You were tired of drowning (so you let me sink instead) p2
For the next days, no proper sentences were spoken between the pair of you. Only soft looks, polite ÂŤhelloÂť and shy smiles when you were sure nobody were gonna catch you looking. The girls were still at camp, and you didnât want them to get the wrong impression incase Alexia would opt out, even though you opened up the door for her: you wouldnât tolerate further disappointment for your girls.
You found common ground in establishing routines in the week of practices with the national under girls.The girls didnât need to know what was going on yet, and a part of you still lingered on the thought of shutting Alexia out for good, just keeping her with an arms distance for safety. But then again, how would that be fair? Your daughters finally had the possibility to have two parents and Alexia finally seemed more than ready to be a parent, and you were not gonna starve them of that.
In quiet agreement, you and Alexia agreed to both focus on the pitch. Her as a coach and a scout, you as a mom. Both of you focused on your roles to the best of your ability.
It was clear as day that the girls were thriving in this new competitive environment, playing with other girls from all over the country within their level of skill and even better fueled a desire to grow. They chased down the field as fast as they could with their new teammates bonding over passed balls, cups of juice and sharing apples. The pair of you were watching the girls make friendship bound to last a lifetime all in the name of football, just like their mami had done when she entered the system over 30 years ago.
Your daughters; her daughters, the three of them moved like they were born to be on the pitch. You would often hear that from different academies that wanted your girls to sign, but you felt as though it would be too early too soon. They were still young, all of them born premature and they were thriving in their local grassroots club.
Alexia watched them with something closer to longing than with an analytic eye. As if she felt afraid theyâll vanish if she blinked too long. Her shoulders seemed tense, eyes wide, hand gripping her hips like it was the only thing keeping her standing up. Perhaps it was more of a distraction rather than a service to the team to have the girls there considering they seemed to be throwing Alexia off her game; but this was bound to be their time to shine, that they had earn though playing in all kinds of weather and staying consistent, and Alexia was sure as hell not gonna rob them of that experience.
You took a quick glance at Alexiaâs profile. Still so familiar. Still that same slope to her nose, the same mole on the side of her neck, the same softness at the corner of her mouth, the one you once used to kiss without hesitation.
The thing is, you are so forgiving. You are so forgiving it physically hurts. Some people would describe you as gullible or perhaps even naive, but you were raised on the assumption of people always being able to and given room to grow. Thatâs why you had always been kind with troubled people; second chances felt natural to you. Perhaps that sense of forgiveness is what eventually would burn you to the ground, but at the end: If you burn down because of your kindness rather than spite, then how can you be considered unworthy of whatever afterlife there is?
Alexia caught you slightly off guard, a nervous look in her eyes. Her gaze resembled a deer in the headlights. You urgently looked down, scrambling in search to find something to fiddle with in your bag.
ÂŤHiÂť she whispered in an almost questioning tone.
ÂŤGood morningÂť you whispered back, the sun softly glowing in the horizon of the pitch.
ÂŤDid the girls sleep well?Âť Alexia questioned, tugging on the sleeves of her half zip. The question sounded unnatural, and it didnât feel like something she would ask anyone.
You raised your brow in confusion, this situation was definitely not playing out how you had planned for it to.
ÂŤWell, yes, they arenât babies anymore. They usually sleep when they are supposed to sleepÂť you answered, not sure what Alexia was expecting of you.
Alexia laughed nervously, almost in an obnoxious way, but not enough to grasp the attention of the other proud parents scattered on the sidelines.
ÂŤBienÂť Alexia hushes, coughing slightly in embarrassment. That, the coughing was something she used to do when you started dating. You even remember how she coughed right as she dropped down to one knee during a visit to Bali, asking you to forever your love and commitment to her.
ÂŤYou are nervousÂť you teased, nudging her side gently.
ÂŤHow do we do this?Âť Alexia asked nervously, rubbing her neck in confusion.
Itâs odd how nervous Alexia feels, she thinks itâs odd too. The pair of you who once knew each other like the back of your hand, now feel uneasy in each others presence yet there is nothing more either of you want but being together.
