Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Inspired by real life events but taking a lot of liberties with it.

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Lukasz POV

One more step — just one step at a time.

I got through this morning; I got through the flight, even through the bus ride from the airport to here. Now I just have to get through this — I have to see her leave, let her go, without even saying goodbye.

I lean against the wall, my bag at my feet, as I unapologetically stare at them. Mats carries her bag to the trunk of the car that’s taking her to the train station. When they hug, I look down and try to ignore the pain that sets in my chest.

I was able to contain this before for the four years I’ve seen them together. This hug — this hug is nothing compared to some of the gestures I’ve endured, even after purposely and diligently staying away from them. I used to be able to tolerate eating dinner with them staring at each other lovingly in front of me. Now this hug, this hug makes me want to dry heave.

I’ve lost it. I’ve lost this battle. I thought I could be close to her, but it hurts too much.

As I Iook up, I catch her eyes, staring right at me, and my body reacts as if a shot of adrenaline had just been pumped into my chest. I stand taller instinctively, no longer slumping against the wall. I feel stronger, and my lips, which I seem to be unable to control anymore, stretch into a smile for her... just for her.

When she looks at me this way though, I can’t do it. It will be excruciating but I can’t stay away from her. Not anymore. Not ever again.

Her fingers wiggle discreetly, just barely above her jeans’ front pocket, in a little wave made just for me. I nod in return, and with that seemingly meaningless gesture we say goodbye along with everything else we don’t allow ourselves to say.

As the car speeds off with her inside, the weight of yesterday’s game, last night, this morning, and everything else sets heavily on my shoulders. The extra bit of energy, strength and motivation, I had all but a minute ago also disappears with the brake-lights of her car down the road.

As soon as I can no longer feel her, I slump back against the wall and wait for everyone to get their things so we can start getting inside. I just need to get through rehabilitation and my meeting with the medic staff; then I can finally go home.

I can’t think of other times I’ve been as tired as today, both mentally and physically - I’m wiped.

I manage to stay awake during my massage, barely, mostly because everything hurts. The stretching exercises outside go as smoothly as they can go. At least they help me release some tension in my back which is sore from compensating for my hip.

Even though he works out next to me the whole time, Mats remains quiet, but every now and then, I catch him staring at me. I don’t pay him much attention of course, until he sits next to me on the bench, a towel around his neck, and nudges me on the side.

“What are you doing after?” he probes.

“I haven’t slept,” I say looking at him, shielding my eyes from the sun. “I need to go home.”

“Oh...” He avoids my eyes awkwardly. “I could drive you home if you want.”

I get that feeling in my stomach then, as I look at Mats’ fidgety form. Something is up with him. He wants to talk to me, and I just know it’s about Cecilia.

Fuck my life.

What if he wants her back? Could that be what this is about? He wants her, and he wants to talk to me about it.

I can’t.

Not today. Not ever, I don’t think.

“It’s okay. I can drive.” I give him as casually as I can manage.

“Come on, you look pretty shattered to me.” He gets up in a rush, giving me no time to answer, as he starts walking away. “I’ll wait for you after your scan.”

Goddammit...

I seriously contemplate leaving — turning around, getting in my car and leaving.

What can Braun say that I don’t already know?

My hip is wrecked — what else is new?

It’s gotten worse — you don’t say!

The incessant pain and the failing of the pain killers don’t lie — I don’t need a scan to tell me that. It’s not going to make a difference though. Nothing will keep me from that game in three weeks. I won’t quit now.

Dr. Braun, of course, does not disappoint. I sit on that examining table and hear him go on and on about it: How it has most definitely gotten worse. How I needed that surgery yesterday.

“It’s just one more game,” I say before I yawn — the examining table looking more and more inviting for a nap. I really wish I would have gotten at least a bit of sleep last night.

“It’s not. The game is in three weeks. You can’t just not play until then. You’ll need to train, and stay match fit.”

“I’ll just take it easy in the next two games, then.” I shrug.

“Lukasz, I’m not clearing you.”

Until then, I had been staring at my feet, dangling from the table, but as he says the words, my head snaps up. “What?! No. You have to.”

“I can’t. I don’t think you should play anymore. If it was up to me, I’d have you on rest starting right now and as soon as the inflammation goes down, I’d have you in that OR.”

