Never Really Over

Chapter 31

July 2019

Fourmidable. It had been a season where John's dreams came true like never before; every domestic honour was City's and his. Four more trophies in the cabinet, four more medals hanging from his bedpost (one day, he'd find a house with a proper place to display them.) But it was all so bittersweet because he was starting to feel like a fraud. His season had begun so well, capitalising on the form and confidence he had found in Russia. But in February, everything changed. Beth, his constant, was gone. She was with someone else, celebrating his wins, and commiserating his losses. Whenever he closed his eyes he'd picture her with Gomes, and it was torture, he couldn't sleep, barely ate, he grew weaker, both physically and mentally by the day. Everyone was worried about him. He knew because it seemed like every time, he walked into a room the conversation would die and the people in it would turn to look at him sheepishly like naughty kids caught out, but there would be pity in their eyes.

"He's grieving," he'd overheard his mum telling Jenny. He'd snorted in disgust at such an over-the-top remark; Beth wasn't dead. Except, in so many ways, it felt like she was. His entire future had disappeared with three little words 'I'm seeing someone'. Months on, his stomach still turned when he replayed the moment in his head, and he would feel bile rise in his throat.

His misery had been compounded when not even two weeks after that night in Little Rome he found himself injured again. Unable to train properly and once again left on the fringes on match days, he had too much time to think. He was miserable to live with; short tempered and snappy with Gigi when all she was trying to do was help. It was an effort, to put on a brave face for James. One morning, whilst stirring soggy cereal around a bowl whilst he sat in front of CBeebies with James propped up next to him on the sofa hypnotised by the colours and sounds coming from the TV that John was completely numb to, he had glanced over at Georgia, who was sitting eating her own breakfast at the table, like she thought people should, and without a hint of irony asked her, "Gigi, have you ever felt like you had your entire future planned out and then, one day, it's all just gone and you don't know what the fuck to do with yourself?!"

She had almost choked on her grapefruit, had he always been so oblivious?! She had to laugh. "Yes, John," she raised an eyebrow as she looked at the boy who promised her the world and delivered nothing, then down at the little boy next to him, the best curveball anyone could have ever had. "Twice actually."

His injury left him on the side lines for weeks, and when he was finally fit again, he found himself out of favour. He was a confidence player, he was self-aware enough to know that now, and not being selected just made everything worse. By the time the season ended he was a shell of the player who started it. Everyone had noticed, sessions with the club psychologist became more frequent, but he thought they were unnecessary. He was guarded and largely un-cooperative during them. He didn't need to pour his heart out in search of an answer over what was wrong, he already knew the exact moment it all went wrong.

I'm seeing someone.

The anger he had felt that night was still inside of him, festering away, but it was outweighed by the fact he missed her. More than ever, because now, he didn't think she was coming back.

Summer had meant international duty again. Usually, this was like a balm to any pain he was experiencing at City, but this time was different. His error-stricken performance in the Nations League semi-final is just another blow to his already fragile confidence. When the final whistle blew, he'd looked around the stands with tears in his eyes; searching for someone who wasn't there. He'd never felt loneliness like it. He'd never really been alone; he'd been Jenny's shadow his entire childhood, then in his teens he had Gigi, he had replaced her with Beth, and even when they weren't together, he still knew that she would always be there for him. Until she wasn't, and he didn't think he had ever needed her more.