The fight

She stood frozen in place, staring at the door like she could will it to open again, like she could rewind the last few hours and stop herself before she said every cruel, thoughtless thing she had. But Viv was gone. She was gone, and Beth didn’t know if she was coming back.

Her chest rose sharply, a ragged breath scraping against her throat as she lifted a hand to her face. Her fingers came away damp. She hadn’t even realized she was crying.

The clinking of a spoon against ceramic broke the silence, and Beth turned slightly, her gaze finding Steph in the kitchen. She was stirring tea, slow and methodical, but she wasn’t looking at the cup. She was watching Beth.

Beth tore her gaze away, her stomach twisting, and forced her legs to move. The glass from the broken jar still lay scattered across the floor, the sharp edges catching in the dim light. It looked like a mess she should be able to fix. Something she could just clean up, throw away, and forget about.

She knelt down, reaching for the largest piece.

"Beth," Steph said from the kitchen, not unkindly. "Leave it. I’ll do it."

Beth shook her head, jaw tightening. "No," she muttered, fingers curling around one of the shards, pressing too hard, like she needed to feel something real. "I need to—" She exhaled sharply, biting back whatever she was about to say.

Steph didn’t argue, but Beth could feel her watching, could hear the way she set the teaspoon down with a little too much care.

Beth kept picking up the pieces, hands trembling slightly as she placed them carefully in her palm. The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating, until she let out a breath that was almost a laugh. Except it wasn’t.

"I'm so fucking stupid."

Her voice cracked on the last word, but she didn’t stop. She kept working, kept gathering the broken pieces like if she just cleaned them all up, she could fix everything else, too.

Steph sighed, stepping forward. "Beth—"

Beth shook her head again, swallowing hard. "No, seriously. What the fuck was that? What the fuck is wrong with me?" Her voice was uneven, bordering on frantic. "I—I knew she was already upset. I knew something was wrong the second she walked through the door, and instead of just—" she made a sharp, frustrated gesture, nearly dropping the glass in her hands, "instead of just talking to her like a normal fucking person, I made everything worse."

She pressed a hand to her forehead, blinking rapidly. "I don’t—I don’t even know why I said half of that shit. I was just so—so angry, and I don’t even know why, because none of it fucking mattered. The jar? The stupid fucking jar?" She let out a harsh breath, shaking her head. "I don’t care about the jar. I never cared about the jar. But I broke it anyway, like a fucking child, just to hurt her."

Her hands clenched into fists around the glass, and Steph took a step forward. "Beth, you need to stop before you cut yourself."

Beth exhaled sharply, forcing herself to release the pieces. They clinked softly as they landed on the floor.

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her palms against them.

Steph returned a few minutes later, two mugs in hand, setting them down on the coffee table before nudging Beth toward the couch. “Come on,” she murmured, her voice softer now. “Sit.”

Beth didn’t argue. She let Steph guide her, sinking onto the couch as if her body was too heavy to hold up anymore. But she didn’t reach for the tea. Instead, she stared at the mess still scattered across the floor—the broken glass, the shards catching the dim light. Her fingers twitched against her knees, restless.

Steph exhaled and sat beside her, the weight of silence pressing between them before Beth finally broke it.

“I ruin everything.” The words came out flat, almost hollow.

Steph turned to her, her brow furrowing slightly. “Beth…”

“No.” Beth shook her head, voice rough, raw, like something had lodged itself in her throat and refused to move. “What the fuck was that? What the fuck is wrong with me?” Her hands curled into fists on her lap. “I said things I didn’t even mean. And I knew I was hurting her, and I still—” She let out a sharp, frustrated breath, squeezing her eyes shut. “Do you think I can fix it?”

Steph didn’t answer right away. She just studied Beth, like she was weighing the best way to respond. Then, after a moment, she sighed. “Talk to her. Tomorrow, or when she’s ready. Apologize. Be honest.” She nudged the tea toward Beth’s hands. “Tell her how bad you feel.”

Beth swallowed hard. “I do,” she whispered. “I never wanted to hurt her.”

Steph nodded. “I know.” And then, more pointedly, “But you did.”

Beth flinched slightly at that, sucking in a breath like she’d been struck.
Steph hesitated before continuing. “Why did you say those things? Why were you so mad?”

Beth chewed the inside of her cheek. She thought about it—really thought about it. And then, finally, she admitted, “She didn’t tell me about her knee.” Her voice was quiet at first, but frustration flickered beneath it. She just showed up here, and I had no idea why. No idea she wasn’t playing, no idea she needed fucking surgery. How am I supposed to be okay with that? With her keeping something like that from me?”

Steph took a slow sip of her tea, then set it down before answering. “It’s not an excuse,” she said carefully.