“It can wait three weeks, Braun, come on.”

“I won’t make that call.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring sternly at me.

This can’t be happening. “Then what?”

“You’ll have to see the specialist in Munich. He will be the one performing the surgery on you anyways. He’ll have to clear you.” He’s already walked back to his desk and is ruffling his desk in search for a piece of paper.

“You can’t be serious.”

“You think you can get to Munich by tomorrow night?” he asks without looking at me while he fills in a form. “I’ll make an appointment right now.”

“Do I even have a choice?”

He shakes his head, leaving the room.

I hang my head in my hands. This can’t be possible. They won’t keep me from the CL final.

I can’t... this can’t... ahh shit!

When there’s a knock on the door, I’m ready to tell Braun that I need to talk to Klopp first, and that I won’t take no for an answer, but as luck would have it, it’s not him who is at the door.

Shit...

I had all but forgotten I was to make my escape before Mats got here. I hobble down from the table with a groan grabbing my hip because, as if I don’t have enough to deal with at the moment, it has decided to start hurting again.

I groan and I limp and I groan again, searching for my shirt and my pants, as Mats just stands quietly watching me from across the room.

“Mats, I can’t do this right now,” I bark, once I’m clothed.

“What happened?” he asks, genuine concern coloring his voice.

I have to pause, panting, and clasping a hand on my hip. I should have had that stupid shot this morning. After some stretches and massages, the pain was manageable again, so I decided against it, because I had already had one after the game. The shots mask the pain too much and they interfere with my healing. I was doing fine earlier, now I’m about to double over from the pain.

“Hey...” Mats’ hand is on my shoulder, as he helps me back and I rest against the table. I take deep breaths and think of pretty green eyes until I manage to straighten my back again.

I look up to Mats, once I have gotten myself together.

“Your hip’s kaputt?”

I wish I could smile at his term, instead I just nod.

“Would you make it to the final?”

“I don’t know...” I answer through my teeth. “He wants me to see the specialist.”

“In Munich?”

“Yeah...” I scratch my neck, resting back against the table, trying to get some weight off my leg.

“How much pain are you in, bro?”

“It’s never been this bad,” I admit.

“Then maybe you should go see him.”

“I have no choice in the matter.”

“So you’re going to Munich?” he asks, stepping away from the table.

“I guess...” I watch him pace in front of me, pulling at his hair.

Oh no. I know where this is going.

No, no, no.

Please.

“You know...” Mats starts. “You really scared Cee Cee this morning...” His eyes burn as he mentions her name, and so does everything inside me.

I look down, trying to hide my face from him.

I can’t do this right now, Mats. Please. Don’t make me.

“She cried and shit.” The chuckle that comes out of Mats is a humorless one.

“She worries too much.” I eye the door, willing Braun to please come back in, as I fail to keep the images of Cecilia asleep on my chest from assaulting my brain.

“I think she cares about you,” Mats says, taking me by surprise.

I shoot him a glance, and he is still staring pointedly at me.

I get the feeling this conversation isn’t going toward Mats wanting Cecilia back.

This is about me.

He knows.

He’s seen through me.

Fuck.

My leg starts bouncing and I can’t help it. I’m a terrible liar. Can I lie to Mats? Can I lie about Cecilia at all?

“Don’t you think?” Mats insists.

I clasp my hands around the edges of the table to keep from biting my nails.

“Well, as a friend... of course.” I manage to say.

“Nah...” Mats shakes his head, resumes his pacing. “I’ve seen how she looks at you.” He pauses again, shooting me a glance. “How you look at her these days.”

I hang my head. I don’t have the strength to do this. Not today.

He knows, and I can’t deny it and insult him even further. I couldn’t possibly be a worse friend.

As I rake my barely functioning brain for a way to properly apologize to him, he keeps going.

"For the longest time I thought you didn't like her. You were so polite, so respectful, but always avoiding.” My friend, my brother, figures everything out. “You were just trying to stay away from her, weren't you? Out of respect... for me?"

My mouth hangs open, but no sounds come out.

“The day I met her, before I told you about her, you said you had met someone too. It was her for you too, wasn’t it?”

I sink deeper and deeper. I can’t even find my voice to admit this to him.

“Piszczu, do you love her?” There’s hurt, anger in his eyes.

