Doubt Me Not

The next morning did not bring the calm, mature conversation that Sergio had anticipated as he had drifted off to sleep while watching Ximena sleep. Every person that walked by his hospital room glanced curiously inside to spot the bickering pair who’s voices clearly carried outside for all to hear.

Two different nurses interrupted their overly-animated discussion pleading with them to be mindful of the early hour and their surrounding neighbors.

“What are you looking for?” Ximena asked.

“Answers,” Sergio returned easily.

Ximena rolled her eyes, “No, I mean why are you literally flipping over pillows and opening every drawer you see?”

“I’m still in a hospital gown and day-old briefs, what do you think I’m looking for?” Sergio retorted without a glance in her direction. He had promised himself that he was going to be patient and mindful of his temper, but it was proving to be a far more difficult task than he had expected.

“I folded your clothes and put it in the cupboard over there,” Ximena nodded towards the only cupboard in the room, “All you had to do was ask.”

“You haven’t exactly been all that great with giving me answers this far,” Sergio muttered as he shut the drawer he had been searching.

“You are in a hospital, you got hit by a car less than twenty-four hours ago, excuse me if that’s my priority at the moment,” Ximena snapped indignantly.

“I’m fine,” Sergio growled, “Please, no need to start worrying about me now.”

“You are being so insufferable right now, my patience is wearing dangerously thin, do not make me rethink spending time with you,” Ximena warned.

“Why do you want to get rid of me so badly?” Sergio cried through an exasperated laugh as he spun around to properly face her for the first time.

“Shhhh, I don’t want the scary nurse with the whiskers to come back in here,” Ximena hissed with wide eyes and an index finger pressed to her lips.

Sergio almost laughed. He was instantly reminded of the last time he had seen her make that same, exact face. They had snuck into the Ramón Sánchez Pizjuán stadium and a security guard had paced past their crouched figures, and she had been petrified of getting caught. He hadn’t been able to stop laughing then, and he wasn’t able to stop his smile now. Thinking back on it, he couldn’t even remember why they had snuck into the stadium at two in the morning beyond the fact that they had been young, drunk, and in love. When those three factored mixed together it seemed as if anything was a good idea.

Ximena had dropped her finger in mild surprise when Sergio actually obliged and kept quiet. Her brows furrowed together when she noted the abrupt appearance of a grin on his face and a distant look in his eyes.

“What is it?” She asked, unable to smother her suspicious tone.

“Nothing,” Sergio shook off her question and opened the cupboard to fling his neatly folded clothes onto the bed.

“They’re going to get wrinkled like that,” Ximena complained.

“My day old clothes are going to get wrinkled, oh what a horror,” Sergio facetiously remarked.
Before Ximena could reply, Sergio was shrugging off the flimsy hospital gown happy to be rid of the thing and was left in nothing but black briefs.

Ximena felt a blush creep up her neck and color her cheeks, and she made to turn around, but not before taking note of the accumulation of tattoos as well as the distinct toning of his entire upper body that was marred by purplish bruising. Sergio heard her audibly wince before she spun around, and glanced up to find her back to him.

“What? You’ve seen it all before…many times,” Sergio smirked and took his time pulling up his jeans, utterly unperturbed by Ximena’s coyness.

She ignored the reminder, but allowed herself a smile that Sergio had no way of seeing, “How are you feeling this morning? And before you get emotional on me again, I mean physically how are you?”

“It doesn’t hurt, not my head, not my sides,” Sergio assumed her wince had been brought on by seeing the extent of his bruising; “Honestly it’s fine. I’ve incurred worse injuries on the pitch.”
“It didn’t look fine,” Ximena remained unconvinced, “It looks like it hurts.”

“Are you ready to go?” He asked with an impatient huff.

“We need to wait for your doctor to officially sign you out,” Ximena reminded, “And you still didn’t give me an address.”

“You’re not getting rid of me,” Sergio promised, “I’m going where you’re going until you give me the answers I need.”

“You’re in day-old clothes.”

“I don’t care.”

“Fine, I need to check in on the driving menace, so we’re going to my apartment,” Ximena relented, although she was slightly mortified by the prospect of Sergio seeing the mess the apartment was in.

“Great.”

“You should probably get in touch with your family,” Ximena commented as she made a grab for her phone and wallet.

“I will, where are you going?”

“I’m going to get us coffee, I’ll be right back.”

Sergio sighed, just barely suppressing the urge to ask her to stay. But she had stayed the night, he consoled himself, maybe he could trust her to stay now too.

“You need to clean up the apartment; the place needs to be spotless and if I see a single one of your bras hanging around so help me Sasha,” Mena breathed into the phone as she spotted the coffee machine at the end of the corridor.

“Do you know what time it is?” Sasha whined.

