Chapter 26.

The loud, steady beeping that I'm sure I turned down ten minutes ago is back again. I turn off the alarm, permanently this time, and stretch out on the bed. A smile stretches on my face immediately as I remember the events of last night, and my hand reaches across the bed, seeking out Lukasz. When my hand grasps at empty sheets — sheets that are semi-cold now — I frown. Not only is he already awake, but it seems that he has been for a while.

The room is bright now with sunshine pouring in, and a quick look back at the clock tells me it is about a quarter past eight in the morning.

"Crap," I sputter, as I fly off the bed. I can hear water running in the bathroom, so at least I know where he is.

I hadn't planned to go to the event today, so I obviously don't have an outfit picked out. I busy myself in my closet, looking for something decent to wear. I dig at the bottom, throwing a few pairs of shoes over my shoulder.

A small chuckle behind me startles me, and I stand up quickly turning to see Lukasz standing, leaning with his shoulder on the frame of the bedroom door, arms crossed over his chest. He, unlike me, is well dressed from head to toe in jeans and a black tee-shirt. His face is smoothly shaven, his hair perfectly styled.

The visual is almost too much, and images of last night attack my brain — him caging me, his chest exposed, his eyes boring into mine, his fingers inside of me...

The sound of him clearing his throat draws my attention back to his face. His eyes are the most beautiful, well rested shade of blue I've ever seen. A smile involuntarily takes over most of my face, and I'm ridiculously shy all of a sudden.

"Hi…" I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, while my other hand pulls at the edges of the shirt I'm still wearing — his shirt.

"Good morning, Cecilia." His smile is just as wide, matching mine and making the room impossibly brighter.

"I... uhm..." I search for words while I walk over to him. "You should have woken me."

"Nonsense…." He shakes his head, smiling at me. He reaches out taking my fingers and tugging me into his arms. A warm kiss is placed on my forehead. "There's still plenty of time."

I melt into him, my head lulling comfortably against his chest. I run a hand over his chest and down his torso, resting it over the belt on his low hanging jeans.

"Are you okay?" When I look up to him, his smile is still in place and he nods.

I believe him.

Everything about him today screams peacefulness, happiness, bliss.

Pretty soon, I remember my situation and the time. "We're going to be late," I say reluctantly, pulling away from him. A moment later I'm hustling into the bathroom.

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

Out in the living room, Lukasz is standing next to the couch. His leather jacket is hanging over the arm of the chair next to him.

"I made coffee," he blurts out adorably, as if he's not sure it was the right thing to do.

I smile at him, heading into the kitchen, and as I realize he has not had any coffee, I pour us two travel mugs.

I set the mugs on the table, next to my purse, and step toward him. I tiptoe — even though I'm wearing heels, he still has a few inches on me — and place a soft kiss on his lips.

"Thank you," I whisper against his lips, and a soft groan builds in his chest. He pulls me back into him, a little longer this time, moving his lips against mine.

Too soon, the kiss ends and Lukasz is pulling away. He smiles as if everything is right in the world and gazes soul deep into my eyes.

"I thought you said we'd be late," he says, caressing the blush flushing across my cheek. "Shall we?"

"I guess." I sigh reluctantly, and he laughs through his nose.

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

It doesn't take us long to arrive to the old training grounds. In true Lukasz fashion, he had already arranged our ride with his driver.

Nancy is ready and waiting for us as we pull in. She says everything is on schedule as planned. Lukasz and Nancy exchange a quick hand-shake, and as she starts walking, he turns to waggle his eyebrows at me.

The nerve!

A small "ugh," leaves my lips as I scowl at him. We both resume our walks, while I pretend to be annoyed and he chuckles next to me.

Lukasz and I are taken to a room in the back while they make final arrangements outside at the tents. From here I can see some of the little children fidget and line up as they get ready for their surprise guest. Nancy pokes her head into the room, to tell us that they're about to introduce him.

I look at Lukasz and watch as he takes a deep breath. I narrow my eyes at him, suspiciously, searching for any sign of discomfort. There is none, and I quickly forget about my paranoia when Lukasz smiles brightly at me. His eyes match his smile just as much, and there's genuine excitement reflecting in his features.

He gives me a wink before walking out to the table, his face stretched happily into a grin and waving at all the little children.

