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The next few days after the dinner felt like an emotional rollercoaster for Summer. The conversation with Hector was hanging over her like a dark cloud. He had tried to reach out multiple times—texts, calls, even stopping by her apartment—but Summer had avoided him. She wasn't ready to talk, not yet.
She had thrown herself into her work at FC Barcelona, but even that wasn't enough to drown out the nagging feeling in her chest. Every time she saw Hector at training, his eyes seemed to hold a silent apology. But no matter how many times she caught his gaze, she couldn't bring herself to acknowledge it.
Today, however, things were different.
It was a calm Saturday morning, and the air was thick with anticipation. FC Barcelona had an important match later that evening—one that Marc and Pau were both starting in. Summer had been at the training facility all morning, taking notes on the team's tactics and observing the coaches' strategies. It wasn't glamorous, but it was fulfilling.
The entire team had gathered for a pre-game briefing, and Summer found herself standing at the back of the room, blending into the background as usual. But her eyes kept drifting to Hector, who sat at the front with the rest of the players. His focus was intense, but every now and then, his eyes would flicker toward her, only for her to look away.
After the meeting ended, the players dispersed, each heading to different parts of the building to prepare for the match. Summer was heading out the door when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned, expecting to see Marc or Pau, but it was Hector.
"Can we talk?" he asked, his voice low. There was something in his eyes—something she couldn't quite place.
Summer hesitated but nodded. She led him outside, away from the bustling locker room and the other players. The two of them stood in a quiet corner of the facility, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the scene.
