Leah POV
Time hadn't changed her, she still looked as perfect to me as she had the first time I laid eyes on her. That day was the strangest feeling, I expected to feel sadness when I entered that room, but it was impossible to feel anything beyond the butterflies that still fluttered around in my stomach every time I set eyes on her.
"We cuddlin'?" She grinned up at me, eyes heavy but smile just as bright.
"Always, Al."
I made my way into the bed beside her, feeling comfort and safety immediately in the arms of the person I'd prayed I'd spend my life with, and I had.
"I love you." I whispered.
"I love you." She whispered back.
We began to recall our favourite memories of our life together; from that first meeting to our wedding day, from each birth, to the times we thought we were over for good. I felt the need to bring up that time in my life that I regretted more than anything, I had to hear her say she forgave me one last time.
"I never meant to hurt you, you know?"
"Leah! If you're about to apologise again for Harriet, I swear to god." She chuckled.
"It's my biggest regret."
"It shouldn't be. It was part of our journey, if we hadn't been through that we could've maybe not been here today."
"You make everything better, Al. I wish you could make this better."
"I have a plan to help you, I promise."
"What is it?"
"It's a surprise." She laughed.
"I love that." I whispered.
She let out a yawn, and I knew it was almost time. Her body was tired, even if she was trying her best to fight it. I wasn't ready to let her go yet, though. I couldn't.
"Al, do you remember the day I won the World Cup?"
"Which time?" She jibed.
"The last time."
"Of course I do, I practically threw myself down those steps and onto that pitch.
Flashback:
"C'mon. Blow the fucking whistle!" I shouted.
"6 minutes of injury time." The assistant manager whispered in my ear.
"Fuck."
I paced up and down the grass, willing the girls to keep hold of the win for just six more minutes.
"Fuckkkkkk!" I shouted.
The referee had just blown the whistle for a free kick just outside the box, threatening our 3-2 lead that would win us the World Cup.
I couldn't watch, turning my back and gazing up into the stands. And then I saw her. She was stood staring right back at me, a wink and a smile for me as she gave me that reassurance from afar that she still believed we could do it. I saw her closed mouth smile change to a full grin, and that's when I knew.
We'd won.
I ran onto the pitch, trying to be respectful to our opponents, but unable to contain my excitement. So many had said I wouldn't do it, they'd said she thinks just because she captained a team to victory that she'll be able to manage a team to one. I had though, and I'd done it with my family by my side throughout.
"Incoming." Was all I heard from the players before I felt someone pouncing on my back.
I could smell her perfume before I even turned my head to look at her, kisses being placed across my cheek with no care for the hundreds of cameras that were likely pointed at all.
"My fucking superstar." She beamed.
"Did you just invade the pitch?" I chuckled, setting her down gently and turning around to wrap my arms around her waist.
"I did. And I'm probably on camera cheering for England right now, but my wife just won the World fucking Cup so let them try to arrest me. Let them try!"
— — — —
"I'd never seen you as happy with winning something as you were that day." I smiled.
"I know, and it wasn't even me who won it." She chuckled.
"It was, Al. You never saw it, but behind every win I made was you. All my dreams came true because you stood beside me."
She wiped a tear from my cheek, shaking her head slowly from side to side, almost like she was saying no tears, Le.
"I'll be with you as soon as they're okay alone, Al. I promise you." I whispered.
"You go to that wedding. You promise me?"
"I promise." I nodded.
"I can't wait to see you, Le. I can't wait to see you when you come to find me."
She let out another yawn, I really need to let her go. But I can't.
"One more story, Le. One more story." She whispered.
"Which one would you like, Al?"
"Aoife in the park with Millie's son." She chuckled.
"Oh god." I facepalmed.
Flashback:
That day was no different to the others, we had waved Aoife goodbye as she went to study with her friends for her GCSE exams.
"Should we take Bobby to the park?" Alex asked.
"Yeah, it's a nice day for it." I agreed.
If only we had known.