I quickly walk back out to the front of the tent as I watch him do his thing. My heart swells in my chest as I look at Lukasz. He practically beams as he signs autograph after autograph and takes pictures with everyone, even the parents, who seem just as excited, if not more, than their kids. A few times, in between kids, he looks up and smiles at me. I ridiculously blush, every single time.

Seeing Lukasz with the children takes me back a few years. To the very first day I ever saw him. He was with kids then too, although not at an event like this. It was just a regular game of his, and I remember one of my little ones, standing proudly next to a crouched Lukasz, hands around his neck as I snapped the pic of both them. I still have that picture. I even know exactly where it is, having looked for it a couple weeks ago.

Time passes and the line doesn't seem to get any shorter. My attention is split between Lukasz and everything going on backstage until I notice that his entire demeanor has shifted. His smile is all wrong now, and his eyes are not as bright as before. He also doesn't look up at me anymore...

As they take the next picture, he smiles, but it is clearly forced for the moment. The fingers of his hand are gripping onto his thigh under the table, his left leg bobbing rapidly beneath it.

A quick glance at my watch tells me he's been sitting there for nearly forty five minutes. He's said a few times how sitting for long periods of time can get uncomfortable... I rush out onto the stage and approach him from behind.

I stoop off to his side, whispering. "Should we stop?"

He shakes his head, taking a deep breath without looking at me. His eyes chase the line of kids still waiting.

"Come on, we can take a little break." My fingers gently squeeze his shoulder. I know he won't leave those kids waiting, but he clearly needs a moment.

He turns to me briefly before sighing in defeat. "Five minutes," he whispers.

I signal Nancy and she announces we'll be taking a break.

The moment we're outside, Lukasz places his hands on his hips and takes a couple deep breaths. He stretches his legs and back a bit, rolling his head around on his shoulders to get rid of some underlying tension there. He's not really limping, which tells me he isn't that badly off. When he turns back to me, he has composed his face.

"I'm-"

"Don't you dare," I interrupt him before he apologizes.

"What?!" He laughs, coming closer to me. "I was going to say I'm better." He stands right before me, towering over me — a sweet smile on his face.

"Were you really?"

He shakes his head admittedly, tapping a finger on my nose before heading back inside.

Once he's done with signing, they take a few pictures, and he is shaking hands with my boss when I approach them. I am just about to ask him if he's ready to leave when a group of kids walk up to us.

"Mr. Piszczek, would you play a game with us?" one of the boys asks, tugging on Lukasz's leather jacket. He stands slightly ahead of the rest, no doubt the elected spokesperson of the group.

I shoot a glance to Lukasz, and I see that he's watching me too. I also see his hand on his hip, and as soon as I do, he drops it.

I crouch in front of the kid. "Sweetie, Mr. Piszczek already gave us quite a chunk of his time, let's not impose, okay?"

His face falls, but the others don't hesitate to chip in. "Pleaaaaaaase, Mr. Lukasz, pleeeeeease!"

Lukasz's hand is on my shoulder, and as I get up, he smiles. "We have time for one game."

His smile doesn't falter even under my glare. He runs his hand from my shoulder down my arm as I shake my head at him. He should be resting. It's already been such an incredible effort that he is here. That he flew here yesterday, after his game. Even though he "took it easy", he was in quite some pain last night. He is obviously uncomfortable today. He should really be resting.

"It's okay," he assures, his eyes pleading with me. "It's nothing, really."

I agree with a sigh, and the kids erupt in cheers. In the next few minutes, Lukasz is in sponsors' gear, running around the field with dozens of kids on his tail.

The kids have a blast with him, and he seems to be enjoying himself too. I sit and watch in awe as he makes their dream come true. At the end of it, the kids are exhausted and look on Lukasz' face is one of complete fulfillment and joy.

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

I hadn't realized we had spent so much time at the fair. It's already four in the afternoon, and Lukasz has to be at the airport in an hour to check in for his flight. He is flittering around the room, getting his stuff together after taking a shower and dressing again.

I can see right through him.

I can see it in the so slight limp in his every other step.

I can see it in the way his forehead remotely creases in concentration as he tries to keep his breathing in check.

He hates when I worry, but I'm afraid it's a little too late for that.