But the both of you had a connection to the other that a small voice in the back of your mind was begging you to move forward with. To brush the dust off. To let sunlight in, all in hopes that the connection would flourish and develop into a beautiful sunflower. To for once put the needs of your daughters a side and figure out what a relationship with each other would look like.
You shrug, ÂŤWell, I havenât been exactly been in this situation before, and I certainly never have imagined this situation, so Iâm not sureÂť you reply, eyes tracing back to the pitch. ÂŤUgh,Âť you think to yourself, ÂŤwhat a ridiculous attempt at being funnyÂť.
Alexia feels the shivers spread down her spine, the action of her past self haunting her in ways sheâd never imagine. She dosent get the joke, it actually misses so much it ended up going straight over her head, but the past Alexia wouldâve been shaking her head while laughing a laugh so beautiful that not even the song of the birds could compete.
The new Alexia dosent. Sheâs in her head most days, rarely showing any signs of emotions to anyone. Itâs been this was since she left. The team coach told her that she likely had some form of clinical depression going on, which Alexia denied. A part of you feels guilty; if you had just fought hard enough for Alexia, then maybe she wouldâve never been in this long term state of despair.
You quickly recognise her emotions, as if you know her mind better than yours.
ÂŤHow about we meet up later, to try to sort things out? My sister is in town to see the girls play, and she talked about wanting to spend time with themÂť You suggest, fiddling with the little silver ring on your finger that your mom gifted you on behalf of the girls.
Alexia dosent seem to know what to say, emotions overwhelming her by the second. And when she takes notice of your ring, she feels further confused and conflicted.
ÂŤUh, si.I.. I think Iâd like thatÂť she confesses all while stuttering over her words.
You nod to her, as you move your attention back to the girls. They havenât seem to take notice yet, none of them voiced their suspicions after asking about why you talked so much to the coach a few days prior. You brushed it off by pretending you had questions about their schedule, and they seemed to accept it.
After practice, Alexia walked towards you while handing you a form. The other girls and their parents also got one, but Alexia went out of her way to hand your forms to you personally. It was information about sizes and information needed for any possible invoice they might need to send out. In the corner of the last document was a post it note with Alexiaâs handwriting.
She looked at the note and urged at you to read it. You took a closer look, and it was her telephone number.
Your gaze shifted and you lifted your brow.
ÂŤThanks?Âť you huffed, confused over why she would give you her number when you still knew her number by heart. Her number used to be your lifeline, someone you could call whenever with whatever intentions or worries you had.
Alexia seemed rather embarrassed, and quicky made a beeline after the other coaches while you turned: your attention to your daughters who were just running up to you.
ÂŤMama! Did you see what Ellie did?!Âť Esmie yelled, in awe with her sisterâs skills.
ÂŤSi, baby. Sheâs very good. You are all so encouraging , never stop cheering for one anotherÂť you said as you tucked a piece of Esmieâs hair.
ÂŤNow, your Tia Sofia is coming to spend some alone time with you three this afternoon. How does that sound hmm?Âť you exclaim, seeing the girls light up. The girls looked at each other before squealing in sync, excited to see their favourite family member.
Later that evening, you and Alexia meet up in a local park and decide to walk to a spot where you could admire the views. Itâs dark outside now, you noticed the lights are sparkling from afar almost like any rigged romantic movie.
ÂŤSo, how have you been?Âť you ask Alexia, breaking the silence. The nervousness is laying thick in the air filling your lungs with poison that makes it hard to showcase your social skills.
ÂŤI guess I should be the one to ask you how you have beenÂť Alexia shrugged as she shoved her hands into her pockets, eyes looking down to her shoes as the ground moved by with each step.
ÂŤAlexia, Iâm not 25 anymore. It has been hard, but it has been the best years of my life. The girls have made everything colorful, they have forced me to stop and appreciate the small thingsÂť you beam, lighting up whenever you get to talk about your daughters.
