Chapter 10.

My heart is still beating fast after what I just witnessed. My hands shake, my eyes are still teary. I've grown attached to these guys, to Mats' team, to Dortmund, and having to watch yet another amazing game from far away, feeling completely left out of it, hurts.

It was my choice, a decision I made for myself, and even though I'm sticking to it, it doesn't mean it won't affect me. But the worst of all is to see Mats perform badly, to think of him vulnerable like that, it's not something I'm used to. And I can't help but think that it's my fault. I could have helped him get through the shock of Mario's transfer.

I could have made it better... I would have... should have...

I slump on the couch with a sigh, trying his cell one last time. I know it's unlikely he'll answer — they're probably still celebrating. Knowing Mats though, I have a feeling he isn't. He won't be happy about his game, even though he pulled it together after such a mistake. He was able to turn his game around for that second half, but it probably took a lot of mental strength from him — he won't ever forget that their away goal was his mistake.

Everyone was fantastic tonight. No one let the fact that they conceded a goal demoralize them.

Lukasz… Lukasz was unbelievable.

The way he ran back and almost blocked that shot to try to stop them from scoring.

God, just... so much determination.

I hope he's okay. I knew something was wrong around in the second half. He kept hitching his leg and stretching it every chance he got. I don't know how he lasted as long as he did, but he looked in serious pain when he was subbed off.

After Mats never answers, my fingers brush over the keys on my phone, tempting me to call Lukasz instead. I know the chances of him answering right now are just as slim, since they're probably still at the stadium.

I try anyways. It rings a few times, and just when I'm about to hang up, he answers eagerly, "Cecilia?"

"Lukasz, hi... Um... Hope you're not busy?"

"No, no... it's okay. Just with the massage crew and medic staff right now." There's a lot of ruffling around on the other side of the line, and then he exhales roughly.

"Oh... I can call back later."

"Nonsense. Are you okay?"

"Am I okay? Jesus, CONGRATULATIONS!"

I hear him laugh through the speaker, and it melts my heart.

"That was unbelievable, Lukasz! One of the best games I've ever seen."

"Thank you..." His tone is clipped and I'm pretty sure he stifles a groan.

"Are you okay? I saw you were subbed off. It didn't look good. Is it your hip again?"

"Not the hip..." He breathes. "I pulled my inner thigh muscle, but I'm fine. It should heal quickly... I probably won't play Saturday though."

"Good... you need the rest," I add in relief.

"As for the hip... well, they'll do everything possible so that it's at least manageable for Tuesday."

And just like that, the relief turns back into concern. "When you say manageable..."

"Don't worry about it, okay? I'm all in for that game. Cecilia... This will be the biggest game of my career. Of everyone's on this team. Can you believe it, how close we are... of reaching the Final?"

I can feel the excitement in his voice, it surpasses everything else. Nothing will keep him from that pitch on Tuesday.

"Lukasz?"

"Yeah?" He grunts. They must be doing something to him again. I can hear him inhale sharply.

"Please don't play if you're not completely fit." My voice comes out in a whisper because I know I have no right to ask such a thing.

The line goes silent which makes me believe he's covered the receiver. I scratch my forehead with a sigh, ready to take it back, when he speaks.

"I can't promise you that. I'm sorry." He sounds sad, as if it's as painful for him to admit as it is for me to hear.

I don't really know what to say, so I remain quiet.

"Listen..." His tone is softer now. "This is it, though. If we advance, I'd have over 3 weeks to recover before the final... but if we lose, I'll have my surgery right away, I promise."

"This is crazy!"

"Everyone is dealing with something, you know? I'm just doing my part for the team."

"Yes, but at what cost?"

"I will be fine. Don't worry."

I let out a breath, and we both fall silent for a while. I want to ask him about Mats, but I can't find the right words to do so.

"He's okay too, Cecilia..." he says, as if he's read my mind. "He's dealing with everything, on his own way."

"He didn't look good on the pitch today."

"I know..." Lukasz breathes into the phone again. "At least Klopp was able to get through him at halftime. Today was tough for him, but I think he just needs a bit of time, and a good rest. He'll come back strong."

I sigh, and before I can say anything, I hear other voices through the line... something about a shot?

"Cecilia, I have to go. Thank you for calling, and don't worry... okay? We'll talk another time?"

"Oh... okay. Sure." I don't get to say anything else because the line cuts abruptly.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Early the next morning, I wake up startled to my phone ringing and my heart speeds up in my chest. I answer without looking at the screen, barely registering the time flashing from the alarm clock on my nightstand.

"Hello?" My voice is hoarse with sleep.

