29. Robbie
ROBBIE
By the time I’ve finished in the shower and let my body temperature return to a reasonable cool instead of oh-my-god-I’m-burning-from-the-inside-out, I’m ready to return to the girl I left in my room.
A towel firmly wrapped around my hips, I cross to my bedroom door and gently knock.
No answer.
I push the door open, but all I find is my bed stripped, the sheets in a heap on the floor, and no Cassie in sight. I cross the carpeted floor and pull back the curtains as if she’s playing a trick on me and is hiding pressed up against the glass.
My heart pounds in my chest as dread starts to curdle in my gut. No.
No.
I take the stairs two at a time, my bare feet silent on the carpet. I race back to the sofa where I’ve been storing my bags and tug out my clothes, yanking them on furiously before throwing my towel over my shoulder.
By the time I’ve made it to the kitchen, there are three people in there and none of them are the one I’m looking for.
“Where’s Cassie?” My voice comes out breathless and from the stern look in my mother’s eye, I already know the answer.
Iwan leans back in his chair.
“She’s—”
Gwen slaps her arm across his chest. “Shut up, Iw.”
“What’s going on?”
They all look away from me. My mother clatters around the kitchen, gently moving clean plates and wiping the spotless surfaces.
“Mum?”
“Cassie left,” Gwen tells me firmly.
“Left?” My eyebrows rise. “Left how?”
“She had a car waiting.”
How long was I in the bloody shower?
“Why—” I swallow my question. I know why.
She left because of that look in her eye. Her body language when she refused to look at me.
I fucked up.
I just wish I knew what I did.
“Where did she go?”
“Back to America,” Gwen tells me, lifting her chin. Iwan turns his head to her, something passing between my brother and his wife that only a couple who’s been together as long as they have can communicate.
“The children will be back soon,” Mum says, not even looking at me. “Let’s get these snacks ready for them.”
Gwen shoots me a final glare before rising to her feet and helping my mother.
Iwan gestures with his head, and I follow him back to the living room. He perches on the edge of the armchair and waits while I take a seat on last night’s bed, obviously unslept in.
I can’t believe that less than an hour ago, I woke up with Cassie’s body wrapped so tightly around mine I’d sleep forever just to stay with her, and now she’s gone.
“How was your run?” Iwan asks.
“Huh?”
He raises an eyebrow expectantly.
“Oh yeah, it was fine.”
“Look, I don’t know what happened, but Cassie was out of here like a rocket before you even stopped running the water. I don’t know what you did, but I’m going to have to explain to my children that their new favorite person disappeared without a goodbye.”
I grit my teeth, suddenly furious at the thought of Ffion and Sammy’s sad little faces when they get home.
Why would she do this? Leave without saying anything?
I bring her into my house, introduce her to my family, make them fall in love with her, and this is what we get in return?
Any disappointment I feel gets swallowed up by rage. In a second, I’ve jumped to my feet and pulled my running shoes onto my feet.
“I’m going for a run,” I throw over my shoulder at my brother as I cross to the backdoor.
“I thought you just went?” he calls.
I don’t reply as I take off at speed. My feet eat the pavement as I run along the tree-lined streets. I have no headphones, no direction. I took off without even a simple warm up, but I’m too aggravated to stop.
How dare she? I was ready to go into that room and apologize for taking things too far, for blurring the already see through lines, and she just took off? Without even a goodbye?
I see my dad’s car gliding down the street up ahead and turn onto a side street without a second thought. I can’t bear the thought of them waving as they pass me by, or god forbid, stopping to talk to me.
I run and I run, until my thighs burn and my muscles protest from not warming up.
There’s a voice in the back of my mind telling me I’m going too far, pushing too hard.
This isn’t the regimented structure I live by, this isn’t the organized strain I put my body through to keep me at peak performance.
This is chaos, this is running to keep my mind empty of any thoughts of the girl I fundamentally cannot have.
The girl who would jeopardize my career if her father ever found out what just happened in my bedroom.
I don’t stop.
I keep going and going, my thighs trembling and my hamstrings tight.
I remember the agonizing flare of pain that knocked me down three years ago, the snap that I felt in my leg when it collapsed underneath me.
The feel of the astroturf under my forehead as I rolled onto my front, curled up in a ball in front of forty thousand people.
