Chapter 21

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

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Kayla walks beside me while my mind is going 1000 miles per minute. I underestimated how awkward, how difficult it was going to be to be here, under everyone’s scrutiny, while wanting to be with Lukasz.

Kayla says Mats has told everyone we had a friendly break up. Whether they believed it or not, I don’t know. Kayla seems suspicious, but I don’t think it’s about the nature of our breakup. She suspects something else is going on, I can feel it. I just don’t think it’s appropriate for me to disclose whatever is going on with Lukasz to anyone.

The hotel in Wolfsburg is small and not fancy at all. They arrange a small dinner buffet for the guys while I sit with Kay. As soon as I see him come in, I know something is wrong. He walks slowly, almost too carefully, but without limping. His eyes find mine immediately and they try to convince me that he’s okay.

Mats walks next to him, an arm around his shoulder as they approach our table. The way Mats’ arm hangs over Lukasz’s shoulder seems off as well — it’s not casual, but purposeful — almost as if he’s helping him walk.

After finally making it to the table, they both sit, each on one side of me, facing Kay and Schmelle as well.

Besides shooting him a smile as he sits next to me, I try not to pay any special attention to Lukasz.  However, I am very aware that he remains still, silent next to me, while Mats and Schmelle make small talk mainly about the game.

When they mention Lukasz, and the fact that he outran Manni Bender, I turn in his direction. His food is still untouched in his plate. He tries to get rid of the frown in his forehead, but I catch it before he does.

When his leg starts bouncing under the table, I try to decipher what is wrong, because surely something is… very wrong.

Is this too much? Having me here, with Mats next to me as well, in front of everyone?

Maybe we didn’t think this through, and it was way too soon.

Without thinking, my hand reaches for his leg, and I softly run my fingers over his knee, over the denim of his jeans. The relief I feel when his knee stops bouncing is quickly disrupted by the screech of chair legs scraping against the floor. I whip my head around in just enough time to find Mats shooting up from his chair and urging away.

Kayla’s eyes are on me in surprise but Schmelle seems too busy eating to really notice or care.

I know what I should do. What I need to do is follow Mats, but my hand is glued to Lukasz’s leg and I feel anchored to him.

When I turn to Lukasz, one hand is shielding his eyes. As he runs it down his face, his expression is composed, leaving it void of any emotion. He smiles forcefully, gesturing with his head for me to follow Mats. His hand reaches for mine under the table as well, and with a little tap of his fingers over my hand, he nods at me in encouragement.

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I find Mats pacing in the lobby. “Mats…” I approach him quickly, trying not to make a scene.

“Cee Cee, I’m sorry… shit!” He runs a hand through his hair without looking at me.

“No,” I say firmly, moving closer and standing in front of him. “I am sorry. This is too much. Too soon. You’ve been so great, Mats. I am sorry this is so awkward.”

He takes a deep breath, finally looking at me. “I really tried, you know? I tried to make this as easy as possible, but… seeing you two together is going to take some getting used to.”

“I know. I shouldn’t have come.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing harshly. “Listen,” he starts. “He’s not okay. His hip is wrecked, and he played too hard today.” He pauses and shoots me a glance. “He said he had one of those shots, but it obviously didn’t work.”

Of course.

My heart sinks in realization. I’ve been so worried about everyone and everything else that I somehow managed to overlook what playing like he did today would do to Lukasz.

“I think he’s in some serious pain,” Mats continues. “And the only reason he’s sitting at that table, trying to get through this dinner, is because of you… He should be lying down.”

                                                                                         
I palm my forehead trying to contain the tears that fill my eyes.

“I’m going out with some of the guys…” Mats adds. “I’ll stay with Reus tonight, okay?”

I look up at Mats, his words slowly sinking in.

Of course Mats and Lukasz are rooming together…

Is he offering his room?

Is he suggesting I stay with Lukasz there tonight?

Tears start falling from my eyes, and I quickly wipe them away with my fingers.

“Cee Cee, he needs you.” He takes a step closer but then backs away. “Don’t worry about me, okay?”

Who is this selfless man, and what did he do to Mats?

I stare into his eyes, trying to figure him out. They seem sincere, a bit saddened, but honest.

“Go,” he insists. “I’m okay. I promise.”

With a sigh, I wrap him in a hug, whispering a quick ‘thank you’ into his chest.

I gather myself and rush back in, desperate to check on Lukasz.

At the table, I find only Kayla and Schmelle, and my eyes frantically start roaming the room.

Did he leave?

Did he go rest?

Suddenly, Kayla is pulling me away from the table and out of the dining hall into the small hallway to the restroom.

“He went in there,” Kay says. “He’s not okay, Cee Cee.”

“Has anyone else gone in?” I ask in determination, disregarding what it might sound like. Honestly, I don’t care. I know he’s falling apart, and I have to see him — I need to help him.

“I don’t think so, but Cee Cee-”

I don’t let her finish and I’m rushing in the hallway.

I pant and try to collect myself as I wait outside of the door. If the men’s looks anything like the women’s restroom, there will be a small waiting area between this door and the door that leads to the wash area and stalls.

“Lukasz?” I call, knocking softly. There’s no answer, so I step in.

The waiting area is empty, but I can hear the sound of running water in the other room.

On a whim, I lock the door from inside.

I call once more, at the other door, but still there’s no response, so I again go in.

Inside, Lukasz stands in front of the sinks, his back to me. He’s bent at the waist with his hands holding on the counter and his head dropped between his arms.

