Fragile

Chapter 6 - Let Go

Surprise

~~~~

The movie was playing, but I wasn't really watching.

Bella was curled up on my lap, her warm little body rising and falling with soft, steady breaths, and I absently scratched behind her ears, my mind elsewhere.

It had been a few weeks since I'd been back in London. Training had picked up, the season was in full swing, and everything around me was moving at the usual relentless pace.

But my mind kept drifting back to her.

At first, we had talked constantly—texts throughout the day, late-night phone calls when Riggs was asleep, her voice warm and familiar even from an ocean away. But the last few days had been quiet. Too quiet.

I had sent a couple of messages—nothing too pushy—but the replies were slow, shorter than usual, like she was pulling back. Like she was ghosting me. I frowned, shifting slightly on the couch as I stared at my phone screen, the last text still sitting there unanswered. Maybe she was busy. Maybe school and work and Riggs were just too much right now.

Or maybe she was realizing that this—us—wasn't worth the effort.

I clenched my jaw and put my phone face down on the armrest, exhaling through my nose. The credits started rolling, and my mum stretched beside me, groaning softly as she shifted.

"Well, that was something," she said, rubbing her knee.

Dad, sitting in his usual chair, shook his head. "That was rubbish, Amanda."

Mum smirked. "You always say that when I pick the movie."

"Because your movies are always rubbish."

I chuckled despite myself, running my fingers through Bella's fur as Mum swatted Dad's arm.

"You two are unreal," I muttered, shaking my head.

Mum ignored me, standing up and stretching. "Right, I'm making tea. Anyone want one?"

Dad grunted something that I assumed was a yes, and I nodded.

She disappeared into the kitchen, and I settled back into the couch, my fingers still absentmindedly running through Bella's fur. Dad turned his head toward me, watching me for a moment before saying, "You alright, Leah?"

I exhaled, shifting slightly. "Yeah." He gave me a look. I sighed, rubbing my hand over my face. "Just got a lot on my mind."

He nodded, like he already knew. "Euros?"

I swallowed, leaning back against the cushions. "Yeah." The tournament was this summer, and no matter how much I pushed it to the back of my mind, it lingered there, a quiet, constant pressure. "I don't know if I'll make the squad," I admitted, my voice quieter than before.

Dad frowned. "Leah."

"I'm serious," I said, glancing at him. "The competition is tough. I've had injuries. Other players are stepping up. Nothing is guaranteed."

He studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Fair enough."

That surprised me. "Fair enough?"

Dad shrugged. "I'm not gonna sit here and tell you you're a shoo-in. You know better than anyone that football doesn't work like that." I nodded slowly, my fingers still tracing small patterns over Bella's fur. "But," he continued, leveling me with a look, "I do know that you don't get anywhere by doubting yourself."

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck.

Mum reappeared then, handing me a cup of tea before sitting beside me again. "What are we talking about?"