The amount of information that busied itself in Alex's ever-active brain was overwhelming. After the discussion with Keeley regarding what she had discovered about Rebecca's true motives, she found herself struggling to sleep at night. That alone would be enough to keep a person on edge. But insult met injury when she added the complications of what Richmond was facing looking down the barrel of the upcoming Man City game. The idea that she had to navigate the awkwardness of her recently complicated relationship with one of their most valuable players was somehow towards the bottom of her concerns.

Alex had resigned herself to the fact that things between the two of them were just going to be uncomfortable. For how long, she was not sure. But she had agreed that it may not be in the best interest of one of the team's star players to be hounded by the physio about a kiss under the influence during the last few games of their season.

Richmond was facing relegation and the last thing Alex was interested in was playing a role in any more stress. Something she had always prided herself in was her amazing professionalism. She could maintain a successful professional relationship with Roy Kent for the remainder of the season. After that, there was plenty of time to evaluate just what the fuck all of this meant.

Keeley was much less likely to let the entire thing go. A dear friend and a very loyal girls' girl, Keeley was foaming at the mouth to give Roy a piece of her mind. It was only at Alex's request that she played nice. Only charged by her desperation for justice after what she learned about Rebecca, it was starting to become harder to keep her at bay.

Rebecca had become more pensive since returning from their weekend away. It was difficult for Alex to catch her at a time where it didn't seem like her thoughts were pulling her in multiple directions. Alex knew she was facing the pressure of relegation and considered the impact that would have on her image. But more importantly, she was now facing the difficult conversation of admitting just how malicious she had been when bringing Ted onboard for the season.

Rebecca had become more avoidant of her female confidants. The morning after Keeley had given her the ultimatum and figured her out, Rebecca found it easier to keep her office door closed for the majority of the day. Any run in with Keeley was charged with meaningful glances and thick with unspoken words. Even worse, her interactions with Alex were tense with an unsaid disappointment that caused an uncomfortable lump in Rebecca's throat. Ted, naturally, was someone she was working tirelessly to avoid altogether.

Roy Kent's house was quiet. The silence used to be a source of comfort. After screams in the stadiums week after week, media and fans with their theories and entitlements to details of his life, he often found solace in the ever calm setting of his home. However, that silence that morning was merely an echo chamber for every negative thought.

If he dared turn on the television, it was far too likely that he would see commentary about his recent performance over the past few matches. Impossible to ignore the possibility of relegation, and what felt like the possible end of his career as a starter, silence was the only option.

He sipped his tea, staring out the sliding glass door into the back garden, considering all that was ahead of him. It was only days before the game against Man City, the one that would define the next year of Richmond's life as a team and his as a player. And it was not lost on him that he would be face to face again with Jamie fucking Tartt. As far as things were with the team's physio he had kissed, he couldn't even begin to let himself wonder.

After watching Rupert leave her office, Rebecca straightened her spine. She knew what she had to do. Nothing could cloud her head or deter her from this necessary conversation as she walked down from her office toward the coach's office. She barely took in her surroundings, forcing a narrow focus on what was in front of her.

"I have something I need to tell you," she started, as soon as she stepped foot beyond the threshold.

"Hm. Deja vu." Ted smiled from his desk. It was only the second time that day she had attempted to talk with him about her horrible behavior.

"I'm a fucking bitch," she breathed, her shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Nope, that's new," Ted straightened in concern. He looked confused as she closed the door behind her.

"Ted," she turned toward him as the door clicked closed, "I lied to you." And from that admission, she knew there was nothing she could do to hold it back anymore. "I hired you because I wanted this team to lose. I wanted you to fail, and I sabotaged you every chance I had. It was me that hired that photographer who took that photo of you and Keeley. I set up the interview with Trent Crimm, hoping he would humiliate you. And I instigated the transfer of Jamie Tartt, even though you'd asked me not to. This club is all that Rupert has ever cared about, and I wanted to destroy it. To cause him as much pain and suffering as he has caused me. And I didn't care who I used or who I hurt. All you good people just trying to make a difference." There were tears blurring her vision as she looked on at Ted, whose face fell further with every detail she shared. "Ted, I'm so sorry." It was all she could do to hold back the sob in her throat.

