Best Mistake ︱Pedri González

12

Luciana's POV

It had been a week since Pedri and I crossed that line—a week of trying to bury the guilt and silence the constant stream of thoughts that gnawed at me every waking moment. Dante still had another week in Milan for his business trip, and the empty apartment felt suffocating. The weight of what I had done sat heavy in my chest, the guilt growing more unbearable with each passing day.

I decided to invite Pedri over, not because I wanted to, but because I needed to. We needed to talk, to figure out what we were doing. This couldn't go on like this. We couldn't keep pretending nothing had happened when it had changed everything.

I sat on the couch, waiting for him, my phone clenched tightly in my hands. My heart pounded in my chest as I heard a knock at the door. Taking a deep breath, I stood up and opened it, revealing Pedri standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking equally tense.

"Hey," he said softly, stepping inside.

"Hey," I replied, closing the door behind him.

We stood there for a moment in awkward silence, both of us unsure of how to start this conversation. I motioned toward the living room. "Do you want to sit down?"

He nodded, following me to the couch. We both sat down, a noticeable distance between us. It felt strange after what had happened, but I needed that space.

"I've been thinking," I began, my voice quiet but steady. "About us. About what happened."

Pedri ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor. "Yeah, me too. I've been a mess since... that night."

I nodded, feeling the same. "I didn't expect things to get so complicated."

"I know. Neither did I." He glanced at me, his eyes searching mine. "Esther stormed out after our fight. That night I didn't come home, she lost it, asking me where I was. I told her I was at Ferran's... and she didn't believe me. She left. Just walked out."

The guilt clawed at me even more hearing him say that. "I'm sorry, Pedri. I didn't mean for things to get this bad."

"It's not your fault," he said quickly, shaking his head. "Esther and I... we've been on rocky ground for a while now. It's not just because of you. There's been stuff building up. The way she flirts with other guys, the constant arguments... it's exhausting."

I looked at him carefully. "Do you really think you'll leave her?"

Pedri sighed, leaning back against the couch. "I want to. I'm going to. But it's complicated, Luciana. We're married, and divorces take time. It's not as simple as just walking away."

I nodded, understanding the weight of his situation. "I told Ferran... about us," I admitted quietly. "He freaked out, but he promised he wouldn't tell anyone. I trust him."

Pedri looked surprised, but after a moment, he nodded. "Ferran's a good guy. I knew he wouldn't say anything. Still... it makes everything feel more real, you know?"

"Yeah," I whispered.

We fell into silence again, the air thick with unspoken words. I stood up, needing to break the tension. "Do you want to watch a movie or something? We can just... hang out for a bit."

Pedri smiled faintly, grateful for the suggestion. "Yeah, that sounds good."

I picked a movie from Netflix and started it, and we both sat back on the couch. It felt strange, sitting so close to him again, but at least it wasn't as heavy as before. As the movie played, we both started to relax a little more.

Halfway through the movie, I stood up, needing something to do with my hands. "Do you want to bake something? We can cook tacos afterward."

Pedri chuckled, getting up from the couch. "Sounds like a plan. I could use something sweet."

We moved to the kitchen, the tension between us easing as we fell into our usual rhythm. It reminded me of when we used to hang out before things got so complicated—before we both had partners and feelings and so much to lose.

I grabbed the ingredients for brownies, and Pedri helped me measure everything out, his usual playful smile starting to creep back. "You always put too much chocolate in these."

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "That's because there's no such thing as too much chocolate."

He grinned, shaking his head as he stirred the batter. "You're going to make me fat."

I stuck my tongue out at him before pouring the batter into the pan. "You'll be fine. You run enough during training to burn it off."

We slid the brownies into the oven, and I turned to Pedri. "Taco time?"

"Taco time," he agreed, already pulling out the tortillas and meat.

As we cooked, the conversation shifted back to more comfortable topics—training, the upcoming matches, and Ferran's terrible taste in music. It was easy, for a little while, to forget the mess we were in. To just be us again. 

But as we sat down to eat, the reality of our situation lingered in the background, unspoken but ever-present. I knew this couldn't last. Dante would be home in a week, and Pedri's situation with Esther wasn't going to magically resolve itself overnight.

As we ate, Pedri looked over at me, his expression serious again. "I don't want to hurt you, Luciana. I don't want to make things worse."

"I know," I said quietly, looking down at my plate. "But we can't keep pretending nothing's changed."

He nodded, reaching across the table to take my hand. "I'll figure this out. I promise. I'll leave Esther, but it's going to take some time. I just need you to be patient with me."

I squeezed his hand, feeling a knot form in my stomach. "I'll try, Pedri. But we have to be careful. If this gets out... it could ruin everything for you."

"I know," he said, his eyes dark. "But I don't care. I love you, Luciana.  And I'm not going to lose you again."

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words settle over me. I didn't know if we were doing the right thing, but in that moment, it didn't matter. 

I wanted him too much to walk away now.