Chapter 45
CALLUM
Burnout - Pinguini Tattici Nucleari
He didn’t think it was possible, but Leif looked even paler than usual as they walked toward the pub around the corner where Alejandra and Asma had stopped to eat.
Under the dim London streetlights, his skin almost blended with the grey of the evening, jaw tight, shoulders slightly hunched like he was bracing for impact.
Callum had managed to whip up some food from the fridge while they waited—a couple of sandwiches that were, admittedly, pretty fucking good. Not that Leif had seemed to taste any of it.
“Are you nervous?” Callum asked, glancing sideways at him.
“No,” Leif blurted out immediately, too quickly, as he took a drag of his cigarette.
Callum slowed his pace just slightly, watching him. That was new. “Since when do you smoke?”
Leif exhaled, the smoke curling into the air between them. “I—Sometimes I do it when…”
Callum cocked an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Let me guess… when you’re nervous?”
Leif groaned, dragging a hand through his hair, not even attempting to deny it.
Yeah. Thought so.
Beside what he had already told him, Leif had avoided the topic entirely in the two hours the girls had been gone. They’d eaten, played Call of Duty, and for a while, shooting pixels on a massive TV had seemed to bleed some of the tension out of him.
But clearly, not enough.
“Everything will be fine,” Callum said, clapping his shoulder as they pushed open the pub door.
Warm air hit them instantly, along with the noise—voices overlapping, glasses clinking, and the unmistakable commentary of an Arsenal match blasting from the TV mounted above the bar.
Callum instinctively glanced up at the score before scanning the room. It didn’t take him long to find them.
Alejandra and Asma were tucked into a corner booth, bent over in laughter, shoulders shaking, completely absorbed in whatever they were talking about.
A smirk spread across his face.
That laugh, it was fucking contagious. She laughed with her entire body, head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut, one hand gripping the table like she needed something to hold onto. And seeing her like that—especially after the therapist session earlier that day—hit him harder than expected.
She’s stronger than she thinks.
She had gone out of her way to help someone she barely knew. And somehow, she’d managed to turn Demon Asma into… this.
Laughing. Relaxed.
As he raised a hand to wave, Asma noticed them first.
Her eyes widened instantly, snapping straight to Leif, who suddenly shoved his hands deeper into his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with them.
The tension that followed was immediate. Callum felt it settle over them like a storm cloud and, for once, he had absolutely no idea what to do with it.
More than ten years of friendship—and this? Uncharted territory. He didn’t know how to navigate it.
Not like Alejandra.
She turned, spotted them, waved brightly, and stood up in one smooth motion, already grabbing her coat.
“We’re leaving you two to it,” she said with a wide, almost mischievous smile.
Asma looked like she might actually commit murder.
“Alejandra…” she hissed under her breath.
“You two need to figure out whatever is going on,” Alejandra continued, unfazed, squeezing Asma’s hand. “It’s been too long.” There was something softer in her voice now. “Give yourself some grace.”
Asma’s expression shifted, just slightly. The sharpness faded, replaced by something more vulnerable. And then, slowly, she nodded.
Callum blinked.
How the hell did she do that?
Tame Asma in under two hours? Unbelievable.
He nudged Leif forward, practically pushing him into the booth, as Alejandra appeared by his side.
“We’re going for a stroll,” she said, looking up at him with that easy smile. “Have fun!”
She waved one last time, grabbed his arm, and after quickly paying the waitress, pulled him out of the pub before he could even protest. The door shut behind them, the noise fading into the background.
“What if I wanted a pint?”
“We can have it somewhere else,” she shot back, already leading him down the street.
“So, how did you do it?”
“What?”
They walked in the opposite direction of his apartment, hand in hand, the cool April air brushing against their faces. There was something softer about it now, spring settling in, summer just around the corner.
And for the first time in a while, the idea of the next three months didn’t feel terrifying. It felt… right.
“Tame Asma.”
Alejandra shrugged lightly. “She just needed to talk. And confess.”
“Can I know what happened?” he pressed, curiosity eating him alive.
She nodded solemnly. “She gave me permission to tell you. Ready to be shocked?”
Thank fuck.
“Hit me.”