"Mmm," Ted acknowledged. He nodded and got to his feet, coming around the desk toward Rebecca.

"If you want to quit immediately and call the press, I understand." She knew that this was likely the last exchange she would have with Ted Lasso, maybe her last day as the owner of the club.

"I forgive you." Ted told her.

"You-" Rebecca's head shot up. Her dewy eyes searched his in confusion, "what? Why?"

"Divorce is hard." Ted began with a shrug. "It doesn't matter if you're the one leaving or the one that got left. It makes folks do crazy things." Rebecca's face softened and she nodded in agreement. "Hell, I'm coaching soccer for Heaven's sake. In London. I mean that's nuts." They both let out a chuckle.

"Yeah," Rebecca acknowledged, allowing her lungs to let go of the air they'd been holding.

"But this job you gave me has changed my life. It gave me the distance I needed to see what was really going on." She considered how she had watched Ted navigate his own changing relationships throughout the course of the season. "But you and me? We're okay." He extended his hand toward her for a shake.

The words felt uncomfortable, like they were too small to simply allow anyone to forget all of the things that she had done. But the sincerity in his voice when he said it gave permission for those tears to finally fall. "Ted," she said gently, looking at him.

"Come on, just take this hand, my arms getting-" Rebecca cut him off by leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him. She let out the sob fighting to escape and squeezed him tight. He held her back, squeezing her gently for reassurance.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I think that if you care about someone and you got a little love in your heart there ain't nothing you can't get through together." They both stepped back from the hug and he looked at her pointedly, "you know what I'm saying?"

"You're not just talking about us are you?" She asked, realization on her face.

"Maybe. Maybe not." Ted shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"Okay," Rebecca smiled, the air in the room feeling much easier

"I'm gonna go change for practice-" Ted caught himself and Rebecca grinned, "whatever, good seeing you there, Boss," he turned to her before he exited the room, "you liven up the place."

Roy sat in the stands after training, the deafening silence in a stadium that seated tens of thousands was somehow comforting to a very active mind. In the middle of the section, despite not a single other soul on the pitch or in the stands, he felt small enough that the decisions ahead of them felt somehow less overwhelming than they had before. Even knowing full well that the knee he had trained on this afternoon was not one he could play on in the match against Manchester City.

"Hey." Ted started as he made his way down the stairs toward Roy.

"Hey," Roy greeted, watching as Ted made his way down the row towards him. Roy sat up uncomfortably when Ted took the seat beside him. "There's um, a lot of other seats." Roy looked around at the hundreds of other seats in his section that Ted could have occupied.

"Yeah, but this is what my ticket says." Ted said back, then laughed at himself. Roy was not amused by Ted's attempt at levity. "How're you doing, Roy?"

"Fine." Roy said plainly. "You?"

"Oh good, good, yeah." Ted cleared his throat. "Oh! I saw this video online. It was this kitten and a little baby chicken becoming friends and just hanging out together." Ted sat up to reach down into his pocket. "Well, let me show it to you-"

"What's this about?" Roy asked directly, causing Ted to stop, leaving his phone in his pocket. He chuckled gently.

"It's funny cause whenever my mom has something tough to talk about with me, she starts it off with something weird, overly nice and I-uh, yeah, just like the idea of a cat and a bird being all simpatico…"

Roy, only lingering on the fact that Ted came down to discuss something "tough" with him, moved over a seat. His jaw was set, fists clenched as he looked at Ted with narrowed, expectant eyes.

"Look Roy," Ted sighed, "we've been talking about the starting lineup against Man City-"

Roy couldn't bite back his frustration, "Dont you dare youre not fucking benching me." He pointed an angry, accusatory finger at Ted.

"I'm just talking-" Ted began again.

"Yeah," Roy got to his feet. "Talking. That's all you do is talk." He jerked his finger towards Ted, teeth bared. "Talking all that bullshit about how you've got my back."