"Mats, I swear...” I make myself say. “Nothing has happened between us. Nothing. I have not touched her, and I never will. I promise."

“That’s not what I asked,” He says simply, leaving me speechless again. “Are you in love with her?”

I can’t.

I can’t.

"Shit, man… all of this time?"

"It's not like that...” I wish there was a way to explain, but no words seem appropriate. “You guys seemed happy, and I thought...” I lose my train of thought, try another angle instead. “Then I was with Paula, and well..."

“Why didn’t you say something? You’re like a brother to me!”

“What was I supposed to say?!”

Mats resumes his pacing one more time, pulling at his hair.

“I’m so sorry,” is all I can say from my hunched position on the table. If I thought I was wiped before...

Mats takes a deep breath, and when he walks to me I decide that if he wants to hit me, I’ll let him. Firstly because I can barely manage to stay up anyway, and secondly, because I deserve it.

In preparation, my body tenses. I kinda hope he goes for my face instead of my body, but at this point, I don’t really care.

When he sits on the table next to me with a sigh, I relax, marginally.

“Do you think...” he pauses, until I’m looking at him. “Do you think she might have feelings for you?” The hurt is still in his eyes, but there’s no hate there. I don’t think he will hit me after all.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I’m so sorry, Mats. I promise… nothing will happen. I will get over it, and if you want me to, I’ll stay away from her.” I might not be strong enough to do this now, but if I have to, I will.

Mats chuckles humorlessly again. “That would be stupid.”

I blink at him, unable to see where this is going.

"What if it's you who she wants... what if you're the one who's gonna make her happy?"

“I… I…” Words fail me. He is seriously considering me and Cecilia as a possibility. My brain collapses with thoughts, my heart with feelings I’ve kept bottled for way too long.

"How can I stand in between...” He takes a deep breath, his hands on his head, making an impossible messier mess of his hair. “How could I do that to her?"

I know Mats, like my own brother. I know this would kill him. He loves Cecilia — I can never have her.

“How could I do that to you though?” I say, the words hurt with the realization: Cecilia and I can never happen.

"Well...” He shakes his head slightly, getting off from the table, before turning back to look at me, his expression calm, resigned. “It might take me some time to get used to the idea... of... you two... but, I don't see how Cee Cee and I could be together that way anymore."

I struggle to come to terms with what he’s trying to say, my brain finding it hard to make sense of anything. I’ve been so wrong today. Every time I think he means something, he’s actually talking about something else.

I try to hold his gaze as I ask. “Mats, what exactly are you saying?”

“All I’m saying is, if you're going to Munich, maybe you should call Cee Cee and figure out how she feels.”

My head drops, and I hold on tightly to the edges of the table. I am completely overwhelmed. I don’t think I could have ever seen this coming. Could Mats really be so rational about this? I feel like I could pass out, that my brain is going to shut down any minute, because the amount of possibilities swimming in my head is simply just too much.

“Hey...” Mats sets a hand on my shoulder, gripping it tightly. “Are you sure you don’t want a ride? You look just about ready to collapse.”

The air filling my chest helps me straighten my back, and when I look up at Mats his eyes show nothing but compassion, understanding, even... pity?

Shit, do I really look that bad?

“I’m fine,” I tell him and he drops his hand from my shoulder then, taking a step back. “I’ll go straight home after this.”

“Okay...” He moves to leave, but turns to me once more as he opens the door. “I meant what I said.” And with that, he’s gone.

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As soon as my body slumps on my bed, I exhale in relief. I was barely able to drag myself into my apartment, and was really tempted to just crash on the couch. I stare at the ceiling, my fingers running over the edges of my phone in the front pocket of my hoodie.

I take the phone out, it’s only six at night. Cecilia must be getting on that train to Munich now, a five hour ride ahead of her. I hope she got some work done while she waited for it, and that she’ll be able to sleep on her way home. I’m sure she didn’t get much rest last night either.

I sigh, twisting the phone in my hand, wishing my brain would slow down enough to let me sleep. I can’t though — Mats’ words play over and over in my head.

He knows.

He knows, and he’s okay?

The thought doesn’t even compute in my head. Because me, going for it with Cecilia, has never been a possibility. I’ve always fought against it, and now just the thought...

Cecilia... and me... together. I can’t even think about it.

