𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀- neymar jr.

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

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IT'D BEEN ALMOST A MONTH since Neymar's surgery. The adjustment was hard, but after a while it got easier. 

He was now in a brace that was flexible and he was able to slightly walk, they wanted him to start moving as soon as possible. And after two weeks of recovery, you're walking with the support of your crutches. 

I hear the rustling sounds of him trying to get up, "Hold on, let me help you," I rush to him. "I'm... fine," he grunts as he gets to his feet. 

"Amor, you've done enough for me these past weeks, why don't you go out with Rafa? Have a nice time," he says. "It's okay baby, I don't mind helping you," I tell him.

"Can you just grab my phone for me? I want to go lay down," Neymar sighs. "Sure," I walked to the side table, grabbing his phone.

It lit up as he received a text from Rafaella. 

' do what you need to do, i'll distract her. '

It filled my gut with worry, what could he need to do? He was injured, he had no chance of getting anywhere without me. 

As Neymar laid in the bed, he looked at me. "Everything alright?" he asks. "Yeah, I'm not feeling too good, I don't think I'll go out," I tell him.

"No you need to! Maybe that's why you're not feeling good, because you've been cooped up in the house for too long," Neymar insists, "I'm just going to go lay down," I head toward the door. 

"Why not lay in here?" he asks, "I don't want to get you sick," I mumble.

I walk up to our normal bedroom, the bed was freshly made. We hadn't slept upstairs since before the injury. 

Rome was already down, so now all I had time to myself. I wanted to know more about that text message, but I didn't know how to ask without admitting I saw it. Neymar never cared if I looked at his phone, but lately, he's been a bit more protective of it. 

I snuck back downstairs, I could hear Neymar talking on the phone. 

"I don't know! All she said was that she wasn't feeling good," he said. "No, I guess call it off. I'll have to wait it out, once again," he sighs. 

What did he have to wait out?

"Mhm, alright. Yeah, I'll let you know and then I'll see you soon," he sounded upset. Like I had ruined his night.

I wandered back upstairs, laying back in the bed. My phone began to ring as I look over at the screen. 

"Hello?" I answer, "Hey babe, I heard you weren't feeling good," Rafa says through the line. "Yeah, sorry we can't go out," I tell her. "Everything alright? You sound sad," she asks. 

"Uh... No, everything's alright," I tell her. "Y/N, I know you, what's going on?" she asks. "Nothing! I'm fine, I just do not feel good," I lie. "Okay babes, well let me know when you're feeling better, I want to take you out," she sounded bummed out. 

"Okay, love you," I yawn. "Love you too," 

Maybe I'd missed my window to ask her what it was truly about, but I wanted to be alone. I needed to basque in my own thoughts to allow myself to come to the conclusions of what it might be. 

Neymar loved me, right? I wasn't crazy?

I wished he was simple, I wish I fell in love with a normal person. The toxicity of high profile relationships were so normalized I wished for anything other than this. 

I sit here, saying the worst things to myself, getting in my head. Maybe all he wanted was rest and for me to go out. 

I trust him. Right?

Right...

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