Almosts
St. Albans — 1:14am
The rain had gotten heavier outside.
It streaked against the apartment windows in silver lines while the television eventually timed out into silence, leaving only soft music from Leah's speaker filling the room.
Elle lay curled against Leah's chest beneath a blanket, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles against Leah's stomach through the fabric of her hoodie.
Comfortable.
Warm.
Dangerously intimate.
Leah stared at the ceiling for a long moment before speaking quietly.
"I need to tell you something properly."
Elle looked up immediately.
Not alarmed.
Just attentive.
Leah always sounded different when something genuinely mattered.
"What is it?"
Leah exhaled slowly through her nose.
And Elle felt her body tense slightly beneath her.
Interesting.
Because Leah Williamson — England captain, media-trained beyond belief, emotionally composed to a fault — rarely looked nervous anymore around her.
Which meant this mattered.
"A lot of people think Grace and I were together," Leah said quietly.
There it was.
The thing hanging silently between them ever since that first awkward moment in the apartment doorway.
Elle stayed still.
Leah looked down briefly before continuing.
"We weren't."
"I know."
"No," Leah said softly. "I need you to actually know."
The seriousness in her voice made Elle's chest tighten slightly.
Leah shifted carefully until they were facing each other properly on the sofa now.
Close enough their knees tangled together beneath the blanket.
"Grace was there during the worst part of my life," Leah admitted quietly.
And instantly Elle understood this wasn't really about rumours.
This was about guilt.
About history.
About almosts.
Leah rubbed tiredly at her jaw before speaking again.
"After my ACL... I was awful."
Elle's expression softened immediately.
Because even now, months later, Leah's voice changed slightly talking about it.
Quieter.
More fragile.
"I know people saw the rehab posts and interviews and all that," Leah continued softly, "but they didn't see what it was actually like."
Elle reached for her hand instinctively.
Leah squeezed it once before continuing.
"There were days I couldn't get out of bed properly because I was so scared I'd never come back the same."
The honesty of it landed heavily.
"Grace saw all of that," Leah admitted. "Every ugly part."
Late-night panic attacks.
Crying in physio rooms after setbacks.
The exhaustion.
The identity crisis that came when football — the thing Leah built her entire life around — suddenly felt uncertain.
"She stayed through all of it," Leah said quietly. "When honestly I wasn't easy to stay around."
Elle's heart ached slightly listening to her.
Because Leah said things like that so matter-of-factly sometimes, like she genuinely believed being broken made her difficult to love.
"And I think..." Leah hesitated briefly. "Maybe Grace started hoping eventually I'd feel something more."
Silence settled softly between them.
Not dramatic.
Just sad in that painfully adult way where nobody really did anything wrong but someone still got hurt anyway.
Elle looked down briefly at their intertwined hands.
"And did you?" she asked gently.
Leah answered immediately.
"No."
Not cruel.
Not uncertain.
Just honest.
"She's one of the most important people in my life," Leah admitted quietly. "But not like this."
Elle nodded slowly.
Because she believed her.
That wasn't the issue.
The issue was the guilt written all over Leah's face now.
"You feel bad."
Leah laughed softly under her breath. "Bit obvious?"
"You have very expressive eyes for someone emotionally repressed."
That earned a small smile at least.
Then quieter—
"I hate hurting people."
"I know."
Leah looked at her then.
Really looked at her.
"And I think that's part of why I got scared when this became real."
Elle frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
Leah's thumb brushed slowly across Elle's knuckles.
"You happened really fast."
The confession landed softly between them.
"You were suddenly everywhere. In my head. My routines. My life."
Her voice had gone quieter now.
"And after the ACL... after everything... I think part of me was terrified to need someone that much again."
God.
Elle's chest physically hurt hearing that.
Because underneath all of Leah's control was still this frightened version of herself trying desperately not to lose things she loved.
"You don't have to apologise for choosing me," Elle whispered softly.
Leah's expression broke slightly at that.
Not dramatically.
Just enough for Elle to see how deeply those words hit.
"She loved you," Elle said gently.
Leah looked down immediately.
"Maybe."
"And you loved her too," Elle continued softly. "Just differently."
Leah nodded once.
Rain continued against the windows while silence wrapped quietly around them.
Then Leah laughed faintly at herself.
"This is not very sexy girlfriend conversation."
Elle smiled softly and moved closer until their foreheads touched lightly.
"No," she whispered. "It's real though."
And somehow that felt infinitely more intimate.
Leah closed her eyes briefly.
Then quieter—
"I don't want you ever thinking you're temporary to me."
That nearly undid her completely.
Because there it was.
The actual fear beneath all of this.
Not Grace.
Not rumours.
Losing her.
Elle kissed her slowly before Leah could spiral any further into her own head.
Warm.
Certain.
When they finally pulled apart, Leah stayed close enough their noses still brushed slightly.
"You know what Grace said to me?" Leah murmured softly.
"What?"
"She said you got the version of me she waited years for."
Elle's heart tightened.
Leah smiled sadly.
"And maybe she's right."
Elle touched her face gently.
"No," she whispered. "I think I just met you after you survived something hard."
The room fell completely still after that.
Because Leah spent so long believing recovery made her weaker somehow.
But Elle looked at her like surviving had simply made her softer.
More open.
More capable of being loved properly.
And maybe for the first time since the ACL injury, Leah finally started believing that too.