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s i x t e e n

I wake up to the harsh sound of my alarm, jolting me from a restless sleep. Today is my last day in Germany, and as much as I have enjoyed my time with Kenan, the looming return to Italy fills me with dread. I know I have pushed my luck by taking extra days off, and I can only imagine rhetorical reception I will get back at work. I just hope my boss did not see any articles about Kenan and me. Kenan is already up, staring out the window at the city below. The morning light casts a soft glow on his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw. He looked absolutely breathtaking. He turns when he hears me stir.

"Morning." He says, his voice clipped. "Ready for your flight?"

"As ready as I will ever be," I reply, forcing a smile. "Let's not drag it out, okay?" We pack in silence, each lost in our thoughts. The drive to the airport is similarly quiet, punctuated only by the occasional sigh or the hum of the radio. When we arrive, Kenan helps me with my luggage, and we walk to the security checkpoint. "Take care of yourself,Mine." He tells me, his eyes serious. "And call me as soon as you land." He places one of his kisses on top of my forehead. Can't repeat often enough how much I love this. "I will," I promise him. "Good luck with the rest of the tournament. Make me proud and score some goals." With a final, long and tight hug, I turn and head through security, not daring to look back. I don't trust myself not to run back to him if I do.

The flight back to Italy feels interminable. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, and I can't seem to settle on any one thing. By the time we land, Im exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I catch a cab back to my apartment and spend the evening unpacking and preparing for work the next day. I know I have to face the consequences of my actions -if my boss saw the articles, and saw me totally healthy in the stadium- and Im bracing myself for the worst.

The next morning, I walk into the café with a heavy heart. Chill, maybe he didn't even saw the photos. My boss, Marco, is waiting for me by the counter, his arms crossed and his expression stormy. "Mine, we need to talk." He says, his tone leaving no room for argument. Great, I am definitely sucked. I follow into the back office,my stomach twisting with anxiety. As soon as the door closes, he rounds on me. "I have been hearing and seeing things,Mine." he starts to speak, his voice tight with barely suppressed anger. "You told me you were sick, but I have seen tons of photos and articles. You were in Germany with your famous boyfriend."

"I...Marco, I can explain-"

"Save it," he snaps back. "Do you have any idea what kind of position you have put me in? Customers have been asking about you, the media has been calling. You have turned my café into a circus. They all found out about you and where you work!"

"I am sorry, I didn't mean for any of this to happen-"

"But it did happen." He interrupts, what an ass. "And now I have to clean up your mess. I can't have someone working here who's going to cause this kind of disruption." My heart sinks. "Are you firing me?"

"Yes." he says, without hesitation. What if I would just punch him right in his face? "Effective immediately. I will have your final paycheck ready by the end of the day. Now get your things and go." I nod, too stunned to argue. Open your damn mouth,Mine. I gather my belongings from the back room, my mind racing. As I leave the café, I feel a mix of anger and despair. This wasn't how I envisioned my return.

Once outside, I pull out my phone and dial Kenans number. He answers on the second ring. "Mine? Is everything okay?"

"No." I say, my voice breaking. "Marco fired me. He found out I wasn't sick, that I was with you. He read and saw all the articles about us."
There is a pause on the other end. "I am so sorry. What are you going to do?"