see you later // Pablo Gavi

Chapter 64

~ Author's Note ~

Guys I will literally cry if Madrid beats Barca on Sunday... Things have been so hard lately, and the only thing getting me through all of it has been FC Barcelona, so if they don't win, I might just fall apart... I'm like so stressed that they won't win that match.

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈.

𝐀𝐒 𝐈 𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇, 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇, 𝐈 𝐌𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌, "𝐒𝐎 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐗 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃, 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐀𝐘?" 

He nods at this. "She told me that night she broke up with me, as she walked away from me, to her car, something like this: 'I don't really care, anyway, Pablo. I mean, I don't need sex with you. I mean, this whole time we've been dating, I've been sleeping with like six other guys anyway.'"

"What a b****! I want to beat her up! You beat her up after all that, right?"

He snorts. "I wish."

"Why didn't you?!"

He shrugs. "I was too brokenhearted to see her. And I'm not the kind of guy to hit a girl, no matter how much of a b****y girl she is. I decided the best thing to do was to just leave it be." I nod at this, rubbing his back gently. He says with another shrug, "I actually don't care anymore. It doesn't upset me anymore. I'm way over her. I couldn't care less about her, in fact. I nearly never think about her. The only reason I was upset was because... I didn't know what had happened with you. I thought Pedri had done something to you. And then I got nervous that after hearing that story with my ex girlfriend, you'd think I'm immature or a coward or something, and you wouldn't like that. I wasn't upset over my ex. I was upset because... Well, I thought you'd wanna be my next ex."

I nod at this solemnly. "Don't you ever worry about me wanting to break up with you, love. Don't you ever."

He nods at this, with a small smile, before saying, "You know, Ember, people always say, 'Nobody's perfect'. When I was growing up, there were some older people who'd say, 'Nobody is perfect. The only man who was ever perfect was Jesus.' And I probably agree with them," he pauses a moment, then gazes upon me for a few seconds, before saying, "But that doesn't mean that you can't be perfect. You're a woman."

I snort, rolling my eyes at this silly comment. "Oh, Pablo." We laugh a little together, which feels really good, after what we're sorting through with what Pedri said. After a few minutes of peaceful, alone, silence, I say, "Don't you have football training soon, baby?"

He sighs, muttering, "Oh, yeah, crap..." He checks his phone, before saying, "In about an hour. I should probably be getting back home to get ready for that. I can drop you back home, then, if you'd like. I imagine you probably have to be getting to work...?" 

Something gets lodged in my throat, when I realise I literally just skipped work, without even thinking about it, without even noticing it, because of Pablo. And I didn't even warn my boss or call anyone. I just simply didn't show up for my shift. Well, I'm fired, is all I can think. Oh well. I guess I'll just have to get another cheap job that will be just enough to pay my bit of the rent and buy the little bit of food I need. Those thoughts, though, definitely don't push out the blooming stress in me that I literally just skipped work. I say to Pablo, "Right, yeah, I... should be getting to work. In, uh, an hour and  a half is my shift, so it's all fine." This is a complete lie, obviously, but in this situation, I don't think this lie matters too much. In fact, it might be a good lie, because if Pablo knew I skipped work over him, he might feel bad or something, and I'd hate to have him feel bad. I mean, which is more wrong: Skipping work and lying or making your boyfriend feel bad and leaving him by himself? I don't know which is worse, but I'm just going to choose to think the second one is worse, just to make myself feel better. I stand up, and watch as he slowly stands up as well. He starts walking back over to the car, but he's walking stiffly. I can tell he has an ache in his leg, despite the fact that he's actually doing a pretty great job at hiding his limp and the pain he's feeling. But I won't let him hide it from me, "Pablo, you've got an ache? Why is that?"

"Oh, I don't know," he mutters, glancing at the ground, then to his leg, then back up ahead again, sighing deeply. "You know, it just happens sometimes. No big dea-"

"Oh, shut up. You've got training! You can't train with an ache like that! I'll come home with you, and before you leave, I'm massaging you. I hate to see you all stiff like that. But why, Pablo? Surely you know. And surely you'd tell me, right?"

He swallows, then shrugs simply, saying, "Came on me when I got stressed about what Pedri said to you. Hasn't gone away since. That's all."

"Alright, well you drive us back to your home, and I'll massage you before you've got to head to training, okay?" He nods, and we get in the car. While we're driving, I say, "I know you probably aren't up to do this, or don't want to, and that's understandable, but I think you ought to do this. At training today, maybe afterwards, can you catch Pedri? Ask him about it? Find out if it was a misunderstanding, or if he really lied. And if it was a misunderstanding, just explain to him what really happened? Please, Pablo? And do that without loosing your cool? Could you do that? For me? It's really important. I can't wait any longer to know what really is going on with Pedri."

He nods. "It'll be hard; I agree with you on that. But I also agree with you on that I'm way too curious to wait any longer than  I have to to ask Pedri about this... I'm a little worried, because he's my friend, and... Well you know."

I nod, and smile softly, saying, "Don't worry. I'll massage all that worry out of you."