Alexia felt chills running down her spine. She dosent know how to stop it, but everytime you mention the girls or how the years have been; it makes her sick to her stomach. Not over you or the girls, far from that. But because of how she handled things, because of who she used to be when she made the decision to leave and for who she ended up being after the dust from her escape had settled.
ÂŤIm gladÂť Alexia mumbled, stealing a glance at you before she stops and sighs.
How is.. uh⌠tu esposa? Alexia asks, rubbing her head.
Your stop dead in your tracks.
ÂŤQue?Âť you ask, jaw dropped. ÂŤThe ring, arenât you married no? Or at best in a relationship?Âť Alexia mumbles, suddenly realising how stupid her question is.
ÂŤHow would I ever find the time for that? The ring was gifted to me by my mami from my hijasÂť you chuckle, rolling your eyes slightly.
ÂŤYou are allowed to hate me, you know that right?Âť She urges, looking up at you as if sheâs scared that you might turn around and disappear.
You raise your eyebrow. Strangely enough, you donât hate her or resent her, you care about her.
ÂŤI donât hate you? I care about you, Ale. I could never hate youÂť you reply, gently touching her shoulder in the process.
Alexia feels her heart pang at the drop of her sacred nickname.
ÂŤWhy?Âť she challenges curiously.
ÂŤWhy would I?Âť you follow up, feeling confused about the situation. You loved Alexia with all your heart, and even if sheâd push you off the end of the world; you would never think any less of her.
ÂŤBecause I left you with the girls, all by yourself without an explanation or money or even as much as a note. That should be enough to make anyone hate someoneÂť she shruggs, embarrassed by her own actions.
Alexia looks like sheâs about to have an emotional breakdown right here on the path to the bench at the top of the tracks.
ÂŤIm pretty sure I wouldâve hated myself, at least thatâs what I do every time I look in the mirror. So please, hate me. Be angry at me, yell if you wishÂť Alexia pleads.â It makes you raise your eyebrow again.
You just shake your head, feeling slightly frustrated with how she wants you to hate her. It seems odd to want someone to hate you, when all they want to do is to love you.
Then, it clicks for you as you both listen to the sound of nothing but your tracks.
ÂŤDo you want me to hate you because that would make things easier for you?Âť you ask, confusion laying heavy on your shoulders.
Alexia looks at you with sadness in her eyes, felling embarrassed by her selfishness. She nods slowly, quickly wiping her eye.
ÂŤI donât hate you; I never could. After all, you gave me the three things I carry closest to my heart. My daughters, your daughters, our daughters. How could I hate someone that gave me my reason to wake up every morning?Âť you ask, slightly sounding unintentionally ironical by the last syllable.
ÂŤSorry, I think you are right and i feel selfish for trying to make things easier for myselfÂť Alexia continues, as you move towards the bench by the viewpoint. The way you describe the girls as herâs too makes her heart pound in her chest with pride.
ÂŤI understand that, the important thing is that you feel like making a changeÂť you say supportively, trying as best as you can to lighten up her spirits.
Alexia shruggs, not sure if you mean that you arenât holding grudges.
You sit down at a bench together, both feeling slightly awkward. The silence filled the space between you, but surprisingly this time; it is a comfortable silence.
Your eyes moves from the views of Barcelona to Alexia. She dosent look at you, feeling uncomfortable with her actions.
ÂŤAlexiaÂť you chirp, looking at her.
ÂŤAle, please, talk to meÂť you plead, looking at her with the most genuine smile with the best good old puppy eyes you could possibly offer her.
Her nickname once again makes her heart pang. She looks at you almost instantly. Her face is flushed.
For the first time, you have taken actual notice of her. Of her features. Of her her face has changed from someone who was in love with her family while flying high, to someone who tries to avoid anyone that might recognise her.
You lean towards her, pulling her in for a hug. At first she freezes in your arms, but after a moment, she relaxes, hugging you back ever so tight.
âI donât even know who they are,â Alexia sobs while breaking the silence, voice quiet and hoarse. âI watched clips of them on instagram. Followed updates on posts. Lingered in the dark. But I donât know what they laugh at. What they dream about. I donât know which one hates pineapple and which one still sleeps with the light on.â
She sobs in your arms, and you instinctively stroke her hair attempting to soothe her.
