Chapter 24

I grieved like a pro – like it was my career, and I was a ladder-climbing corporate junkie. I literally Googled 'grieving customs around the world,' and began to work my way through a very strange list.

Food was easy; keeping to Hindu tradition I'd read about online, I would only eat one vegetarian meal a day. My appetite seemed to have vanished along with Heather, so it wasn't a struggle. I would have been happy with a bowl of cold rice every day, but Matt, once he realised I wouldn't change my mind and eat more, threw his energy into creating carb and protein loaded meals for us in the early afternoons.

He was cooking a creamy risotto one day when I walked past the kitchen with an armful of blankets. "What are you doing?"

I reached up with a thick coverlet in my hands, tucking the corners behind the large standing mirror in the corner of my room. "In Shiva, they cover every mirror in the house."

"Shiva?"

"Jewish mourning period."

"Oh." He reached for a sheet, without any further questioning. "I'll tack these up in the bathroom."

Weirdly, with the reflective surfaces covered, I felt my grief lighten; as if, without being able to stare into my pain-riddled eyes I could have a moment of rest. It worked for a day, then my endless thoughts began to spiral inwards again.

Getting dressed most days seemed like too much effort. My wardrobe glared at me with garish colours. I couldn't handle the vibrant pinks and reds – especially since I'd read that in the Philippines, wearing red during mourning was considered particularly disrespectful. I jumped online and ordered tracksuits and tees in black and indigo, a traditional colour of grief in Brazil.

Matt pretty much moved in for the first few weeks; he and Taylor had both taken some time off, so the weekend Jump Start crew were running the show in the meantime. He accepted all my grief, however it came. The sad part was, I was so far down the rabbit hole, I could barely acknowledge him or everything he was doing for me.

It wasn't a selfish act. Every part of my bereaved mindset was conspiring to convince me of one thing; I am not worthy. Andie's words had burrowed inside my subconsciousness and I couldn't see a way free.

It all came to a head one night about a month after the funeral. I'd actually had a pretty good day; the sun had been out, I'd managed to lose myself inside a good book for a few hours, and the doctor had cleared me to stop wearing my shoulder sling. Matt had been back at work for two weeks, but he made his way to my house as usual after filming and began to craft our dinner.

"Looks like a storm is rolling in," he said, staring out the window and across the ocean, where sooty cumulous clouds were billowing towards us.

"I love a good storm. I think they're sexy." The words fell from my mouth before I could take them back.

Matt raised a sculpted eyebrow as he stirred a saucepan, his eyes reflecting the silver of the sky. "Really? How so?"

"They're primal, and once they get going, you can't control anything, you just hold on and ride them through." A rare grin tugged at my features. "Besides, all those parallels between rain and fertility, plus there's no better feeling in the world than hiding under the covers with someone while thunder rolls outside."

"You've convinced me." Matt lifted a wooden spoon in my direction. "Try this."

I blew gently on the sauce, and tasted the tomato-based concoction. "Mmm... Amazing."

"It should go well with the spinach and ricotta ravioli, and I bought some sea-salted dark chocolate for dessert."

A vision of the night appeared in front of me; Matt and I with full bellies on the couch, chatting happily while the storm blew around us, a calm eye protected from the world. I smiled at the silky-haired man in my kitchen and felt... happy?

Matt saw my face lighten; he grinned and reached for my hand. I let him, my skin tingling at our first real contact since the morning in the Sydney loft so long ago.

And that was all it took. With the one memory of that apartment, everything came rushing back; Heather lying in the bathtub, gently nudging me into rethinking my Lightfoot conquest. Heather and me on the couch the night after, giggling and sharing a blanket. Heather on the curb outside the WF building, her hair like a flame against the grey city, hailing a cab to take us onwards to her death.

Matt watched my face crumple. "Oh, Evianna. I'm sorry."

My breath grew short, raking in and out of my chest in short bursts. My vision narrowed as the room closed in. "I... I-I can't. I have to get out of here."

"Evianna!"

Matt called to me as I fled my house, sobbing as I hurtled down the stairs, heedless and without direction.

The storm had reached the land, the wind tugging at my snarled hair and loose clothing. Wanting the punishment, I ran into the rain, which had begun to pelt against my face. My bare feet hit soft, cold sand, and I staggered onto the deserted beach, falling to my hands.

Pushing up, I stumbled on, slashing through the wet grains until I reached the shallows. With my feet grounded in earth and water, while wind and fire flashed around me, I let everything out.

"Why?" I screamed to the sky. "Why? Why? Why?" I shrieked it over and over, demanding an answer from a silent and indifferent universe.

