"I'm home!" She called from the door, balancing a cake in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. It was her birthday. Usually, she wasn't one to make a big deal out of it but Claudio's been moody and broody for over a month and so she decided for a change, she wouldn't make a big deal out of not making a big deal out of it.
Every year, they had arguments about whether or not it was a day that should be celebrated. He was adamant to give her special treatment and she was adamant, it was okay even he forgot. This year thought... This year he hasn't even mentioned anything about it.
"Birthday girl is here," she squealed, dancing to in front of him, holding up the box and the bottle in her hands.
"I thought we weren't going to make a big deal out of it?" He asked, not even looking up from his phone and she knitted her brows.
"We haven't really talked about it. I sort of assumed you're up to some kind of big surprise –"
"I forgot. I'm sorry," he said with a flat voice and her frown deepened. For a second she expected him to say it was a joke but he was still lost in his phone and there was not a single move of his lips that'd have indicated that he was hiding a smile.
She stood there like an idiot with a cake in her hand that she didn't even like – because yes, she got his fave after all she didn't really like sweets in general and he'd have most of it anyway – and a bottle of champagne that she also didn't like because it was too dry for her.
If this wasn't so unlike him, she'd sure as hell throw a fit. However, something was wrong. She felt it in the pit of her stomach for a while. He grew more and more distant with every passing day. He also barely slept, she knew it, even if he thought she didn't realize how many times he was just thrashing around, sleepless.
"Okay. I've had enough," she stated, putting the cake and the champagne on the table and kneeling in front of him. "What's going on?" She covered the screen of his phone, lightly forcing his hand down.
"Nothing." He shrugged, pulling his hand away.
"It isn't nothing. You've not been yourself for weeks and now –"
"Stop worrying. It's all fine." He dropped his phone and a painfully fake smile appeared on his face, one that made her cringe inwardly. "Let's have the cake. What did you get?"
And so they had the cake. She thought she could pretend it was all okay. She wanted to give him time to tell her what was going on when he felt ready. She could be a bit of a bully some time, getting too vehement with wanting to help and she didn't want to make that mistake now. But then she couldn't take it anymore. He was acting all evening, his kisses were short, his smiles were fake.
"All right. I've had enough for real," she growled, pushing the plate away. "Stop pretending you're okay because I know you are not. Are you going to tell me what's going on or do I have to guess?"
"Jesus!" He jumped from the table, his jaw ticking. "Just leave me alone," he said with his voice shaking. She winced, glancing away from him. "I... I'm sorry," he breathed, running a hand over his face. He looked so careworn, the lines deepening on his face. His usually bright blue eyes somehow seemed dull and she ached for him so bad. If only he told her what was going on, maybe she could help... But she wasn't sure what she could say or do anymore. "I didn't mean to yell at you," he added with a gravelly voice, closing his eyes.
"I know," she said softly, reaching for his hand. She enlaced her fingers with his, just stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, an unconscious soothing motion he often did for her when she was upset.
"It's over," he said, his voice cracking and her heart clenched. "I'm done. I... Fuck... My career, football, it's all over." He raised his gaze to her and she bit her lower lip so she wouldn't start crying when she saw tears welling up in those beautiful ocean blue eyes. He looked so lost and so vulnerable in that moment, all she could do was jump from her seat and pull him into a hug.
He remained on his seat, just letting her hug him for a few moments, her hand lightly stroking his hair as she swayed lightly with him.
"What am I going to do now?" A sob burst from him and he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding onto her, his face buried into her top.
"Live. You're finally going to live, enjoy what you worked for, for so long and so hard." Tears fell down her face, not because she was going to miss skipping family time because of training or matches, not because she was going to miss wondering if a woman tried to throw herself at him again, certainly not because of all the stress... No. She was crying for him because she knew as much as she hated it, football was his life. "You're going to lay back a little and just live with no responsibilities, no one threatening your life, no one demanding more from you. Just live. And I'll be here every step of the way."
