𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨

Chapter 21 - I'm done.

29th September 2022
Mapi pov present
The afternoon sun bathes the kitchen in a soft, warm light. I’m sitting at the table, fingers tracing the edge of my coffee cup as I stare out the window. The view of the city beyond our apartment always calms me, the bustle of life below feeling like a distant hum from up here. But today, my thoughts are heavy. Heavier than they’ve been in a long time. I’ve rehearsed this conversation a thousand times in my head. I’ve run over every possible word choice, imagined how Chloé might react, and still, here I am, paralyzed by the weight of the decision I’ve made. The only thing louder than the silence is the pounding of my heart. From the living room, I hear her soft laugh as she talks on the phone with one of her French national teammates. Even that little sound of joy reminds me why this conversation is necessary. I remind myself that what I’m about to do isn’t just for me. It’s for us, for our future. But still, the fear gnaws at me, like I’m about to tear apart something we’ve built so carefully.

I take a deep breath, wrapping both hands around my cup for comfort. Chloé finishes her call and walks into the kitchen, her face bright from whatever news she just heard. She spots me sitting at the table, clearly deep in thought, and her smile fades into concern. “Mapi?” she asks, her voice soft, as she walks over to me. She gently touches my shoulder. “Is everything okay?” I nod, but it’s more of a reflex than an answer. I look up at her, at the way her eyes search mine with love and worry. She’s still in her training clothes from this morning’s session, her skin glowing with that post-practice flush. I smile at her, though it’s small and brief. “Come sit with me,” I say, patting the chair next to me. She frowns slightly but sits down without questioning me further. We’ve never been the ones that beat around the bush with each other, so she knows something serious is coming. “I’ve been thinking,” I begin, my voice is low. “About football. About... everything.”

Chloé tilts her head slightly, waiting for me to continue, but I see the flicker of concern deepen in her eyes. She reaches out and takes my hand in hers, her thumb stroking the back of my hand in that familiar, comforting way. I know I can’t drag this out any longer. “I’m retiring,” I finally say, the words coming out all at once, a breathless confession. “From international football.” Her eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across her face. She doesn’t say anything at first, which somehow makes the silence heavier. But then she clears her throat, her voice tentative when she speaks again. “But... why? I thought you were waiting until after the next tournament to make any decisions.”
“I was,” I admit, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. “But I can’t keep doing this, Chloé. Not with the Spanish Federation the way it is. The conditions, the treatment... it’s all too much. The way they treat us like we’re second-class citizens, like we’re just... bodies to fill a quota. I can’t be a part of that anymore.”

She frowns, nodding as she absorbs my words. She knows the things I’ve told her. Late nights venting about the Federation’s absurd demands, the blatant inequality between the men’s and women’s teams, the lack of respect we’re constantly fighting for. She knows what it’s done to me, to all of us, wearing us down little by little. “I’ve given them everything I had,” I continue, my voice trembling slightly as I let the emotion out. “And they still don’t care. We’re nothing to them. I thought maybe, just maybe, things would get better, but they haven’t. And I can’t keep sacrificing my mental health for a federation that doesn’t give a damn about us.” Chloé squeezes my hand, her expression softening. “Mapi, I understand. I do. I’ve seen how much this has been weighing on you. I just...” She hesitates, searching for the right words. “Are you sure? This is a big decision.”

I nod, feeling the certainty settle deeper inside me now that I’ve said it out loud. “I’ve thought about this for a long time. It’s not just about me anymore. It’s about us, about what kind of life we want to build. I love football, but I love you more. And I want a future with you that isn’t clouded by this... this constant fight.” She looks at me, her eyes searching through mine for something, and then she smiles. It’s a small, sad smile, but it’s filled with understanding. “So, this means... you’ll still play for the club, right?” she asks quietly, even though I think she already knows the answer. I nod again. “Yes. Club football is different. It’s what I still love, what I still enjoy. I’ll keep playing for Barça. But the national team? I’m done with that chapter.” She lets out a slow breath, then shifts her chair closer to mine, wrapping her arms around me in a tight embrace. I feel her warmth, the way she holds me like she’s trying to absorb some of my burden. I sink into her arms, letting the relief wash over me. Finally, after months of wrestling with this decision, I’ve made my peace with it.

“I’m proud of you,” she whispers into my hair, and I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “For standing up for yourself, for knowing when to walk away.” I pull back slightly, wiping my eyes quickly before any tears can fall. I wasn’t expecting to get emotional, but it’s hard not to when she looks at me like that. She’s my anchor, my home, my everything. “There’s something else,” I say softly, reaching for her hand again. “Now that I won’t be tied up with international breaks and all the travel... we can finally talk about what we’ve wanted for a while.” She looks at me, her brow furrowing slightly, then realization dawns in her eyes. A smile slowly spreads across her face. “Kids?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. I nod, my heart swelling as I watch the excitement build in her. “Yes. We’ve talked about it for so long, but there was never time, not with both of us constantly being pulled in different directions. But now... now we can really think about it. We can look into adoption, just like we wanted.”

Her eyes fill with tears now, but they’re the happy kind. She pulls me into another hug, and this time, I don’t hold back my own tears. We’ve both wanted this for so long. A family, a future beyond football. And now, with this decision, it feels like that future is finally within reach. When she pulls back, she’s grinning from ear to ear, her cheeks wet with tears, but she doesn’t seem to care.
“Mapi, I... I don’t even know what to say,” she laughs, brushing her tears away with the back of her hand. “I’ve wanted this for so long, but I didn’t want to push you before you were ready.”
“I’m ready now,” I say, my voice is firm and steady. “I’ve given so much of myself to football, to the game, to everything. But now I want to give that same love and energy to us. To our family.” She kisses me then, soft and lingering, like a promise of all the things yet to come. When she pulls away, she’s still smiling, and it’s contagious. I can’t help but smile back. “So... where do we start?” she asks, her voice full of excitement. “I mean, there’s so much to figure out with adoption. The process, the paperwork, the agencies...” I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in months. “One step at a time,” I remind her gently. “We’ll figure it out together. We always do.” She nods, but I can see the wheels already turning in her mind. She’s the planner between us.

Always wanting to organize and prepare for everything. And honestly, I love that about her. It balances out my more spontaneous nature. We sit together in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the moment, the peace that comes with finally being on the same page. I rest my head on her shoulder, feeling content in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. This decision wasn’t easy, and I know there will be days when I’ll miss wearing the Spain jersey, miss the thrill of representing my country on the international stage. But those feelings are outweighed by the freedom I feel now. The freedom to focus on what really matters. The life I want to build with Chloé. I look over at her, at the way her eyes sparkle with excitement, and I know we’re about to embark on a new adventure. It won’t always be easy. Nothing ever is. But we’ll face it together, like we always have. As the sun begins to set outside our window, casting a golden glow across the room, I take her hand in mine and squeeze it gently. This is the start of something new. Something that, for the first time in a long time, feels right. “Here’s to our future,” I say quietly, lifting my cup in a toast. Chloé smiles, clinking her cup against mine. “Here’s to us.”

Word count: 1586