"No," Ted argued. "Hey, I do have your back." '

"Bullshit." Roy shot. "You pretended to be a man of your word. You're fucking full of shit." Roy started to walk off. "You can go fuck yourself." He got to the steps and started down towards the exit. "Fuck you!" He shouted back over his shoulder, leaving Ted alone in the stands.

Alex tried not to elbow her way through the audience. She had arrived early enough that the other parents who wanted good seats were clogging the aisles. With the bulk of the seats empty, it was not hard for her to find Roy three rows back in the dead center of the room, already seated very much alone. The entire car ride over, she had braced herself for whatever awkward exchange there would be as they waited for the performance and maybe in the moments after before she took off to head home. It was less important for her to feel comfortable seated next to Roy than it was for Phoebe to feel supported. She had made a promise, afterall.

Roy was surprised when he heard someone clear their throat beside him. Looking up from his phone, he locked eyes with just about the last person he anticipated running into. Alex was standing in front of him, a jumper clinging to her frame and a jacket over her shoulder.

"I didn't expect you to actually come," Roy spoke up. Alex blanched slightly. He immediately felt like an ass. "I didn't mean-"

"It's fine," Alex raised a hand to absolve him of whatever he was going to try to say to qualify his statement. "Is this seat reserved?" She gestured to the one beside him.

"No," he reached over and moved his jacket. "Just make it look like it is so the classroom mums leave me the fuck alone."

Alex nodded with a smile, in no way shocked by this response. She took a seat next to him wordlessly. He immediately recognized the perfume she wore from the night in Liverpool. He felt the knot in his stomach tighten, ignoring the impulse to reach out to her. Alex took in the room, tracking a couple as they took a seat diagonal to them, muttering to one another and taking turns looking back at Roy. Alex had not put a lot of thought into how frustrating that must be to navigate something as mundane as a primary school performance as one of England's most recognizable footballers.

"Ah, Mr. Kent." A woman stepped forward with a warm smile. "Good to see you here."

"Ms. Bowen." Roy stood, nodded back, "wouldn't miss it. Phoebe's mum's got an overnight shift."

"And is this your lucky plus one for the evening?" She gestured toward Alex, who was trying to find a medium between looking disinterested and not appearing to be eavesdropping.

Roy coughed, "this is, uh-"

"Alex," Alex stood and reached her hand out toward the woman. "Phoebe's number two fan."

"I'm Phoebe's teacher," Ms. Bowen introduced. "She has quite the number one fan," she gestured her head toward Roy and smiled.

"She sure does. She's a lucky girl," Alex nodded, looking approvingly at Roy with a smile. Roy shifted uncomfortably under the admiring gaze of both women.

"Well, I'm glad you were able to make it," Ms. Bowen said to Roy. "And it was nice meeting you, Alex. Enjoy the show." With that, she excused herself.

Roy was thankful for the end of the exchange. Head spinning, he took his seat again, prepared to light fire to the entire auditorium if the concert did not start soon.

At the end of the concert, the performers all clamored down the stairs from backstage to meet with their patrons. Each of the little ones leapt into the arms of caregivers, relatives, and special guests. Phoebe's greeting of her uncle was not any different.

"Uncle Roy!" She shouted and wrapped her arms around his middle. He patted her back in the most affection Alex had seen Roy muster in her time knowing him. The young girl beamed at her and came over and gave her a hug.

"You did a wonderful job, Phoebe," Alex stepped back to her full height after giving the six year old a squeeze.

"Thanks! And I picked the blue jumper!" She pulled the wool garment away from her small frame for Alex to see clearly.

She smiled and nodded, "looks even better than it did in the store!" Phoebe beamed at her.

"Are we going to get some ice cream? You said if I got dressed and ready with no fuss and smiled the whole time, I could get it on the way home!" Alex chuckled. Of course Roy's go-to child management strategy was bribery.

"I can always count on you to remember," Roy laughed and tapped his temple.

"Well?" Phoebe looked expectantly at him.