My hands pulled at the neck of my thin cotton tee, renting the fabric open as I sank to my knees in the choppy waves. "It isn't fair! You should be here! You were my light, and now there's only darkness."

Nothing. I panted in agony, the elements pulsing around me.

"I forgot." I whispered it in shame. "For a moment tonight, I forgot that you were dead. And then when I remembered, it hurt even worse. I don't want to forget. You don't deserve to be forgotten."

Weeping, I lowered my head forward. "How do I keep going when every time I'm happy, it just reminds me that you're gone and if it wasn't for me, you'd be alive? Answer me!"

Only the wind replied, howling back in a wretched mimicry of my grief.

"Heather... I... I miss you." All the distractions my mourning practices had given me fell away; it was only me, my pain and the storm. I stared into the face of my personal misery and allowed it to consume me as I cried until I dry heaved.

Time ceased to hold meaning. I couldn't have said if I knelt there keening for five minutes or five hours. I poured out everything into the elements, feeling the vibration of my grief shifting the very ground beneath me, as if the earth itself was moved by my loss. I clawed my hands into the sand and tore my nails through my hair

Eventually, I looked up; the storm had passed over, and the stars shone down instead of angry clouds. Surprised, I realised my tears had passed too.

Uncertainly, I took a deep breath in, filling my lungs from the bottom of my diaphragm until my chest expanded. When I blew all the air out, a strange emotion surged through me. It wasn't peace, but it was a tiny step in that direction, the first move towards healing rather than the cycle of mourning I'd been trapped in.

Shaky, I pushed to my feet, feeling the cold in my limbs inching towards my torso. My hair was a matted mess, my clothes torn and sandy, my face coated in tears and snot.

But as I made my way back up the beach, Matt stood there, staring at me as I was precious and miraculous rather than a disaster. When I reached his side, he wrapped a fluffy towel around my shoulders, curled his arm around my waist, and supported me back home.

***

After a hot, scented bath, I collapsed into bed and slept for sixteen hours straight. When I woke up around lunch time the next day, it was to the sound of banging.

Feeling stiff and delicate, I eased out of bed and followed the noise. Matt stood in my lounge room, wielding a hammer. "Hey! You're up!" he said, running a hand through his hair, his bicep swelling inside the sleeve of his fitted tee. "How are you feeling?"

I flinched as he bashed another three solid blows into the wall next to my stairway. "I'm okay. What's that for?"

"A picture. First, look at this for me."

He handed me a sheet of paper. I scanned the list of places and phone numbers. "What is all this?"

"Evianna, if I've learned nothing else from the last few months, it's that you can't change anybody. All you can do is show them the way and wait until they're ready."

He reached for my hand, and this time, I didn't pull away. I squeezed his fingers back as he said, "You're going through something right now, and I can't even begin to understand your pain. But I do want to help you manage it when you're ready."

He pointed to the page in my other hand. "So, I've bought you an unlimited pass for the indoor pool around the corner; they open at 5am every day. Joe sent me an email about the hot yoga place down the road and you've got a membership card waiting behind the desk for you. Also, you can expect a fruit and veg delivery from the organic markets to arrive here twice a week. At the moment, they'll just put together a mixed box for you, but jump on their website if you want something specific.

"Finally, I've done a lot of calling around and found an amazing psychologist in the city. She's waiting for you to call and make an appointment, in your own time." He rubbed the top of my hand as my fingers curled around the paper.

"Matt... I don't think I can..." I wasn't sure if I was referring to taking ownership over my life, or making phone calls or just the thought of a single forward step.

"I know you can, Evianna, but this is a journey you have to take on your own."

"You're leaving?" I said, my voice immediately high and tight. I'd been taking Matt's constant support for granted; the thought of being without him was one more loss I wasn't sure I could handle.

He tugged me gently forward and enveloped me inside his arms. "Never. I'm never going anywhere, unless you tell me too, and even then, I'll just sit outside your door until I turn to stone, and you can tell people I'm a gargoyle."

A tiny burst of laughter erupted from my compressed throat.

"But you have to find your way through this. You're the most resilient person I know. You can do it; you just have to decide you want to."

I breathed in the scent of his skin, allowing his nearness to surround and comfort my exposed and raw nerves. We stood that way for a very long time, locked together, him and me against the world.

Matt pulled back. "I'm away for the next two days; Robbo is sending us to Adelaide for a tourism plug. You can call me anytime. I love you, Evianna."

I couldn't say it back. I was too overwhelmed by the mere thought of him being gone, of trying to move forward.

