A I N E

Kaine Dire has once again stunned the football community with his winning streak as he once again leads his team to a four game streak!"

"It's like he's untouchable!"

"You can say that again, now we're going to the press conference where the prized star will be interviewed"

Kaine sat, his face painted with an award-worthy smile as he tried to process the millions of questions being thrown his way. He glanced to his side where two of his other teammates were being questioned - though it felt like most of the questions were being addressed to him.

"Kaine! How does it feel to be in this position?", One persistent reporter questioned as she clutched her notes close to her chest. The crowed stirred, their raised voices hushing to a mere murmur as they awaited his response.

Kaine chuckled breezily. "Honestly I feel blessed, as anyone would be if they were in my position. I'm just grateful that I was given the chance to show off my abilities." He answered genuinely, causing an uproar as the crowd began to fire more questions his way.

I rolled my eyes, pressing the off button on my flat-screen TV - the image of his smiling face disappearing as I was left to pace the stretch of his living room with my phone glued to my ear.

"Are you packed and ready for this weekend?" Sandra questioned (for the millionth time) through the phone to me.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Yes mother, Kyle is going to pick us up from the airport and we should get to the lake house just after dad." I responded.

I went over my mental checklist - reminding myself to turn off the microwave in the kitchen before I left. I heard my mother's silent sigh of relief over the phone before she went off, rambling about how prepared she was for the upcoming wedding. I could care less, silently tuning out the dull drone of my mother as I glanced at the clock on my wall.

It read 12:30.

"Mom, I really need to-"

"How are you coping?" Sandra finished, cutting me off.

I fell silent at this. My throat felt dry as I blinked numbly. It was too soon - too raw. I unconsciously ran a hand over my freshly washed hair, coughing as I tried to shake off the images that flooded involuntarily into my mind.

"I have to go." I stated harshly, not giving her a moment to respond I hung up on her - throwing my phone angrily at the couch in frustration.

SHIT!

Just when I thought I was over it; something came - dragging me, screaming, crying, clawing back into the depths of depression that waited for me with open arms. I wouldn't submit. Not when she-

"Daddy!"

I felt myself relax. Turning face my daughter, my pride and joy, as she launched herself down the stairs towards me with a cute pout adorning her angelic features. At only 12, Kiara was a spitting image of me - her attitude and appearance closely resembling mine as the only part of her that was close to her mother were her eyes. Those grey eyes.

"Have you seen my phone?" She questioned, placing her hands on her hips as she stomped her foot in frustration.

I chuckled, "I don't know. Maybe where you left it last time...."

Her brows raised in realisation as she jetted back towards the stairs, tripping in her excitement as I stifled a laugh that threatened to raise itself from me. Kaira. The only one true reason I was where I was today. She kept me sound - grounded - as everything around me fell apart.

She came skipping back down the steps, dragging her suitcase behind her in one hand with her phone in the other as she went, making her way out of the front door and towards my car.

I smiled faintly at my child's disappearing figure before making my way into the kitchen. The microwave was off. Silence enveloped the house as I made my last round of security checks. Now don't get me wrong we didn't live in a dangerous neighbourhood by any means but being a famous athlete came with the additional perk of having no privacy and the occasional psychopath. You could never be too careful - especially since I had a child in the house too.

"Daddy, are we setting off or not?" Kaira quipped from the passenger seat of my car.

I rolled my eyes, making a move to leave when I accidentally stumbled - knocking a picture off the stand by the door; sending it rocketing of the marble floor. I cursed under my breath, quickly snatching the cursed picture off the floor with the intention of placing it its proper place until I realised caught sight of the photo in question.

It was the birth of Kiara. I was beaming into the lens of the camera, my bruised hands (bruised from the pressure my wife had been gripping them with) clutching the flushed bundle of joy that was my daughter. I felt it again, wrapping it's cold, prying fingers around my throat with the intention of strangling me with the feeling of guilt - remorse.

I coughed loudly; blinking away the intrusive tears that threatened to fall with determination. I gently placed the photo back in its place - staring, transfixed at the picture that held so many memories. So many unspoken words.

"Daddyy!" Kiara screamed, snapping me out of my trance.

Bringing me back.

* * *

FOLLOW | VOTE | COMMENT