My finger scrolls through the numbers in my contacts. Her name appears, and with one touch, the green call button flashes in front of me. My thumb hovers over it for a second or two, until I just cancel the whole thing with a groan.

I could call her, just to wish her a nice train ride back, right? To thank her for coming to our game. At first, I thought she had come just for him, and that they were on their way to getting back together, but a part of me thought — hoped — she came for me too.

I think she did...

My finger pulls up her number one more time, but after hovering over it a few more seconds, I chicken out again.

God, I will never get through this...

I stare at my phone a little longer, and when it vibrates in my hand, I drop it on my stomach, after almost having a heart attack.

It’s a text... from Cecilia.

“Hey, on my way to Munich now. Hope the scan went okay and that you’re resting now. C.”

This time, my fingers don’t hesitate, and she answers after the first ring.

“Hey... I wasn’t sure if you were sleeping already,” she says.

“Cecilia, hi. I just got home.” And have been trying to call you for a good fifteen minutes, I add in my head.

“So, how did it go?”

“It went well,” I lie. I’m not even sure why.

“Oh good,” I can hear her breathe out in relief through the phone. I feel like an asshole for lying to her... and rightfully so. “I’m glad,” she says then.

My hand is over my forehead, pulling at my hair. I don’t want to get into discussing my meeting with Braun, but I don’t want to let her go either. “Are you on the train now?” Is the best I can come up with.

“Yes. Great seats too. Table, window, and no one with me.” I can see her smile in my head as she says this. I wish she wasn’t on that train by herself. I wish I could have gone with her. I can’t believe I almost offered to drive her to Munich myself... and I would have, had she let me.

“Good, good.” I say after some hesitation. Apparently my conversation skills have clearly taken a knock too.

“Are you okay?” she asks in concern, seeing — hearing — through me... even through the phone.

And here’s where I’m screwed — if I say that I am fine, she’s going to let me go; but if I say that I’m not, she’s going to worry.

“Yeah...” I give up.

“You should get some rest, Lukasz.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Okay... goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” I say in defeat, letting her go.

I close my eyes and turn in my bed... forever.

Every hour I look at my phone, until it’s eleven. It takes me five attempts to type in the text without any mistakes.

“Can you let me know when you’re home?”

I hope I’m not coming off too strongly, but... honestly, I don’t have the energy to care. Until I know she’s home, I won’t be able to sleep.

Her answer is, thankfully, almost immediate.

“Why are you not sleeping?”

“I don’t know.” I send her the text without even thinking, and my phone starts vibrating with a call a few seconds later.

“Cecilia...” I breathe into the phone, unable to keep my eyes open anymore, and therefore thankful to speak instead of text.

“I just got off the train,” she says. “Walking home as we speak.”

“Walking?”

“Yeah, the station is only four blocks from my street.”

“And you’re walking... in the middle of the night... by yourself.” I sit up on the bed, rubbing my eyes with one hand, and cursing my aching hip under my breath.

“It’s just four blocks,” she says, and it sounds like she giggled. Giggled!

“Why don’t you take a cab?” I ask, and she laughs again, this time I’m certain.

“I’m almost halfway already.”

“Cecilia-”

“Hey, it’s fiiine.”

I groan, flopping back on my pillow. She’s mocking me.

“Would you go to sleep now?” she asks stubbornly.

“Not until you’re home.” I can be stubborn too.

“I’ll text you when I get there,” she offers.

“Hmmm,” I want to object, but I can’t find the words. My brain is just working at a lethargic pace.

“Or I could talk until I’m there.”

“Yes...” I breathe out, relieved she knows that’s what I need.

“Okay... so... can you believe someone had the Champions League anthem as a ringtone on the train? Went off twice during the ride... gave me goosebumps.”

“That’s great...” I manage, barely, to keep a yawn from my lips.

She sighs, I think, and then starts going on about this kid who was with his mother on the train. I don’t know why she’s telling me about the kid, to be honest, but I’m thankful, because in no time, I hear her keys.

“Okay, I’m home.”

I wanted to say “Good,” but only a mumble comes out.

She keeps talking then, animatedly telling me about her neighbors’ dog and how she thinks they don’t walk him enough. I smile, because she’s adorable, as I try hard to fight the sleep threatening to overtake me. When she starts telling me about pit bulls though, how much energy they have, and how much activity they need to burn this energy, I lose... I think.

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