all to play for
LONDON IN THE SPRING BY PASSENGER
It’s so quiet at work this morning. I think everyone is on pins and needles for the match next weekend.
If we win, we’re promoted, and Rockford will join the best of the best in the top tier of English football.
I’ll have completed my job. The job I came here to do.
The job I promised myself would be temporary.
I’m sitting at my desk, staring blankly at a press release that needs editing. I can’t focus. My brain is somewhere else and has been all day.
Sitting on the corner of my desk is the invitation for tonight's end-of-season awards party. It taunts me, daring me to make a move. I don’t have a dress for it. I haven’t even decided if I’m going.
I should go, simply because it’s a work event and I’m a professional. It’s expected that I will be there.
But there’s another part of me that’s already started stepping back. Quietly. Carefully. Like if I create enough distance now, it won’t hurt as much later.
I pack up my bag for the day, hoping to slip out of the building unnoticed. I step out of the elevator and nearly run straight into him.
Oliver.
Of course.
Because the universe is cruel.
He looks like he always does—hair messy from training, eyes soft the moment they find mine.
“Hey,” he says, smiling. “Leaving?”
“Yeah, I… have some errands to run,” I mumble, hugging my bag tightly to my chest like it’s some physical barrier.
He doesn’t move.
“Are you coming tonight?” he asks. “To the awards party?”
His tone is easy, but I can hear the hope behind it. He almost sounds nervous, like he’s asking me to prom.
I try to smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “Not sure.”
Oliver tilts his head slightly. “You’re not sure?”
I nod, focusing on the floor between us. “It’s been a long week. I might just stay in. I need to finish packing.”
I don’t even need to look up to know I’ve hurt him. I can just feel his gaze sharpen. I don’t let myself look up to meet it. If I do, I’ll unravel.
“Packing,” he repeats quietly.
I nod. “There’s only one match left, barring a loss that takes us into the playoffs. I figured I should get a head start.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and when he finally speaks, his voice is tight. “You’re really going to go?”
The tone of his voice hits me harder than I expect. I can feel it softening my walls, so I crush it fast, because hope is dangerous.
“I have to,” I say, forcing the words out flatly. “That was always the plan.”
That’s not entirely true.
I don’t tell him it’s killing me to go. I don’t say I wish I could stay. I don’t ask him to give me a reason not to leave. Because if I say any of that, I’ll fall apart. And if he doesn’t say it back, I don’t think I could survive it.
“Addison,” Oliver whispers. His eyes hold mine, and for a second everything in him looks unguarded. Almost exposed. Almost like he’s about to say something that would change everything.
“I should get going,” I say quickly, stepping back before I can read it wrong. Before I can hope. “Good luck tonight.”
He doesn’t say anything.
I don’t look back.
“Which one, love?” Pippa asks, holding up two dresses, one in each hand.
We met after work today to shop for dresses for the end-of- season awards party tonight. I’m not even sure I’m going to go to the party, but I need to find something to wear just in case.
I’ve been trying not to think about Oliver. Trying and failing in equal measure.
“Addison,” Pippa says, grabbing my attention. “Which one?”
I glance between the dresses. “Um… the red one?” I say, pointing to her left hand.
“I think so too,” she says, putting the gray one in her right hand back on the rack. “I think it’s perfect.”
She tosses the red dress over her arm and starts looking for some matching shoes.
“So,” she adds casually, “how’s Oliver?”
I hesitate, pretending to thumb through a rack of dresses to avoid eye contact. “It’s… fine,” I say. “Fine. We’re fine.”
“So, you’re fine then?” Pippa teases. “What’s going on with you?”
I sigh, shoulders slumping. “The club offered me a new contract.”
Her eyes light up, sparkling with excitement. “They want you to stay? Permanently?”
“Yeah,” I say quickly, almost defensively. “Alan told me to think about it, but I’m going to turn it down.”
Pippa’s mouth falls open, like I’ve told her there’s no Santa Claus. “Addison. Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” I wave a hand like it’s obvious. “I made rules, Pips. You know that. One year. No strings. No feelings. I came here to finally step out on my own, not—”
“Oh, fuck your rules,” Pippa says, loud enough that the woman at the next rack glances over, clutching her metaphorical pearls.
“Pippa,” I whisper, mortified.
“No, no,” she insists, shaking her head.
She lowers her voice, but not her conviction.
“Listen to me, love. I love you, but no. You made them because of Matt. You made them when you thought loving someone meant tolerating bullshit. Oliver is not Matt. He’s nothing like him.
Don’t punish him—and yourself—for things Matt did. ”
I swallow hard, Pippa’s words hitting me where I’m most fragile.
“Pippa, I—”
“You’re scared,” she cuts me off, voice softer now.
“And that’s okay. Being scared is a part of life.
But it’s not okay to run, Addison. You don’t deserve to run from it.
You deserve to be happy.” I blink fast, fighting back the tears forming in my eyes.
“If you really want to leave, then fine. I’ll drive you to the airport myself and cry the whole way.
I’ll hug you, and wish you well wherever your journey takes you.
But if you let your fear make this decision for you?
Then Addison, you’re not the girl I thought you were. ”
I bite my lip. “But what if he doesn’t feel the same way?”
“Addison,” Pippa says, sighing. “First of all, you are not some princess in a tower that needs saving. You already saved yourself. Now you get to choose. If you want to stay, make a bloody move. Don’t wait for him to ask you. You can make this choice for yourself, man included or not.”
The knot in my chest tightens. I’ve been ignoring it for weeks, months maybe.
I’ve been pretending everything is fine, that leaving was always part of the plan.
I’ve let myself believe it wouldn’t hurt anyone.
But now, I can admit to myself, I’m standing on the edge of a cliff and I’ve just been too afraid to jump.
Pippa’s right. Of course she is.
I made my rules to protect myself. After everything Matt put me through, I thought I needed something to cling to, something that made me unbreakable.
But Oliver has never asked me for more. He’s never pressured me, never tried to own me the way Matt did.
Maybe he’s never told me how he feels. And maybe he’s never asked me to stay.
But I know how I feel. I feel it in every look, every touch, every moment we’ve shared.
I’m hopelessly, completely, terrifyingly in love with Oliver Bradshaw.
It sneaks up on me, the realization slipping in as naturally as air filling my lungs. And it’s not just about Oliver. Though, god, he’s the center of it. It’s this city. These people.
I’ve been living half in the past, looking over my shoulder, bracing for the worst. And all the while, without me even noticing, this place became mine. He became mine.
This isn’t temporary. It’s home.
I thumb through the rack of dresses before grabbing two of them. I hold them up, one in each hand—a sleek black one and a strappy blue one—and turn to Pippa with a coy smile.
“Okay,” I say, trying to hold my voice steady even though my heart feels like it might actually burst. “Which one says, ‘Hey Captain, I love you’ more?”
Pippa’s jaw drops so hard I can hear it land on the floor with a thud.
“Oh my god!” she shrieks, launching herself toward me. “Addison! I knew you had feelings, but I didn’t realize you were in love. This is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. I’m going to cry. I’m actually going to cry.”
I laugh, half embarrassed, half floating. “Pippa. Focus. Dress.”
She points decisively at the blue one. “That one. It’s romantic and gorgeous. There’s no way he’s letting you leave wearing that one.”
I hold the blue dress up against me, looking in the mirror, and for once I don’t second-guess myself. I don’t feel scared.
I'm in love with Oliver Bradshaw.
And I’m ready.