Beth let out a hollow laugh. “I know it’s not,” she muttered. “But I just—I don’t understand. She told me she was embarrassed.” The word felt ridiculous even as she said it. She scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t get it. What’s there to be embarrassed about? It’s an injury. It’s not like she did something wrong.”

Steph sighed. “Beth,” she said, voice patient but firm, “try to put yourself in her place.”

Beth’s mouth opened like she was about to protest, but Steph’s expression stopped her.

“She hasn’t really played in two years,” Steph continued, her tone steady but gentle. “More than a couple of games, but nothing like before. She’s watched you and Leah come back from injury and get straight back into it. Meanwhile, she was dropped by Arsenal after everything she gave to that club. And now, after all the work she put in to get back, she has to do it all over again. In a new place. With new people. Away from everything she knew.”

Beth’s jaw clenched.

Steph let the silence settle before adding, “Maybe she just wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.”

Beth exhaled, deflating slightly. “She said she was embarrassed,” she repeated, quieter this time.

Steph nodded.

Beth hesitated before continuing, her voice almost breaking. “I feel awful. About everything. About the jar. About what I said.” She swallowed, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her sweats. “About how she flinched when I got closer.” Her voice cracked. “She fucking flinched.”

She dropped her head into her hands, pressing her palms against her face.

Steph sat beside her, quiet for a beat. Then, just as gently, she said, “Yeah. She did.”

Steph had been quiet for a while, stirring her tea absently, gaze flickering toward the broken pieces still scattered on the floor. Beth noticed it—how her fingers drummed lightly against the side of her mug, how her knee bounced just slightly, like she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how to start.

Beth sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. “Just say it, Steph.”

Steph blinked, glancing at her. “Say what?”

Beth shot her a tired look. “Whatever it is you’re sitting there debating whether or not to say.”

Steph let out a short breath, shifting slightly, still hesitant. “It’s nothing, really, I just—” She stopped, biting the inside of her cheek before finally continuing. “Did you notice how Viv reacted when the jar broke?”

Beth’s brows furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

Steph hesitated again, like she was still trying to put the thought together, like she didn’t want to sound like she was making something out of nothing. “I don’t know,” she admitted finally. “It just—it felt off. Like… she stiffened the second it happened. She stepped back, and then she just—froze.”

Beth straightened slightly, expression hardening. “I wasn’t going to hit her or anything.”

“I know that, Beth,” Steph said immediately, firm but gentle. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

Beth exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Then what are you saying?”

Steph glanced away for a second before meeting her gaze again. “I mean that it was weird,” she said carefully. “You pushed the jar. You didn’t throw it, it wasn’t close to her, it wasn’t even aggressive. But the second it hit the ground, she reacted like—” She stopped herself, exhaling like she wasn’t sure she should even finish that sentence.

Beth’s stomach twisted, and she shook her head, her voice defensive when she spoke. “She was already upset. Everything that happened, the fight, me yelling at her… It was a lot.”

Steph nodded, but she didn’t drop it. “Yeah, but… Beth, she didn’t just flinch. She froze.” She paused before adding, “Like she was bracing for something.”

Beth’s breath caught slightly.

Steph sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Maybe I’m reading too much into it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just exhausted, and this whole night has been a fucking mess.” She let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head. “Maybe I just need to sleep.”

Beth was quiet, her gaze still fixed on the broken glass.

After a long moment, she swallowed, voice quieter when she spoke. “No… I see what you mean.”

Steph looked at her now, waiting.

Beth inhaled slowly, something heavy sitting in her chest. “She wouldn’t stop looking at the pieces,” she muttered. “Even after everything else, even after I—” She stopped, swallowing. “She just kept staring.”

Steph didn’t say anything for a moment.

After a while, Steph shifted slightly, glancing toward Beth before speaking, her voice careful, like she was picking her words with caution. “Did Viv ever… mention anything? About—” She hesitated, before finishing, “I mean, from before? Another relationship or something?”

Beth frowned slightly, looking at her. “No.” Her voice was quiet but certain. “She doesn’t really talk about that kind of stuff.” She exhaled, running a hand through her hair. “She only ever really dated Lisa. Or—kind of ever.”

Steph hummed, thoughtful.

Beth hesitated, then swallowed before continuing, voice lower now. “Do you think…” She paused, almost like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to say it out loud, then finally asked, “Do you think anything ever happened?”

Steph exhaled, looking at Beth for a moment before answering. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “It just… it just looked like she flinched on instinct, you know? Like—it wasn’t something she thought about, just something her body did.”

Beth looked away, pressing a hand against her forehead. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

They sat in silence again, the weight of it settling between them.

After a few beats, Steph finally stretched, rubbing at her eyes. “Look, we need to sleep. We’ve got a game tomorrow, and we’re both starting.”

Beth let out a breath, nodding. “Yeah. I know.” She swallowed, leaning back against the couch, exhaustion hitting her all at once. “I’m exhausted.”

