𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒, pedri gonzález

20 ; the best of me

Packing my suitcase suddenly seemed far too strenuous. My body felt exhausted, even though I had been lying in bed for days.

Pedri anxiously put his arms around me and rested his head on my shoulder so that he could cuddle up to me.

"Is it still not better? You really should see a doctor, Enni." I shook my head wearily, really not in the mood for the ordeal of the truth, which would come to light after the vacation anyway.

"I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well last night." Humming, the Spaniard ran his warm hand over my arm.

It wasn't even half a lie, because yesterday it suddenly seemed impossible for me to sleep next to a man. The certainty that I was so vulnerable next to him hadn't let me sleep yesterday and that's why I was so exhausted today.

Ever since I found out a few days ago that my doctor would now be a man, I didn't like going there at all and that wasn't going to change.

Even if I was dying.

"Can I ask you something?" I looked seriously at the footballer, whose gaze was softening more and more.

As if he was expecting the worst.

"How would you react if I told you that we were bringing my brothers to us?"

Pedri took a deep breath and didn't answer me straight away.

"I think I would be happy about it. Children are a truly happy thing. I would love to have some." Cold and hot mingled in my body, almost taking my breath away. "But now is not the time yet." he added quietly, placing a gentle kiss on my lips.

But I felt as if he had told me that he didn't want me anymore. Something deep inside me told me that he didn't want me anymore if the truth came out.

Damn it, I didn't even know what the truth was. Everything was based on an assumption that could also be total nonsense.

I jumped up from my seat and cleared my throat to cover the fact that I had stood up a little too quickly.

"I need some fresh air," I muttered, opening the huge window of the balcony by his room and stepping out into the cool evening air.

It smelled of freshly mown grass and fresh rain that had been falling until a few minutes ago.

I gazed dreamily at the starry sky, which had never failed to soothe me even as a child. They twinkled between the eternal nothingness, trying to outdo each other.

"That's not what I meant," Pedri sighed behind me, but didn't come any closer. "It would be really nice to have your brothers with us... But I don't know if I have what it takes to play the father. What if I totally fail in my role? What if I'm just not cut out for it?"

Tears gathered in my eyes, brutally choking my throat, making me gasp for air.

Pedri was right. We were too young, too naive.

Because it was naive of me to think that everything would be all right again.

"I need a minute to myself." I pressed out, trying not to let on that I was on the verge of a breakdown, which had been building up inside me for the last few weeks.

My head felt like it was going to explode in a few moments and I didn't want Pedri to be there.

"Talk to me." he asked me, reaching out to me, touching my arm almost imperceptibly.

I flinched, even though I knew he wouldn't hurt me.

My mouth was agape because not a single word slipped past my lips when I finally wanted to tell him the truth. He deserved to know what had really happened —

Why I was so distant.

"I can't." I sobbed. My lower lip trembled treacherously as I turned to him, seeking the reassurance in his brown eyes that I was currently lacking.

Everything inside me was screaming to tell him what had happened, but I wasn't ready. My brain was reluctant to finally tell him what had happened.

To talk about it at all.

Because that meant I had to accept what had happened.

"It's okay." The Spaniard wrapped his arms tightly around my body, pressed my head against his chest with his hand and my upper body against his with his other. "You don't have to tell me anything. I'm not forcing you to do anything."

But I wanted to tell him, I wanted to pour my heart out to him.

"It's not that." I sniffled briefly, clutching the back of Pedri's shirt. "I can't talk about it. I can't. Every time I want to start, there's a block in the back of my mind that prevents anything from passing my lips."

I felt so infinitely vulnerable, even though I hadn't told him anything.

But now he knew that there was something he didn't know.

And he would try to find out what it was.

"I'm here." he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on my jaw. "You can talk to me, or not. But I'm here."

Goosebumps rose on my torso as the realization that he wouldn't leave me for something like this almost hit me like a slap in the face to wake me up.

Pedri was here.

He wouldn't leave me.

Or condemn me.

He would stand by me, not leave me.

And yet I couldn't get a single word out.

"You're the best thing in my life." My voice only came out of my throat like a croak, but Pedri had understood everything. He nodded and pulled me closer to his body.

We weren't in a position to confess our love —

But we didn't have to, because those words meant so much more than that.