Love-Love Lost

Chapter 1

Stepping through the weathered doors of the old building, I couldn't suppress a pang of nostalgia tinged with a hint of disdain. The place hadn't changed a bit since my first lessons here over two decades ago. Who would've thought, just a few months back, that I'd find myself back here as the lead trainer? Certainly not me. Not with a torn ACL threatening to sideline my playing career indefinitely. But the solitude of my apartment and the prospect of endless couch-bound days pushed me to accept this unexpected role. And let's be honest, the compensation package was hard to refuse.

Transitioning from the adrenaline of competitive sports to teaching kids the basics required more than just financial incentives—it demanded a seismic shift in perspective.

Lost in these ruminations, I was snapped back to reality by the sight of Maria, the academy's owner, emerging from her office. Her arms opened wide in welcome, a gesture that felt simultaneously warm and bittersweet.

"Daisy, it's wonderful to see you," Maria greeted me, her perfume invoking memories of a simpler time when I was just a timid girl finding my footing here.

Returning her hug, I smiled despite myself. "Maria, it's good to see you too. I'm ready to make some new champions."

Maria released me from her embrace and stepped back, her eyes appraising me with a mix of warmth and concern. "Let's get you settled into your room. The girls won't arrive for a few days, so it's just you, the other trainers, and our older students."

I nodded eagerly, reaching for my bag, but a janitor beat me to it, lifting it effortlessly. I followed them through the corridors, absorbing the familiar sights and the hum of activity around me before we arrived at a spacious dorm room tucked away in the rear of the building

Turning to face me, Maria gestured toward the room. "Here you are. You should know where everything is, but if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask me or anyone else here. After all, you're the new trainer in charge."

Grateful for her reassurance, I scanned the room. It was larger than I expected, with sunlight filtering through dusty windows onto a neatly arranged bed and shelves of equipment. The air held a faint scent of old wood and waxed floors, mingled with the distant echoes of past victories and dreams nurtured within these walls.

"Thank you, Maria," I said sincerely, turning to her with a smile. "I appreciate your hospitality. I'm looking forward to getting started."

Maria returned the smile, her eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and sympathy. "We're glad to have you back, Daisy. Take some time to settle in. The journey ahead will be rewarding, I promise."

They both hurriedly exited the room, the door clicking shut behind them, leaving me alone in the stillness. I eased myself onto the edge of the bed, feeling the coolness of the sheets against my fingertips. My gaze dropped to my leg, encased in the supportive brace that had become both a necessity and a reminder of my altered path.

Retiring after just six years in my career felt like a sudden plunge into unfamiliar waters. The room, dimly lit by the fading afternoon sun filtering through curtains, seemed to echo with the weight of unspoken thoughts. Shadows danced along the walls, mirroring the uncertainty clouding my mind.

Drawing a steadying breath, I pushed myself up from the bed, strands of blonde hair falling loosely around my face. With deliberate movements, I gathered my hair into a tight ponytail, a gesture that had always accompanied moments of determination and focus.

Opening my bag, I began the ritual of unpacking. Each item I pulled out carried its own story—jerseys worn during pivotal matches, trophies gleaming with memories of hard-fought victories, and photographs capturing moments of joy and camaraderie. The familiar scents of sweat and determination mingled with the faint fragrance of lavender from a sachet tucked among my belongings.