We spent the day running around the park with him, helping him down slides and tiring our arms to meet his repetitive push me higher demands.
"What the hell." Alex said, squinting her eyes.
"What's wrong?"
"Is that Aoife at the ice cream van?"
"It is. The little witch has lied to us." I chuckled.
"Who's she with? Is she on her own? Oh, god, you don't think she's being bullied again?"
"I think - I'm pretty sure - that's Millie Bright's son!" I widened my eyes.
They collected their ice creams, walking off hand in hand to a bench, we watched from the distance as they chatted, her smile making it difficult to be angry at her.
"I don't like him." Alex huffed.
"You don't know him, Al." I giggled.
"I don't need to - I'm getting bad vibes."
"From seeing him eat ice cream?" I giggled harder.
"Nah, he's not good enough for her. We'll have to tell Millie to keep him indoors." She puffed.
"Oh hi Millie, can you keep your child indoors because Alex isn't ready to see her little girl having a boyfriend." I joked.
"Not funny. I'm not finding this funny. I should go get her."
"No you should not!" I protested.
"So what? We just leave her there? What if she gets pregnant?!"
"She not going to get pregnant from eating an ice cream, Al." I shook my head playfully.
"He's a bad influence."
Her reasons for hating him didn't stop there, Alex reluctantly agreeing that we would wait until Aoife was home to confront her about lying to us, rather than embarrass her in front of her boyfriend. I tried to be tactful, Alex was not.
"I don't like him."
"You don't know him, mum." Aoife rolled her eyes.
In the end we agreed that he would come round for dinner, that night being probably the funniest night I'd had with Alex. The woman who was usually so reluctant to judge, sat at the other side of the table giving a 15 year old boy the side eye.
"This is really nice, Leah. Thanks." He smiled.
"Mrs Williamson." Alex mumbled.
"Sorry - yeah - Mrs Williamson."
"Leah is fine, ignore grumpy over there." I smiled.
"So, Lucas, what do you want to do when you're older?" Alex asked directly.
"I want to be a musician."
Alex tried to hide the interest she had, not wanting to give him any indication she was happy with his presence. Stubborn as ever.
"Oh. You play instruments then?"
"Yeah. Piano, and guitar. Aoife showed me pictures of your music room - it's cool. I was hoping maybe I could see it tonight."
Bless him.
"No, unfortunately it's off limits."
I kicked her under the table.
"Usually. Obviously, since you asked - you can see it." She corrected herself.
"I'd really like that." He smiled.
"So you don't want to pass your GCSE's? You know Aoife does? And she has to revise?"
I rolled my eyes, as did Aoife.
"Actually, we revise together a lot. I have to get good grades if I want to go to the school of music."
Impressive.
"The school of music - I see." Alex nodded.
"Did you go there?" He smiled at her.
"Nah. Didn't need to."
Another kick under the table from me.
"But - I - got lucky. It would've been cool to go there." She added.
Eventually, she came round to the idea. Telling him that it was her job to make sure he was good enough for Aoife. They didn't stay together, Aoife being heartbroken at first but soon becoming best friends with him again. His first ever live show was as a support act for Alex at her farewell tour, talk about a full circle.
— — — —
"I always liked him, I don't know why you were so hard on him." She chuckled.
"Yeah right, Al!"
She let out another laugh, burying her head into my chest and letting her body rest, the exhaustion of all this talking completely tiring her out. I thought that was it, I thought that was the last I would hear her voice - but it wasn't. She had something else she wanted to say.
"Le?"
"Yeah, Al?"
"I'm so glad we made it."
"Look how far we've come my baby." I whispered, finishing off that line of the song she had sang to me so many times.
I knew this was it. I had to let go.
I tearfully called our four children in, each of them sitting as close to the bed as possible. I kept my head on my shoulder, just as we had lay many nights throughout our years together; this time our hands were interlocked with the hands of our children, creating some kind of circle of goodbye.
"I love you." She whispered out into the room.
"I love you, Al. I know you're tired baby, I know you have to let go."
And she did.