And Just Like That

Twenty- One

The phone buzzed on Éabha's lap as she sat cross-legged on the sofa, the late afternoon sun slanting across the living room, painting stripes across the floorboards. She'd just made tea, the steam curling into the warm air, and had tucked her legs under her hoodie. Her hands rested absently on her stomach, still careful not to press too hard. The pregnancy was just starting to bloom — six weeks, barely noticeable, but still enough to make her feel a strange, new sort of responsibility.

She smiled automatically when she saw Johnny's name flash on the screen.

"Hey," she said softly when she answered, trying to make her voice steady.

"Éabha! How's my baby!" His voice was loud, bright, full of that same energy she'd missed so much. Behind him, the faint hum of a dorm room, the occasional shout or laugh of a teammate in the background.

"Still not noticeable, Johnny," she replied, teasing, curling her fingers slightly around the edges of her hoodie where it brushed her stomach.

There was a pause, then a low laugh from him. "Good. That's good to know." He cleared his throat, suddenly quieter. "Éabha... there's something I need to tell you. And I... I want to know what you think before I decide anything."

Her chest tightened. She'd been expecting news — training updates, tour schedules, small things. But the tone in his voice made her heart race. "Okay," she whispered. "Tell me."

There was a brief pause, the kind that stretched across the distance between them like a taut rope. Then Johnny's words came, careful but bursting with excitement: "They've asked me to join the senior team — until August. I... I don't know. It's a huge step. I mean, it's the senior squad, Éabha. This could... this could change everything for me. But I... I want your opinion. I want to know what you think before I say yes."

Éabha's stomach fluttered. Pride, fear, awe, all at once. Her mind spun, imagining him on the senior squad, wearing the green jersey, leading plays, standing taller than anyone else on the pitch. It was everything he'd worked for. Everything he deserved. And yet... it was still him, and she was still here, seven weeks along, tiny and new, holding her breath over every decision they made together.

"You... you'd be amazing," she said carefully. "Johnny, this is huge. This is everything you've ever wanted."

"I know," he said, voice husky, quieter. "But... I don't want it to be just about me. You and the baby... I want to make sure you're okay with it. I don't want to leave you feeling... I don't know... alone."

Éabha's lips curved in a small, wobbly smile. She wanted to laugh at the thought — him thinking she could ever be alone when he was thinking of her this much. "Johnny," she said softly, "I'm okay. I can handle things here. And... I want you to go. You need this. We both know it."

He sighed, half relief, half worry. "I don't want to miss anything... any milestone, any moment. Even if it's just me being away for training, I... I want to be there for you."

"You will be," she whispered. "Every time you can. And we'll text, call, video chat... whatever you need. And we'll figure it out. Together."

There was a pause, then a quiet chuckle from him. "I don't deserve you, Éabha."

"You do," she said firmly, smiling through the tears threatening to spill. "You're my Johnny. Always."

He let out a low laugh again, shaking his head. "Always. Okay... then I'll say yes. I'll join the senior team. But... I need you to promise me something."

"Anything," she said, heart thudding.

"Promise me you'll tell me everything. No matter how small. No secrets. I can handle it."

Éabha's hands went to her stomach, and she pressed lightly, the motion instinctive. "I promise, Johnny. Everything."

"Good," he said, voice softer now, intimate across the thousands of miles. "Because I'm going to need your strength, love. I'm going to need it more than ever."

"I'll be here," she whispered. "Always. And I'll be proud of you. Every single step."

They fell into silence then, not uncomfortable, just shared — two people tethered across distance, a phone line between them, and the tiny new life growing quietly under her hands.

Finally, Johnny's laugh broke the tension, low and warm. "I love you, Éabha."

"I love you too," she said, smiling through the tears she finally let fall. "Go smash it, Johnny."

And for the first time that day, she felt a little lighter — like they could survive anything together, no matter the distance, no matter the fear, no matter the unknown.