stoppage time
HEY JUDE BY THE BEATLES
Addison walked out of the training facility and took every bit of sunlight with her. Everything feels dimmer. Even the way she looked at me, like she was already halfway gone. It’s like she’s already started saying goodbye and I didn’t even get a word in, or a say in it.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, rubbing at the back of my neck.
“You alright, mate?”
I glance up and find Luke leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed, watching me.
“No,” I admit, shaking my head. “What gave it away?”
“You look like you’ve been benched.” Luke steps toward me, offering a sad smile. “Pub?”
I hesitate, then nod. “Yeah.”
Ten minutes later, we’re at a booth in the back corner of a quiet pub, two pints between us. Luke doesn’t say anything at first. He just sips his beer and lets me sit in the silence.
“You can tell me,” he finally says, voice low. “Whatever’s going on with you. Whatever you’re feeling.”
I shake my head and stare into my glass. “Addison.”
“I figured.” There’s no surprise on his face, just a quiet sort of sympathy. “What happened?”
“She’s leaving.”
He nods slowly. “You knew that though, didn’t you, mate? You knew that months ago when you agreed to whatever arrangement the two of you made.”
“I know, but…”
“But what?”
“I thought she’d change her mind. But she’s… she’s pulling away. I can feel it. It’s like every day she’s a step further.”
I take a deep breath, but it doesn’t do anything to settle the knot in my chest. It feels like every part of her is retreating. She hardly even looks me in the eye anymore.
Luke watches me for a long moment. “Can I ask you something?”
I shoot him a look. “Are you going to ask even if I say no?”
“Probably.” Luke leans back, crossing his arms, watching me with a look on his face like he’s about to hold a mirror up and I’m not going to like what I see.
I sigh and nod. “Go on then.”
“Did you ever even ask her to stay?”
The words hit me square in the chest. I look away, fixing my gaze toward the bar.
“I wanted to,” I say quietly.
“That’s not what I asked, mate.”
I flick my gaze back to him, defensive. “What difference does it make?”
“It makes a huge difference,” Luke says, leaning forward now. “If you didn’t ask her to stay, then how the hell is she supposed to know you want her to?”
I sit there, mouth half open, unable to come up with a single intelligent response. I know he’s right. And I hate that he’s right. And I hate even more that I don’t have a good answer beyond the most simple one: I’m a coward.
“Jesus, Oliver,” Luke mutters, shaking his head. “You are one of the most stubborn, loyal, emotionally stupid people I’ve ever met.”
“Thanks, mate,” I say dryly.
“I’m serious,” he says, leaning in. “Do you want her to stay?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then fucking tell her that.”
“Tell her what, exactly? That I want her to throw away her plans and her rules? For what? The guy who can’t even do an interview without fucking it up? The guy who called her ‘no one special’ when he got nervous?”
Luke exhales, frustrated but still patient.
“Oliver, I know you’ve spent your whole life trying to carry everything alone.
You think none of us see it, but we do. You think being the captain means you have to be the strong one, that you can’t let anyone see when you’re hurting.
I know you think that’s how you’re supposed to be, but you don’t have to do that with her, or with any of us. ”
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You can start by letting people in,” Luke says slowly, like he’s patiently explaining this to a thick child.
“The team? Those lads train with you every day, bleed with you on every pitch. They care about you, not just as a player, but as a person. You don’t need to keep everyone at arm’s length to be a good captain.
” He takes a sip of his beer and smiles.
“And Addison? If you can’t see how she feels about you, then you’re dumber than I thought. ”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Luke is right.
I’ve spent months letting Addison think this thing between us was temporary.
I’ve never looked her in the eye and told her that this whole season, every match, every training session, every moment in between—it’s all meant more because she’s been in it with me.
I have to tell her. I’ve been so scared she might not feel the same way about me that I never even gave her the chance to choose. I’ve just been holding my breath, pretending it wouldn’t ruin me if she walked away.
But it will ruin me. Even promotion—the one thing I’ve worked for my entire career—would feel like a hollow prize if she’s not there.
For years now, promotion to the Premier League has been my goal.
It’s been a grueling climb. But what’s the point of climbing the mountain if the person you want to share the view with is gone?
I love football. For the longest time, nothing has ever been more important to me than being on a pitch. And for most of my life, football has been my strength, my solace, and my safety net.
Until her.
I can honestly say, without a shadow of a doubt, that I love Addison more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life.
“I’ve been a bloody idiot,” I mutter, pushing back from the table. I let out a breath that’s half a laugh, half a release of everything I’ve kept locked inside me. “Thanks, mate.”
A slow smile tugs at Luke’s mouth. “Oliver?”
“Yeah?” I say, glancing over my shoulder, halfway toward the door.
“Go get her, Captain.”
I nod, smiling while my heart thuds. I’m not nervous. Instead, I feel something dangerously close to hope. I’m done being afraid. I’m done hiding behind old wounds.