âAnd I donât know if I deserve to have a chance to know these thingsÂť she confesses, voice quietly trembling.
You let her words sit in the air, thick and aching. Her vulnerability isnât something to play with; it dosent come naturally for her to showcase her sensitive side.
You let her go, before bringing your hand to her hands and moving them towards you. You intertwine with her hands, holding them tight.
âEsmie sleeps with the light on. Estella pretends sheâs not scared of thunderstorms, but she always crawls into my bed when her sisters have fallen asleep. Ellie says pineapple is âan insult to pizza.â, and once even spat out a piece right into her sisters special princess sweaterÂť you explain, letting out a chuckle as the memory of a two year old Ellie spitting out pineapple onto her sisterâs sweater before yelling ÂŤYUCKÂť plays out your mind.
Alexia smiles before she lets out a hollow breath; not quite a laugh, not quite a sob. Her fingers tighten on your hands, holding on to you like you are her last lifeline.
And in so many ways, you are her last lifeline. Her last chance at doing thing right before she wishes to vanish. Her last chance to finally find purpose again, and to feel a wish to wake up in the mornings. Her last chance at normalcy.
âGod,â she whispers shakingly âI missed so much. I missed... everything.â
You nod, slowly. âIm sorry you did, AlexiaÂť
She swallows hard, âItâs like... Iâm sitting watching their lives, and Iâm not in the picture. Iâm not even in the space around it. Iâm the shadow on the edge. I donât deserve your kindness or forgiveness, y/n. Iâd never forgive myself if I were in your position.â
ÂŤPerhaps that whatâs sets us apart? What wouldâve made us a good team?Âť you whisper back, eyes tracing back to the views looking down at the city.
ÂŤYou were always so good to me, so loyal, Y/N. I never deserved a woman like you, you were always so strong, you still are. And so beautiful too, Iâm happy that the hijas got your faceÂť Alexia confesses, kicking a rock in a combination of frustration and embarrassment while retracting her hands into her hair.
You donât know what to say in return, but the acknowledgment feels soothing on the wounds Alexia once created.
âI wanted to be the mother who was there every day. I really did. I just, I got scared. I thought if I stayed, Iâd fail them. I thought theyâd grow up resenting me if they saw how small and broken I wasâ Alexia mumbles, taking a sip of her bottle of water.
âAnd instead,â you urge, âyou resent yourself for being gone.â
Alexia flinches. The truth never lands softly.
âI thought I was protecting them,â she pleads. âBut I was just..absenting myself. And now? Now I donât even know what Iâm grieving. Them? You? Or the life I was supposed to have and walked away from?Âť
You close your eyes to catch a breath. You know that kind of grief. Youâve held it alone for years. After deciding you had enough of holding it, you shoved it into a box and threw it on the attic, in hopes that when the girls grew up and started their lives as adults; you could eventually clean out the mess in silence.
âYou left me with a newborn in each arm and another crying on the floor. I was drowning, Ale. And I didnât get to walk away from any of it. I didnât get to say âIâm scaredâ and disappear. You left me confused, I wish you wouldâve said something Ale, I couldâve gotten you helpÂť you whisper back, a silent tear escaping your eyes, caught off guard by your own confession.
Alexia instantly notice and wipes the tear, looking at you with a mix of admiration and fear in her eyes.
The way you still say her nickname haunts her to her bones. Nobody has been allowed to call her that since she left.
âI know,â she chokes out. âAnd I hate myself for it.â
Alexia then lets out a short laugh as tears run down her cheeks, all while she gently strokes your back.
ÂŤGod, Iâm here all pathetic while you wanted to get me help? Oh Y/N, the great woman you are, anyone would be the luckiest woman alive to be able to carry your kidsÂť she says, sniffling.
âDonât,â you say, sharper than you mean to.
It causes Alexia to slightly flinch which she seems to get embarrassed about. You ease your voice gracefully.
