Chapter 1
Viv sighed as she stepped out of the cab, rolling her bag behind her as she approached the front door of her house. Well, hers and Beth’s. And, now, Steph’s too.
She didn’t mind Steph living there—not really. After everything Beth had been through, it made sense. They both had rough breakups, both needed someone to lean on, and somewhere along the way, it just worked that Steph moved in.
But if Viv was being completely honest, it did bother her—just a little—that Beth hadn’t really talked to her about it beforehand. It wasn’t a discussion. It wasn’t "Hey, Viv, what do you think about Steph staying here?" It was more of an "Oh, Steph’s moving in, by the way."
Viv hadn’t pushed back. She had told herself it didn’t matter. That Beth needed this. That she was overthinking it.
And she had bigger things to think about anyway.
Like the fact that her knee was wrecked again.
Viv hadn’t told Beth yet. Hadn’t told her about the pain creeping back in, hadn’t told her about the tests, the conversations, the inevitable surgery looming over her head. Hadn’t told her that she was pulled from the squad for the next few games. That she was here because she had no other choice.
Not yet.
Viv adjusted her bag in one hand, unlocking the door with the other. It was early evening, the warmth of home hitting her as she stepped inside. The scent of tea lingered in the air, the TV hummed softly in the background.
She barely had time to set her bag down before she spotted Beth curled up on the couch, legs tucked under her as she stared at the screen, half-distracted. Steph was in the armchair nearby, a book open in her lap, one knee propped up as she read.
Before Viv could say a word, Beth turned, saw her—and immediately jumped up from the couch.
“Viv?!” Beth’s voice was full of surprise, eyes widening.
Before she could answer, Beth was on her, throwing her arms around her neck, pressing a quick but eager kiss to her lips.
Viv let out a quiet chuckle, glancing over Beth’s shoulder at Steph. “Hey, Steph.”
Steph gave a small nod and a smile, lifting her book slightly in greeting. “Hey, nice to see you.”
Viv barely had time to respond before Myle came running, tail wagging furiously.
“Hey, baby,” Viv murmured, crouching slightly to pet her, the dog practically vibrating with excitement.
Beth, still clinging onto her, asked, a little breathless now, “Wait—but why are you here? I thought you weren’t coming yet.” She pulled back slightly, looking at Viv like she was trying to make sense of it. “And—you have a game, don’t you?”
Viv nodded, standing upright again, keeping her voice light. “Yeah, I just have a few days off, so… obviously, I came here.”
Beth studied Viv for a moment, her brows drawing together slightly. Something felt… off. The way Viv had said it—just a few days off—was too casual. Too careful.
She wasn’t sure why she felt it. Maybe it was just that she knew Viv too well—knew the small shifts in her posture, the way her voice changed ever so slightly when she wasn’t saying everything.
But Beth didn’t press. Not yet.
Instead, she exhaled softly, letting her hands slide from Viv’s shoulders to her waist as she leaned in.
“Well, whatever the reason,” she murmured, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to Viv’s lips, “I’m really happy you’re here.”
She felt Viv relax slightly under her touch, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little as she kissed back.
Beth pulled away with a small smile, rubbing her thumb over the fabric of Viv’s shirt before glancing toward the kitchen. “Steph and I were actually about to make pasta for dinner.”
She tilted her head slightly, eyes warm as she added, “Wanna help?”
Viv huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah, sure—just let me put my stuff in the room first.”
Beth nodded, giving her waist a gentle squeeze before finally letting her go. “Alright, don’t take too long, or Steph’s gonna make me do all the work.”
Steph, who had absolutely heard that, lifted her book lazily. “Excuse me? I was literally about to start cooking before you.”
Beth rolled her eyes playfully, already moving toward the kitchen. “Uh-huh. Just saying, if you leave me with the onions, I’ll actually die.”
By the time Viv stepped back into the kitchen, Beth and Steph were already deep in conversation—something about Arsenal’s training, some new drill they were doing, whether it was genius or a complete waste of time.
Viv didn’t bother keeping up.
She heard the words but didn’t really listen. Didn’t want to.
Arsenal still felt… complicated. And right now, she didn’t have the energy to think about it, let alone talk about it. So she tuned it out, let their conversation fade into background noise, and focused on what was in front of her instead.
Chopping. Dicing. Cooking.
The repetitive motion was easier than engaging, the rhythmic thunk of the knife against the cutting board giving her something to focus on.
At least, until she hit a problem.
Viv reached for a bowl—except, it wasn’t there.
She frowned, glancing up at the cabinet where it had always been. Opened it. Nothing.
She tried another cabinet. Still nothing.
After another minute of quietly searching, Beth finally noticed.
“What are you looking for?” she asked, stirring the sauce, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder.
Viv sighed, shutting the cabinet she had just opened. “Bowls. They used to be here.” She pointed toward the cupboard near the stove, where they had always been.