It’s time to tell Addison the truth.
And maybe she won’t feel the same, but I can’t spend the rest of my life wondering.
I knock on Addison’s door, feeling more nervous right now than I ever have on the pitch.
Nothing.
I knock again. Louder.
Still nothing.
Everything is quiet. I can’t hear movement in her flat, so I don’t think she’s in there and just avoiding me.
I knock one last time, and when there’s still no answer, I rest my forehead against the door as I contemplate my next move.
I check the time. Shit.
I’ve got to get back to my flat. The team awards are in less than two hours, and I need to shower, change, and show up with a smile like this whole season hasn’t cracked me wide open in ways I never imagined.
I have to let myself hope that she’ll turn up tonight, that something changed her mind, and she decides to come. I exhale slowly, forcing myself to turn around.
I’m halfway down the hall when I hear footsteps coming up toward the front entrance.
My heart thunders in my chest as I hope it’s Addison coming in, but the feeling quickly subsides when the door opens and her landlord, Jane, walks in clutching a canvas bag full of groceries and trashy tabloid magazines.
“Oliver, I didn’t see you there,” she says cheerfully.
“I was just looking for Addison,” I say, stepping aside so she can pass.
Jane has watched me come and go from Addison’s flat for months now, always smiling like she knows exactly what we’re up to.
She’s known our secret, but has never told anyone, even though the tabloids in her arms would pay good money for it.
Her face softens instantly. “Oh, she left a few hours ago, love.”
My breath catches. “She left?”
“Mmm, yes.” Jane nods. “Said she had some things to take care of. I’m really going to miss her.
” Jane adjusts the bag on her arm and shakes her head.
“Always polite. Such a good tenant. Even brought me homemade cookies today as a thank you for being a lovely landlady. Such a sweet girl.” She chuckles.
“She already handed in her notice too, poor thing. Said she’d be vacating right after the final match. ”
My entire body stills and goes cold.
“So, she’s really going,” I say quietly.
Jane doesn’t seem to catch the shift in my voice. “I suppose so,” she says. “Brave girl, that one. It’s not easy starting over. She’s got a fire in her.”
She does.
And it’s about to burn me alive.
Jane gives me a gentle smile and disappears up the stairs, leaving me standing in the foyer at a crossroads.
I step out onto the pavement, the door clicking shut behind me.
She’s already handed in her notice. Already started packing her life up.
And here I’ve been waiting for the right time, the perfect moment, like life owes me some neat little gesture to say how I feel.
I don’t know where to go from here.
I adjust my cufflinks for the thousandth time, though they were fine the first. My tie is crooked, but I don’t think I care anymore. My hands keep shaking and I can’t make them stop.
Staring at myself in the mirror doesn’t help. All I see in my reflection is the bed she’s slept in. The pillow that smells like her now.
My phone buzzes on the dresser. Mum.
“Hey,” I answer quickly, clearing my throat.
“Oliver, you better not be halfway out the door without talking to me,” she says, warm and scolding in the same breath.
“I was going to call after.” I exhale, dropping my shoulders.
“And miss a good luck speech from me? I don’t think so.” I can hear her moving around the kitchen at home. Probably making her nightly tea before she sets up a livestream of the awards.
“I don’t need a speech, Mum.”
She’s quiet for a moment, like she senses my mind isn’t on football right now. “What’s on your mind, Ollie?”
“Addison,” I say quietly. “I think she’s really going to leave.”
Silence stretches for a beat.
“Mum, I love her.”
“I know you do.”
“I don’t want her to leave. I don’t want to let her go without trying to stop her.”
I hear her sigh, a soft, knowing kind of sigh. “So don’t.”
“What if she leaves anyway?”
“Then you’ll be proud of yourself for trying,” she says simply. “But what if she says yes?”
I hesitate. I don’t have an answer for that.
“Tell me something, love,” she says gently. “What would Henry tell you to do right now?”
My chest tightens, the grief sitting sharp and dull all at once.
I don’t even need to think about it. I can already hear his voice, clear as day.
Go on, mate. Go get her. She’s the one. Don’t cock it up.
“He’d tell me to bloody go for it,” I say, quiet and cracked.
“Exactly,” she says, and I can hear her smile through the phone. “Play for the win.”
I let out a small smile.
“Oliver,” she says, “you don’t have to protect everyone else all the time. Sometimes you have to fight for what you want.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I love you, Mum.”
“I love you, too, Ollie.”
Addison doesn’t need neat. Or perfect. She needs honesty. She needs to know this is real to me, and always has been. She needs to know I love her and that none of this means a bloody thing if she’s not beside me.
And I want her beside me. Every day. For the rest of my life.
I head out the door quickly, because I can’t lose a second of time.
I’m in love with her. And I’m not letting her leave without knowing that.