I walk closer from behind, looking at him through the mirrors. A soft groan emanates from his chest as he breathes harshly over the sink, while he wets his hand and runs it behind his neck.

My heart breaks — he is in pain.

When my hand touches his shoulder, his head snaps up. “Cecilia…” He turns around quickly. “Are you okay?” He stands up straight in front of me, tense, his hands in fists at his sides.

“You’re asking me?!” I don’t know if I want to hurt him more or take care of him. He’s still trying to pretend he’s okay.

He breathes out as his hand reaches for the countertop. He leans on to it, bending a bit at the waist, releasing the weight from his leg.

“I’m sorry…” He breathe-groans. “You were right. It was too soon. This is too hard.”

My stomach sinks. He can barely stand up straight, and yet he’s worried about me, about Mats, about everything else but that.

“Shh…” I move closer, standing right in front of him, my hands reaching for his face. “It’s okay.”

I don’t know how else to reassure him, how to help him.

“I thought I would be of more use tonight.” His eyes close in a wince as he breathes out through his nose.

“Please, stop,” I beg, pulling on his face.

He opens his eyes and they bore into mine and I could swear they are moist. “For so long I’ve had you so close… close to him and…” He pauses for air before continuing. “I could do it, I could stand it. But now… tonight… I can’t. I just can’t.”

My thumbs caress his cheeks, as I stand speechless in front of him. I can’t even begin to imagine what he’s been through… what he’s going through, trying to deal with this while already dealing with so much.

He closes his eyes, leaning into me until his forehead touches mine. His free hand mimics mine and he touches his lips softly to mine.

He exhales through his nose, pulling me closer. A shiver runs down my spine when he groans, both hands cupping my behind. A second later, I’m on the counter with my legs wrapped around his waist and he is devouring my mouth.

No holding back.

No reigning it in.

When he groans again, it’s a very different kind of groan, and the shiver that runs down my spine is very different as well.

He’s in pain…

My legs drop to his sides and his hand reaches for his hip.

“You need to lie down,” I say when his head drops on my shoulder.

He nods against my neck, breathing harshly.

“Can you walk, or should I get some help?” My fingers run on the back of his head where his hair is damp with sweat, water — I don’t know — while he takes a few breaths.

“I can walk,” he states after he has collected himself, straightening his pose, offering a hand for me to get down.

I grab onto his hand and he helps me down, staying very close to me. When I look up at him he offers me a smile, which I can’t begin to comprehend how much it cost to put there, and I melt when he kisses my forehead.

“Should I go out first?” I ask and he frowns, turning to look at the door.

We soon remember where we are, who’s outside, and our little moment ends.

“Maybe you should…” He clears his throat. His hand closes tightly around mine, antagonizing his words.

He’s holding on to me for dear life, and I start doubting he’d make it to that room by himself.

“Can you make it to the lobby?” I rub my thumb under the palm of his hand, looking up at him.

He takes a deep breath, his eyes shifting in the direction of the lobby. After a minute of consideration, he releases my hand and nods.

“Okay, I’ll meet you there,” I say.

His hands cup my face and he pulls me to him, pressing his lips onto mine.

Exhaling through his nose, he releases me and whispers “okay.” His hand reaches for the counter again to hold himself up.

I nod at him and rush out. I need to get him to bed as soon as possible.

I wait in the lobby for a few minutes, until he comes. He’s making his way slowly but surely to the elevators, not obviously limping but clearly struggling. I look down and try to resist the urge to rush and help him, to not draw any attention to ourselves. There are not a lot of people in the lobby, so I rush to the elevator instead and push the call button.

Lukasz makes it to the doors before the elevator gets there, and with a hand on the wall he holds himself up. The doors open with a ding, and when he makes no move to go in, I look at him. With a hand, he gestures for me to go in first.

As soon as the doors close, he slumps against the wall, breathing out harshly, his face contorting into a tight wince I wish I never have to see again.

My hand surrounds his, my thumb rubbing his palm, wishing I could somehow take some of the pain from him.

He exhales roughly, his fingers squeezing mine.

“We’re almost there…” I whisper, trying to keep my voice from breaking, trying to be strong for him.

A little over a week ago we were at an elevator, in Madrid, that time he was shutting me out, this time he’s letting me in — he is letting me help him.

When the doors open, he releases my hand, steps forward and holds the door for me to exit.

His limping gets more pronounced as we approach his room, and once we are inside, every step is accompanied by a grunt.

He makes it straight to bed, and as he flops on his back on top of the covers, the relief is obvious, even in his rough exhale.

He made it.

I stand there, in his bedroom, for a few seconds, uncertain about how to help him.

He is still breathing harshly, eyes in a wince, his hand pressing into his hip.

Why isn’t he better?!

“Is there anything that would help?” I ask tentatively, trying to calm myself. Freaking out will clearly help either one of us.

He groans a bit louder, and it is then I notice that one of his hands is tightly fisting the bed cover.

On an impulse, I’m on the bed, kneeling at his side, grabbing onto his fist. “Lukasz, please. What can I do?”

I settle next to him, caressing his arm gently, waiting for him to say something… anything. He starts breathing a little better, taking deeper, slower breaths, until he seems to have calmed himself enough to slowly loosen his grip on the bed sheets.

His fingers twitch beneath mine before he removes his hand completely, reaching into the pocket of his jeans.

He retrieves his cellphone from his pocket and hands it over to me. “Call Braun… please.”

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