between fixtures
WHAT IF BY TADHG DALY
I stare at the ceiling from the physio table in Luke’s office, just counting the tiles like they could distract me from the whirlwind inside my head. Normally Luke and I chat during these sessions, but today it’s dead silent.
“You’re quiet today, mate,” he says, pulling on my knee.
“A lot on my mind,” I mutter.
“Promotion?”
“Yeah.”
The season is winding down fast. Just a few matches left now. Promotion is dangling in front of us. It’s the kind of thing I dreamed about as a kid. And yet, that’s not all this is. Every match we win, every point we earn is just a reminder. If we win—if we go up—Addison’s gone.
That was her deal. One year only. Come in, build the brand, and then head off to the next project.
“Oi,” Luke says, tapping me on the leg. “Where’d you just go?”
“What? Nowhere,” I mutter.
He tilts his head, giving me a look like he’s not buying it for a second.
“You thinking about Addison?”
I blink, sitting up on the table. “What are you on about?”
He leans back against the wall, crossing his arms. “Mate, I know.”
For a moment, I don’t know whether to laugh or deny.
I raise an eyebrow, settling on trying to play it cool. “Know what?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Luke says, an amused smirk curling at the corners of his lips. “I’m not blind, mate. You’re not fooling me.”
I blink, still caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
“Listen,” he says, stepping closer like we’re having some kind of heart-to-heart.
“That girl’s my best mate, alright? She’s the closest thing I’ve got to a sister.
I know what’s going on with her when she doesn’t even say a word.
And you know what? I’ve known you for years now, and I could say the same about you. You’ve been… different lately.”
“Different?”
“You’ve smiled more lately than you have in your entire life,” Luke says, his tone unshaken. “Coincidentally, it all started in October. Started with some devilish smirks and eye rolls, but smiles nonetheless. And who showed up here in October, I wonder?”
I let out a short, nervous laugh. “You might be reading too much into it, mate.”
He shakes his head, like I’m the last person to get the joke. “I see the way you look at her. The way you act around her. I notice when you both slip away, one after the other. Ol, it’s written all over your face.”
My throat tightens for a second. “I—”
“I know,” he interrupts, softer now. “It’s complicated, right? Addison’s got her rules. She’s leaving anyway. I get it.”
“You do?”
Luke stares at me for a long moment. “I do. Trust me. I’ve known for months. Just been waiting for one of you to say something. She finally told me after the gala.”
Finally, I let out a breath and rub my hand over my face. “Fine,” I mutter. “We’ve… we’ve been seeing each other.”
Luke grins like he’s just won some massive bet. “Yeah, you have.”
“But,” I add quickly, before he can get carried away, “it’s just until the end of the season. No expectations. That’s the deal.” The words taste like shit coming out of my mouth.
Luke’s smile drops into something more serious. “Her idea, right?”
I nod once. “How’d you know that?”
Luke shrugs. “She’s got those ridiculous rules. Don’t get me wrong, I get why she made them. Matt’s a fucking twat. But I worry those rules will stop her from living the next big thing.”
“Me too,” I admit.
Luke’s eyes narrow a little, reading me in a way I’m not used to. “You don’t sound like you’re very happy with the arrangement,” he says.
“I’m not,” I confess, the truth pressing against my ribs. “I don’t want her to leave. I don’t want to hide.”
Luke leans in slightly. “And why is that?”
I feel the answer clawing up my throat, terrifying and inevitable. I close my eyes for a second, letting it settle into place because I think it’s been there all along.
“Because I’m in love with her,” I say quietly.
The words leave my mouth, and everything just clicks. Every fear, every rule, every doubt just fades away.
Luke nods and smiles, like he knew it before I did. “Oh, you’re fucked, mate,” he says, chuckling.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit, voice breaking slightly.
“You have to tell her,” he says.
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why? Because of her rules? She made those rules before she even met you, mate.”
“But what if she doesn’t…” I can’t even say it. I can’t even let myself believe she could.
“What if she doesn’t feel the same?” Luke asks, completing my thought. I nod slowly, and his expression softens. “I’ve known Addison for a really long time. I’ve never seen her like this. There’s nothing casual about her. She’s just scared.”
I sit on the floor of my apartment, legs crossed, a half-packed box at my side. All my possessions are organized into stacks on the floor, reminders of the life I’m leaving behind.
I glance down at a stack of photographs and the souvenirs from my day in London with Oliver.
Last year, I was sitting on the floor of the apartment I shared with Matt, packing up my life in a different city, in a different state of mind.
I remember the silence in my life there, and how empty I felt when I was leaving it.
Now, the emptiness feels different. It’s not frantic or desperate this time. It’s hollow, a quiet ache that settles into my chest and won’t move.
When I left Matt, I was so broken. But I was so hopeful, because every step away from him was a step I took toward myself. This time, I’m not broken. I’m just sad.
My phone vibrates against the floorboards, and I glance down to see Mom’s name flashing across the screen.
“Hey, you!” Mom’s voice is bright and warm, a little too sunny for the mood I’m in. “How’s the packing going? Almost all set?”
“Hey,” I say, my voice quiet. “Yeah… I’m getting there.”
“I can’t wait to see you,” she says, excitement threading through her words. “Just a few more days!”
I nod. “Mmhmm.”
Mom’s smile falters. “Addison? You don’t seem okay.”
I force a small laugh. “I’m just tired, Mom. There’s a lot to do.”
“Honey,” she says gently. “I can see it. You’re sad.”
I shrug. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” she presses. “I know you, Addison. You can tell me anything.”
“What do you—”
“Do you want to stay?” she cuts in, point-blank.
I blink, staring down at the half-packed box in front of me. My chest tightens. “Mom… you know the rules,” I murmur, almost pleading. “Just for the season. That was the deal.”
“Honey, take the rules out of it,” she says, patient but firm. “Screw what everyone expects of you. What do you want?”
I swallow hard, looking at the scattered photos and trinkets around me, at the apartment that’s been mine since October. My chest rises and falls in a way I can’t control.
“I… I don’t know,” I admit finally.
“Addison,” Mom says softly, like she’s right there with me, a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You don’t need a plan or a rule to tell you what you want. Just… tell me what your heart says.”
I bite my lip, the answer clawing at me, but everything feels tangled and impossible. “It’s… complicated,” I whisper, the words barely audible even to myself.
“I know,” she says with quiet understanding.
“And that’s okay. It’s not an easy choice to make.
But don’t let your rules make the choice for you.
If you’re ready to move on, then I’ll be at the airport waiting for you.
If you want to chase a new dream over there, I’ll hop on the next flight to come see you.
Just… think about what you actually want, honey. ”
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too, Addison. Always.”
"No matter what."
"No matter where," she adds, voice soft but firm.
I hang up, set my phone back on the floor, and stare at the mess of my life around me.
I can leave, walk away like I always planned. That’s the safe option. It’s clean, predictable. But is that living or is it just hiding?
But then staying… that feels like stepping off a cliff.
The idea of putting my heart on the line, of risking everything when I’ve spent so long building walls, is terrifying.
The truth is, I don’t know what’s holding me back more—the fear of leaving, or the fear of wanting something I’m not sure I’m allowed to have.