"Yes," Roy rolled his eyes, pulling his coat on. Alex followed suit and started to do the same.

"I have to go get my coat, and then we can go!" Phoebe ran off again towards the hallway where the students had been crowded before the performance.

"Well," Alex smiled with a sigh. "I should get going."
"Oh," Roy cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah. Well-"

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Alex raised a brow, hoping that a quick exit would dissolve the tension in her shoulders.

"Yeah," Roy nodded. "Tomorrow."

"Good," she smiled. "Goodnight."

"Night." Roy said to her back as she made her way towards the doors.

When the two of them took a seat on the bench outside the ice cream shop, Roy was sure to hand his niece over the fistful of napkins he knew she'd shortly need. Too many trips home with chocolate ice cream dripped down her front had him overly cautious of the eating habits of six year olds. And he would be damned if she was going to ruin a jumper he had just bought her.

"There's something I want to talk with you about," Roy started, turning and resting his knee on the bench as he faced her.

"What's up?" Beyond her years, she perked up, eager to impart some necessary wisdom on her thirty something uncle.

"What would you think if I didn't play in the match this week? If I wouldn't be on the telly?" He was very careful about how he talked this over with her. It was hard for him to edge around a topic he'd rather not think about, let alone discuss. But if anyone was safe to discuss something so sensitive with, it would have to be Phoebe.

"Why wouldn't you play?" She was confused. There wasn't a single week during football season in her entire life that she would not be able to see her uncle play on the television. Roy had not realized just what a jarring concept that this could be for her.

"Well, you know on your team, we have to make substitutions for the players sometimes. It would be like that." Roy offered, handing the information to her in a package small enough for her tiny hands to hold.

"So you'd be sitting out so that your other friends had a chance to play?" It was almost like he could see the gears behind her blonde hair turning as she processed.

"Something like that, yeah." Roy agreed, the nuances of his injury were trivial at this point.

"Well, I think that's very nice of you," she said decisively, taking a lick of her ice cream. "I hope your friends say 'thank you.'"

Roy laughed, "sure, Phoebs." Phoebe smiled and took another lick of her dessert. "Do you think you're still going to watch if I'm not on the pitch?"

"Hmmm…" Phoebe thought, "yes." She paused to take another bite and stopped herself. Roy chuckled, cursing the honesty he had always praised her for.

"Uncle Roy?" Phoebe asked, taking an animated slurp of the ice cream cone she held in her fist. Roy looked down at her as he ate his own. "Is Alex your girlfriend or something?"

Roy knew that this question was coming. Too many Disney movies with people falling in love. Phoebe was on a kick about romance over the last couple of years. He couldn't so much as smile at a woman without her asking about their relationship status. Of course, having seen Alex twice now, he had anticipated some form of this question to pop up.

"No," Roy said flatly.

"Why not?"

"Well," he rolled his eyes. "Not every girl I know is going to be my girlfriend. Sometimes grown ups have friends that are girls and they don't date them." The reality of that settled in his stomach in a way that curdled the ice cream.

"I know that," Phoebe huffed, rolling her eyes back at him. "But she is really nice and really pretty. I think she should be the girlfriend kind of girl and not the friend kind of girl."

Roy chuckled, shaking his head dismissively, "I'll make note of that."

When Roy was offered a seat at his coach's kitchen table, he wasn't sure what the conversation was going to look like. But he knew that after the decision was made, there was no way he could give it any time to be reversed. Roy Kent was going to hold himself accountable. Ted, having enjoyed a few drinks at the Crown and Anchor, leaned against his counter with his finger deep in a jar of peanut butter. Roy watched uncomfortably as he put the finger into his mouth. Ted held the jar out toward him.

"I'm good." Roy declined.

"Got a nut allergy?" Ted questioned, looking back into the jar.

"Got a finger allergy." Roy quipped, Ted smirked and nodded.

"What else do I got to offer you?" Ted turned and looked around the kitchen. "We got red wine. We got tea. Oh! Two day old pasta water," He excitedly took the lid off a pot on the stove.