I've seen him through good days and bad days. I've bottled everything away and tried to help him get to the finishing line in the easiest way that he can, given his situation.

For some inexplicable reason, as I watch him pretend to be okay, it all seems to be threatening to come spilling out of me. This weekend has been a dream, but when I think about the week ahead of him, this weekend has been too much.

He's already in pain, and he hasn't even started physically preparing yet.

I should've allowed him the time this weekend to rest instead.

"Cecilia?" Lukasz' voice rings out in the space between us, bringing me back from where I was lost in my thoughts. "What is it?" His voice holds all the concern in the world.

I lift my head from the door and stare back at him. "Nothing," I lie, trying to compose my face the best I can.

He walks in my direction, his eyes never leave mine. "What is it?" His tone is as soft as his thumb brushing my cheek.

"I'm sorry," I finally say, unable to keep my voice from breaking. "I'm just a little worried about you, and next week. This weekend was amazing, Lukasz, it really was, but-" It all come stumbling out and so do my tears.

"Hey..." he interrupts me, his hand now cupping my face. "No buts. This weekend was incredible for me too. It was exactly what I needed. I wouldn't trade it for all the rest in the world."

When I look up at him, he smiles, and a little crease appears between his eyebrows as he points at the picture I had all but forgotten clutched to my stomach.

I stare at it for a moment, not really sure I believe that after all this time — after all these years — I still have it. I brush a finger over the familiar face and smile. My heart swells with the realization that even back then, this smile, it was mine — it was for me.

His breath hitches in his throat as his eyes settle on the picture after I hand it to him. He looks at me, back to it, and then back at me before he even begins to speak.

"How?" he chokes out on a breath. "Where did it... ?"

His eyes widen, and he brings the picture closer to his face. "That's me!"

"Yes." I giggle.

"With that kid… that day."

"Yes."

"The day I met you." His voice is barely a whisper as he still stares at the picture.

"Yes."

"You kept this?" When he looks up at me, I can only nod. "Cecilia, I..." he trails off. "I just..."

The picture is still between his fingers as both hands cup my face. When his lips collapse harshly with mine, I can't help but reciprocate.

The sound of the horn coming from outside forces us apart, and he groans as he presses his forehead against mine. His eyes are closed when I look up at him but as soon as he opens them, he frowns.

"Cecilia, please don't cry..." His thumbs delicately brush away the tears I didn't know I was spilling.

I don't want to cry. I wish I wasn't. I wish I was strong enough. But the very thought of him leaving this apartment and all that he has to endure this week is tearing up at my insides.

I don't want to let him go. I don't want him to leave.

But he has to. We're out of time.

"God, you're killing me," he whispers, looking down and letting go of my face. It could be my eyes fooling me, but I could swear his water too.

I'm shaking my head, at myself mostly, for doing this to him. When the horn outside goes off again, he steps back and glares at the window.

"You should go," I say, wiping at my own tears.

He frowns again when he looks back at me. He reaches into his pocket, and before I know it, he's got his phone in his hand.

"Maybe I can change my flight," he says quickly. "There might be another one early tomorrow morning?"

"No, no, no," I say with each step until I meet him. "Please, I know you have to go. I'm sorry I said that, okay? You know me. I worry all the time." I try for a little laugh, but it comes out as a choked sob.

He sighs and his arm comes around me as he hugs me to his chest. "Don't be sorry for telling me how you're feeling. Please." He kisses the top of my head, and with his lips still pressed against my hair, he whispers, "I love you. You know that, don't you?"

I nod against his chest, not able to utter any words.

He gives me back the picture and grabs his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He pulls my face in both hands and kisses me hurriedly, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose.

"I'll see you in Wembley," he says against my lips.

I try to smile and contain my tears, but I don't dare to utter a word in fear of ruining this moment.

He takes one questioning look at me, and with a nod, he decides to go.

I keep my smile in place until the door closes behind him.

Holding the picture to my chest, I look out the window. He makes a quick exit of the building to meet Thomas who has the trunk of the car already open and waiting.

With a hand on the door of the car, Lukasz looks up at my window, and a small smile stretches on one side of his face.

"See you in Wembley," I repeat to myself, smiling back at him through my tears.

I stare through the window as they speed away, my mind already counting the days until I see him on that pitch for the Champions League Final.

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