Beth made a small sound of realization, her lips twitching like she had just remembered something. “Oh. Yeah. I, uh… I rearranged the kitchen last week.”
Viv stared at her. “Why?”
Beth shrugged like it was no big deal. “I was bored.”
Steph, who had been mostly quiet, finally looked up from where she was leaning against the counter. “I got home, and everything was out,” she said, shaking her head. “Looked like a crime scene.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Okay, it was not that dramatic.”
Steph smirked. “Took me twenty minutes to find the tea bags.”
Viv exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. “So… where are the bowls now?”
Beth pointed toward a completely different cabinet, across the kitchen. “There.”
Viv walked over, opened it, and found them. No logic. None at all.
She grabbed a bowl anyway, muttering under her breath, “I leave for a few weeks, and you completely ruin my system.”
Beth bumped her hip lightly against Viv’s, grinning. “Our system.”
Viv huffed but didn’t pull away, just shook her head and went back to chopping.
Beth leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to Viv’s shoulder before turning back to the stove. “You’ll get used to it.”
Dinner was warm, the room filled with the quiet clinking of cutlery and the occasional burst of laughter from Steph and Beth as they bounced between topics. Viv, though, barely said a word.
Viv wasn’t really listening.
She twirled her fork through the pasta, rolling the noodles around absentmindedly but barely taking a bite. Normally, she’d have had something to say by now—either about the food, or about how Beth always used too much sauce, or about the way Steph still managed to somehow mess up boiling pasta despite living in London for years.
But tonight?
She just… didn’t have the energy.
Her mind was too full, too occupied with things she didn’t want to talk about. Her knee. The surgery. How the hell she was supposed to tell Beth.
It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to worry her—it was that she didn’t even know how to start the conversation.
She pushed her food around her plate again, her appetite completely gone.
Beth must have noticed because she suddenly paused mid-conversation, glancing over at Viv with a raised brow. “Is it that bad?”
Viv blinked, looking up. “What?”
Beth gestured toward Viv’s plate with her fork. “The food. You’ve barely eaten.”
Steph looked over too, chewing as she observed. “Yeah, you’re usually the first to go back for seconds.”
Viv exhaled through her nose, shifting slightly in her chair, like she could physically shake off the attention. “Just not that hungry.”
Beth’s eyes narrowed just a little, like she wanted to say something else, but instead, she just hummed, dragging her fork through the last of the sauce on her plate.
Viv could feel her watching, though.
So, to make it seem normal, she forced herself to take another bite. It tasted good—she knew it did—but it felt like nothing in her mouth.
She let her gaze drift around the room, needing some kind of distraction.
And that’s when she noticed it.
The house looked… different.
Not anything major, but enough for her to feel it.
There was a new jar sitting on the side table by the couch. Small, ceramic, definitely something Beth had picked out.
Viv had never seen it before.
Her eyes flickered to the curtains in the living room—also different. Lighter. New. She remembered talking about replacing them a while ago, but she hadn’t expected Beth to actually change them without mentioning it.
It wasn’t like the house had been completely transformed or anything, but still… it felt off.
Like Beth had been making changes.
Without her.
Viv swallowed, suddenly feeling like she was somewhere unfamiliar—like she had stepped into a version of their home that had moved forward without her.
She set her fork down quietly, rubbing her palm along her thigh, forcing herself not to overthink it.
It’s just curtains. Just a jar.
It’s not that deep.
After dinner, they naturally drifted to the living room.
Steph took her usual spot in the armchair, legs tucked up underneath her as she scrolled through her phone, half-listening to whatever Beth was saying. Viv sat down on the couch, sinking into the cushions as Beth settled in beside her, tugging a blanket over both of them without a second thought.
Viv didn’t mind.
She liked this part—the way Beth fit against her so easily, the warmth of her arm draped around Viv’s stomach, the way her fingers brushed absentmindedly over the fabric of her hoodie. It was familiar. Comfortable. It made everything else feel a little quieter.
Beth grabbed the remote and started flicking through shows before finally stopping on Love Island.
Viv watched as the intro played, all slow-motion shots and dramatic voiceovers, the usual over-the-top montage of contestants walking into the villa in swim trunks and bikinis.
She hadn’t really been keeping up, so she wasn’t sure what season this even was.
A few minutes passed before Beth, still curled into her side, murmured, “So, what do you think of the new season?”
Viv blinked, glancing at her. “Haven’t seen it until now.”
Beth pulled back slightly, giving her a confused look. “Wait—what?”
Viv frowned a little. “I haven’t watched it,” she repeated, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “First time seeing it.”
Beth’s face scrunched in confusion. “I thought we talked about watching it? You said you wanted to.”
Viv’s fingers stilled slightly where they’d been idly tracing the hem of the blanket. She wasn’t trying to make this a thing, but something about the question made her stomach twist in a way she couldn’t quite ignore.