Steph didn’t say anything, just stood, gave Beth’s shoulder a light squeeze, and headed toward her room.

Beth stayed where she was for a little longer, staring at the broken glass, before finally pushing herself up and heading toward bed too.

The door opened faster than Viv expected, and when she looked up, Lotte stood in the doorway, brows slightly furrowed in surprise.

“Viv?” she asked, blinking, before her expression softened instantly.

Viv didn’t say anything. She didn’t even try. She just stepped forward, crossing the small space between them, and wrapped her arms around Lotte, gripping her tightly.

Lotte barely hesitated before hugging her back, just as tight.

Viv’s breath hitched against her shoulder, and then she was crying, her whole body trembling from the effort of keeping it together for too long. Lotte didn’t say anything, didn’t ask questions—she just held her.

They stood there for a long time, Lotte rubbing small, comforting circles on Viv’s back while she cried into her sweatshirt. Eventually, Viv’s breathing started to even out, her sobs quieting into soft, shaky inhales. Lotte loosened her grip only slightly, just enough to lean back and look at her.

“Do you want me to call Beth?” she asked gently.

Viv immediately shook her head. “No.” Her voice was raw from crying.

Lotte nodded, not pressing, but her tone remained soft when she asked, “Did something happen between you two?”

Viv didn’t say anything at first, just nodded against her shoulder.

Lotte exhaled softly, hugging her again. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice full of warmth. She pulled back just enough to meet Viv’s eyes. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Viv hesitated. “You don’t mind?”

Lotte huffed out a small, almost amused breath. “Of course not,” she said like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Come to bed, I’m home alone. Sleep with me.”

Viv didn’t argue. She just nodded, and Lotte took her hand, leading her inside.

The room was dim, the kind of quiet and warm that felt safe, and when they lay down, Lotte curled an arm around her, holding her close like she could physically keep her together.

After a while, Lotte spoke, voice soft against the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Viv exhaled slowly, considering it. But she didn’t have the words, not really. Instead, she just whispered, “Beth wasn’t really nice. She said something that really hurt me.”

Lotte’s arms tightened around her instinctively. “I’m sorry, Vivi,” she murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

Viv swallowed past the lump in her throat.

Lotte sighed. “Tomorrow, I have the game right after lunch, but I need to leave in the morning, you know how it is. So just stay here as long as you need, okay? No one will be home, just relax and be here.”

Viv let out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

Beth hadn’t really slept. She had tossed and turned, the exhaustion in her bones doing nothing to quiet the storm in her head. Even now, as she walked into the stadium with Steph, her body felt heavy, but she told herself she was fine—fine enough to play, at least.

Steph had given her space all morning, barely saying anything beyond the necessary. Beth knew it was on purpose. Steph had understood that she wasn’t in the mood to talk, wasn’t ready to unpack what had happened last night.

As they made their way toward the locker room, Beth spotted Lotte sitting on a bench, tying her shoelaces. Her first instinct was to walk past, pretend she didn’t see her, but then she found herself adjusting her path, walking toward her instead.

Lotte glanced up as Beth sat down beside her, her expression unreadable. She didn’t say anything, just finished tying her laces, giving Beth time to say whatever she needed to say.

Beth tried. She opened her mouth, but the words felt thick, stuck in her throat. She swallowed, rubbed the back of her neck, then exhaled and muttered, “Umhh.”

Lotte huffed a small breath, something close to a chuckle, but there wasn’t any humor in it. “That’s not much of a sentence, Beth.”

Beth exhaled sharply, pressing her palms against her knees. “I—” She stopped, frustrated with herself. “I don’t know what to say.”

Lotte studied her for a moment before speaking. Her voice was softer than Beth had expected, but steady. “She didn’t tell me what happened,” she admitted. “But whatever you said to her, it really hurt.”

Beth sucked in a breath, her stomach twisting. She forced herself to look at Lotte. “Is she okay?”

Lotte nodded. “She’s at mine. I told her to stay and rest for as long as she needs.”

Beth dropped her head slightly, nodding too, but it didn’t make her feel any better. “Did she… did she say anything?”

Lotte shook her head. “Not really. Just that she didn’t want to go home.” She paused, then added, “Which, I guess, tells me enough.”

Beth clenched her jaw, pressing her lips together. She wanted to say that wasn’t what she wanted, that she hadn’t meant for things to go that far, but what was the point? Viv wasn’t home. That was the reality.

Lotte watched her carefully before speaking again, her voice even. “You can talk to her later. Let’s focus on the game. Everything will be solved.””

Beth scoffed lightly, shaking her head. “You think it’ll be that easy?”

Lotte gave her a small smile, one that held more certainty than Beth could manage right now. “Viv loves you too much to end things over one fight. Believe me.”

