Marc-André ter stegen
By fortheloveoffutbol
My friends had been in my ear all day, via text or phone call, letting me know all of what Marc had been up to but I didn't want to believe it. I felt hurt and most of all unsure and insecure. I had enough issues when it came to my confidence. There were so many times I wondered why he had chosen me over any other woman and these accusations weren't helping.
I had been sent multiple pictures of him with another woman trailing his steps and avoiding the sight of cameras, her eyes and part of her face blocked by the large sunglasses she wore. Meanwhile, Marc was just simply looking straightforward in most of the frames and heading into the mysterious building a few steps ahead of the mystery woman.
I surely didn't recognize her and he hadn't told me of any meeting with some woman. I felt sick to my stomach as my mind, always a pace ahead and on the side of negative thoughts rather than positive, thought of all of the possibilities. Was he cheating? If so he was doing a terrible job of hiding it. Plenty of paparazzi picked up on his presence and snapped a few satisfactory shots. If they only knew what problems it would cause.
My friends weren't helping the cause as they continued to fill my head with negative thoughts as well.
He's probably cheating, thinking you won't notice.
What if it's an ex no one knows about?
You can do better.
The same group that was never all that infatuated with Marc as my boyfriend were now continuing to turn on him just from the sight of a few pictures and I slowly was too. He had gotten wind of my ill thoughts and had begun texting me but I simply ignored the messages and eventually turned off my phone. I didn't feel like being bothered so a nice warm bath seemed like a good task to help me clear my head.
After getting undressed and running the bath water, I slid into the tub. My head rested against the edge of the porcelain. I got comfortable and closed my eyes. The silence was soothing until I heard the slam of a door downstairs and the yelling of my name.
"Y/N!"
Of course it was him. I immediately regretted giving him a key to gain access to my home whenever he wanted. There were moments I loved his random pop ups. This wasn't one of those times. Instead of answering I returned to laying my head on the edge of the tub with my eyes closed. I knew he was in the bathroom with the sound of his close footsteps.
"Y/N," he repeated. I stayed how I was and answered slowly. "Yes?"
"You didn't get any of my fucking text messages?" My head immediately jolted forward at his harsh language. "Watch how you talk to me." It wasn't often that Marc cussed when speaking to me but it was apparent that he was angry from his facial expressions.
"I was being nice to you in the text messages you wouldn't answer. I figured this would get your attention much easier and it seems like it has. What the hell is your problem?"
I responded in the calmest tone possible. "I don't have a problem."
"Well it seems like you do. Let me guess. Your friends are feeding you some bullshit about me as usual, right?" He was well aware how my friends felt about him, even my own parents but that was because they didn't know him as well as I did. They felt maybe his intentions weren't clear and that with how fast I was falling for him, he'd end up breaking my heart and leaving me to pick up the pieces.
"It's not bullshit if there are pictures to support it, Marc. But thanks for playing dumb." I knew he saw the pictures and was aware of the perception it gave off but his words right now weren't referencing that, instead placing the blame on others for how they interpreted the images.
"So you see a picture of me and another woman and all of a sudden you know everything? That's how that works?" His cheeks were now flushed as he began to spit off everything he had been holding in, the anger in his tone lifting each word. "You're always assuming bullshit instead of coming to me and asking me about it like an adult! It's so fucking childish that you'll be sitting here listening to your friends and their ridiculous assumptions when they know nothing. Literally nothing! They haven't even sat down and actually had a decent conversation with me before! They don't know who I am besides the fucked up perception they have of me because of you talking about our arguments to them. That's it so for you to go off their words instead of giving me the decency to explain myself is really fucked up, Y/N."
I wanted to be that calm mature woman that felt like Marc was being reasonable and it was I who was messing up but right now I was too stubborn to do so. Instead I just pitched his words back at him with the same attitude. "Well it's really fucking easy to assume you're doing something shady when you don't even tell me about this woman or what you're out doing!"
A look of angry amusement dawned on his face. "I really can't believe you." Instead of continuing, he just stormed out of the bathroom and probably downstairs. I wasn't done with the conversation though. I grabbed for my towel, hopped out of the warm water, dried myself off as best as I could and raced down to see Marc sitting on the couch, his head resting forward in his hands.
"Don't leave when I'm talking to you!"
"I'm done talking, Y/N. Believe what you want. I'm not explaining anything." His tone was now much calmer but that didn't help me ease my anger any. "Oh so we're just doing things on your terms? Since you don't want to explain anything, you don't have to?"
He ran his hand through his hair in frustration before looking up at me. "You wanna know where I was? With a real estate agent. Why was I with a real estate agent? Looking for a place for you and me so I wouldn't have to always make trips here or you swing by my place after work but I clearly made a mistake."
A lump formed in my throat, probably from all of the guilt that was now rising in my chest. I didn't question his story; I knew he was telling the truth which was unfortunate and fortunate. Unfortunate because I was now the bad guy and fortunate because he wasn't cheating like I originally thought.
I awkwardly adjusted the towel around me, unsure of what to say or do next but Marc took the first move and stood up from the couch. "I'm leaving," he uttered weakly.
"Wait." I took a few steps forward until I was now standing in front of him and blocking any chance of him leaving. "I'm sorry. I really am. I shouldn't have assumed but you know how I am. I ju—"
"Don't use that as an excuse," he warned. "I don't care how insecure you may get. Come to me if you have questions. Not anyone else."
I knew he was right and it sucked I hadn't followed those same words of advice from the beginning. "I know. I should have. I'm sorry."
He shook his head, showing he wasn't yet willing to take my apology. "If you don't trust me that just lets me know I was moving too fast with this house thing. I really don't want to talk about it anymore. Not right now. I'll...I'll come over tomorrow." Marc didn't wait for me to agree but instead squeezed past me and began his journey out of the door, leaving me standing there in my own guilt.