“I thought we were watching it together,” Viv admitted, keeping her voice light, like it wasn’t something that had been sitting in the back of her mind.
Beth blinked, realization dawning across her face. “Oh. Yeah, sorry—” She rubbed the back of her neck, shifting slightly. “Steph and I started the other day. I was bored, and we just put it on, and… I don’t know. I kind of forgot we said we’d wait.”
Viv let out a small breath, nodding once, quick and short.
“It’s okay.”
Beth studied her for a second, like she wasn’t sure if Viv actually meant that, before she softened, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of Viv’s head, her lips lingering against her hair.
“I’ll rewatch it with you,” she murmured, squeezing Viv’s waist lightly. “Promise.”
Viv just hummed, but she didn’t say anything else.
By the time the episode ended, Steph had disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Beth and Viv curled up on the couch under the blanket. The house was quiet now, the TV playing softly in the background, its glow casting shadows across the living room.
Viv wasn’t really watching anymore.
Her thoughts had been tangled up all night, and despite her best effort, they weren’t settling.
Beth shifted beside her, stretching her legs out as she absentmindedly played with the edge of the blanket. Then, like she’d just remembered something, she said, “Oh—Steph found an apartment.”
Viv hummed in response, her gaze still on the screen even though she wasn’t following the show.
Beth didn’t seem to notice her lack of enthusiasm. “She’s moving out soon. Said she wants to take us to dinner to thank us for letting her stay.”
Viv let out a small breath, barely a laugh. “She should be taking you to dinner.”
Beth turned her head, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”
Viv shook her head, regretting saying anything. “Nothing.”
Beth gave her a look. “Not nothing. Tell me.”
Viv exhaled slowly, fingers idly picking at the hem of the blanket, her body tense even though she was trying not to show it. “I don’t mind her being here,” she said carefully, choosing her words. “But I would’ve liked to have been asked. Not just told she was moving in.”
Beth blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Wait—” She sat up a little. “Are you saying you didn’t want her here?”
Viv sighed. “That’s not what I said.”
Beth narrowed her eyes. “Then what are you saying?”
Viv shifted, uncomfortable under the sudden weight of the conversation. “I just mean… one day I called you, and you told me she was moving in. Like it was already decided. You never even asked if I was okay with it.”
Beth frowned, like she was trying to recall how it had happened. “I mean… yeah, I guess I just assumed it was fine?”
Viv let out a quiet, humorless chuckle, shaking her head. “Exactly.”
Beth scoffed, leaning back against the couch. “Viv, it’s Steph. She needed a place to stay. It wasn’t some huge decision, it was just the obvious thing to do.”
Viv nodded once, sharp and short. “Yeah. For you.”
Beth exhaled, rubbing a hand over her forehead. “Come on. You weren’t even here, you were in Manchester. What was I supposed to do, call and ask for permission?”
Viv clenched her jaw, the words hitting her just right, rubbing against something that had already been bothering her.
“I don’t know,” she muttered, voice lower now. “Maybe just tell me before it was already happening.”
Beth frowned. “I did tell you.”
Viv shook her head, tired now, voice quieter. “You didn’t ask me.”
Beth’s frustration grew. “So, what, this has been bothering you the whole time and you just never said anything?”
Viv didn’t answer right away, but her silence was enough.
Beth scoffed, shaking her head. “Jesus, Viv. You could’ve just told me.”
Viv rubbed a hand over her thigh, exhaling slowly. “It wasn’t worth bringing up.”
Beth let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Clearly it was, because you just did.”
Viv pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek, not looking at her now.
Beth studied her, eyes scanning her face, searching for something else. Something more. And then she asked, “Do you even want her here?”
Viv hesitated, just for a second, before shaking her head. “That’s not the point.”
Beth’s jaw tightened. “No, it kind of is.”
Viv sighed, rubbing at her temple. “I don’t mind that she’s been here.”
Beth gave her a look. “Then what’s the problem?”
By the time the episode ended, Steph had disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Beth and Viv curled up on the couch under the blanket. The house was quiet now, the TV playing softly in the background, its glow casting shadows across the living room.
Viv wasn’t really watching anymore.
Her thoughts had been tangled up all night, and despite her best effort, they weren’t settling.
Beth shifted beside her, stretching her legs out as she absentmindedly played with the edge of the blanket. Then, like she’d just remembered something, she said, “Oh—Steph found an apartment.”
Viv hummed in response, her gaze still on the screen even though she wasn’t following the show.
Beth didn’t seem to notice her lack of enthusiasm. “She’s moving out soon. Said she wants to take us to dinner to thank us for letting her stay.”
Viv let out a small breath, barely a laugh. “She should be taking you to dinner.”
Beth turned her head, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”
Viv shook her head, regretting saying anything. “Nothing.”