Beth held her gaze for a second, then sighed. “I hope you’re right.”

“I am,” Lotte said simply, with a quiet confidence that made Beth want to believe it.

Beth inhaled deeply, then pushed herself up from the bench. “I should get ready.”

Lotte nodded, giving her one last look before standing up too. “Go and Play well.”

Viv woke up slowly, the weight of exhaustion settling deep in her bones. She blinked against the dim light filtering into the room, her mind still caught in the haze between sleep and reality. For a moment, she thought about rolling over and forcing herself back into unconsciousness, but then the sharp ache in her chest reminded her—there was no escaping this.

She exhaled, slow and heavy, before finally sitting up. The room was silent, almost unnervingly so. Lotte’s house was always peaceful, but today it felt too quiet, like the air was pressing down on her. She reached for her phone without thinking, already knowing what she would find.

Beth never handled silence well.

Viv’s lock screen was filled with notifications, the endless string of messages making her stomach twist. She hesitated for a moment before unlocking it.

Beth: Viv, I’m sorry.
Beth: Please, talk to me.
Beth: I didn’t mean what I said. I swear to God, I didn’t.
Beth: I love you. You know I love you, right?
Beth: Please don’t shut me out. I can’t handle this.
Beth: Are you okay? Did you eat? Did you sleep?
Beth: I don’t even know what to say. I just need to fix this. Tell me how to fix this.
Beth: I hate myself for hurting you.
Beth: Please, just tell me you’re okay. That’s all I need to know.

Viv stared at the texts for a long time, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. There was too much to say, too much she wasn’t ready to unpack. If she answered, she’d have to find words for things she didn’t even understand yet.

So she didn’t.

She locked her phone and set it face down on the couch, running a hand over her face. She needed to do something—make coffee, take a shower, eat, anything. But instead, she reached for the remote.

Before she could second-guess herself, she navigated to the Arsenal match and clicked on it.

She wasn’t entirely sure why she wanted to watch. Maybe it was just instinct. Maybe it was because she always watched. Maybe a part of her wanted to see Beth, to know how she was, even if she couldn’t bring herself to respond.

The game was already well into the first half, and Arsenal was in control. But what caught Viv’s attention immediately was Beth.

She was playing like she was angry.

There was an edge to her movements, a sharpness that wasn’t just focus—it was frustration, a storm barely contained beneath the surface. Her touches were precise, controlled, but there was something unrelenting about the way she moved, about the way she pressed high and fought for every ball. She wasn’t just playing well—she was playing like she needed to prove something.

Viv watched as Beth took a shot from outside the box, her strike powerful but just a little off, the ball grazing the post. She barely reacted, jaw tight as she turned away, already resetting, already chasing the next play.

Minutes later, she assisted the first goal. It was a brilliant pass, cutting through the defense like she had seen it before it even happened. But even as her teammates celebrated, Beth barely acknowledged it. She nodded once, barely forcing a smile, then jogged back into position, her expression unreadable.

Viv exhaled, pressing her fingers against her temple.

Even when she was hurt, even when she was still mad, she still liked watching Beth play. It was muscle memory at this point. She could sit here and pretend it was just a distraction, but she knew better.

The game had ended a while ago, but Beth was still sitting in her spot in the locker room, her back against the wall, her fingers lightly drumming against her knee.

She could hear her teammates around her—some laughing, some talking about the match, some already heading out to shower—but she wasn’t really listening. Her head was somewhere else.

The adrenaline from the game had worn off, and all that was left was exhaustion and the weight of everything she hadn’t been able to push away. She pulled out her phone, staring at the last set of messages she had sent Viv earlier. No response. No read receipts.

She should give her space. She knew she should give her space. But her fingers moved before she could stop herself.

Beth: I don’t know if you watched the game, but we won.
Beth: I played okay. Nothing special.
Beth: Doesn’t really matter when I feel like shit.

She hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek before typing again.

Beth: I know I keep texting you. I know I should stop.
Beth: But I just…

She sighed, running a hand down her face before deleting the unfinished message. Instead, she typed something else.

Beth: I love you. I don’t know if you want to hear that right now, but I do. And I’m sorry.

She sent it before she could overthink it.

She exhaled, locking her phone and pressing it against her forehead for a moment. Maybe she should stop. Maybe it was selfish to keep trying when Viv clearly needed space.

Steph, sitting beside her, nudged her gently with her elbow. “You want to go out for a bit? Get something to eat?” she asked, voice soft but light, like she was testing the mood.

Beth didn’t look away from her phone. “I think I’m just gonna head home. I don’t know… maybe Viv will come by.”

Steph nodded silently, not pressing. She knew what Beth meant—I want to be home in case she’s ready. She also knew Viv wasn’t likely to show, at least not yet.

From across the room, Katie’s voice cut in, teasing and bright. “Wait—Viv’s in London?”

