🎶 Wherever You Will Go — The Calling 🎶
It was Sunday now and Pedri still hadn't moved from my couch, except for some necessary trips to the loo. The only thing he was eating was ice cream and I had to do a late-night trip to the 24-hour supermarket to stock up on that as it was literally the only thing he accepted to put in his stomach. He refused to speak to me about anything else other than "I need more ice cream", however he did play with my daughters and kept them occupied, meaning that I could get some housework done. My bathrooms and kitchen were shining like new and I had caught up on all the laundry to wash and iron.
"Come on, girls, we're going out" I told them and clapped my hands.
"Where we going?" Blanca asked.
"Can Pedri come too?" Sofi asked.
"We're going to visit Papi, and ask Pedri, not me" I shouted back as I put on my outside shoes. I brought my daughters their shoes too and by the looks of it, Pedri wasn't coming. He had put on some old trousers of Rodri for my daughters' sake to not see him in underwear, but he was still curled up on the sofa with a sad look on his face. I just rolled my eyes and decided to ignore it - I acted like this when my husband died and lost a baby - and he's crying into his millions he'll earn anyways, regardless of him playing or not. I knew it was unfair to compare pain, but I couldn't help it.
We visited Rodri's grave and Blanca and Sofi told him all about the man sleeping on our couch - gosh, what was poor Rodri thinking when seeing these scenes from above? He'd probably be laughing his ass off at my attempts to keep the whole situation afloat. I cracked a small smile thinking of that - gosh, I missed him so much. He was really the only guy being able to handle me - and I liked being handled by him, it made me feel safe. With Pedri, I felt that I was the one that had to handle everything and... I couldn't. Because he wasn't one to be handled, he just... lived. And I didn't have the guts to let control slip out of my hands.
When I returned home, things had gotten even worse. Pedri had found my guitar and was now strumming awful melodies as he apparently didn't know how to play, still laying on the sofa with a toilet paper roll next to him that he apparently used as tissues. Oh God. Sofi and Blanca were also kind of weirded out and I knew that I needed to talk to him as soon as the girls were asleep. I whipped up some pasta for dinner, and even brought him a plate, but he declined, guitar still in hand.
After we finished eating, I started the bedtime routine with my daughters.
"Mami, how long is Pedri staying with us?" Sofi asked while I was preparing the toothbrushes for them.
"I don't know..." I sighed.
"Maybe I should draw him something, you were also happier when I drew you something after Papi died" she said and tears shot into my eyes now too.
"Yeah, I'm sure he'd like that" I replied, not actually knowing if it was true.
When I had put them to bed, I took a deep breath before walking over to the couch where Pedri was aimlessly zapping through my Netflix, starting a new show every ten minutes.
"Pedri... we need to talk. Sofi and Blanca are starting to get weirded out by... this... you" I said, pointing and waving at him and his circumstances.
"How did you act when Rodri died?" he huffed back and my eyes widened.
"You're not seriously comparing your little injury to me losing my husband and the father of my children!" I snapped back, really trying to stay composed here.
He swung up his legs and stood up to look me in the eyes.
"Yeah, you're right. Because it's me who's dying here. With every injury a piece in me dies, I have to watch powerlessly how life around me continues and I'm letting down everyone. You ever thought how Rodri felt when he died? Because I'm telling you now: It's not in your hands and you can't do absolutely nothing against it. You have to let go of the things you love and watch the world continue with you sitting on the sidelines. It hurts so, so much. You're letting down your loved ones and people who are relying on you. Of course I know that literally dying is worse than an athlete whining around about an injury, especially when I'm still alive and functioning fully, but for me - as a footballer - this is like dying." he said bitterly and I looked at him with tears in my eyes. I had never thought about what Rodri must have gone through in those last moments of his life, or now. I was convinced that he was up there, looking down on us but I had never seen it that way.
I slung my arms around Pedri's neck and hugged him tightly.
"I'm so sorry, Pedri" I whispered and crawled the back of his neck.
"I'm so afraid, Isa. It's like I'm living from injury to injury and we both know how Barca's financial situation looks like... They'll drop me to some other club, then they can't afford me with injuries either and I'll get dropped to second league, third division and so on. And I'll lose you" he whispered back.
"You won't lose me" I assured him.
"I doubt that there's much PR work to do for a third-division player" he scoffed and loosened the embrace.
"Come on, you can't live with thoughts like this. Barca e-mailed me your schedule for your recovery. You're starting on Wednesday" I told him and he sat down again, putting his head in his hands.
"Can I stay here until then? I'll be fine again when I go to the training center but... I don't want to manage being alone until then" he whined.
"Uh... Tomorrow is Monday, I have to work... and bring the kids to nursery..." I stammered.
"Perfect, I'll help you. I'll pick them up at 1 and take care of them in the afternoon. You deserve some time for yourself, get your nails done... or a massage... or whatever you girls do. Please, Isa, let me be occupied" he practically begged me.
"Erm... ok" I said and... he smiled.
He looked so beautiful when he smiled and I had to contain myself from not kissing his perfect lips. Instead, I put my hand on his cheek and softly stroked it. His face turned and his lips were on my hand now, planting a soft kiss on it. I pulled it away and leaned down to kiss his hair.
"Good night, Pedri" I whispered before turning around and walking to my bedroom.
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It was Monday and I had returned to my office, currently managing Pedri's September schedule. Even if he was injured, there were media duties and sponsorship stuff to do, next to his recovery. Suddenly, my phone rang and I saw that it was my daughter's kindergarten. Oh gosh, please don't let them be injured or something like that - why else would they call?!
"Vasquez?" I replied, trying to take deep breaths.
"Hello Mrs Vasquez, here's Elena from kindergarten. Um... there's Pedri here... Footballer Pedri - and he claims to want to pick up your daughters? He's not on the list of people allowed to collect them and... I wanted to call you and make sure that this was right?" the girl said and I let out a deep breath.
"Yeah! Yeah - it's fine. I work for him" I told her.
"Really?" she squealed. "Will he come pick them up frequently? Should I put him on the list?" she asked very excitedly.
"Uh... yeah - that's fine" I replied.
"Great" she squeaked and hung up again. Oh gosh, this would be the talk of the month now at nursery.
Pedri
The kindergarten aunt gave me her phone number 😏
Isa 💝
Congratulations