Beth gave her a look. “Not nothing. Tell me.”
Viv exhaled slowly, fingers idly picking at the hem of the blanket, her body tense even though she was trying not to show it. “I don’t mind her being here,” she said carefully, choosing her words. “But I would’ve liked to have been asked. Not just told she was moving in.”
Beth blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Wait—” She sat up a little. “Are you saying you didn’t want her here?”
Viv sighed. “That’s not what I said.”
Beth narrowed her eyes. “Then what are you saying?”
Viv shifted, uncomfortable under the sudden weight of the conversation. “I just mean… one day I called you, and you told me she was moving in. Like it was already decided. You never even asked if I was okay with it.”
Beth frowned, like she was trying to recall how it had happened. “I mean… yeah, I guess I just assumed it was fine?”
Viv let out a quiet, humorless chuckle, shaking her head. “Exactly.”
Beth scoffed, leaning back against the couch. “Viv, it’s Steph. She needed a place to stay. It wasn’t some huge decision, it was just the obvious thing to do.”
Viv nodded once, sharp and short. “Yeah. For you.”
Beth exhaled, rubbing a hand over her forehead. “Come on. You weren’t even here, you were in Manchester. What was I supposed to do, call and ask for permission?”
Viv clenched her jaw, the words hitting her just right, rubbing against something that had already been bothering her.
“I don’t know,” she muttered, voice lower now. “Maybe just tell me before it was already happening.”
Beth frowned. “I did tell you.”
Viv shook her head, tired now, voice quieter. “You didn’t ask me.”
Beth’s frustration grew. “So, what, this has been bothering you the whole time and you just never said anything?”
Viv didn’t answer right away, but her silence was enough.
Beth scoffed, shaking her head. “Jesus, Viv. You could’ve just told me.”
Viv rubbed a hand over her thigh, exhaling slowly. “It wasn’t worth bringing up.”
Beth let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Clearly it was, because you just did.”
Viv pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek, not looking at her now.
Beth studied her, eyes scanning her face, searching for something else. Something more. And then she asked, “Do you even want her here?”
Viv hesitated, just for a second, before shaking her head. “That’s not the point.”
Beth’s jaw tightened. “No, it kind of is.”
Viv sighed, rubbing at her temple. “I don’t mind that she’s been here.”
Beth gave her a look. “Then what’s the problem?”
Viv didn’t respond.
Beth let out a humorless breath, shaking her head. “Seriously?” She turned more toward her now, shoulders tense. “Are you even gonna answer me?”
Still, nothing.
Beth’s jaw clenched. “Jesus Christ, Viv, just say it.”
Viv’s throat worked as she swallowed, but no words came.
Beth sat back slightly, frustration giving way to something sharper—disbelief, maybe. And then, her voice low and cutting, she asked, “Why are you here?”
Viv’s head finally snapped up, her brow furrowing. “What?”
Beth held her gaze. “You heard me.” Her voice was quieter, but no less firm. “Why are you here?”
Viv just stared at her, not following, or maybe not wanting to.
Beth’s frustration surged again. “In London, Viv. When you have a game tomorrow in Manchester. Why are you here when you’re supposed to be there? It doesn’t make any fucking sense.”
Viv stiffened, her body going rigid.
Beth watched her carefully, searching for the moment the truth would finally come out. “What’s going on, Viv?”
Viv inhaled sharply, pressing her palms against her thighs like she needed to ground herself. Then, finally—
“My knee is hurting again.”
Beth froze.
For a second, her brain just… stalled, like she hadn’t actually heard Viv right.
Then, slowly, she sat up straighter, putting a little more space between them. “What?”
Viv swallowed again, looking at her but not quite meeting her eyes.
Beth’s breath felt tight in her chest. “How long?” she asked, her voice sharp now.
“Viv,” she pressed, her voice like flint. “How long has it been hurting?”
Viv shifted slightly, uncomfortable. “A couple of weeks.”
Beth let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh, shaking her head. Then she moved even further away, the blanket pooling around her waist as she distanced herself from Viv. “And you didn’t think about telling me?”
Viv opened her mouth, but Beth wasn’t done.
Beth ran a hand through her hair, pushing it out of her face as she stared at Viv, anger and disbelief mixing into something volatile. “So, what, are you just resting next game? Is that it?”
Viv swallowed hard, shaking her head. “I—” She hesitated, then exhaled, like saying it out loud would make it more real.
“I need surgery.”
Beth’s entire body went still.
The words slammed into her, sucking all the air from the room.
She stared at Viv, her brain scrambling to catch up, to process, to understand.
But then—
"And you didn’t think about fucking telling me that?" Her voice wasn’t quite a shout, but it was close.
Viv immediately flinched, her hand coming up in a calming motion. “Please don’t shout,” she said quickly, her voice lower, more urgent. Her eyes flicked toward the hallway, where Steph’s bedroom door was closed but not far enough away. “Beth, lower your voice.”