"I'll leave you with this." He bent and lifted a large canvas, hanging it on the nail. I gasped at the sight of the print, clasping both hands over my stretched mouth, breathing into the fresh wave of grief.

It was a collage of photos, all of them Heather and me. There we were, at the Kalgoorlie mine, the gaping Super Pit behind us, our faces flushed and excited. Another pic showed us at the Perth aquarium, a selfie with a school of brightly coloured fish behind us. We were on the balcony of our Gold Coast high rise, goofing around in an airport lounge, and a pic I didn't recognise that must have been taken by one of the film crew; Heather fixing my hair as I prepared for a live cross, both of us laughing.

The centre of the collection was a still screen-shot from my final report, showing Heather and me from behind, holding hands and dashing naked into the surf. The moment came flooding back to me in all its vivid colours, and it felt close enough to touch, real enough that it might still be happening somewhere.

"You are her legacy," said Matt quietly. "I know you blame yourself, and in time, you won't, because it wasn't your fault. But from here on, you have to choose to take her lessons and live them, or throw them away in her name."

He kissed my cheek and left me staring at the canvas, my heart filled with scalding grief and soothing memory.

***

That night, I'd contemplated taking the print down, even going as far as lifting the weight of the frame from the hook. But it seemed worse to acknowledge that it existed by moving it, so I settled for studiously ignoring it, hiding in my room as if the memories couldn't follow me there.

Waking at dawn the next morning, the day stretched in front of me like a long, lonely ribbon. Without Matt's company to look forward to, I found myself at a loss. I cleaned the house from top to bottom, answered some emails, plucked my eyebrows, went through my makeup kit and threw out the old stuff, bought a rock salt lamp on eBay and looked at the clock to see it was still only 9:15am.

"Are you kidding me?" Exasperated, my eyes settled on Matt's list. Immediately, I felt a fatigue set in at the mere thought of leaving the house, and a total dread at the idea of attempting to move forward. Forget every day – I was struggling through every minute.

I glanced up at the photos on the wall, and Heather's hazel eyes seemed to lock onto mine. Every day starts with a single day, I felt the echo of her spirit say. Just start with today.

"Fine." My fist clenched the paper, even as my fingers trembled. "I'll do some stuff today. Just today."

The easiest thing to do was start at the top; swimming. Harrumphing, I headed for my closest to dig for my old swimsuit. The one I'd bought with Heather was buried in a bag of scattered belongings from the crash site, which I'd swiftly stashed at the back of a storage cupboard under my stairs, so I hunted until I found the one-piece I'd used back in high school.

I'd forgotten it was red. Even though the material was a few years old, it was still in good condition, but the vibrant strawberry red colour sent my heart skittering. I wasn't sure if it was a good sign or a warning, but before I could allow myself too much time to think, I pulled it on, threw a tracksuit over the top, and headed out the door.

Outside, the day seemed almost too bright. The air was clear and hopeful, warming up with the heat of the Australian sun, perfect weather for swimming. Being a weekday normally meant there were less people around the Coogee beach streets, but a few hard-core runners were pounding the pavement, along with a smiley old man and his unusually muscular legs.

"Excuse us!" said a cheerful voice behind me. I turned to see two young mums pushing jogging strollers with adorable infants inside.

I stepped to the grass, allowing them to pass, but one of the women suddenly gasped. "Oh my God! Evianna Moore! Jacy, it's Evi!"

"Wow! Oh goodness, Evi! Can we call you Evi? Is that okay? We're such huge fans!"

They'd halted their strollers in order to focus on me, pressing forwards in an enthusiastic way. Rather than allow my fight-or-flight response to kick in, I took a calming breath and said, "Hi, ladies. Yes, Evi is fine. It's nice to meet you."

"Evi, I just have to tell you," said Jacy, "your reports changed my life! My husband and I took your alcohol pledge, we've been on it ever since. We didn't even realise how much we were relying on drinks every night to get us through until we stopped. Thank you so much!"

Her friend agreed. "Yeah, I struggled so much after I had Will here, I felt like my weight would never go down, and I needed to go get a tummy tuck. But when you spoke about food and emotion with that Eli guy, I was like, 'Oh God, that's me.' Now, we're walking every day, and I'm choosing better foods. You're amazing! Thank you!"

"You're welcome," I said, shaking my head a little to deflect their effusive praise. "But honestly, I was just passing on what I'd learned from wiser people than me."

"Well, wherever you get your advice from, it's changed who we are for the better," said Jacy. "I know I'm taking what I've learned with me wherever I go from here."