Beth hesitated, caught a little off guard. “Yeah,” she said carefully. “She is.”

Katie huffed, pulling a sweatshirt over her head. “That girl never says anything. I swear, I really need to call her out on this. She comes down here and just disappears? Doesn’t even send a text?” she joked, clearly not picking up on the tension under Beth’s answer.

Beth gave a weak smile, unsure of what to say.

Vic came around the corner holding a shake and raised her brows. “Viv’s here? In London?”

“Apparently,” Katie said, still pulling on her shoes. “And not letting anyone know.”

Vic turned to Beth, curiosity flickering in her eyes. “Since when?”

“She got in late yesterday,” Steph offered, shooting a glance Beth’s way, trying to ease the pressure off her.

Katie looked between them. “Well, if she’s here, we should do something, right? We haven’t all hung out in forever. Nothing big—just dinner or something.”

Beth’s stomach tightened. She knew Katie didn’t mean anything by it, but it felt like the idea of seeing Viv in a casual group setting was miles beyond what either of them could handle right now.

“I don’t know if Viv’s really up for that,” Beth said slowly. “She’s… been laying low.”

Katie waved it off. “Come on, I’ll text her. Just a dinner, nothing wild.”

But before she could say more, Lotte, who had just finished changing and was zipping up her jacket, looked over and said calmly, “I’ll ask her.”

Katie glanced her way, then nodded. “Alright. Let me know. We’ll keep it simple.”

Beth met Lotte’s eyes for a moment. She didn’t say anything, but the look was enough. Lotte knew—Viv didn’t need pressure right now. She needed choice, space, care.

As the group slowly began to head out, Steph lingered by Beth, nudging her again once they were alone enough to speak.

“You alright?”

Beth looked down at her hands for a long moment before shaking her head. “Not really,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “But… I just want to be home. Just in case.”

Steph gave her shoulder a soft squeeze. “Then let’s go.”

Lotte unlocked the door quietly and stepped inside, kicking off her shoes by the entryway. The house was still, but she could hear soft footsteps moving around the kitchen. She set her bag down and followed the sound, finding Viv standing by the sink, rinsing out a mug, her hair tied messily back, sleeves pushed up. She looked… better. Not good, not fully rested, but calmer.

Viv turned when she heard her, offering a small, tired smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Lotte said gently, leaning against the doorframe. “How are you doing?”

Viv shrugged one shoulder, drying her hands with a towel. “Okay, I guess. Still tired.”

Lotte studied her for a second, then nodded slowly. “That’s okay.”

Viv didn’t answer, just nodded slightly, turning back to put the mug in the drying rack.

“I wanted to run something by you,” Lotte said after a beat, keeping her tone light. “Katie brought up the idea of having dinner… nothing fancy, just a few of us. She was talking to Beth and kind of floated the idea.”

Viv tensed slightly, and Lotte caught it. She added quickly, “You don’t have to say yes. There’s no pressure. I can tell them no, and we can just stay in, keep things quiet.”

Viv was quiet for a moment. She looked down at the kitchen counter, running her finger in a little circle over the surface. “I… I do want to see them,” she said eventually. “I miss everyone.”

Lotte nodded, giving her time.

“I just…” Viv hesitated. “I don’t want to go out. I’m not really up for… you know, restaurants or pretending everything’s normal.”

Lotte smiled warmly. “Then we won’t go out. I can cook here. We’ll keep it small—just the girls. You can leave whenever you want, or just go to bed early if it gets too much. You don’t even have to talk if you don’t feel like it.”

Viv glanced at her with something that looked like gratitude. “You’d cook?”

“Of course. I’ll keep it simple— It’s not about the food anyway.” Lotte paused, then asked carefully, “Should I invite Beth?”

Viv hesitated again, this time longer. She wrapped her arms around herself for a moment, chewing at the inside of her cheek before nodding. “Yeah. She can come.”

Lotte didn’t say anything right away—just watched her, making sure it was what she really wanted. Viv gave her a look that was quiet but firm.

So Lotte nodded. “Alright. I’ll text everyone.”

Beth was sitting curled up on the couch at home, Myle tucked beside her. She had barely let go of her phone all afternoon, checking every few minutes, even though she hadn’t sent any more texts since the last one. She was half-watching something on TV when Steph came out of the bedroom, phone in hand.

“You just got a text from Lotte,” Steph said, tossing her the phone gently. “Dinner invite.”

Beth blinked. “Lotte?” She unlocked the screen and read the message. Her breath caught a little.

Lotte: Just having a quiet dinner tonight at mine. Viv said she’s okay with it. Just you, Steph, Katie, Cait, Vic, and Leah. Come if you want.

Beth sat up straighter. “She said yes?”

Steph gave her a small nod. “Looks like it.”