Beth let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking her head as she rubbed at her temples. “Dont tell me to lower my voice” she snapped, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Viv sighed, already exhausted, her fingers pressing into the blanket as if trying to steady herself. “Can we just talk about this calmly?”
Beth let out another sharp breath, her head tilting back for a second before she looked at Viv again, her expression caught between anger and disbelief. “Were you even going to tell me if I didn’t ask?”
Viv nodded immediately. “Of course I was—”
Beth cut her off. “When? When, Viv? When were you gonna fucking say something?”
Viv pressed her lips together, not answering.
Beth scoffed. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
Viv rubbed a hand over her jaw, then finally spoke, voice quieter now. “I just—” She stopped, exhaled hard, then dropped her gaze to the floor. “I was just embarrassed. And I didn’t want to talk about it in front of Steph, okay?”
Beth snapped.
“Why?” she demanded, voice sharp. “What the fuck is your matter?”
Viv’s head snapped up then, her gaze flashing with something raw.
“My matter is that this has been fucking hard for me, Beth,” Viv shot back, voice breaking slightly. “I can’t play again. And everything is changing.”
Beth’s chest rose and fell sharply, her breath uneven, anger simmering under her skin.
“And you think it’s been fucking easy for me?” Beth shot back, her voice rough now, frustration and hurt laced in every syllable.
Viv closed her eyes briefly, shaking her head. “I know it hasn’t,” she murmured, voice lower now. “I’m not saying it has.”
Beth let out a breath, sharp and uneven, frustration bleeding into exhaustion. Her chest rose and fell quickly, her hands still tense at her sides. She shook her head, eyes burning, voice coming out rough.
"You can't just run away from things, Viv."
Viv looked at her, blinking slowly, but didn’t say anything.
Beth exhaled sharply. "You can’t just pretend things don’t exist because you don’t want to deal with them. Because you don’t have the fucking courage to talk about them.”
Viv’s jaw tightened, but her face remained unreadable. "That’s not what I’m doing.”
Beth scoffed. “No? Then what is this?” She gestured around them, the air thick between them. “You’ve been weird since you got here. Weird about Steph, weird about your knee—”
Viv’s voice cut through hers suddenly, louder this time, her patience finally breaking.
"Because of everything, Beth!" Her voice cracked slightly, her hands coming up in exasperation. “Because fucking everything is different!”
Beth stepped forward, anger surging again. “Is this about the fucking bowls?”
Viv stood abruptly, putting space between them, but Beth followed right after her.
Viv ran a hand through her hair, her breath uneven, frustration burning just beneath her skin. “It’s everything, Beth. The bowls. The whole fucking kitchen. The curtains. This fucking jar!” She motioned to the side table, eyes flicking toward it. “I walk in, and it’s all different. And I didn’t even know when it happened, because you never told me.”
Beth threw her hands in the air. “Viv, I live here all the time. This furniture? The way everything looks? I didn’t choose any of it. I never got a say in anything in this house. So forgive me for thinking I could finally change some shit around without needing your fucking permission!”
Viv shook her head, her voice lower, strained, desperate to get Beth to understand. “I’m not saying that,” she said, her voice calmer than before, though there was something deeply tired in it. “I’m just saying… we could have chosen together.”
BBeth let out a bitter laugh, the anger rising all over again. “You are being so fucking stupid right now. And a fucking hypocrite. You didn’t tell me anything about your knee, and you’re mad I didn’t tell you about a fucking jar? A fucking jar, Viv!”
Steph had been hearing raised voices for a while now. And for as long as she had lived here, she had never heard Beth and Viv fight like this.
Not once.
Now, standing in her room, the muffled yelling was impossible to ignore.
She looked down at Myle, who was pacing slightly, ears twitching at every sharp voice that came through the walls.
And so, before she could overthink it, she pushed the door open and stepped into the living room.
She froze the second she took in the scene.
Viv and Beth stood across from each other, the space between them thick with something unspoken, something heavy, like neither of them knew how to close the distance but neither could take a step back either.
Viv looked exhausted, her shoulders tense, her hands twitching slightly at her sides, like she was physically restraining herself from holding on to something—Beth, maybe. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was calmer than before, but there was something unsteady in it, something that made it clear this fight had already drained her.
"It’s not just about the jar, Beth."
Beth exhaled sharply, her arms crossing, irritation tightening her expression.
"Then what is it about, Viv?"
Viv shifted, glancing away briefly before bringing her gaze back to Beth. Her fingers flexed at her sides, trying to find steadiness in something that wasn’t there.
"It’s that I don’t feel like I belong anywhere. Not really."
Beth’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t respond right away. She just stared at Viv, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes.
Viv inhaled, her voice quieter now, more careful. “Maybe everything changing here hurt a little. Maybe… maybe the jar hurt a little too.”