"Tea's fine," Roy agreed, ignoring the pasta water completely. "Look, I'm sorry I told

you to go fuck yourself."

"Ah," Ted threw a dismissive wave over his shoulder as he got to work on preparing the

tea. "La-ti-da."

"I'm usually better at hiding my anger," Roy explained and Ted turned to meet his eyes.

"You think so, huh?" He asked, his mouth still working to swallow all of the peanut

butter.

"Mmm." Roy conceded with a shrug.

"Know thyself." Ted quoted wisely. "Rest in Peace, Socrates," he gestured to the heavens.

"Told my niece I might not be playing." Ted looked at him and nodded. "Yeah, took her to get ice cream to talk it over."

"Well, hey. At least you have someone to talk to!" Ted encouraged," how was the ice cream?"

"Good," Roy shrugged. "It's fucking ice cream."
"Yeah," Ted nodded. "Ice cream's the best. It's like seeing Billy Joel live. It never disappointed." Roy chuckled. "It does give me the toots though. The ice cream," Ted clarified. "Not Billy Joel."
"I asked her if she was going to watch the match if I wasn't playing." Roy moved forward from Ted's lactose intolerance.

"Yeah?" Ted encouraged, his head in the cupboard as he dug around for the tea bags.

"Little shit said yes. Didn't even blink. Straight to my face."

"Hey, that's showbiz, ain't it?" Ted placed the tea bags in each mug and turned to Roy. "I promised myself I'd never watch Fresh Prince again when they swapped out Aunt Vivs." Ted shrugged in defeat. "But truth be told, as long as they let Carlton do his thing I was gonna take a minute to sit right there." Ted started talking quicker with excitement. His voice got louder, "Side bar: Alfonso Ribiero? Greatest physical comedian of the 19th, 20th, and 21 century. Roy watched his coach start to do the Carlton. "Case and point right here. Iconic." He only continued despite the point that had been made.

"I never know how to act when a grown man does the Carlton in front of me." Roy looked uncomfortable and shifted in his seat.

"You even know it from the silhouette! You know exactly what it is, who's doing it. The one, the only: ALFONSO-" There was a hammering on the floor above. "Sorry, Ms. Shipley!" Ted shouted up at the upstairs neighbor. "This has just been a thing all week long." He huffed to Roy. "You know what we could do?" Ted asked, changing trajectories in the conversation completely. Roy was struggling to keep up. "You've been hurt on and off all season. What if we just say you're injured and can't play? No shame in that."

"That would help protect my stalk if I want to move next season." Roy mused. "Play for a club that actually will start me. What if, God forbid, I end up playing in fucking America?" He looked disgusted for a split second before he steeled himself. "Where I'd dominate. They'd be like 'oh? Is this football?'"

"Well obviously my preference would be to have you at practice tomorrow and the game. But you gotta do what's right for you." Ted crossed the room with two mugs in his hand. He placed the steaming cups in front of Roy and himself, respectively.

Roy reaches out and cradles the mug in his hand. "Can I think about it?" he asked before taking the initial sip from the mug.

"I'd call you a big, dummy poo-poo face if you didn't." Ted said back with a smile. Both men lifted their mugs to one another before taking a sip. Ted winces as he forces himself to swallow the steaming mouthful. "Be honest," he starts, "it's a prank, right? The tea? Like, when tourist folks aren't around ya'll really don't drink this garbage."

"No, I love it." Roy said with a smirk.

"You don't love it. It's pigeon sweat."

Roy took another sip for effect, "ahhhh."

Ted watched and then took another sip himself. "Nope, horrible. Horrible."

Alex pulled her Richmond jumper over her head when she stepped out of the car. Throwing her bag over her shoulder, she steeled herself for another day. The closer they got to the Man City match, she was finding herself less and less excited to come to work. The heaviness of all of the uncomfortable dynamics and the weight of the match was increasingly difficult to keep swept under the rug.