Beth read the message again, like she was trying to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood. A soft smile tugged at her lips. “She wants to see people… that’s good.”

Steph looked at her carefully. “You okay?”

Beth nodded, though her chest felt tight. “Yeah. I just—I didn’t expect her to want to see me yet. I’m really glad… but I’m also scared. I don’t know what to say.”

Steph put a hand on her shoulder. “Then don’t plan what to say. Just go, be there. Let her see that you’re showing up.”

Beth swallowed, heart already racing. “Right.”

Viv was curled up on the couch, one leg tucked under the other, absently watching whatever was on the TV. She wasn’t really taking it in, just letting the background noise settle around her. Leah and Vic were in the kitchen with Lotte, helping finish up dinner, and every now and then, laughter or the clatter of dishes carried over from where they stood.

Lotte had told her to just sit and relax, so she was doing exactly that—hands loosely holding the edge of a pillow, mind drifting somewhere else.

Then there was a knock at the door.

Viv tensed slightly before she could stop herself. She knew who it was.

Lotte wiped her hands on a towel as she walked over to open the door. “Hey, come in,” she greeted, stepping aside.

Beth was the first through the doorway, Steph close behind.

Viv wasn’t sure why she looked up, but she did, catching sight of Beth almost instantly. Beth hesitated just for a second, standing there like she wasn’t sure where to step. Her eyes flickered toward Viv, and Viv felt herself freeze just slightly. It wasn’t long—just the briefest moment of eye contact- Neither of them said anything.

Then Leah walked over, breaking whatever it was. “Good game today,” she said, pulling Beth into a hug before she even had a chance to respond.

Beth nodded, forcing a smile. “Thanks.”

Leah barely gave her a second before moving on to Steph, hugging her too. The moment passed. The tension, however, didn’t completely fade.

A few minutes later, the apartment felt a little fuller. Katie had arrived and immediately made a beeline for Viv, throwing herself down next to her and wrapping her up in a tight hug, nearly knocking the pillow from her lap.

“You have to text more,” Katie said, squeezing her once before finally letting go. “You disappear too much.”

Viv let out a quiet breath of a laugh, shaking her head. “I know.”

And she did. She had missed Katie. She had missed all of them, even if she wasn’t saying it out loud.

Now, the TV played quietly in the background, half-forgotten as people moved around the space. Drinks were being poured, plates set on the counter. Viv stayed put on the couch, watching more than talking, keeping to herself.

After a little while, Steph sat down beside her.

“Hey,” she said softly.

Viv glanced at her. “Hey.”

Steph watched her for a second before asking, just as quiet, “How are you feeling? More calm?”

Viv nodded. “Yeah.”

Steph didn’t push, didn’t press. She just scooted a little closer, letting the conversation sit between them.

A long silence stretched between them, only the quiet hum of the TV filling the space. Viv’s eyes stayed on the screen, but she wasn’t really watching. She shifted slightly, her fingers picking at the loose seam of the pillow in her lap.

Then, after a moment, so soft Steph almost didn’t catch it, Viv murmured, “I’m sorry for last night.”

Steph turned her head toward her, brows knitting slightly. “Why are you apologizing.”

Viv swallowed hard, still not looking at her. “I feel bad. It was late, and you just wanted to rest.”

Steph’s voice was gentle. “It’s okay.”

Viv nodded slowly, exhaling, as if trying to find the right words. Then, after another beat, she said, quieter still, “I assume you heard everything.” She finally glanced at Steph for just a second before looking away again. “I just… I hope you know I had nothing against you staying there. And I’m sorry if it ever felt like—”

Before she could finish, Steph reached out, giving her arm a small, reassuring tug. “Viv, don’t worry. I understood.”

Viv pressed her lips together, nodding slightly, but she still felt like she had to say it. “I just… it’s not—”

“It’s her not having asked,” Steph finished for her, watching as Viv’s posture stiffened just a little. “I get it, Viv. I thought she did. And I never would have moved in if I knew you didn’t have a say in it.”

Viv let out a slow breath, her shoulders dropping just slightly. It was strange, hearing someone say it outright.

Another pause settled between them, but then Viv spoke again, voice even softer. “I’m sorry about you and Dean.”

Steph’s brows furrowed for a split second, caught off guard.

“I mean it,” Viv added, glancing down at the pillow she was still fidgeting with. “I know we never really talked about it. And I never really said anything.” She hesitated, then mumbled, “I just didn’t know how to.”

Steph’s expression softened. “Viv—”

“I’m not really good with this.” Viv gestured vaguely between them, then muttered, “Interactions and stuff.”

Steph huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “I know, Viv.”

Viv finally looked at her, and for the first time that evening, there was something lighter in her eyes.

Steph smiled, nudging her gently. “We’re good, okay?”

Viv let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Okay.”