Beth let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shaking her head in disbelief.
"The jar hurt you?" she repeated, her voice sharp, incredulous, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. "Are you actually serious right now, Viv? That’s what this is about? A fucking jar?"
Viv didn’t answer, at least not right away. And Beth didn’t give her the chance. Her anger, her exhaustion, all of it boiled over before she could stop herself.
With a single, forceful movement, Beth shoved the jar off the table.
It hit the floor with a sharp, splintering crash, the ceramic shattering on impact, scattering across the hardwood in jagged pieces. The sound echoed through the room, ringing in Beth’s ears like an alarm, like a warning she didn’t hear until it was too late.
For a second, no one moved.
Not Beth.
Not Viv.
Not Steph, who had frozen in the doorway, her fingers curled against the frame, watching the scene unfold with wide, tense eyes.
And then—Viv stepped back.
It was small, barely a shift, but Steph saw it.
Viv’s whole body went stiff, her shoulders tightening, hands twitching slightly at her sides. But it wasn’t anger. It wasn’t the way she moved when she was about to argue back.
It was different.
It was like she was bracing for something.
Like she had just been hit.
And Beth, too caught up in her own frustration, didn’t see it.
Didn’t see the way Viv’s breath had changed, the way she had started breathing too shallowly, too fast, like she was trying to hold something in.
Didn’t see the way Myle pressed herself against Viv’s legs, ears pinned back, tail lowered, sensing the sudden shift in the air, the way animals always do.
Beth barely took a breath before she pushed again.
"It’s solved then," she snapped, her voice rising. "There. Now you don’t have to be upset about a fucking jar anymore. Are you happy now?"
Viv didn’t answer.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t even look up.
"Say something, Viv!" Beth demanded, her voice cutting through the room like a knife, like she was desperate for a reaction, any reaction.
Viv exhaled sharply, pressing her hand against her thigh, wiping at her face quickly, like she could erase any sign of the tears before they became noticeable.
And Beth—Beth wasn’t done.
"It’s not my fault you can’t talk about things, Viv," Beth snapped, her frustration curdling into something bitter on her tongue. "It’s not my fault you can’t share what you feel like a normal fucking person does!"
Viv’s breath hitched, just slightly, just barely enough to be noticeable.
But Steph noticed.
Her stomach turned because Beth was pushing too hard, hitting where she knew it would hurt.
Viv exhaled, her fingers twitching, her shoulders so tense it looked painful.
But Beth, still caught in it, still furious, still not realizing the damage she was doing, didn’t stop.
She twisted the knife.
"You know what, Viv?" she said, her voice dropping lower now, thick with something almost cruel, something meant to hurt.
Viv’s head barely lifted, but Steph saw the way she stiffened slightly, like she already knew something bad was coming, like she was already preparing for it.
She just cared that Viv wasn’t answering. That she was just standing there, silent, taking it.
"You know what, Viv?" Beth’s voice was lower now, but it wasn’t soft. It was laced with something sharp, something bitter, something meant to cut.
Viv barely lifted her head, but Steph saw the way she stiffened, like she already knew something bad was coming. Like she was preparing for it.
"It's not my fault you can't play anymore."
The room dropped into absolute silence.
Viv didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Steph saw the way her throat bobbed, the way her fingers twitched like she had been physically struck.
Beth, still too far into her own anger, too far into her own exhaustion, didn’t stop.
"It’s not my fault you’re injured, Viv. Not my fault you can’t step on the pitch without your knee giving out. Not my fault you’ve barely played in the last two years."
Viv still didn’t speak, but Steph could see it now. The cracks forming, the way Viv was barely holding herself together.
But Beth?
Beth went for the final blow.
"And it’s sure as hell not my fault Arsenal didn’t want you anymore."
The moment the words left Beth’s mouth, everything collapsed.
Steph flinched, instinctively stepping forward, like she could physically stop Beth from saying anything else, but it was too late.
Viv visibly recoiled, her breath catching sharply in her throat, and Beth finally—finally—realized what she had done.
Steph didn’t wait.
"Beth, stop," she snapped, her voice firm, cutting through the air like a blade. She was already moving, already reaching Viv.
The silence that followed Beth’s words was suffocating, stretching between them like something thick and unmovable, something that had settled deep into the space they shared and refused to be shaken off. It was only now, as the last remnants of her anger drained from her, that she truly saw Viv—really saw her.
She wasn’t saying anything, wasn’t moving, wasn’t even breathing properly. Her eyes remained locked on the shards of porcelain scattered across the floor, almost as if she were frozen in place, trapped in the exact moment Beth had broken it. For a second, Beth wondered if Viv had even heard her, but then she saw the way her throat bobbed, the way her fingers twitched at her sides, the way her shoulders pulled in like she was trying to make herself smaller, and suddenly, Beth felt like she had been punched straight in the stomach.