âDonât hate yourself. Just do better now. Because theyâre still here. Theyâre not little anymore, but theyâre still yours. That is if you want themÂť You explain, feeling safe in her presence.
âI want them, I do, promesa,â she says instantly, lifting her head up again. The sentence comes out more as a whisper rather than with steady, but Alexia isnât embarrassed about it anymore.
âI want to know their favorite songs and what they dream about and who theyâre afraid of becoming. I want to pick them up from training and fight with them about screentime and see them roll their eyes at me when I get too emotional.â
She looks up towards the sky with her imagination running wild over what could possibly be in her immediate future, but itâs hard quickly stolen away from her as reality strikes her like lightning and she lets out a sigh.
âBut I know I canât just have that and Mami told me so too,â she says, muffled. âI canât just show up and be someone they trust. I canât expect their trust or their love. Iâm not even sure theyâll speak to me.â
Youâre quiet. Itâs touching how reconnecting has been a conversation between the Putellas women, and the approval from Eli makes the reunion seem more realistic.
âThey will. Maybe not all at once. And it wonât be easy. But theyâve asked questions for years, Ale. Theyâve searched for you in crowds. Theyâve cried on birthdays. Theyâve asked Santa for their mami. Theyâve waited.â
Alexia lifts her head slowly. Her face is wet and her cheeks are flush.
ÂŤThey waited?Âť Alexia parrots, looking at you with tears filling her eyes.
ÂŤThey waited, Iâve told them about you. I never showed pictures off your face incase they were to hold grudges, but i told them everything.Âť you explain, looking out towards the buildings underneath you.
ÂŤOh..Âť Alexia mumbles, scared to death over what things you told them and horrified by the thought of them resenting her.
ÂŤI only told them the good things, Ale. How much you loved them, held them, sang to them and how well you cared for me. I told them about your family, and how I felt like i was a member of the family with the same ties you have. I would never shame your name.Âť you sniffle, thinking about how you loved cooking with Alexiaâs mom.
âHow do I fix something I broke this badly?â She asks, looking into the sky above the city.
âYou donât fix it,â you say softly. âYou build something new. Something stronger. One day, one conversation, one apology at a time. You sit through the silence and share the truth. You take the anger. You earn the right to stay.â
Her lips tremble, still not comprehending how you are able to let her into you and the girls lives again after she ran away.
âAnd you?â she asks, voice fragile. âWould you let me try?â
You look at her, this time you really look. This is not the woman who left. This is someone cracked open, humbled, trembling with desire to get her family back. However hopeful you feel, the thought of being in a relationship with Alexia feels rather distant: but being co-parents feels manageable.
âI let myself hope for a long time,â you admit. âThen I taught myself how to stop. But a part of me... a part of me never stopped saving a seat at the table for you just in case you decided to come home.
âEven after everything?â
You nod. âEspecially after everything, I canât promise anything in terms of a relationship between us of respect to myself. But I promise Iâll help you try to connect with themâ
She blinks. Her eyes find the cityâs skyline once again.
âTheyâre extraordinary,â she says. âI donât know how I ever walked away from them.â
âYou didnât know who you were yet,how do you raise three tiny girls without knowing yourself to the point of bare honesty? â you reply gently. âBut now you do.â
A silence falls. Not cold. Not tense.
ÂŤHow do we move forward?Âť Alexia inquires, looking visibly more tired yet calm.
ÂŤI think the best thing is for me to talk to the girls alone first, to prepare them and then perhaps Iâll call you?Âť you spoke, slightly worried about how the girls will take it.
ÂŤBien, did you get my number?Âť Alexia asks, visibly becoming red.
You raise your brow at her before letting out a laugh.
ÂŤWhen you meet someone and you stay with them for 10 years, you never forget their numberÂť you hum, smiling at her.
ÂŤCharmerÂť Alexia hums, blushing even further.
ÂŤI have my good daysÂť you hum, winking at her.
Alexia laughs. It feels weird for her, laughing because of joy rather than habit. She opens up her arms and pulls you in as you watch the skyline together in silence.
Perhaps, not all burnt bridges are gone.
