Across the Ocean With You - Kyra Cooney-Cross

Chapter Thirteen - The sacrifices we make

I woke up slowly, my body felt heavy, weighed down by the remnants of the past few days, but for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn't feel the immediate urge to rush to the bathroom. The nausea that had plagued me for days was still there, a dull, lingering discomfort in the pit of my stomach, but it was manageable—nothing compared to the misery I'd been dealing with before.

I lay there for a moment, allowing myself to simply breathe and take in the fact that I wasn't desperately ill. The room was quiet, peaceful even, and I could tell that Katie had already been up and gone, likely off to the gym for an early workout. 

I'd heard her moving around earlier, but I was still too groggy to even open my eyes at the time. Now, the suite felt oddly empty without her presence, the stillness amplifying the quiet sounds of the morning.

It was game day. The thought hit me suddenly, and a wave of excitement and nervous energy washed over me. This was what we'd all been waiting for, what Kyra and the rest of the Matildas had been working so hard for. 

The anticipation had been building for weeks, and now that it was finally here, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. All the families and friends in town for the girls has already had their moments to see their girls, with quick coffees and little lunch dates. 

However, I was isolated and still without Kyra. I knew she was right and I knew there were things in place if something like this was to happen, however it didn't hurt any less knowing everyone was with their person and I was locked away in a hotel suite. Not to mention Katie wasn't even a tough bit sick so the isolation felt almost pointless.

I sat up slowly, testing my body's reaction to the movement. The nausea was still there, but it was manageable, just a slight queasiness that I could easily ignore. I stretched my arms above my head, feeling the satisfying pull of my muscles as they loosened from sleep.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, taking a moment to steady myself before heading to the bathroom. The cool tile underfoot was a welcome sensation, and I took my time getting ready, moving at a leisurely pace. There was no rush, and I wanted to make sure I was fully prepared for the day ahead, both mentally and physically.

After a quick shower, I dressed in a comfortable outfit—nothing too fancy, just something that would keep me cool and comfortable before the match tonight. 

I checked my phone, scrolling through the messages that had come in while I was sleeping. There were a few from Kyra, sweet and supportive as always, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in my chest as I read them. 

She was focused on the game, of course, but she still took the time to check in on me, to make sure I was doing okay. It was moments like this that reminded me just how much I loved her, how much she meant to me.

I sent her a quick reply, letting her know that I was feeling better and that I couldn't wait to see her play. I kept the message light, not wanting to add any extra stress to her day, but I made sure she knew how proud I was of her, how much I believed in her and the team.

As I put my phone down, I had a moment of almost positive reflection the last few days had been rough, but I had made it through. I was here, in France, about to watch Kyra and the rest of the Matildas take the field, and I couldn't have been more excited. 

There was still a lingering anxiety, a worry that something might go wrong, but I pushed it aside, focusing instead on the excitement of the day ahead.

I decided to head downstairs to grab some breakfast, figuring that some food might help settle the last remnants of nausea. The hotel was already buzzing with activity, filled with tourists and families all gearing up for their days ahead. I could feel the energy in the air, it fuelled me.