As she made her way down the hall to her office, she noticed Roy sitting with his back to her in the room, his eyes fixated ahead on the empty chair at her desk. She stepped in cautiously, she checked over her shoulder to see if there was someone else he could be waiting for.

"Is this a door closed kind of situation?" She asked, stepping in and setting down her bag. Roy grunted in response. She shrugged and let the door click closed behind her. There was not a word exchanged when she crossed the room and took a seat at the desk. Roy was staring forward, his eyes fixed on the wood. She reached her hands out and covered the spot he was fixed on, forcing him to break eye contact and look up at her.

"You alright?" She asked when their eyes locked. Roy sighed and ran his hands through his hair, a deep growl rumbling in his chest. Alex nodded, "got it."

"I'm sitting bench." He mumbled. Alex's head shot up and she looked at him, eyes widened.

"Ted-"

"It wasn't Ted," Roy was quick to step in. After an afternoon of hating Ted Lasso, the evening ended with an agreement. "It was my choice."

Alex nodded, biting at her thumb nail in thought. "That's good," she mused aloud. "That's good, right?"

"No, it's fucking shit." Roy chuckled.

"No," Alex winced. "Sorry. I just meant-"

"I know what you mean." He held up a hand with a soft smile.

"How-" She began, swallowed, and started again. "How are you dealing with all of it?"

"Well, we're going to just claim that I'm injured. Which isn't a complete lie. Since my knee is absolute shit. And our new physio thinks it's better for me to rest than to reinjure." He looked at her pointedly with a smirk. She smiled back softly.

"Whatever we have to say," Alex nodded in agreement. "But I meant more so emotionally…"

"Oh, I will absolutely not be getting into the emotions of it all if I can help it," he slapped his knees in a sigh and got to his feet. Alex mirrored him and got to hers, crossing around the desk. "I have an entire off-season to be fucking miserable. I'm not going to start now."

Alex gave him a sympathetic smile and nodded, "I understand." She reached out and touched his upper arm gently. "I'm really proud of you."

Roy barked out a laugh. "Proud of me?"

"Yeah," Alex let her arm drop. He immediately missed the warmth of her touch. "I know this was a hard decision to make. And I think men who were far less brave would have ignored it altogether. Or gone down whining like a child."

"Yeah," Roy scratched the back of his neck. "Don't be too proud. I definitely did not concede without telling Lasso to go fuck himself."

Alex laughed, "I mean, you're still Roy Kent, afterall."

Roy rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yeah. Well, anyway," he looked down at the floor, scuffing it gently with his shoe. "I wanted to tell you myself. I haven't even had a chance to tell the team yet. But I wanted to make sure you knew."

Unsure as to why this was the case, Alex nodded. "Thanks."

"Yeah," he coughed. "Anyway-"

He was cut off by her reaching up and wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Caught completely off guard, it took him a beat to remember to reach around her as well. The way his arm snaked across her lower back and squeezed was all too familiar. The close contact stirred something in his chest that he had been fighting off since Liverpool. Alex pulled away from the hug when she found herself caught up in the comforting smell of his cologne. He immediately wanted to reach out for her again.

"Yeah," Roy said in response to nothing in particular. "Well," he gestured toward the door.

"Of course," Alex gestured to the door. "You've got to…"

"Yeah," Roy agreed. She looked away as he walked toward the door. He lingered in the doorway for a moment, tapping the frame with his fingertips. They locked eyes and he nodded, looked at the floor, and took off toward the locker room.

When Roy entered the locker room after his conversation with Alex, there was an immediate, deafening silence. The entire team watched as he crossed the room toward his spot, reaching in to place the jacket he took off of his athletic form.

"Good to see you, Roy." Ted spoke up. Roy turned toward Ted and nodded.

"Can I say something?" He asked, swallowing and reaching back into his locker.

"Sure thing," Ted was more than happy to give the captain the floor.

"Second team's gonna kick First team's asses today!" Roy shouted, pulling a scrimmage vest over his shirt. The entire locker room was alive again, shouting and cheering. Ted smiled broadly, clapping his hands together. Alex, from her office, grinned.