"Cee Cee..." He breathes into the phone.

"Mats?" I sit up on my bed, surprised and relieved it's him. I have not heard from him since I left him and he's finally called me back. "Are you okay?"

"I'm so sorry..." are his first words.

"Mats..." I stop him immediately. The last thing he needs to be doing right now is apologize to me.

"I'm an idiot for shutting you out, Cee Cee. I mean it. I want you in my life. I need you. Any way you can give me, please. I'll be fine with whatever... as long as I can have you in my life, Cee Cee, please," he sounds desperate.

His voice cracks a couple times, and I'm not sure if it's from the intensity of everything he's saying right now, or the fact that he rushes through his words, without even taking a breath, or both. Whatever it is though, I know this is not about me. This is about the day he just had today. It's been too much. He's crumbling.

"Mats, breathe," I whisper and instead of snapping back at me for being told to relax or calm down, he actually takes a deep breath — this is bad. "It's going to be okay."

"Are you coming to Madrid for the second leg?"

My heart breaks at his desperate invitation. I wasn't planning on going, but how do I deny him this?

"I need you there," he adds, as he senses my hesitation.

I take a deep breath. I want this. I want to be there for him. If we can manage to set a line between friendship and something more, I think it could work. "Okay, I'll be there."

"Will I be able to see you afterward?" The hopefulness in his tone makes the line slowly dissolve.

Before I can object, he adds, "As friends, I promise." There is sincerity in his voice, but I know Mats. It might be too soon for this to be a good idea.

"I don't know if tha-"

"Cee Cee, please. I've missed you so much."

My heart breaks again. I've missed him too, terribly so, but I don't tell him this. He'd misunderstand.

"Okay, Mats. I'll stay for a bit after the game." As soon as I say the words, I hear him breathe again, the tension is lifted from the air, and I can feel him unwind.

I relax back into my pillow, and a small yawn escapes my lips.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he says softly.

"It's okay... Are you having trouble sleeping?" I ask this question in fear that I already know the answer.

"Yeah..." He sighs. "I'm dead tired, but I can't even sleep."

"You've had a long day..."

"Cee Cee, I swear... if that goal ends up costing us the final... I... I..." He trails off, completely lost.

"Mats, stop. You guys turned it around… brilliantly, I might add. You have a three goal advantage an-"

"You think Madrid's not able to beat us 3-0? At home? Please..."

"Of course they are, but that doesn't mean they will."

"I don't know what happened. I didn't see he was right behind me... and... a fucking pass to Roman!"

"Did you sleep last night?" I try to distract him. Him berating himself about his mistake will not lead us anywhere.

"Of course not... I couldn't, and how I wish it was because of the game."

"I knew you wouldn't be able to... I tried calling you..."

"That fucking kid, Cee Cee. How could he be so stupid... so naive... so heartless..." He's filled with spite, hate, disgust.

I let him go on and he lets everything out. I get the feeling he hasn't allowed himself to talk about this, with anyone. So I let him talk, and I just listen, because I know it's exactly what he needs.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

I wake up with my phone stuck to my face. I'm about to text Mats to apologize for passing out on him, when I notice I already have two texts from him. One around four in the morning: "Sleep tight, CC. Hope you don't see this til later." And then another one at seven: "Heading out for training and rehab with the team. I slept. Thank you."

Lukasz calls me later in the day, apologizing for hanging up so suddenly the night before. He's evasive about his situation and only says he won't be training or playing this weekend. We end up talking about Munich and my new job, and as it usually goes with him, everything flows smoothly and we talk for over an hour.

The next few days go in a blur as I busy myself with work so I can take Tuesday off. Mats calls Friday night before his next league game, he seems back to normal, focused, and on Saturday during the game he plays well.

Tuesday morning I fly to Madrid.

The stadium is half packed when I arrive.

I spot Kayla first, in our section and she smiles excitedly as she sees me. "Cee Cee, hello?! Would it kill you to answer any of my texts?"

I give her a sheepish smile. She has texted me a couple times for the past two weeks, but replying to her would have involved stupid, fake excuses.

"Mats said you started this new job in Munich? How is that going?" she continues eagerly.

"Is that all he said?" I wonder out loud.

Kayla eyes me suspiciously, but before she can say anything, someone's behind me, tapping my shoulder. I turn to find Jonas, Mats' brother, right in front of me.

Oh boy...

"Hey, Cee Cee. Just a heads up: Mom's upset because she didn't hear back from you on the casserole shit she sent you and Mats."

"The what?"

"Oh shit, there she comes, never mind." He squeezes between Kay and I, looking for his seat, revealing Mrs. Holthoff behind him.

