Keep Cool, Stay Tough

Surprisingly, the flight landed early, and as I contemplated what to do with the spare twenty-something minutes I had until Cesc was due to arrive, I found myself staring at a bouquet of bright hot pink and neon orange Gerber daisies gripped onto by Cesc. I wondered how long he had been standing there, and how much caffeine he had to have consumed to have such a bright smile on his face so early in the morning.

“To make it impossible to miss me,” Cesc explained as he pulled me into a tight, bone-crunching hug. I allowed my head to rest against his shoulder for a few seconds longer than I probably should have, partly to reduce the size of my smile, and partly because it felt just like putting on your favorite old sweater all over again.

“A beacon in the crowd,” I specified, feeling myself give a strange smile before I bit my lower lip and pulled away, “Clever.”

Neither of us made to move. I watched the emotions dance across his features from joy, to excitement, to worry, and to concern; while he took me in from head to toe making me wonder what I could possibly look like to him at that moment.

“How’s your dad?” He eventually asked.

People began to bump into us, and I could hear the muttering of impatient voices mingling with the indifferent yawning, but still we stood and watched, waiting for the other make the first move. It made me think that this uncertainty has been and will always remain to be the foundation of our relationship.

“Better, he’s getting discharged,” I glanced at my phone’s time, noticing for the first time that I had racked up quite a few missed calls, “in about four hours.”

“That’s really great, Geri mentioned the operation had gone well, and your dad had looked well when he had gone to visit,” Cesc answered.

I shook my head in disbelief as I finally made to walk out of the way of a particularly short, grumpy man who had been staring daggers at me from over his luggage cart. We left the already chaotic terminal and headed towards his car. I only had my carry-on to worry about so we didn’t have to waste any time waiting for the conveyor belt to spit out any more of my luggage.

“What is it?” He asked, pulling me from my thoughts and the carry on from my hand in the same second. When I made a face of indignation he simply handed over the beacon of neon.

“Barcelona’s entire first team, you, your sister, my aunt, cousin, everyone knew about my dad except for me. It’s still infuriating to think about,” I explained.

“He must have had his reasons to not bring it up Sen, just let it go, and be grateful that he’s going to be perfectly fine.”

“I’m working on it,” I grumbled.

I knew Cesc didn’t believe me.

“So how long do I have you for?”

I rolled my eyes at his word choice; he noticed and gave a dumb grin. He had stopped at a red light and pointed out yet another appetizing eatery that he simply adored. I stopped keeping track after the fourth restaurant he had gushed over.

“I have school to get back to so probably just today and tomorrow, depending on when I could catch a return flight.”

“That’s it?”

“What were you expecting?”

“Stay, longer than that, at least a week.”

I wondered what he thought he could possibly do with a week that would flip around the years of damage that time and distance had inflicted on our relationship, or what would his end game even be, but I didn’t voice my curiosity aloud. Not yet at least.

I sucked in a breath, as he pushed down on the gas pedal making me fall back against the seat; he had always been an emotional driver, “For what?”

“For me. For you and me to catch up properly for one thing,” He answered.

I could not understand for the life of me where and why that not-so-subtle tone of panic was ringing
into his tone. I frowned, but chose not to press him for a reason. I was too exhausted to have that conversation in the cramped confines of an AUDI coupe.

I laughed and dropped the subject instead, “So when do you need to be at practice?”

“I can call out,” Cesc assured and began practicing a fake cough as he slowed before turning onto a modern house’s driveway and waited for the garage door to roll up.

I shook my head, “No don’t do that, and don’t be ridiculous. Of course you’re going to go to practice.”

“It’s not that big a deal,” He assured as he pulled forward and shut off the car, “The title is as good as ours anyway.”

“No, Cesc, you are going to go to practice,” I stubbornly persisted and got out of the car with him following suit.

“Yeah, but that’s seriously going to cut into our time that we really don’t have a lot of apparently,” Cesc argued as he rested his elbows on the roof of the car.

“I’m going to be knocked out cold anyway because I haven’t slept decently in over seventy-two hours. What are you going to do, watch me sleep?” I demanded and mimicked his stance, locking my half shut eyes on his.

“Why not?” He asked with a straight face.

I laughed, I felt delirious from lack of sleep, and my eyelids felt heavier by the second, “Don’t be creepy, Cesc, go to practice, I’ll get some sleep, and we shall go from there. Coffee is doing that horrid thing where instead of jolting me awake it’s giving me a headache. I need to adjust.”