Viv's fingers were still tangled around the edge of the pillow in her lap. She took a small breath, then spoke so quietly Steph almost missed it.

“Would you… break up?” she asked, hesitating for a long beat. “If what happened last night—” she paused, swallowing. “If someone said those things to you… would you leave them?”

Steph blinked, surprised by the question, and sat with it for a moment. She didn’t answer right away, and Viv didn’t push—she just waited, staring straight ahead, like she was bracing herself.

“I don’t know,” she said eventually, gently. “That’s a hard one, Viv.”

Viv’s gaze was fixed somewhere near the floor, jaw tight.

“I think,” Steph continued carefully, “I’d be really hurt. Probably angry too. And yeah, maybe I would walk away. Depends on the person. And the fight.”

Viv gave a tiny nod, barely perceptible.

“Depends on how much I love them,” Steph added softly.

That made Viv finally glance sideways at her, just for a second. “So… you wouldn’t always stay.”

“No,” Steph said honestly. “But I wouldn’t always leave either.”

Steph glanced over at her. “Are you thinking about it?”

Viv exhaled, and the sound felt heavier than it should have. “I thought about it last night,” she admitted. “After she said those things… I really thought maybe that was it.”

Steph shifted closer, not enough to crowd her, just enough to show she was really there. “And now?”

Viv hesitated, her eyes dipping again. “I don’t want to,” she said quietly. “I’m sad. And still really hurt. But no… I don’t want to leave her.”

Steph nodded once, slow and understanding. “That’s fair, Viv. Really fair. You’re allowed to be upset and still love her. Both things can be true.”

Viv’s grip on the pillow tightened. “She hurt me,” she said again, and her voice cracked ever so slightly. “She really, really hurt me.”

“I know,” Steph said gently. “She shouldn’t have said any of it.”

There was another pause, quieter this time.

Viv let out a shaky breath. “I know she was angry, and maybe I should’ve told her sooner about my knee. I know I shut down sometimes and I don’t explain things. But still…” she trailed off. “It felt like she said everything she knew would hurt the most.”

Steph nodded. “She did,” she said honestly. “Because she was upset. And overwhelmed. And yeah—because she wasn’t thinking.”

Viv let her head fall slightly, gaze low. “It felt like she wanted to hurt me.”

“She didn’t,” Steph said. “But I understand why it felt that way.” She hesitated before adding, “I don’t expect you to believe everything I say right now, but she’s been wrecked over this. She’s tearing herself apart, Viv. I think if she could take it all back, she’d do it in a heartbeat.And… she really does love you, Viv. A lot.”

Viv didn’t respond for a long time. Then, her voice small, she said, “I know she loves me. I do. I just don’t understand how you can say you love someone and then say… that.”

Steph leaned back a bit, watching her. “Beth’s… impulsive,” she said carefully. “She speaks before she thinks. And she lashes out when she’s hurt or scared. That doesn’t excuse it. But it might explain it.”

Viv was silent, her expression unreadable.

“You kind of shut down when things upset you,” Steph said gently. “And Beth—she says everything. Everything she can think of, even if it’s the worst possible thing.”

Viv nodded slowly. “I know.”

Steph tilted her head. “That doesn’t mean what she said was okay—because it wasn’t. She shouldn’t have yelled at you, and she definitely shouldn’t have said those things. But it also doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”

Viv could tell she had something to say. She just didn’t know if Steph would actually say it.

After another long silence, Steph finally exhaled, rubbing a hand over her face before speaking, voice soft and careful.

“I, um…” She hesitated, exhaling sharply before trying again. “I don’t really know how to ask this,” she admitted. “And if you don’t want to talk about it, I swear I’ll drop it. No questions asked.”

Viv turned her head slightly, looking at her. She didn’t say anything, just waited.

Steph hesitated again, rubbing the back of her neck, clearly still unsure. “It’s just…” She sighed, shaking her head. “Yesterday. When Beth dropped the jar.”

Viv reacted immediately.

Steph must’ve noticed because she hesitated before continuing, treading even more carefully now. “I—I saw how you reacted,” she said, voice gentle. “How you flinched. How you stepped back before you even realized you were moving. And then—” she exhaled, glancing at Viv briefly before looking away, “you just… froze.”

Viv lowered her gaze to the floor, fingers twitching against her knee. She exhaled softly, passing a hand over her face like she was trying to steady herself.

She swallowed, glancing toward Viv before speaking again, voice still soft. “Has Beth ever done anything like this before?”

Viv’s jaw tightened slightly, her fingers twitching against her knee. She shook her head once. “No.” Her voice was quiet but sure.

Steph exhaled through her nose, nodding. She had expected that answer, but she still took a second before she spoke again, this time even more hesitant. “Has… has it happened with someone else?”

