unexpected love (Leah Williamson)

Shadows of the Past

TW: SH 

Leah's POV:

Life with Ella had felt natural from the moment we'd agreed to move in together. We found comfort in our shared routines, each evening spent cooking, talking, and unwinding together. It was like a small, beautiful world we'd created—safe, steady. But that sense of ease was shaken one afternoon after training when I walked into the Arsenal locker room and saw Beth on the phone, speaking in a quiet, concerned voice. The sound of her voice was enough to make me pause.

"I know, Ella," Beth was saying softly. "But have you told her yet? Leah cares about you—she deserves to know what you've been through, don't you think?"

Hearing Ella's name made my heart jump. Beth, noticing me then, met my gaze and quickly ended the call with a gentle, "Alright, talk soon, yeah?"

As she turned to me, I could see an unease in her expression. "Leah... you're here." She hesitated, guilt flickering across her face. "Look, it wasn't my place to push her, but... she's been through some things. I just want to make sure she's okay."

A cold pit of worry formed in my stomach. "Beth, what things?"

Beth gave me a sympathetic look, choosing her words carefully. "It's not really mine to tell. But Ella's struggled—really struggled—in the past. And you've become such an important part of her life now. I think she's just afraid that if you knew... maybe it would change things."

That evening, after I got home, Ella was in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared dinner. She greeted me with a smile, but I couldn't shake the heaviness from Beth's words. I took a deep breath and walked over, gently touching her arm.

"Ella, can we talk for a minute?"

She looked at me, concern flashing in her eyes. "Of course. Is everything alright?"

I guided her to the couch, trying to find the right words. "I... ran into Beth today, and she mentioned that you'd been through some hard things. I just want you to know, you can tell me anything, Ella. Whatever it is, it won't change how I feel about you."

I watched her face change, her smile fading as she absorbed my words. A long silence stretched between us, and then she took a deep breath.

"There's a part of my life I haven't told you about," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's... not something I like to talk about. It's something I've worked really hard to put behind me."

I listened, giving her the space to continue, even as my heart tightened with worry.

"A few years ago, I was in a really dark place," she said, her gaze fixed on her hands as she spoke. "I was overwhelmed with everything—life, school, the pressure I'd put on myself to be perfect. I tried to handle it on my own, to just push through. But it got to be too much." She paused, swallowing. "I struggled with my mental health, Leah. And I ended up... harming myself. It was my way of coping, even though it hurt me."

Her words hit me like a weight. I reached for her hand, wrapping mine around it as she continued.

"I was so lost back then. I was ashamed, and I thought I could never tell anyone," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "But eventually, I got help. It was a long road, and there were setbacks, but I started to find ways to heal, little by little."

I squeezed her hand, my heart aching for her. "Ella, I'm so sorry you went through that. I wish I could've been there for you."

She nodded, a slight smile breaking through her sadness. "It's hard to talk about, even now. I was afraid... afraid you might think I was broken or fragile if you knew."

I pulled her close, brushing her hair back gently. "You're not broken, Ella. You're incredibly strong. You went through so much, and you're still here, still helping others. That doesn't make you weak—it makes you brave."

She let out a shaky breath, leaning into me. "Thank you, Leah. Sometimes I still struggle. There are days when the old feelings come back, but I've learned how to manage them now. Painting helps, and so does knowing that I have someone I can lean on."

My heart swelled with a mix of admiration and protectiveness. "You can lean on me, always. I want to be there for you, through everything."

As we sat there, wrapped up in each other, I felt closer to her than ever. There was a new level of trust, a deeper understanding between us. The next morning, as we lay in bed, I knew that this conversation hadn't changed how I felt about her—it had only strengthened my love and respect.

Over the following weeks, our lives continued as before, but with a subtle shift. Ella let me in more than she had before, and I was there to listen when she needed to talk, offering quiet support on her hard days. In turn, I grew to understand her strength, her resilience, and her ability to transform her pain into something meaningful.

One evening, as she painted, I sat nearby, reading but mostly just watching her work. Her strokes were precise, but her eyes held a softness, a peace I hadn't seen before. She caught me watching and smiled.

"Thank you, Leah," she said softly. "For not turning away. For just... being here."

I walked over, resting my hands on her shoulders. "Ella, I'm here for the whole journey—the good, the bad, and everything in between. You don't have to face anything alone anymore."

And in that moment, I knew that, whatever shadows her past held, our future would be bright. Together, we'd make sure of it, one day at a time.