Not Without You

fifty-one

Leo

I never thought I'd find myself in a place like Stockholm, Sweden. Ever. 

After our plane landed, Mom and I met up with Rosa and Luke. Because Aria had practice early this afternoon before tonight's big opening game, they took us out for lunch and then showed us to our hotel, which is the same one they're staying in. I had thought we'd be able to stay in the same hotel as Aria, but apparently, the one they're in has been rented out for all foreign athletes. That's okay, though, because Mom and I have separate rooms. I have a feeling Aria had a hand in this, but I'm cool with that. It means Aria's able to slip away from the team and come stay with me for a couple of nights. Or the whole two weeks I'm here. Whichever she prefers. 

"Hey," Aria says, poking me in the side. "Where's your head?"

I slide my arm around her waist and pull her close. "Just thinking about what we're going to do while we're here."

"Well," Aria says, resting her head on my shoulder. "I'm going to be working my ass off in order to bring gold home for Canada. I don't know what you're going to be doing."

"A lot," I shrug. "Cheering for you, exploring, admiring the architecture."

"That's what you think, she replies. "Just wait until the jet lag hits you. You're gonna be suffering tomorrow, Leo. Mark my words."

I don't doubt her words. Although I'm excited to explore Stockholm and take thousands of pictures of their beautifully coloured buildings and cheer for Aria at every single game with Mom and Aria's parents, I can already feel the exhaustion setting into my bones. Technically, it's night back home in Newfoundland. I've only been here for a few hours. I can't imagine what I'm going to feel like tonight at the game, let alone tomorrow. "I'll figure out a way to deal with it."

"Of course you will," she smiles. "You always figure something out."

I have a response for her, but just as I'm about to say something, I notice that she's twiddling her thumbs, which is something she does when she's nervous. As I calculate what I can say to her to help calm her nerves before tonight's game, I look her over, taking in every detail. Because she wanted to display our country's pride while acting like a tourist, she's wearing her jersey, her name and the number sixteen on the back. Many people around us are staring, whispering about Aria Madden and Leo Sangster, the iconic Canadian couple. The golfer and the hockey player. 

I don't want anyone overhearing our conversation and potentially spreading rumours online about Aria being too nervous to play or something stupid like that, so I take her hand and pull her down the nearest alleyway. I have no idea where the hell I'm going or if this area of the city is safe or not, but we need to have this conversation.

"Where are you taking me?" she asks as we jog down the cobblestone surface. "To be murdered? Alleyways are iconic for murdering people."

"I'm not going to murder you," I laugh, stopping at the end of the alleyway. It's a brick wall, painted with some kind of mural. It's just as beautiful as the architecture of the city. "I wanted some privacy. People were staring at us."