Because she had done this.
She had been so caught up in her own frustration, so consumed by the fight itself, that she hadn’t stopped to think, hadn’t considered what she was saying or how much damage it might actually do. But now, as she stood there watching Viv, watching the way she barely even seemed present, watching the way Myle pressed against her legs like she was trying to ground her, trying to comfort her, Beth felt something deep and ugly claw at her chest.
She had been cruel. Not just angry—cruel.
Steph had already moved, stepping between them, her voice low and careful, gentle but firm—the exact opposite of how Beth had been speaking just moments ago.
"Viv, hey," Steph murmured, her tone deliberate as she took a slow step forward, not touching her yet, but making it clear she was there. "It’s okay. Just breathe, yeah?"
Viv didn’t react.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t even lift her eyes.
She just stood there, staring at the shattered jar like it was the only thing holding her together.
Beth swallowed, her throat tight, heart hammering uncomfortably in her chest as the weight of everything settled in. She had never seen Viv like this before, had never seen her look so lost, so unmoored, so completely detached from everything around her. She had fought with Viv before, had seen her upset, had seen her frustrated, but this was different—this was something else entirely.
Steph took another careful step closer, her movements slow, deliberate, cautious, as if she was afraid that one wrong move might make Viv fall apart completely. "I know that was a lot," she continued, voice steady, almost coaxing, like she was trying to pull Viv back to herself, trying to bring her home. "I know, okay? Just take a breath, yeah? You're okay."
But Viv still wasn’t speaking, still wasn’t acknowledging anything around her, still wasn’t looking at anything but the broken jar on the floor.
Her shoulders were rigid, her breath uneven, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides like she didn’t know what to do with them.
Steph didn’t hesitate. She stepped closer, easing down beside Viv, her hand coming to rest against her arm. “Hey,” she murmured, keeping her voice steady, calm. “Breathe, yeah? Just breathe.”
Viv’s chest rose, then fell, but it was shaky, unsteady. She wiped at her face quickly, like she was trying to erase the evidence of her tears, but they kept coming, silent and slow.
Steph’s hold firmed. She shifted slightly, wrapping an arm around Viv’s side, anchoring her, fingers pressing lightly into the fabric of her shirt. “I’ve got you,” she said, voice low. “You’re okay.”
Viv didn’t answer, but she didn’t pull away either. That was enough.
Myle had settled by her feet now, nudging her leg softly, sensing everything, sensing the weight pressing down on her. Viv’s hand brushed against her fur absently, but her eyes stayed locked on the broken jar. She looked like she was somewhere else entirely.
Beth hadn’t moved, hadn’t said anything, but Steph could feel her watching. The anger had drained from her completely now, replaced by something quieter, heavier. Guilt, maybe. Realization.
Beth stepped forward, hesitating. “Viv…”
No reaction.
Beth swallowed, trying again. “Can we just—”
Viv finally moved. Not toward Beth, not toward Steph. Just away.
She pulled herself from Steph’s hold, blinking rapidly as she wiped at her face again. Then, without a word, she turned and walked toward the bedroom.
Beth took half a step after her, reaching out. “Viv—”
The door closed behind her before Beth could finish.
Beth stood frozen for a second, staring at the closed door like she could will it to open, like she could fix everything just by stepping inside. Her hand twitched at her side before she took a step forward, reaching for the handle.
Before she could touch it, Steph spoke.
"Beth, don’t," she said softly but firmly.
Beth turned, eyes burning, her whole body still tense. "Steph, I just—"
"Let her breathe," Steph interrupted gently. "Just for a little bit. Let her calm down."
Beth opened her mouth, then closed it. She exhaled shakily, nodding after a moment. She wasn’t sure what she would’ve even said if she had gone in there, wasn’t sure if Viv would have even looked at her, let alone spoken to her.
Instead, she turned away, dragging herself toward the couch. Myle trotted over immediately, hopping up beside her and settling in her lap like she knew Beth needed something—anything—to hold onto. Beth buried her fingers in the soft fur, grounding herself, trying to quiet the storm of emotions still running through her.
She waited. And waited.
Viv never came out.
The silence in the apartment felt suffocating now, pressing down on her in a way that made her stomach twist. She wiped at her own face, barely realizing she had been crying too.
Steph was still standing there, arms crossed, staring at her like she didn’t recognize her. Beth didn’t blame her. She wasn’t sure she recognized herself either.
“What the hell was that for?” Steph finally said, her voice sharp but not quite angry—more incredulous, like she was genuinely trying to understand.
Beth swallowed, her throat dry. “I—”
“No, seriously, Beth,” Steph cut her off, stepping closer. “What was that? What were you trying to do?” She shook her head, letting out a disbelieving laugh. “Because it sure as hell looked like you were just trying to hurt her.”
