(Danielle Van De Donk and Ellie Carpenter)
Danielle van de Donk stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of her Lyon apartment, staring at the rooftops painted gold by the setting sun. Her fingers gripped the edge of the windowsill, knuckles pale. The room behind her was half-packed—open suitcases, carefully folded shirts, and a box labeled "Memories" sitting silently on the floor.
She hadn't told Ellie yet.
Not properly.
Sure, they'd talked about the season, about what the next few months might hold. Danielle had dropped hints, left questions half-answered, hoping Ellie might read between the lines. But now it was real. A transfer offer, signed and sealed. She was leaving Lyon.
And Ellie didn't know she was planning to go alone.
The door clicked open behind her.
"Dani?"
She turned. Ellie Carpenter walked in, brushing windblown hair out of her face, her duffel slung over one shoulder. There was something effortlessly bright about her, even after a long training day—the kind of light that made Danielle's chest ache with both love and guilt.
"Hey," Danielle said, trying to sound normal.
Ellie's eyes flicked to the suitcases. She frowned.
"What's all this?"
Danielle sighed. "I got the offer. I'm going."
Ellie froze. "You're... leaving?"
"I was going to tell you tonight," Danielle said quickly, moving toward her. "I didn't want to say anything until it was final. It's just—it's a really good move for me."
Ellie dropped her bag to the floor. "Where?"
"Barcelona."
Ellie blinked, stunned. "Wow. That's big."
Danielle gave a small smile. "It is."
For a long moment, silence stretched between them, heavy and fragile.
"When do you go?" Ellie asked.
"Next week."
"Next week?" Ellie echoed, her voice cracking just slightly. "And you were just going to leave?"
"I didn't want to make this harder than it had to be." Danielle hesitated. "You have your own career here, your own team. I didn't want you to feel like you had to follow me."
Ellie shook her head slowly, eyes shining. "You thought I'd just stay here and let you leave without even asking me?"
Danielle swallowed. "I thought it might be easier."
"Easier for who?"
The words hung in the air like shattered glass.
"I just didn't want to be selfish," Danielle whispered.
Ellie stepped closer. "You think love is selfish?"
Danielle couldn't answer. She looked away, afraid her eyes might betray everything she was trying not to say out loud.
"I knew you were thinking about leaving," Ellie said softly. "I could feel it. Every time we talked about next season, you'd change the subject. But I never thought you'd leave without even asking me what I wanted."
Danielle finally looked up, guilt washing over her. "What do you want?"
Ellie's voice was firm. "I want to be with you."
Danielle's breath caught.
"I don't care if it's Lyon or Barcelona or the middle of nowhere," Ellie said, her tone gentle but unwavering. "I want us to be together. I love this club, yeah, but I love you more."
Danielle stepped forward, her heart thundering. "You'd really come with me?"
"Of course I would," Ellie said. "I'm not letting you go that easily."
Tears burned at the edges of Danielle's eyes. "You don't have to decide right now."
Ellie gave her a small, teasing smile. "Oh, I've decided. I made that decision the moment we started this."
Danielle let out a soft, shaky laugh, wrapping her arms around Ellie. The embrace was tight, filled with unspoken promises and overdue honesty.
"I was so scared," Danielle admitted, burying her face in Ellie's shoulder. "I thought maybe you'd be better off here, that I'd just be a distraction."
Ellie pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. "You're not a distraction. You're the reason I feel at home."
Danielle kissed her—slow and deep, a quiet thank you for all the words Ellie had just given her.
"Okay," Danielle whispered when they broke apart. "Okay. Let's go together."
They spent the next few days packing not just bags, but memories. Photos from their first match together, ticket stubs from concerts, little handwritten notes tucked into drawers. It all went with them.
The night before their flight to Spain, they sat on the balcony wrapped in blankets, sipping wine and watching the lights of Lyon shimmer for the last time.
"I'll miss this view," Ellie said.
"Me too," Danielle replied. "But I'm looking forward to a new one—with you."
Ellie reached over, lacing her fingers through Danielle's.
"Whatever comes next," she said, "we'll figure it out."
Danielle smiled. "Together."
In the morning, they boarded the plane—hearts full, hands entwined.
Whatever the future held, they were ready to meet it side by side.
