Queen

I slid out of bed before Marco woke. I quickly changed into a beat up t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and shorts. I grabbed my phone and headphones off the nightstand and headed to the straight to his home gym. I slipped into my sneakers while descending the stairs and jumped onto the side rails of the treadmill, waiting for my phone to start up. I was too impatient to wait so I cranked the treadmill up to 7.5 mph.

The sweat had just started beading on my forehead and the small of my back. I was almost in the zone: this was the only time I don't think. I run hard so it hurts so much I can't think.

The near violent vibration of my phone against the treadmill console snapped me out of the pre-zone.

I had to straddle the treadmill on the side rails after reading the first few notifications.
goal.com app: Marco Reus warms up in test match and to a new girl
Sydney: and why haven’t you told me you two were legit dating?? gurlllll
daily mail app: Transfer target Marco Reus seen getting close with Chelsea Ladies’ player....foreshadowing?

I opened the Daily Mail app. “Fuck,” I hissed. The article contained about ten pictures of Marco talking to me against the fence, him hoping it, then us kissing from yesterday’s match. I was pissed that our bubble of solitude had been burst. I knew it would happen eventually. I let a sharp sign.

Of course it had to be about transfer talk. I felt a stir in my chest as I digested the fact that the Daily Mail glazed over my name and profession, as if I was just an accessory. I couldn't stand to read any more articles and gossip columns. I tossed my phone across the room onto the stretching mats. I hopped back on the treadmill, this time at 8.5, and ran for almost an hour.

~~~~

I threw myself on the stretching mat, gasping for breath. I threw my arms over my eyes and let my body sweat and breathed in and out, in and out. I was so focused on my breathing I didn't hear Marco walk down the stairs. He threw himself on the mat next to me. He was in sweatpants and shirtless, his hair still messy from sleeping. He had a protein shake with him that he wedged into my side.

I tilted my head to the side to look at him. "What's wrong?" Marco asked. The man was good: he could tell from one look if something was bothering me.

I sat up and stretched for my phone, still lying across the mat. I pulled up the article I had read earlier and handed it to him. I sipped my protein shake while watching his face react.

He sighed and sat up too. He locked my phone and slid it back to where it came from. With a gentle hand he brushed strands of hair off my sweaty face. "We knew this was going to happen," Marco said.

I put down my shake down and crossed my legs like a child listening to their mother tell a story. "I know Marco but it's weird," I ran my hands up and down my legs in an attempt to calm myself. I didn't know what I was feeling, I didn't know how to put that in words.

He leaned closed, as if to kiss me. "I know baby, but gossip columns and shit reporting aren't going to stop me from being with you out in public." He paused to place his palm gently in my face to turn it even closer to his. "You're more than what described you as. People will see that."

I leaned into his neck. "I know," I muffled. He rubbed my back.

"I love you."

I kept my face buried in his neck. The fear of trapping myself sewed my mouth shut.