“Listen, it is not my problem you stay up all night watching Doctor Who. Sergio is coming to the apartment with me and I need you to make it look presentable,” Ximena hissed as she inserted coins into the coffee machine.

“Is he like…obsessed with you?” Sasha was wide awake upon picking up on potential stalker vibes. Although why on earth Sergio Ramos would fixate on Ximena was unfathomable to her.

Ximena half-scoffed, half-laughed at the mix of worry and skepticism in Sasha’s tone, “No, he is definitely not, just get the apartment clean.”

“When have I ever dared not to do as you say?” Sasha asked.

“Don’t get tempted now,” Ximena threatened lightly before hanging up the phone, grabbing her coffees, and returning back to Sergio’s room.

The doctor had come and gone while she had been away. Ximena noticed the note on the table beside the teddy bear with the doctor’s indiscernible chicken scratch writing on it. Sergio was throwing on his white shirt when she walked back in.

“What did the doctor say about the CT scan? And the bruising too actually, do you need to ice it?”

“Nothing, it’s fine,” Sergio repeated the sentiment from earlier and forced along a smile that did nothing to hide his frustration. He had never felt so emotionally conflicted before in his life. He resented her so much for being away for so long, yet the prospect of him going even another day without seeing her was unimaginable. He knew he needed to try harder to be civil, regardless of her past actions. She was back, she wasn’t going anywhere, and he knew he needed to play nice.

Sergio grabbed one of the cups out of her hands, muttered a quiet thanks, threw the teddy bear under his arm, and walked out of the room with his half-dozen foil balloons trailing after him. The prescription was left for Ximena to pick up.

He took a sip of the tepid coffee, hated the taste, and was reminded of the macchiato from the day before.

“I went to the café yesterday,” He offered as a safe and civil conversation starter.

“Really?” Ximena’s eyes brightened, before she even had a chance to be wary of Sergio’s abrupt change of attitude, “I was going to go too after I stopped by the dance studio. Was the macchiato as amazing as I remember?”

“It was,” Sergio assured as curiosity pressed him to ask one of the seemingly endless questions that bugged him, “How long have you been in town?”

Ximena quickly counted in her head, “Two days.”

If he was going to make an attempt to keep things civil, then she had no problem playing along. If anything, it was a relief.

Sergio opened his mouth to press for more details, relieved that Ximena was in an answering mood, but was cut off by a stern nurse prodding him to a halt.

“You are the patient from room 3102,” The nurse with the whiskers that Ximena was desperate to avoid impeded upon their elevator ride.

“No,” Sergio fibbed..

“Yes,” Ximena corrected.

“I thought so,” The nurse nodded and handed Sergio a paper cup with two little pills and ordered,

“Take these.”

“I feel fine; I don’t need painkillers.”

“Take these or stay for examination,” She bargained impatiently.

Sergio sighed and turned to Ximena who gave a small shrug. Desperate to avoid any more time in the hospital, he shut his eyes, grimaced, and chugged.

“I hate these fucking meds. I feel hungover and drunk at the same time,” Sergio groaned as he leaned his seat as far back as he could.

“I’m not carrying you inside if you fall asleep,” Ximena assured as she drove out of the hospital’s car lot.

“I don’t think I trust you enough to willingly fall asleep, but these fucking meds,” He grumbled, rubbing at his temples with one hand and slipping on his aviators with the other.

“Ok no, enough, you need to stop with that, you are not the only one dealing with crossed wires here,” Ximena snapped, finding it difficult to pity the footballer any longer. He wasn’t the only one that had been convinced of something that apparently wasn’t true. He wasn’t the only one nursing a broken heart, and somehow he was so certain he was.

“There are no crossed wires,” Sergio snapped, “You ran off right when we were about to leave for Madrid, you left me a letter attempting to explain yourself, and you never came back to me.”

“Did I leave something out?” Sergio questioned.

“I told you, Sergio, I was under the impression you didn’t want to see me again.”

“I still think that’s a half-assed excuse, and it just makes it that much more obvious that I’m the only one of us hurt over it,” Sergio couldn’t stop himself from pressing stubbornly under his breath.

“How can you say that?” Ximena asked in return, her lips twitching towards a hurt, indignant frown.

“All this time I’ve been looking for you, Mena. I’ve had all sorts of people looking for you, and nothing. You turned into a fucking ghost. And where have I been this whole time? The same, exact place you knew I would be – Madrid, so why didn’t you come see me?”

Mena laughed; there was no humor in the sound, “And what makes you so damn sure that I didn’t try to, Sergio?”

Sergio glanced at her from under the protection of his sunglasses. She was focused on the road, her eyebrows knitted tightly together and a frown glued to her lips as she waited for his response. Ten years and she was still the most stunning woman Sergio had ever come across.

“What happened?” Sergio wondered aloud as a yawn stretched his mouth. What happened that kept him away from her for ten long, lonely years.

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” Mena assured quietly.