Morning Light
New York City — The Next Morning
Leah woke up before Elle did.
For a few seconds she stayed completely still staring at the ceiling while soft grey morning light spilled through the apartment windows.
And immediately the weight of last night settled back into her chest.
The fight.
Grace.
The hurt in Elle's voice.
You really hurt me.
God.
Leah closed her eyes briefly.
Because that part wouldn't leave her alone.
Not the kiss itself.
The fact Elle genuinely thought she'd emotionally abandoned her.
And worse?
Maybe she had.
Beside her, Elle slept curled toward the opposite side of the bed now.
Not far away.
But not tucked into Leah like usual either.
That tiny distance hurt more than Leah expected.
She lay there for another minute before quietly slipping out of bed.
The apartment stayed silent except for rain still tapping softly against the windows.
New York looked washed silver outside.
Leah stood at the kitchen counter making coffee badly while emotionally spiralling in complete silence.
Classic behaviour.
Because now that the panic of losing Elle had pushed her across the Atlantic, reality was setting in properly.
Love alone didn't fix things.
Trust took work.
Communication took work.
And Leah had been terrible at both lately.
"You're stomping around dramatically."
Leah turned immediately at Elle's sleepy voice from the hallway.
Oversized hoodie.
Messy curls.
Still beautiful enough to ruin Leah's emotional stability completely.
"Sorry," Leah murmured quietly.
Elle walked slowly into the kitchen before stopping beside her.
The tension still lingered.
Not explosive.
Just fragile.
And suddenly Leah realised something terrifying:
she didn't know how to do this part.
Conflict.
Repair.
Healthy emotional communication.
Football taught her how to lead teams through pressure.
Nobody taught her how to stay emotionally present when she was hurting.
Elle leaned against the counter beside her.
"You didn't sleep much."
Neither accusation nor concern.
Just observation.
Leah looked down at the coffee cup in her hands.
"No."
Silence settled softly again.
Then quietly—
"I meant what I said last night."
Elle looked at her carefully.
"About what?"
Leah swallowed once.
"Shutting you out."
Her voice stayed low now.
Honest.
"I do that when things get bad."
Elle didn't interrupt.
So Leah kept going.
"After the ACL... I got very good at pretending I was fine."
The words felt uncomfortable leaving her chest.
Like rusted hinges finally moving.
"And Australia just made all of that worse again."
Rain slid slowly down the apartment windows behind them.
Leah looked exhausted suddenly.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
"I think part of me believed if I let you see how bad it got in my head, you'd stop loving me."
The confession cracked something open between them instantly.
Because there it was.
The real fear underneath all of it.
Not Grace.
Not distance.
Abandonment.
Elle's face softened immediately.
"Leah."
"No, I know it sounds ridiculous."
"It doesn't."
That made Leah finally look up.
And suddenly Elle's own eyes looked glassy too.
"You know what hurt most?" Elle whispered softly.
Leah stayed still.
"That you decided for me."
Silence.
"You didn't even give me the chance to stay beside you through it."
God.
That landed directly in Leah's chest.
Because she was right again.
Leah had spent weeks trying to protect Elle from her sadness instead of trusting her enough to hold it with her.
"I'm sorry," Leah whispered.
And this time it sounded different.
Not rushed.
Not defensive.
Real.
Elle stepped closer slowly until they stood only inches apart.
"You don't have to be okay all the time for me to love you."
Leah physically looked away for a second because emotion hit too hard too fast.
Hopeless.
Absolutely hopeless.
"You make that sound very easy," she murmured weakly.
Elle smiled sadly. "It's not easy."
That surprised Leah slightly.
Because Elle always seemed so emotionally steady.
So sure.
"I was angry," Elle admitted quietly. "Last night too."
Leah nodded once. "I know."
"And part of me wanted to scream at you."
"Fair."
That earned the smallest smile at least.
"But mostly," Elle continued softly, "I was scared."
Leah frowned slightly. "Of what?"
"That you were slipping away from me."
The honesty in it knocked the breath from Leah's lungs.
Because somehow through all her own grief, she hadn't fully understood that Elle had been grieving too.
Not football.
Her.
Leah stepped forward instinctively then, hands finding Elle's waist carefully.
Not assuming.
Asking.
When Elle didn't pull away, Leah exhaled shakily.
"I don't want anyone else," she whispered softly.
The words hung between them heavily.
Certain.
"I know," Elle whispered back.
And somehow that mattered more than anything.
Not because the problem disappeared.
Because they were finally standing inside it together instead of alone.
Leah rested her forehead lightly against Elle's and closed her eyes briefly.
Outside, New York rain kept falling softly against the glass while the city slowly woke beneath grey skies.
And for the first time in weeks, Leah stopped feeling like she was drowning by herself.