The Future Conversation
St. Albans — February 2025
Leah hated packing days.
Not because of the suitcases.
Because packing meant endings.
Even temporary ones.
The apartment looked half-lived-in again. Clothes folded across the bed. Elle's skincare slowly disappearing from the bathroom. Her charger missing from Leah's bedside table for the first time in weeks.
Evidence of leaving.
Leah sat quietly at the edge of the bed watching Elle zip another suitcase.
"You're doing the face."
"What face?"
"The emotionally devastated Victorian wife face."
"That feels targeted."
"It's accurate."
Rude.
Very rude.
But unfortunately true.
The last six weeks had changed something permanently between them.
London stopped being temporary.
They'd figured out routines. Fought over takeaway choices. Fallen asleep on opposite sides of the sofa during bad television.
Real life.
And now suddenly the idea of Elle returning full-time to New York felt heavier than either expected.
Not impossible.
Just harder.
Because now they knew exactly what they were missing.
"You know what's annoying?" Leah murmured eventually.
"What?"
"I got used to this."
The softness in her voice settled instantly between them.
Because Elle had too.
Waking up beside Leah.
Hearing piano music drifting through the flat late at night.
Training schedules pinned to the fridge beside modelling call sheets.
Two lives slowly learning how to exist together.
Elle walked toward her slowly then until she stood between Leah's knees.
"You know this isn't ending, right?"
Leah looked up at her immediately.
"I know."
And she did know.
That was the difference now.
No panic underneath the sadness.
Just distance.
Temporary distance.
Still—
Leah wrapped both arms around her waist instinctively like she physically needed grounding.
"I just hate airports."
Elle smiled softly running her fingers through Leah's hair.
"You'll be in New York in two weeks."
"Correct."
"And I'll be back in London next month."
Leah nodded once against her stomach.
Because they'd already decided.
No dramatic ultimatums.
No choosing careers or sacrifice.
Just effort.
Flights booked months ahead.
Alternating cities.
Making it work because neither wanted a version of life without the other inside it anymore.
"You know what Lia asked me yesterday?" Leah muttered.
"What?"
"She asked if we're one of those couples who accidentally move in together."
Elle laughed softly.
"She's not wrong."
Fair.
Very fair.
Silence settled around them for a moment after that.
Rain tapped gently against the apartment windows while evening darkened outside.
And underneath everything sat something bigger tonight.
Something both of them had been circling around for weeks now.
The future.
Not next month.
Years.
Leah looked strangely thoughtful suddenly.
Elle noticed immediately.
"What?"
Leah hesitated.
Interesting.
Because Leah Williamson rarely hesitated around football.
Only feelings.
"There's something I need to ask you."
The softness in her voice immediately changed the atmosphere.
Elle sat beside her on the bed now, knees brushing together.
"Okay..."
Leah looked down briefly at her hands before speaking again.
"You know when people talk about future stuff..."
Very vague.
Very emotionally English.
Elle smiled faintly already.
"Future stuff?"
Leah sighed softly.
"You know what I mean."
God.
Cute.
Very cute.
Leah rubbed awkwardly at the back of her neck.
"I just..." She paused briefly. "Kids matter to me."
Silence.
Real silence.
Not bad.
Just important.
Leah kept talking quietly now, eyes lowered toward the duvet.
"I don't mean now," she added quickly. "Obviously. I just—"
She laughed nervously under her breath.
"This conversation sounded easier in my head."
Elle's chest physically tightened.
Because there it was again.
Leah asking for something vulnerable like she was worried it might scare someone away.
"You want kids someday," Elle said softly.
Leah nodded once.
"Yeah."
Then quieter—
"Really badly actually."
God.
The honesty in it nearly undid her.
Because Leah looked almost embarrassed by how much she meant it.
"I think after football..." Leah smiled faintly to herself. "I want a noisy house."
The image landed softly between them.
A future.
Not abstract anymore.
Real enough for Leah to picture.
Elle reached for her hand gently.
"You know I can actually see that?"
Leah looked up immediately.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
And suddenly the tension left her shoulders all at once.
Like some hidden fear quietly dissolved.
Leah laughed softly under her breath before leaning forward, forehead resting against Elle's.
"I don't care where we live eventually," she admitted quietly. "London. New York. Somewhere else."
Her fingers tightened gently around hers.
"I just know I want you there."
The room went completely still.
Because somehow after all this time Leah still said devastating things accidentally.
Elle kissed her before she could spiral emotionally afterward.
Slow.
Certain.
Hands warm against Leah's jaw while the future settled softly around both of them.
Not frightening anymore.
Just unknown.
And maybe that was okay now.
When they finally pulled apart Leah stayed close, noses brushing lightly together.
Then softly—
"We'll keep flying back and forth?"
Elle smiled instantly.
"Until we don't have to anymore."
And somewhere inside a quiet apartment in St. Albans while half-packed suitcases waited by the door, both women quietly realised the same thing:
this was no longer a relationship they hoped would survive the future.
Now they were actively building one.