did what she had to do.”
I close my eyes, trying to think but my thoughts come up dry.
All I can do is feel.
That heart inside me, the one that wants to beat for her, the one I’ve trained not to.
It’s starting to stir.
For the last three months, I’ve done everything I can to put Thalia past me. I’ve turned her into a game in itself. First it started small. If I could go an hour without thinking about her, I won. Then it turned into a couple of hours. Then half a day. Then a whole day.
But I could never go the whole night.
Because she lives in my dreams. She stays there with me all night long, her ghost in my bed, and when I wake up, she’s the first thing I think of.
I miss her. I’ve missed her more than words can say, more than I dare admit to myself, because she shouldn’t have this hold on me anymore. She didn’t want me, why should I let her control how I use my heart?
But it’s been a futile fight.
She’s in me, deeper than my skin, living in my veins.
No matter I do, I can’t shake her.
Can’t erase her.
She is still the sun of my heart.
Only now that sun hasn’t risen for a long time. I’ve been living in darkness.
“So what am I supposed to do?” I say after the silence has settled upon us like dust.
Mateo shrugs. “I don’t know. But I can tell you she’s not with Manchester United anymore.”
That’s a relief. “Then where is she?”
Mateo looks to Luciano who then gives me a small smile. “She’ll be ready when you are.”
“Gentlemen,” the nurse says as she pokes her head in the door, smiling big at the both of them. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to let Alejo rest for the night. I’m sure you’ll see him tomorrow.”
Mateo comes over and shakes my hand, leaning in for a hug. “You have her, Alejo. If you want her,” he says to me. “Now get better soon. We need you. We all do.”
Luciano gives me a wave and the two of them leave.
I sink back into the bed, trying to make heads or tails of all of this.
I have so many questions, and I’m so hurt, and I’m so fucking tired, too. Nothing makes sense and it’s just too much for me to handle, even if I wasn’t concussed.
I fall asleep, knowing who I’ll be dreaming of.
The next morning, the doctor performs a few tests on me, just to get a rating of my concussion, and then he sends me home.
Mateo has sent Manuel to get me, as well as David, the physical therapist. With Thalia gone, David has been doing a lot of her work. In fact, Mateo never actually hired another therapist, saying we could get by with the ones we had and that he’d look into in the summer when all the trades are going on anyway.
“You happy to get out of the hospital?” David asks me as I step in to the sunshine.
From the way I’m breathing in deep, face to the sun, I’d say he has his answer. You’d think I’d been inside that hospital for years, not for a few days.
“Fuck yeah.”
He and Manuel lead me to the car and I get in the back, relishing my freedom. I am a little dizzy, I have to admit, but the doctor said this would be normal for a while. The most important thing is just for me to rest, which I hate to do. Even though my energy reserves are low at the moment, I know myself and soon I’m going to have all this excess fuel and no place for it to go.
Thank god for the pitch in the backyard. I can take it easy, shooting some balls there to start and then over time I’m sure I’ll be allowed to start training at Valdebebas. At the very least I’ll watch practice, but I find it so frustrating when I can’t just run out there and join in. And most likely, do it right.
On the way to my house, I make David fill me in on what I’ve missed the last few days.
He doesn’t give me much. He’s always been quiet. I suppose the team has been doing okay without me. Even with my injury, we ended up winning the game against Man United, which is a nice consolation.
Then I ask if there was any fallout after the game. Meaning, between York and