Faulty Trust || Katie McCabe

07

Paris fucking F.C.

God, I think they'd just become my least favourite club of all time. Outside of Wolfsburg, obviously. I'd rather not talk about Wolfsburg.

I'm sort of glad I was subbed out late in the second half because if I had to take penalties, I'd go insane. They were my worst nightmare in so many different ways. Watching them through the borderline was worse, but I'd rather it be them than me. Maybe I was a little bit selfish. But I also needed to come out because of my hip; Jonas didn't want to risk me injuring it more.

An attacker from the Paris side has tripped me up and sent me flying where I landed in my hip. It hurt like a bitch, but I didn't say anything until halftime. Afterwards, it happened again, and that's when Jonas pulled me.

Walking the pitch to thank the fans was soul-crushing, honestly. We were a top English side; there's no excuse for us to be exiting the Champions League before it's even started. Everyone was disappointed and frustrated with themselves; it shouldn't have ended like this.

I watched Katie a few paces ahead because, why wouldn't I? She always had my attention. Though what caught my attention was her slipping off her shirt to give it to a travelling fan. A soft smile was forming on my face; no matter the outcome, she always made time for fans, and I loved that about her. Swiftly, I began walking towards her, waiting for her to walk back towards the group. Taking off my own jacket, I offered it to her as soon as she caught my eye.

A soft smile appearing on her face was enough to send me spiraling. "Thanks," she replied as I helped her into the jacket.

"Thought you were immune to the cold," I quipped, falling in step beside her. She rolled her eyes in amusement, no hostility to be found.

"Not lately." She hummed, turning her attention to the fans before stopping to head back towards the tunnel. Silence fell between us, but it wasn't strained. It was like we were simply living in the present, putting our past behind us. Though I could tell a big part of it was because she had nothing left in her. I knew how hard she was on herself when it came to losses. Even if it weren't her fault, she'd always carry the weight of the team on her back.

"You played well, Katie." I finally spoke as we neared our Scandinavians. "Don't let the loss go to your head. We're a team, not individuals." I squeezed her shoulder before breaking away to find Laura. Not glancing back at Katie, I wasn't sure how she'd respond to my words.

Laura gave me a soft smile as we walked down the tunnel together. "How's the hip?" She asked. Concern underlying her tone is making me sigh at how many people truly care about my hip pain now. The acl squad, Wally, Katie, no more telling people. At least if I didn't need to because I didn't want it to hinder how they viewed me as a player.

"It's fine, kind of achy if I'm honest, though. I'll sleep it off probably." Laura hummed in response, leaving me to change as she spoke to Viv and Beth, who were outside the changing room.

Once I'd finished changing, the room began to thin out, everyone wanting to get back to the hotel instead of lingering around the pitch we'd just lost our Champions League dreams on. The dim lights made my vision slightly blurry without my glasses on since I'd taken my contacts out, but I noticed a figure I could never mistake.

She was ready to leave but still sat on the bench. Casting her gaze downwards, like she was completely lost in her head, unaware of her surroundings. A empathetic thin line formed at my lips; I knew what it felt like. So before I could overthink my actions, I sat down beside her.

"Hey Katie." I started quietly, not wanting to scare her and risk being punched on accident.

She blinked and turned her head, realising who was beside her. "Hey Emely."