"Cecilia, darling!" she says in her big hair and even bigger fur coat. "Two cell phones, one landline, but you and my son are harder to talk to than the president herself!"

I realize then, none of them know. Mats has not told a soul.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Holthoff. We've been really busy... um... thanks for the casserole … it was delicious."

She raises one eyebrow at me, and with a shaking head, moves on to her seat.

I sink next to Kayla, and hold my head in my hands.

"Hey," her hand is on my shoulder as she whispers. "Everything okay?"

I look up from my hands. She knows something's up. I can't lie to her. I slowly shake my head at her. She nods sweetly at me as her hand reaches for my knee and she gives me two pats. Cheers surround us then as the teams start making their way on the field.

"We'll talk later," Kayla whispers next to my ear.

As soon as the game starts, it becomes obvious Madrid is in it to win it. They need to score three goals, and they pressure Dortmund's lines dangerously. The guys manage though, surprisingly well, playing as a defensively strong cohesive unit. Mats is a wall back there and Lukasz has again complete control over Ronaldo.

I keep one eye on Lukasz the whole time, searching for any sign of pain. He looks invincible, though… unstoppable, even stronger than in the previous game.

The first half ends 0-0 and I am feeling confident Dortmund can pull through.

Kayla stays behind and as soon as the coast is clear, she asks: "Okay, what's up?"

"I broke up with Mats." I sigh, avoiding her eyes.

"I knew it!"

"Did Mats tell Schmelle?"

"No, but I knew... I knew you wouldn't just go to Munich."

When my eyes find hers, I'm relieved to be greeted with a friendly smile.

"Are you okay though?"

"I think I am," I say, nodding for emphasis. I know I am. I just need to know that he is fine too.

"Good," she says, wrapping an arm around me. When Jonas comes back we quickly change the topic.

The game resumes and Dortmund continue to be in control. It's been a great defensive effort, but in the last stages of the game, they start to crumble under Madrid's incessant attack. They score first from a poorly defended corner kick. The game turns rather reckless, and the home crowd is backing Madrid loudly.

They score again soon after, but after some panicky last minutes the final whistle blows, and we're through.

They've done it!

They're in the Champions League final!

We all jump in excitement from the stands as the guys euphorically celebrate on the pitch.

I'm dragged with the rest of the girls and families to meet the guys.

The locker rooms are in complete and utter chaos. The guys are singing, dancing, jumping around, showering with beers and champagne... it's like they've already won the whole thing.

I see Mats first. He's kind of hard to miss, towering in the middle of everything, an arm around one of the young one's neck, nudging him and messing his hair. Moritz is begging for mercy while he pulls futilely on Mats arm.

I walk to them with a smile on my face. As soon as he sees me, Mats releases the poor kid, and his grin stretches from ear to ear. I'm taken by surprise when his arms surround me and I'm lifted off the floor.

"Cee Cee..." He kisses my cheek, breathing into my neck.

The moment is instinctive, routine, normal... but somehow it feels intimate and awkward.

"Congratulations, Mats!" I say.

"Thank you, baby," he says, putting me down. "Cee Cee, sorry." He gives me a sheepish smile, his hand reaches for my face, pushing some hair behind my ear and brushing my cheek with his thumb. I stare at him, confused, surprised, and uncomfortable.

He notices it, pulls his hand away, scratching his side, just under his ribs — something he unconsciously does all the time.

We stand in front of each other awkwardly, when I see his mother walk in. He sees her too, and cringes.

"Mats," I whisper. "How come your mother still expects calls from me?"

"Shit, Cee Cee, I'm sorry. I just haven't had a chance to talk to her... at all, with so much going on."

"Have you told anyone?"

His eyes avoid me and he shakes his head, one hand pulling at his hair.

God, for a grown man he can be such a little boy sometimes.

Before I can say anything, he gets soaked by the contents of a cooler. Two of his teammates are running then, and he runs off after them, leaving me in the middle of the room, trying to wipe the mess from my pants.

As soon as I look up, a pair of deep blue eyes glues me in place. He is staring right at me, from the back of the room, sitting on a bench against the wall, in a hallway that leads to the back rooms.

His hair is not perfectly done — which is strange — instead it's messily pointing in every direction, even falling onto his forehead. Slowly but surely, a smile starts to appear on his face, and I realize my feet are already moving in his direction.

He straightens his pose, as I come closer. He has one leg stretched, one hand on his hip on that same side.

I sit next to him on the bench and he looks down.

"So... Champions League final, huh?"

He laughs, turns his head to me, and there's that smile again. That smile that feels it's just for me. "I still can't believe it," he says.

