Good Luck, Babe! - Leah Williamson

24. Fortnight

Ella's POV.

I woke up to the soft light filtering through the blinds, casting faint shadows across the room. It had been two weeks since Christmas Day, and somehow, those two weeks felt like months. I hadn't seen Leah since that night—the night I packed up my things and left her house, and left her standing there, without really saying anything that mattered.

It wasn't that I didn't miss her, because I did. God, I missed her. But every time I thought about reaching out, the words got stuck in my throat. I was so tired of arguing, of feeling like we weren't on the same page. So, instead of fixing things, I did what I've always done when things get tough—I avoided her. I let the silence stretch out between us, even though it hurt.

New Year's Eve came and went, and while Leah went out with Ruby, Beth, and Katie, I stayed home. I told them I wasn't feeling up for it, that I needed a quiet night in, but the truth was, I just couldn't face her. Not after everything that had happened, and definitely not when I knew I'd spend the night overthinking every look and word exchanged between us.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts swirling like a storm. Tomorrow would be my first day at Chelsea, and despite the excitement of starting something new, the pit in my stomach wouldn't go away. Leah hadn't even congratulated me properly—not that I gave her much of a chance. We barely talked anymore. It was like the distance between us had grown into this massive, unspoken thing. And maybe I was partly to blame for that, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

Part of me hoped that Leah would have reached out properly by now, maybe asked to see me or talk things through. But instead, we let the space between us stretch and deepen, and now I wasn't sure if we'd ever find our way back to where we used to be.

I sighed and rolled over, checking my phone. There was nothing new from Leah, just a few missed messages from Ruby and Beth, asking if I was okay, if I'd come around soon. I'd dodged them too. If I couldn't deal with Leah, I wasn't ready to face the rest of our friends.

Tomorrow was supposed to be a fresh start, something to focus on besides the mess of my personal life. I'd always wanted to work in media, and now I was finally getting the chance. But there was this nagging feeling that, no matter how exciting this new chapter was, it wouldn't mean much if I didn't sort things out with Leah.

But sorting things out meant talking, and I didn't even know where to start.

I lay there, my mind racing as it had been for the last two weeks, replaying every moment between Leah and me—every fight, every sweet memory, every time I went out of my way to make her happy. It was hard, sometimes. Being with Leah wasn't always easy, especially with her schedule, the demands of her career, and the weight of everything that came with dating someone like her. But I'd never complained. I put in the effort because, to me, Leah was worth it.

I thought back to all the times I'd stayed up late waiting for her after a long training session, or when I'd made sure to be there, cheering her on, even when it meant rearranging my life. I didn't do those things out of obligation; I did them because I loved her, and I wanted to be her support system. Leah always had so much pressure on her, from football, from the public, from being the captain of England, and I knew how much it weighed on her. So, I did my best to make things easier for her, to be the person she could rely on when everything else felt overwhelming.

But now... now it felt like all of that didn't matter. As soon as something went wrong, as soon as I got something good in my life that wasn't about her, Leah didn't seem to show me the same care. Instead, she shut down, snapped at me, and made me feel like I was the one who had done something wrong.

The night she found out about Chelsea, she didn't even try to hide how upset she was - it was the way she reacted, like she couldn't stand the idea of me being connected to a rival club. I understood how it might've been hard for her, but what hurt was the lack of empathy. She didn't once stop to think about how I felt, about how much I had needed her support in that moment.