Beth flinched, her grip tightening on Myle’s fur. She wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come.
Steph exhaled, rubbing a hand over her face before looking back at Beth. “Did you even see her?”
Beth blinked, her gaze shifting toward the closed bedroom door.
“She looked like she didn’t even recognize you,” Steph went on, her voice quieter now, but no less cutting. “Like she didn’t know who the hell you were.” A beat of silence. Then, softer, almost hesitant, “Like she was scared of you.”
Beth’s stomach twisted.
She hadn’t meant—God, she hadn’t meant—
“She didn’t even say anything,” Steph added. “She just… accepted.”
Beth closed her eyes for a second, pressing her palm against her forehead like she could push the guilt away. “I know,” she whispered.
Steph sighed, watching her for a long moment before speaking again. “Just don’t go in there, okay? Give her some space. Let her come to you.”
The bedroom door creaked open, and Beth looked up so fast her neck almost hurt.
Viv stood there, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, her face still blotchy from crying. She had a backpack slung over one shoulder, the strap digging into the fabric of her hoodie, and she looked tired—more than tired. She looked drained, like she had nothing left to give.
Beth pushed herself off the couch immediately. “Viv—”
Viv didn’t look at her. She walked straight into the room, heading toward the front door.
Steph, who had been sitting in quiet tension, stood up as well, brows furrowing as she took in the backpack. “Do you want me to leave?” she asked gently, giving Viv an out, some space if she needed it.
Viv shook her head. “No.” Her voice was rough, like she hadn't spoken for hours. She adjusted the strap of her bag, not breaking her stride. “I’m going.”
Beth’s stomach twisted. “Wait—what? Where?” She stepped forward instinctively, hands reaching out, but Viv didn’t stop, didn’t look at her, didn’t acknowledge her in any way.
“Viv, please—” Beth tried again, desperation seeping into her tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
Viv’s head snapped toward her then, her expression unreadable but her body language screaming one thing: stay back. “Don’t,” she said sharply, voice hoarse but firm. “Don’t touch me.”
Beth’s hands froze in mid-air. She barely noticed the way her breath caught, the sting in her chest as Viv recoiled slightly, as if Beth stepping closer was something to brace for.
Myle, who had been curled up on the floor, suddenly ran toward Viv, tail wagging anxiously, sensing something was wrong. Viv crouched down immediately, her entire posture softening as she pulled Myle into her arms, holding her close. She buried her face in the dog’s fur, pressing a few kisses to the top of her head, whispering softly, “I’ll be back, baby. Okay? I promise.”
Beth felt like she couldn’t breathe. The way Viv was speaking—it was like she was saying goodbye.
Viv finally pulled away from Myle, giving her one last rub behind the ears before standing up again. Her gaze flickered toward the broken glass still scattered on the floor, her expression tightening for just a moment.
Beth swallowed hard. “Viv, where are you going?”
Viv hesitated, just for a second. Like she was debating whether or not to even tell her.
“Please,” Beth pleaded, her voice quieter this time, barely holding itself together. “Just—don’t drive to Manchester. It’s too late. You’re exhausted. Just stay.”
Viv shook her head, her grip tightening on the strap of her backpack. “I’m going to Lotte’s.”
Beth swallowed hard, forcing herself to speak past the tightness in her throat. “Are you—” she hesitated, then tried again, softer this time. “Are you going to watch the game tomorrow? I can send you tickets.”
Viv stopped, her fingers tightening on the strap of her backpack, but she didn’t turn around.
For a moment, Beth thought she might just ignore her, might walk out without giving her anything, not even a look. But then Viv did turn, slowly, her eyes finding Beth’s. They were red-rimmed, exhausted, hollow in a way that made Beth’s stomach twist painfully.
Viv stared at her for a long time, too long, like she was trying to make sense of something that didn’t make sense at all. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, but it cut through Beth like a blade.
“I don’t want to be somewhere I’m not wanted.”
Beth inhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Viv, that’s not—”
Viv didn’t let her finish.
“No,” she said, voice breaking just slightly before she steadied it. “You said it, Beth.” She let out a soft, bitter laugh, but there was no amusement behind it, only something achingly raw. “It’s not your fault Arsenal didn’t want me anymore, right?” She blinked rapidly, as if trying to keep more tears from falling, her jaw tightening. “So why the fuck would I go sit in a stadium full of people who don’t want me there?”
Beth took a step forward without thinking, but Viv shifted back immediately, just an inch, but enough that Beth noticed. Enough that it felt like a slap.
Beth’s voice cracked when she spoke. “Viv, I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did,” Viv whispered, barely above a breath. “And even if you didn’t, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Because it felt true. It feels true.”
Beth’s chest ached. “That’s not—”
Viv shook her head. “I can’t do this right now.”
And before Beth could say anything else, before she could try, beg, fix any of it, Viv turned around and walked out the door.