He still looked struck by indecision as we walked inside his house. The garage door immediately led to his immaculate kitchen where a fresh pot of coffee was already brewing. He dumped my bag on the nearest tabletop along with his keys and flicked on a light switch. The curtains were still drawn tightly shut on the floor to ceiling windows in his living room and I could just barely make out the edge of an invitingly cushy-looking couch just past the kitchen.

I flicked my eyes from my phone to his face at least a half dozen times before I gave another verbal push back out the door, “Go to practice! You know I have a hard time sleeping when I know you’re in the house.”

He nodded, his dumb grin going wide and toothy as he veered in on the same memory that was dancing before my mind’s eye.

“All those ‘sleepovers’ you used to have with Carls,” He reminded with a suggestive arch to his right eyebrow.

“All those alleged sleepovers,” I agreed, a rush of red creeping up my neck and festering in my cheeks. Nobody ever caught wind of the fact that as soon as everyone in the house had fallen asleep, like clockwork I would sneak out of Carlota’s room and into Cesc’s bed. All those little white lies that we used to tell people really added up as I looked back on it now.

“Sleep, eat, relax, I’ll be back as quick as I can,” Cesc grabbed his keys back off the tabletop and I could feel my eyelids already begin to droop as I threw myself on the sofa that was somehow even more cushy than I had anticipated.

***

I could hear a low, persistent voice humming somewhere in the back of my head. I rolled to my side as I tried to place the voice in my memory. I could feel that I was in an unfamiliar place, that things smelled different, and felt strange, but the name was just outside my realm of memory.

“Yeah, you know what can I get two orders of the pad thai and the springs rolls too actually,” The voice felt closer and more discernible.

Oh yeah, I had flown to London to visit my ex-boyfriend, and I had fallen asleep on his couch.

“Are you seriously watching me sleep, Cesc?” I asked without opening my eyes.

“It’s been over twelve hours Senna, I’m just checking to make sure that you’re still breathing at this point,” Cesc clarified before returning back to his phone order, “No, not you, ma’am, but that’s great your sinuses opened up after you saw your cousin’s acupuncturist.”

“Order extra sticky rice,” I called as I arched my back and stretched, realizing that I wasn’t in the living room anymore. One bleary-eyed glance around the room I was in and it dawned on me that Cesc had carried me to his own bedroom.

“I already did!” He called back.

Of course he did.

“You carried me to your bed, aren’t you the romantic?” I teased, “Have I gotten bigger? I promise I won’t slap you too hard if you say I did.” I feel like I would have imploded if I hadn’t commented on that little gesture of his when I finally ambled down the hallway and into the brightly lit kitchen.

He shrugged, “No, you felt the same as the first time I carried you. Do you remember that day?”

“When I sprained my ankle because of you and Geri during the beach bonfire,” I laughed, “Yeah, you don’t forget that level of pain easily.”

He waved off my grievance with a sloppy smile, “It all turned out fine in the end.”

“How was practice?” I asked, grabbing at the first possible change of topic I could think of as I yawned and stretched my arms out over my head before hopping onto the black granite kitchen countertop.

“Same,” Cesc answered, giving me a strange look from across the kitchen island.

“What’s same, Cesc? I have no idea if that means great, good, okay, bad, awful,” I listed with wide eyes and eccentric hand gestures.

“It’s good, Sen, we are just about two games away from winning the league,” Cesc specified, a smile creeping onto his countenance, “So things are good…things feel secure.”

“Good, I’m honestly happy to hear it,” I approved, “For you, I mean, I couldn’t care less about Chelsea.”

“So anyway since you slept for twelve fucking hours-“

I cut him off, indignant, “My father was in the hospital jerk! I would love to see the animal you become after seventy-two hours of no sleep.”

I laughed picturing Cesc with perpetual bed head and morning breath. Speaking of…as soon as Cesc dipped his head down to pull drinks from the fridge I did a quick breath check and sure enough my breath reeked of stale coffee and twelve hour’s worth of morning breath. Cesc must have a spare toothbrush in the bathroom…

He shut the door and came to a stop within breathing distance of me, and of course I panicked.

“No, don’t come too close, Cesc,” I pushed him back with one hand, covering my mouth with the other.

His eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“My breath smells like death,” I explained without removing my hand.

He laughed, “Oh is that what that was. I thought I had something rotting in one of the cupboards.”

“That’s not what you’re supposed to say!” I hit his arm.

“I never say what I’m supposed to say when I’m supposed to say it. Isn’t that why you were eternally annoyed with me?”

“Touché,” I conceded.

