𝐀 𝐁𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐔𝐬︱Pablo Gavi

57: Guilt and realization

Pablo's Pov

Training started as usual, but today there was an undercurrent of tension I couldn't quite place. My focus was solely on getting through the session, trying to push aside the thoughts that had been gnawing at me since the last time I saw Isabella.

The absence of Isabella was palpable. Her usual presence, a comforting constant in the chaos of our work, was missing. I couldn't help but think she was avoiding me out of spite. In my mind, it seemed like a cowardly move not to come to work just because I hadn't said the words she wanted to hear. I was wrapped up in my own frustration, convinced that her decision to stay away was a sign of weakness.

Midway through the training session, I overheard Lamine, Balde, and Ansú talking near the sideline. Their conversation was casual at first, but then I caught snippets that made my heart sink.

"She was in a really bad state, you know," Lamine said, his voice low and serious. "Pablo didn't just ignore her; he made her feel completely worthless."

Balde added, "She ended up in the hospital because of what happened. It's not just about her stress; it's about how he treated her."

Ansú chimed in, "He's the one who needs to make things right. It's his fault she's in this condition."

Each word felt like a punch to the gut. I had been so caught up in my own turmoil and reluctance to fully open up to Isabella that I hadn't stopped to consider how my actions—or lack thereof—were affecting her. The realization hit me with a force I couldn't ignore.

My chest tightened with guilt as the pieces fell into place. Isabella's absence from work wasn't just her avoiding me; it was a symptom of something much deeper. The panic attack and the hospital visit were consequences of the emotional strain I had inadvertently placed on her. It wasn't just about my feelings and my hesitation; it was about how I had failed her when she needed me the most.

Training ended, but I couldn't focus on the drills or the feedback from Xavi. My mind was consumed with regret and a desperate need to make things right. I needed to see Isabella, to apologize and explain myself. I had to own up to my mistakes and face the consequences of my actions.

I found myself heading to the medical room, to get any news about her condition. As I walked through the corridors, my heart pounded with a mix of dread and determination. I needed to find her, to tell her that I was sorry, and to show her that I truly cared.

The realization of my responsibility in her suffering weighed heavily on me, but I knew that facing it was the only way to move forward. I had to make amends and prove that I was willing to do whatever it took to support her, no matter how difficult it might be.

Ineeded to seek forgiveness and to begin the process of healing—not just for Isabella, but for myself as well. The path ahead was uncertain, but I knew that taking responsibility for my actions was the first step toward redemption. 

hoping to find some clarity, I walked in the medical room but instead of seeing any of the older physios i was greeted with Angie. She flashed a smile as I approached, her eyes lighting up with an eagerness that was both familiar and unwelcome. Her presence was a stark reminder of how complicated things had become.

"Hey, Pablo," Angie said, her voice sweet and flirtatious. "You were great out there today. Do you have any plans for later? Maybe we could grab a drink or something?"

I was barely listening, my thoughts consumed by the weight of what I had overheard and the realization of how my actions had hurt Isabella. I was caught off guard by her attention, but instead of feeling flattered, I felt a surge of frustration.