"You deserve it," I add wholeheartedly.

His eyes are shining so bright it makes my stomach flutter. My eyes travel to his hand, looking for a distraction, as I notice he is tightly gripping his hip. "Are you okay?"

He nods quickly. "It was amazing, Cecilia. Something I've never experienced before — so much adrenaline flowing through me. I swear I didn't even feel a tweak. Not even for one second." He smiles again before his hand finds the back of his neck. "Not during the game, at least... I suppose it'll be a tad different come morning."

"Are you going to be okay?"

He shrugs. "Three weeks. Three more league games and then the final..." His lips stretch again in a grin. "The final."

"Unbelievable..."

The door in front of us opens, revealing Mario Götze limping out of the infirmary, his thigh wrapped in ice packs. As karma would have it he was subbed with an injury early on. He looks at me briefly, and with a soft "hey", he limps away.

Lukasz gets up from the bench next to me. "I'm next," he says, gesturing with his head to the infirmary door. There's an edge to his voice I can't place, but I can see he is tense, his fingers pressing into his groin on the top of his thigh.

God, I hope he's not in too much pain.

"Oh, okay... sure," I say distractedly.

"Are you staying?

"Um... I should probably get going. I fly back to Munich tonight."

"Oh... right..." He looks down, seemingly disappointed. "Well, it was really nice to see you." He finally looks at me, a hand scratching his neck.

Before he can stop me or leave, I wrap him in a hug. "Congratulations!" I say into his neck.

"Thank you," he whispers, one of his hands makes it to the small of my back, as he hugs me back.

I'm suddenly possessed with the urging need of never letting him go.

God, what is wrong with me? This is Lukasz!

He takes a sharp breath, and his hand flies from my back to his hip as he straightens from the bent position of hugging me.

He composes the wince off his features and manages to force an apologetic smile. "I really need to get in there," he says, still gripping his hip.

"Yes, of course. Please..." I wish I had more time with him, but more than anything, I just need him to stop hurting.

"Goodbye, Cecilia. It was great to see you." His pose is still tense, but his face is relaxed.

"You too…" I smile weakly as he enters the room and closes the door behind him.

I sit back on the bench because I need a minute to gather myself. Why don't I want to go? Why do I wish I had a reason to stay? I'm not Mats' girl anymore. What reason would I possibly have stay here with them?

Gosh, I need to get a grip on myself.

Before I get up from the bench, Kayla is sitting next to me.

"Klopp gave them the night off. We'll have dinner together, and then maybe go out. How does that sound?"

"I fly back to Munich tonight."

"What, no. Why?" Her face crumples in disappointment.

"I just... I don't know..."

"Oh come on, just stay with us tonight. We have separate rooms. You can stay with me." Kayla smiles, grabbing my hand.

Before I can tell her no, Mats is walking to us. Kayla sees him, and stands quickly. "Offer still stands," she says, before she leaves me alone on the bench.

Mats drops next to me. "What a game, Cee Cee, what a game!" He still isn't able to contain the smile on his face. "I just wanted to say thank you, for coming and for taking my calls, for hearing me out. Really, thank you."

"I'm glad I did, Mats. You guys are making history. What an achievement this has been! I am so proud of you."

"I wouldn't have been able to do this without you. You know that, don't you?"

"Stop..." I refuse to let him give me any credit for this.

"Cee Cee, there's a dinner and a party afterward. Please, stay... as my friend. Please?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'd miss my flight."

"You fly with us tomorrow. Problem solved," he says with a smile. As if it was that easy.

"Mats, it will be awkward."

"Says who? Cee Cee. You're part of this team too, you know?" He puts a hand on my shoulder.

"But I'm not..." My head bows with the realization.

"Yes, you are. For the past four years, you've been here for every win, every defeat. Ups and downs, injuries... everything. And not just with me, with them too — with the team, and the rest of the girls." His hand moves from my shoulder to my chin, tilting my face up to meet his eyes. "You're still a part of the family, Cee Cee, and we're going through the most special time in the club's history, and you want to miss it? Because of me?"

My eyes fill with tears at his words and I wipe a few of them discreetly, releasing my face from his fingers.

"At least go with the girls, okay?" He sighs. "Please, Cee Cee, stay."

I want to stay. He wants me to stay. It sounded like Lukasz wanted me to stay too. What's the worst that could happen?

"Okay," I whisper.

Some of the boys are calling Mats, so he kisses the top of my head. "I'll talk to my mother, okay? Don't worry about anything." And he's gone.

When I finally pull myself together, I brush my hands over my thighs and rise, heading out of the locker room in search for Kayla.

I guess I am staying after all.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~