I disappeared to the bathroom to freshen up and by the time I returned, the food had been delivered and Cesc had set a table that included vintage wine, sexy candlelight, and Sam Smith crooning softly in the background.

“You are just on a roll tonight with the romance mister,” I mocked as sweetly as I could. It felt like grade school all over again, but with much stricter consequences.

“Hey, just because you mock, doesn’t make it any less romantic,” Cesc pointed out as he pulled a chair out for me.

“Agreed, but honestly there’s no point to go to all of this trouble because –“

“Ah,” He cut me off, “Save that for later, I can’t right now with any of that; just humor me for tonight at least.”

“There’s really no point,” I insisted.

“Please,” He emphasized.

“Fine, but it’s not going to change anything,” I tried to make him understand.

“It might.”
I forgot that Cesc was one of the few people with the capability of being even more stubborn than me; maybe because he had always been the more optimistic of the two of us too.

Dinner was largely spent reminiscing over memories that we both somehow remembered slightly differently. After that initial vague attempt that I had made to begin the conversation I was here to have with him was shut down, I decided to leave it for tomorrow even though at the back of my head I was rehearsing all the things that were left to say and do.

***

“You’re wearing my shirt,” Cesc greeted me the next morning when I walked out of his guest bedroom rubbing at my eye and trying to sniff out a cup of coffee.

“It looks better on me, I’m keeping it. Did you make coffee yet?”

He nodded towards the counter where the fresh pot began to beep as if politely pointing out its existence, “Enjoy the coffee…and the shirt too apparently.

“Thanks,” I gave a sleepy smile of acceptance.

“You sleep okay? You still look…off.”

“Shut up, I look fine, and I slept just fine.”

He laughed, but didn’t press the topic.

“I called my dad,” I volunteered my own change of topic as the coffee began to work its wonderful magic on me.

“Really, how’s he doing?”

“Alright, he has to go for weekly checkups for the next month and a half, but knowing Joie she’ll stay on top of it,” I gave a one-shouldered shrug, “I’m going to go back to visit soon.”

Cesc glanced at the door and back at me. I tilted my head with a questioning look on my face.

“You want to go for a run together?”

We spent the majority of our day together outdoors in a nearby park. We found a group of kids who looked to be in their early teens and joined them for a pickup game of football. It was bizarrely similar to our younger days when there were no expensive stadiums, cleats, and crowds. It was just us, a ball, and a goal. Much to Cesc’s chagrin, my football skills hadn’t decreased too much over time.

It was gathering dusk when we walked back to his house, amazed at the distance we had run, and the amount of time we had spent playing football.

I was too impatient to wait for him to order food so we just had the leftovers from the night before while staying on our feet in the kitchen; even going as far as fencing with chopsticks for the last spring roll. To me, this honestly felt more romantic than the fuss he had made the night before.

“This is nice,” Cesc announced as he took a swig from his bottle of water.

I nodded absently; too distracted with my food to anticipate where he was going with his comment.

“You can come to Leicester with me tonight,” Cesc invited abruptly, making me choke on a broccoli stump.

“For what?” I asked.

“We’re playing over there tomorrow night, come watch me play with the Blues.”

“We’re never, ever getting back together, Cesc, you will not be my next mistake,” I blurted out before I could rephrase my words.

“What is with you and Taylor Swift songs?” He asked.

“Don’t ask, you don’t want details,” I assured tiredly as flashes of Sergio and Karim sprang to mind when we had sang the chorus of ‘Never ever getting back together’, “Or you know what, ask Sergio if you’re that curious."

And I would never, not even on pain of death, audibly admit this to anyone, but I missed Madrid.

“I am trying to have a serious conversation, Senna,” Cesc brought me back to the present with an impatient huff.

“So am I, Cesc,” I arched a brow, “If you want the serious, honest, no holds barred truth, here it is: I don’t like the girl that I become when I’m with you. You make me tense, and reckless, and careless, and I forget that I need to have my own stuff too and not rely solely on my partner AKA you. You, or probably any other footballer, you guys encourage your girlfriends and wives to be completely wrapped up in your life, in your career, in your looks, but I need my own career, my own goals, my own everything.”

I waited to catch my breath as Cesc took a minute to allow my words to sink in. We worked on clearing the kitchen in silence before making our way to the living room’s cushy couch.

“What if we give it a little more time then?” Cesc suggested.

“Give time to what?” I asked, feeling dumb.

“For you to figure out what you want to do; if you want to become a physio or a therapist, or media consultant, or a freaking astronaut, I’ll follow you to the moon, Senna.”

