OFFSIDE

98

❝ Sorry for not making you my centerfold. ❞
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Pablo's POV
The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the kitchen. I just got out of the shower and my hair is still wet. I'm only wearing a joggingpants, because it's very warm in the house. Thanks to the heating.

I stand by the fridge, scanning the shelves for something to eat, but there's nothing ready. My stomach growls in frustration. Elena usually has breakfast sorted out by now, but today, the kitchen is eerily quiet. No smell of coffee, no eggs sizzling on the stove. Nothing.

I sigh, feeling a wave of irritation rising within me. It's not like Elena to be this late with breakfast. I've got a full day ahead, and the last thing I need is to start it off like this. I close the fridge door with more force than necessary and make my way to the walk in closet to grab my favorite T-shirt. But as I pull open the drawer, it's not there. I rummage through the other clothes, my irritation turning into full-blown annoyance. Where the hell is my shirt?

My patience is wearing thin as I head to our bedroom. I can't believe Elena hasn't taken care of this yet. I push open the bedroom door, and there she is, still in bed, curled up under the covers like she doesn't have a care in the world. For a moment, I just stand there, watching her sleep. She looks peaceful, but I can't shake the frustration gnawing at me.

"Elena," I call out, my voice sharper than I intended. "Why isn't breakfast ready? And where's my T-shirt?"

She stirs slightly, groaning as she turns over to face me. Her eyes are heavy with sleep, and she blinks a few times, trying to process what I'm saying. "Pablo, I'm sorry... I just... I didn't get up yet," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

I feel a flicker of guilt, but it's quickly overshadowed by my irritation. "Yeah, I can see that. But I've got things to do, Elena. I need my breakfast, and my shirt isn't even clean."

She winces at my words, slowly sitting up in bed. She looks pale, her usually bright eyes dulled by fatigue. "I'll get up now and make breakfast," she says quietly. "I'm sorry about your shirt... I must have forgotten to wash it."

I sigh, rubbing my temples as I try to keep my temper in check. "Elena, this isn't like you. What's going on?"

She bites her lip, looking down at her hands. "I... I've been feeling really off lately, Pablo. I think I have a bladder infection. It's been hurting since two days, and I was planning to go to the doctor today."

The irritation that had been boiling inside me suddenly cools as her words sink in. I stare at her, taking in the way she's sitting gingerly on the bed, like even that small movement causes her discomfort. My frustration gives way to a surge of concern.

"Elena, why didn't you tell me earlier?" I ask, my voice softening. "I didn't know you were in pain."

She shrugs weakly, still not meeting my gaze. "I didn't want to bother you. I thought it might go away on its own, but it's just getting worse. I'm sorry I didn't take care of everything this morning, but I really don't feel well."

Guilt crashes over me, making my earlier irritation seem petty and insignificant. How could I have been so blind to her discomfort? Here I was, getting upset over breakfast and a shirt, while she's been suffering in silence.

I walk over to the bed and sit down beside her, taking her hand in mine. "Elena, you should have told me. I'm sorry for snapping at you. I didn't realize how much pain you were in."

She finally looks up at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. "It's okay, Pablo. I didn't want to worry you. I'll get up and make breakfast now, and then I'll call the doctor."

"No, you're not getting up," I say firmly, gently pushing her back down onto the pillows. "You need to rest. I'll make breakfast, and then I'll take you to the doctor myself."

She starts to protest, but I cut her off. "No arguing, Elena. You're not doing anything today except taking care of yourself. I'll handle everything else."

"Pablo. It's just a infection. I'm not going to die," she laughs. "You're training starts in an hour. I can drive myself to the doctor."

She is right. I can't miss the training.

I lean down and kiss her forehead, feeling the tension in my chest begin to ease. "I'm sorry I was so harsh earlier. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"It's okay," she says again, but I can tell she means it this time. "I know you didn't mean it."

I stand up and head toward the door, but before I leave the room, I turn back to look at her. She's already settled back into the pillows, her eyes closing as she tries to get some rest. I feel a wave of affection for her, mixed with a deep sense of guilt for not noticing her pain sooner.

"I'll be back with breakfast soon," I say softly, not wanting to disturb her. She gives me a small smile and a nod, and I quietly leave the room, determined to make up for my earlier behavior.

As I move around the kitchen, preparing breakfast, I can't stop thinking about how easily I let my frustration get the best of me. I should have noticed something was wrong. Elena is always so attentive, always taking care of everything, and the one time she needs me to step up, I almost blow it by being impatient and selfish.

I finish cooking and bring a tray up to the bedroom. Elena is dozing lightly, but she stirs as I set the tray on the bedside table. "Breakfast is ready," I say, trying to keep my voice light.

She smiles sleepily at me, and it's like a weight lifts off my chest. "Thank you, Pablo," she murmurs.

"Don't thank me," I reply, helping her sit up so she can eat. "I should have been more understanding earlier. I'm just glad you told me what was going on."

She takes a bite of the food and nods. "I'm glad I did too."

We sit there in comfortable silence as she eats, and I can see some of the tension leaving her body as she starts to relax. Once she's finished, I take the tray back downstairs and start cleaning up. My mind is still racing, replaying the events of the morning.

I can't believe I was so wrapped up in my own routine that I didn't notice Elena wasn't feeling well. It's a reminder that I need to be more attentive, to not take her for granted. She does so much for me, and the least I can do is be there for her when she needs it.

After cleaning up, I head back upstairs to check on Elena. She's lying back down, her eyes closed, but she opens them when she hears me come in.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"A little better," she admits. "The breakfast helped. I think I just need to rest before I go to the doctor."

"Good," I say, reaching out to stroke her hair. "Just focus on getting better. I'll handle everything else today."

She looks at me with those soft, tired eyes, and I can see how much she appreciates the gesture. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Pablo."

"You'd probably be a lot less stressed," I joke lightly, trying to bring a smile to her face.

She chuckles softly, the sound like music to my ears. "Maybe. But I'd also be a lot lonelier. Well last night was lonely."

I look at her and realise. I let her alone. In the dark. Alone. With a discomfort. With pain. Alone.

"I'm so sorry that I let you alone," I say in shock. "I didn't realise it was already dark. I'm so sorry!" I start panicking. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just read my book. It was okay, but it was not so much fun," she mumbles and I nod. I understand that and I feel guilty.

"I'm sorry Elena. It won't happen again."