There’s a tingle in my leg, a reminder of the dainty control I have on my health, and I almost want it to snap again. I want this to be over. There’d be no more consequences, no more risk, just done.
I turn the corner, and my pace finally slows. The community centre ahead is desolate, the astroturf worn down, and the goal posts nicked and weathered. The lines are faded, but I make it to half way before my feet stop completely.
My hands come to my hips as I take a shuddering breath.
It’s seven miles from my house to here, the football club where I used to play.
Dad used to drop me and Iwan off here for practice, and then he’d stand by the sidelines all day and watch us.
The rain would be hammering, accompanied by a bitter cold wind that would freeze me in my boots, but he’d just stand there. As unmoving as a mountain.
There’s a fresh breeze in the air so unlike the cloying heat from yesterday’s heatwave, and nothing like the unyielding heat in California. The sweat cools on my skin.
There’s a ruckus from the direction of the entrance, and I can see cars parked out the front.
A practice must be starting soon. Unwilling to start the trek back home, I climb the stands and sit on the home bench where my dad used to sit.
The parents start to fill in, filtering around me.
Some give me odd looks–as they should, considering I do not belong to any of the children running onto the pitch in their football boots.
“There you are,” a voice says from behind me, and I let my head drop as my dad falls into the seat beside me.
“How’d you know I was here?”
“Well, my first clue was watching you run full pelt down Llewellyn Road. And the second was Rhodri texted me.” Dad waves his hand in hello to Rhodri, the same coach that’s been here for the last thirty years.
Rhodri returns his wave before turning his attention to the group of eleven year olds lining up in front of him.
“What’s up, bach?” Dad asks softly, the term of endearment one that he only ever pulls out when I need his help.
I shrug, sitting back in my seat and rubbing my hands across my head. “Cassie left.”
Dad keeps his attention on the pitch. “I heard. We all like her. She’s good for you.”
“We’re not together, Dad.”
“Neither are your mother and I.” He shrugs. “We’re just friends.”
I can’t help my snort.
“Why did she leave?”
I shrug, more than unwilling to admit any of what happened this morning before she left.
We sit in silence for a while, watching the kids play.
“You know, I sat here with your mother when Rhodri told us that a scout was coming up. Your Mum and I knew that you were something special. We knew that you’d need more than what we could give you.
We hated leaving you at the Academy but once you were there,” he squeezes his hands together, “We watched you soar. I’ve always been proud of you, son.
You’ve taken your gift and you’ve made something of yourself. ”
The words cause my stomach to twist.
“But you need to have a life too,” Dad tells me, turning in his seat to look at me.
“We followed you to your matches, watched every single one, even if we couldn’t be there in person, even when we missed you like hell.
But when you got injured, you closed yourself off so thoroughly, and we knew we’d gone wrong somewhere.
Maybe we pushed you too much, made football the only thing in your life, so when it was taken from you like that, you had nothing left.
There’s so much life to live, Robbie. So many things to experience.
Spending time with your family, starting a new one.
Football isn’t forever. You have to have something else to hold onto when it’s gone. ”
Didn’t Cassie say the same thing on the beach yesterday?
Hasn’t she been encouraging me to find something to find some joy in life that’s not just football?
The last few days at home have felt different than ever before.
It’s not just being with the family that I’ve finally started to reconnect with after all these years, it’s the girl who slotted right in beside me as if she was always meant to be a part of it too.
Instead of outsiders, we have been our own team.
This brief interlude is done now, she’s gone, and even when I see her again the cold hard facts won’t have changed just because she spent a few days sleeping in my bed.
I duck my head as the reality sinks in. “Her father is the owner.”
“Yeah.”
I side-eye him. “I’d be off the team if he ever found out.”
“Would you?”
“I haven’t read the contract, Dad, but I’m pretty sure there’s a line in there about dating the owner’s daughter.”
“Is she worth it?”
Laughter as the referee blows the whistle pulls my attention back to the pitch. All the children are cheering, cheeks red with exertion, and wide grins spread across their faces. That’s how I used to feel. That’s how I feel playing with Sammy.
Is she worth it?
I stand up. “Did you drive?”
Dad fishes his keys out of his pocket.
“Let’s go.”