It broke my heart all over when he said that because I couldn’t even follow him to Leicester. I had already booked my flight back to Spain, and it would be leaving at midnight.

We sat side by side on his couch, both of us staring out the windows, neither of us knowing what to say. The little distance between us felt charged by our indecision. My stomach tied itself in knots as I grappled with what the next few moments could become. I knew what to expect when I took my eyes off the window, and I still did it anyway. Cesc was stepping into this with eyes wide open, I reminded myself. I told him over the phone all those weeks ago, and I told him again last night that nothing was going to change.

Pain and passion freely flowed through me as I gripped onto a single point and allowed everything else to temporarily fall away. He owed me this after all. After years of bending backwards, forcing smiles I didn’t feel, all for him, he owed me this night. He owed me a real goodbye. And even if it was just for one night I needed him to feel the hope that I held in me all those years when I waited for him to come back to Barcelona, and how with one cruel, weak choice on his end all that hope in me was destroyed.

I closed my eyes and crashed my lips against his, my hands finding everything familiar, warm, and unforgotten as he busied his hands with pulling my shirt off. He fell back against the couch in a sudden, fluid movement taking me with him. The change in position was enough to jolt me awake.

“I can’t do this,” My voice rose with its sudden forcefulness as my hands went limp and dropped to my sides, and I pulled away from Cesc’s half-open lips and came to my feet.

“We can do this, we can try again, we’re different people, we deserve to give each other another chance,” I could feel Cesc’s eyes on my exposed back, urging me to understand him, to see the bright future he was promising me.

“I know,” I readily agreed, “I know we’ve become different people. That’s the point. That’s why I was able to come here and not worry –.”

I wanted to say and not worry that I was going to fall in love with you all over again, but I bit my tongue and Cesc picked up the conversation without a beat in between.

“Things are so different, Senna, I promise you, I am different,” His words carried urgency and promise in their repetition, but I shook my head and opened my eyes, allowing the dream he was trying to make me see dissolve like a puff of smoke.

“I’m not a coward like you were, so I couldn’t do this over the phone. And I have not become vindictive enough to sleep with you and give you hope where there is absolutely none to give, Cesc!” I shouted; my patience snapped and shattered into pieces all around us, “It doesn’t bloody well matter how different you and I are now to the way we were then.”

“Yes it does, all you need to do is say yes, and we can have it all together here. You and me, for the rest of our lives,” Cesc was as adamant and stubborn as ever.

He was still dreaming with his eyes wide open. Somehow he still allowed himself to hope even when I tried to be so careful.

“You broke my heart, and you expected me to smile and say thank you for allowing me the privilege of staying apart of your life when you came back with her, and you know what, I did it, because I loved you enough to be patient and to be kind, and to be understanding,” I explained with my hand pressed against my lacy black bra as my eyes bored into his.

I looked away and began to pace the short length from the window to the couch. I was only vaguely aware that he kept his eyes on me, and how I completely lacked the ability to un-furrow my eyebrows and undo my continuous scowl.

“I did not expect you to give me bullshit smiles, and act like everything was fine when it wasn’t, why wouldn’t you just talk to me?” Cesc refuted impatiently.

“I tried,” I cried, coming to a stop and turning towards him with wide, shocked eyes, “When did you return my calls? When would you stay in a room alone with me long enough for me to talk to you? You knew you took the coward’s way out and you just kept going down that road, avoiding me and avoiding me, until I realized that I had to take the initiative and make sacrifices to keep you in my life, Cesc, come on,” I waved off his flimsy defense with an incredulous scoff and resumed my pacing.

Cesc was quiet, contemplative. He fell back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. I focused on breathing and I refused to allow myself to retract, I refused to soften my words.

I laughed, feverish with my sudden eruption of pent up anger, “What was my other option, honestly Cesc? I was a desperate girl, who wanted the love of her life to stay in her life by any means, even if it meant falsifying and underplaying my own feelings, and I did it, and I kept doing it until it started to feel normal.”

“I know I was a coward, and I’m sorry, but I’m asking you, I’m pleading with you now to let the past go, and for us to try to build a strong future together,” Cesc’s voice was low, as the words tumbled over each other and into the open space between us.

“And I am telling you that’s not going to happen. I am here to make sure you understand that this is completely over. There are no good feelings and no hard feelings – there’s nothing between us now.”

I grabbed my shirt off the floor, pulled it over my head, and went to the guest bedroom to grab my bag. I checked the time and knew I needed to leave immediately to catch my flight, and Cesc needed to get to the team bus to make it for curfew at the hotel. I returned to the living room to remind him before I left.

He was already gone.