A Bet That Changed Us ︱Pablo Gavi

37: moved on

Pablo's Pov

The day started off as I had come to expect—a blur of pain and regret. Being at Pedri's place was meant to be a refuge, a break from the chaos that my life had become after everything with Isabella. But instead, each moment was a reminder of how much I had lost and how far I still had to go to fix things. My injuries—a concussion and a sprained wrist—were a constant physical reminder of my failures, but the emotional wounds were deeper and more difficult to heal.

When Sofia arrived from Tenerife, she was a burst of energy that seemed almost out of place in my current state of mind. Her presence was both a distraction and a source of discomfort. Pedri had been a great friend, giving me space and support, but it was clear he was also trying to lift my spirits by bringing in someone with a more positive vibe. I understood his intentions, but I wasn't sure how to handle Sofia's presence.

She greeted me with a warm, bright smile that was both comforting and jarring. "Hey, Pablo," she said, her voice cheerful. "I've heard you've been having a rough time. I'm here to help."

I forced a smile, trying to appear grateful. "Hey, Sofia. Yeah, things have been a bit rough lately."

Sofia sat down beside me on the couch, her casual demeanor and flirtatious glances making it clear that she was here to cheer me up—though perhaps in a way that was more personal than I was prepared for. Her hand occasionally brushed against mine, and each touch felt like an uncomfortable reminder of how isolated I was from what I really wanted.

As the day went on, Sofia's flirtation became more obvious. She laughed at my jokes a bit too brightly and found excuses to lean in closer. Her compliments were frequent and pointed, and it was hard to ignore the way she seemed to be trying to cheer me up by appealing to more than just my sense of humor.

By the time evening rolled around, we were settled on the couch, trying to relax with some TV. Sofia's presence was intense—she sat close, her body almost touching mine, and her hand grazed mine every now and then. Her touch was gentle but persistent, and each time she brushed against me, it was a stark reminder of how unprepared I was to move on or engage in any sort of new relationship.

"Pablo," she said softly, leaning in so her voice was barely above a whisper, "I know things have been tough for you. But you've got so many great qualities. You shouldn't be so hard on yourself."

I was struck by her kindness, but it also felt like a bittersweet reminder of how deeply I missed Isabella. Her flirtatious gestures were a temporary distraction, but they only highlighted how much I was still hurting. Every compliment, every touch from Sofia felt like it was in contrast to the emotional pain I was grappling with.

Sofia's hand found mine again, and this time I couldn't ignore the weight of her touch. I gently pulled away, trying to maintain a respectful distance. "Thanks, Sofia. I appreciate it, but I'm really not in a place to enjoy this right now."

Her face fell slightly, but she tried to mask her disappointment with a smile. "I understand. I just wanted you to know that you're not alone. We're here for you, even if things are tough."

The evening wore on, and I found myself increasingly uncomfortable with Sofia's attempts to get closer. She was being incredibly kind, but it felt like an intrusion into the space I needed to work through my own feelings. I felt guilty for not being able to reciprocate her kindness in the way she deserved, but my mind kept drifting back to Isabella.

As I lay in bed that night, I was overwhelmed with a mix of emotions. Sofia's company had been a welcome distraction, but it wasn't a cure for the deeper issues I was facing. Her presence reminded me of the ways I was still struggling to cope with my mistakes. Each flirtatious comment, each touch, only served to underline how much I had lost and how far I had to go to make things right.