“Asma has had feelings for Leif for the past five years,” she said casually, like she wasn’t dropping a fucking bomb, “but she made a promise to herself to never fall in love with either of you. For Lamina. So… she’s been avoiding the truth. Even though it was pretty obvious.”
Callum stopped walking for half a second. His mouth literally fell open. His brain started replaying the last five years like a fucking highlight reel.
Five years. Before Vanessa and him broke up. Before everything. Back when Lamina was just an idea in a cramped apartment.
“What the fuck?” was all he managed. “Why would she do that?”
Alejandra shrugged, but her expression shifted slightly, her smile fading just a bit. “I understand her.”
That made him look at her again.
“That’s exactly what I was doing with you,” she admitted quietly. “Pushing you away. The no-contact bullshit. I wanted to focus on my career. On my medals.” She exhaled. “So yeah… I get it.”
Callum nodded slowly, processing. “Do you think it would’ve been different between us… if you hadn’t had the accident?”
Her lips pressed together.
A pause.
“We’ll never know,” she said softly. “I’d love to tell you we would’ve found our way to each other anyway… but I know my past self.” She looked up at him, eyes slightly glossy. “Those medals meant more to her than love.” A beat. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” he said gently, stopping her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “It’s okay.” And he meant it. “I was an athlete too. I get it. The sacrifices… they’re not small.” His voice softened. “And as a woman? I can’t even imagine how much harder it was for you to be taken seriously.”
Alejandra took a deep breath, like she needed it to steady everything inside her before the words came rushing out.
“My entire family has depended on me since I was young to make money. At first, my papá kept working during the summer season in Cádiz, where people came for vacation, and then during the rest of the year, he traveled with us. Mom used to give Spanish classes when we were in a place for a long time, and somehow, when the first sponsorships came, they were very good.”
She paused briefly, then kept going, the words gaining speed.
“Both Carlos and I, at first, and then he decided to stop competing to train me when the time came, when our ex-trainer had to retire. And since then, seeing all the sacrifices they’ve done for me, I couldn’t risk anything, not even to feel something for someone.”
Her voice softened just a fraction, but the intensity didn’t.
“I had relationships, but all with other surfers who traveled with us. It was way easier than dealing with a long-distance relationship while I was competing. I needed my mind in the game, always… and it’s because of my family.”
Her eyes flickered up to his, searching, almost pleading for him to understand.
“If I don’t keep the sponsorships, if I don’t return to surf…
I don’t want Carlos to find another surfer, or my parents to have to go back to work since they are both in their late sixties…
but retirement in Spain is not that easy, so that’s why I bought the house in Conil, to use it, to rent it, to have it as an investment.
And with the Olympic money, and the other medals’ money, I could put them aside, as I’ve done, and always be there to help them… ”
Her words kept spilling out, almost tripping over each other, like if she stopped, everything would collapse.
Her gaze stayed locked on his, desperate for something—understanding, reassurance, anything.
“That’s why I need to go back surfing, Callum. That’s why I can’t… I need to…”
“I understand,” he said softly, cupping her cheeks, grounding her, forcing her to pause.
“And I’ll follow you. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I took three sabbatical months.”
Alejandra blinked, then shook her head quickly, almost flustered.
“Again. I was talking about me when—Gosh, I’m so self-centered, I’m obnoxious, how can you be attracted to me?
” She stopped herself mid-spiral, groaning.
“No, wait, don’t answer that. Just—let’s go inside this pub and you tell me everything about why you ended up in burnout. ”
He chuckled under his breath as Alejandra quite literally dragged him into yet another pub, where the Arsenal match was going strong, the noise of cheering and commentary filling the space.
They found a booth in a corner, far enough from the chaos to have some privacy, the dim lighting casting a softer glow over them.
The waitress came right away, and he ordered two pints and some French fries.
Alejandra leaned forward slightly, her elbows brushing the table.
“Tell me everything, please.”
“First of all,” he started, looking at her with a small, amused smile, “I don’t think you are obnoxious, by any means.
I understand what you are going through, and it makes you more human.
” He smirked at her scowl. “You are this top athlete that has reached an Olympic gold, and it’s good to see you have flaws and fears too. I like finding that out about you.”
Alejandra blushed slightly, clearly not used to that kind of honesty, but she motioned for him to continue.
“And second… I—the story is not that interesting.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”