We chatted for a few more minutes until the babies started to fuss, and the mummies rolled on. As I kept moving towards the pool, I thought about their words. The knowledge I'd acquired by being open to Heather and her special brand of wisdom was still out there in the world, working in people's lives.

She's still having an impact, even after she's gone. I contemplated the depth of that discovery. In a way, her spirit is eternal, as long as people are changed for the better because she was here.

***

It took me a good five minutes to ease into the pool; even the indoor water temperature seemed shockingly cold against my exposed skin. But once I was in and took that first brave push off from the wall, I felt myself absorb into the activity.

I swam 50 laps, slowly and persistently, determined to make it to 50, but at my own pace. Between the burning in my arms and legs, and the deliberate act of holding my breath for four strokes at a time, everything inside me slowed down. The shower afterwards was positively glorious, the scalding water sluicing off the first layer of my negative energies. Thank you, Heather, for showing me how much I need swimming in my life.

Back at home, I jumped online and checked out the food order Matt had started for me. Along with the fruit and veg, I added some whole grain products and a few cartons of oat milk to make smoothies, smiling at the memory of buying smoothies in WA after we'd attempted Tai Chi on the beach.

Matt had stuck a class schedule for the yoga studio to my fridge, and I found a 6pm class which looked good. Knowing how much the hot classes took out of me, I opened my freezer and pulled out a steak to thaw, planning an early protein-filled meal.

After my stir-fry, I grabbed a towel and a water bottle and walked down to the studio. A slender woman in her thirties manned the desk at the front, her long ashy ponytail snaking down to her lower back. "Hi, I'm Tash! Welcome to Fire Blossom – can I help you?"

Fire Blossom. Of course. "Yeah, I've got a membership card to collect?"

The class was every bit as intense, challenging and amazing as I'd remembered from Kaivalya – even if all the bottoms in the air were clad in $150 Lululemon yoga pants rather than nothing. In the postures, I found the peace I'd been craving, the break from my negative cyclic thoughts, while the heat allowed me to sweat out a month's worth of toxins and move fresh blood around my body.

Towards the end of the session as we lowered down into one-legged pigeon pose, Tash spoke in her soothing voice. "Pigeon is a hip-opening posture, and we store plenty of emotions inside our hips. As you stretch and open the hip joint, you might feel waves of emotion rolling through you. Anger, grief, panic, hysterical giggles, whatever you're feeling, take a deep inhale, and let it go. Melt into the floor and allow those feelings to float away."

With my face pressed to the floor, I'd already been weeping freely long before she started talking. I followed her instructions, pulling the oxygen into my lungs, then exhaling in a steady stream. Like blowing out the pain, I felt my negativity lift as I sank even closer to the earth.

After class, Tash spoke to me. "Well done today! You're a natural yogini!"

"I've been told that before," I replied, smiling shyly.

"See you tomorrow?"

"You will."

***

When Matt came home on the weekend, he picked up my sheet of paper, perusing my handwritten notes overlaid on his typed instructions. "'Order more strawberries... Try the 90 min class on Monday... Appointment with Dr Ruth Wednesday...'"

I threaded my arms around his waist, hugging him from behind. "I've been busy."

"Yes, you have, my love." He tapped on the underlined words I'd written next to each task. "What do these mean?"

"'Body' is swimming. 'Mind' is the psychologist. 'Soul' is for yoga. Food goes with 'Health.'"

"You've got nothing next to 'Heart.'"

I squeezed him tighter, pressing my cheek between his warm shoulder blades. "I'm hoping that's where you come in, when I'm ready."

His hands found mine and he lifted them to close over his heart space. "You already hold my heart, Evianna. I'm here whenever you're ready to let me hold yours."

As we draw closer to the end of the book, I actually feel a sadness settling in - I've connected with so many of you over this tale, listened to your stories, shared your triumphs and heartaches.  I will miss you all - the ones who encourage, and the ones who challenge.  So, I'd love to invite all of you to jump onto Facebook and like my author page - just type 'katejsquires' into the search bar and you'll find me.  It would be awesome to stay connected even when Curves is over, and you'll receive updates on my publishing journey as it progresses.

And for anyone on insta - I'm also a yoga teacher who promotes body positivity, and you can find me at katesyogini if you feel like adding me to your feed :)

Please remember to click the star and vote if you've enjoyed this chapter - I enjoyed writing it!  Sometimes, the right words just rush forth, and I like the hope and strength we're seeing from Evi as she begins to heal.

Here's a question for your comments - what legacy would you like to leave upon this world?  Think big!