You are my mums (a Lucy Bronze fanfic) - Book 2

Chapter 33 - I don't know

Rosie's POV:

The minute the whistle blew, that was it. No more chances, no more tactical changes, no more trying. The scoreline was fixed. Spain had beaten us 3:2 in a heart-crushing way. With minutes to go, it had slipped away from us - too far to recover.

Spaniards poured onto the pitch, congratulating their team on a historical win. They encroached upon us English players, filling us with numbness. We could've had that. So close and it was ripped harshly from us. But the reality is that we weren't good enough. I wasn't good enough, despite scoring a brace of goals. We couldn't hold on to the lead when it mattered and for that, we were punished.

Lying on the ground, facing the rainy night sky, I was indenial. Just like that and my Euros journey was over. A hattrick of goals from my Barcelona teammate was the reason for my despair. There was nothing worth standing up for so I allowed the pouring rain to embed me into the muddy grass. I was so broken that the tears remained behind my eyes - not even having the strength to flow down my face.

Someone pulled me up to my feet and helped my aching body towards the team huddle. But I couldn't hear anything. How could I focus on my coach telling us that we did our best when we had just lost. If we had done our best, we would have won. Pandemonium was unleashed in my brain as soon as the referee pointed to the Spanish goal indicating that they had won. I couldn't hear anything besides my own thoughts telling me that we weren't good enough. How is it possible that I gave it absolutely everything I had and we still lost?

Eventually we shuffled through the tunnel - heads down, dejected and exhausted. No words were spoken as we showered and dressed again. My emotions were all over the place : sad, angry, frustrated, lonely. I wanted to scream at the referees, demanding a replay, praying for one more opportunity to potentially change the scoreline. I wanted to blame my team - asking why I was the only one who provided the goals. But that would be unfair to hold them accountable when I was also on the losing team. Everything was blurry and mixed up, not making any sense at all. Why did it have to end this way?

No one knew what to do. Did we get back on the team bus to the hotel? Were we expected to do post-match interviews? When were we flying back home? None of us had the energy to question it, so we sat on the floor with blank expressions. Many of my teammates who had family in Estonia had disappeared off with them, so only those who didn't remained. My coach was no where to be seen, neither were any of the staff who travelled with us. We were all left to our own thoughts, and the deafening silence that seemed inescapable.

The dressing room door opened suddenly with a loud bang that made me flinch. My eyes still fixated on the ground, I could feel someone kneel beside me and grip my hand. Not wanting empathy from anyone, I pulled away. I could deal with this myself. It's only a game of football, I'll get over it. Instead of trying to grip my hand again, the person placed their body next to mine until we were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. Warmth and comfort was transmitted through our touching bodies.

"Semi-final losses are always rough"

The familiar voice of my mum rushed through every nerve in my body, shivers travelling down my spine. Was she really here? Or was I hallucinating? With my current confused state of mind, I wouldn't be surprised if it was the second option. I wanted her and Keira to be supporting me so badly that it was definitely possible I was imagining her sitting next to me. Slowly lifting my head, I was indeed faced with my mum, her brown eyes trying to catch eye contact with my blue ones. She hesitantly placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and I let it remain there - desperate for some comfort.

Squeezing my shoulder, she continued to talk softly, "You should be proud of your performance despite the loss. Without your two goals, it would've been a much heavier defeat". Raising an eyebrow that she had actually watched the game, she smiled, "Even if you're not proud of your performance right now, just know that I am. In fact, you make me proud every single day and nothing will ever change that. It's only your first tournament Ro, there will be plenty of opportunities to make finals and win". She carefully stood up, making sure not to put too much pressure on her knee, and held out her hands for me to take, "Come on, I'm certain Le will want to give you a motivational speech". Looking up at her face, covered in a wide grin, she pulled me to my feet.