Viv didn’t answer right away. She shifted slightly, her hands pressing against her lap, like she was trying to keep them still. Then, finally, she nodded—just barely, so hesitant that Steph might have missed it if she wasn’t paying attention.

Steph’s stomach twisted at the confirmation. Without thinking too much about it, she moved a little closer, wrapping an arm around Viv’s back. She didn’t pull her in, didn’t push, just let her know she was there.

Viv swallowed hard, her eyes fixed on a random point on the floor.

Steph let them sit in silence for a beat before she spoke again, her voice even softer now. “Was it… her?”

They both knew who she meant.

Viv’s hand came up, rubbing at her eyes before she nodded once, a little more sure this time.

Steph sighed quietly, running a gentle hand through Viv’s hair. “Viv…” she murmured, voice filled with something heavy and aching.

Viv just blinked rapidly, like she was trying to push back the emotion creeping up on her.

Steph hesitated before asking, “Did it happen a lot?”

Viv shook her head immediately, but she was still tense. “No,” she whispered.

Steph muttered a quiet reassurance, brushing her thumb against Viv’s shoulder in comfort. Then, after a moment, she asked carefully, “Was it like… what happened yesterday?” She swallowed before adding, “Screaming and stuff?”

Viv nodded again, just once.

Steph felt something clench in her chest. She exhaled, trying to push back the anger that flared in her gut—anger not at Viv, not at this conversation, but at whoever made her feel like this in the first place.

She didn’t know if she wanted to ask the next question, but she needed to. “Was it ever… more than that?”

Viv hesitated again, then shook her head. “No,” she said, but then her voice cracked slightly as she added, “Just once or twice. But nothing like—” she trailed off, swallowing hard before finishing, “nothing like what you’re thinking. Just a bit more.”

Steph exhaled, relief and sadness mixing together. She leaned in slightly, pressing the softest kiss to Viv’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, Viv,” she whispered.

Steph let out a slow breath, giving Viv a moment before she spoke again. The weight of everything they had just talked about still hung in the air, thick and heavy, and she didn’t want to push, didn’t want to rush her.

Then, after a long beat, Viv’s voice came, small and hesitant. “Don’t tell Beth. Please.”

Steph turned to her immediately, eyes soft but firm. “I won’t,” she promised, no hesitation in her voice. “It’s not my place.”

Viv nodded, exhaling softly, but she still looked uncertain, like something was tugging at her. She stared at her hands, fingers twitching slightly in her lap, like she was debating whether or not to keep speaking.

Steph didn’t say anything, just let the silence stretch between them, patient, waiting.

Then, finally, Viv swallowed hard and said, barely above a whisper, “I want to tell her.” Her voice wavered, unsteady, and she blinked quickly like she was trying to push away whatever was building in her chest. “I just… don’t know how.” She sucked in a breath and added, “And I don’t want her to be mad again for me not telling her something.”

Steph’s heart squeezed at how small Viv sounded. She gave her arm a soft squeeze before shifting slightly to face her more. “Viv,” she said gently, waiting until the other woman finally glanced at her. “She won’t be mad.”

Viv let out a breath, clearly unconvinced.

“She won’t,” Steph repeated, more certain now. “She’s going to be upset that you went through this alone, yeah. And she’s going to wish she knew sooner. But not because she’s mad at you. Because she loves you.” She softened her voice even more. “And because she would’ve wanted to be there for you.”

Viv swallowed hard, her jaw tensing slightly. “But what if—” She shook her head. “What if she thinks I should’ve told her before? What if she’s just… done with me being like this? Not talking about things?”

Steph’s expression didn’t shift, staying steady. “That’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t know that,” Viv muttered, rubbing a hand over her thigh.

Steph nudged her gently. “I do, actually.”

Viv let out another breath, this time slightly unsteady, and nodded, just once.

Steph gave her arm another squeeze before letting go. Then, with a small smirk, she added, “She might interrogate you, though.”

That finally pulled a small, breathy laugh from Viv, barely there but real. She wiped at her eyes quickly and nodded again. “I know.”

As Viv wiped at her eyes, trying to clear the last remnants of her tears, Lotte’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready!”

Viv inhaled slowly, grounding herself for a moment before she swiped her hands over her face one last time. She let out a quiet breath, sitting up a little straighter.

Steph, still beside her, leaned in just slightly. “You’re good,” she murmured softly. “No one will notice. Don’t worry.”

Viv nodded, her lips pressing together briefly. “Thanks,” she muttered.

Then, as she moved to stand, Steph reached for her, wrapping her arms around her in a tight, grounding hug. Viv barely hesitated before leaning into it, her arms coming up to hold onto Steph just as tightly, as if the embrace was something she needed more than she realized.

They stood there like that for a moment, neither speaking, just breathing.

From the dining area, Katie, already seated, glanced toward them, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as she turned to Beth. “Steph’s really close with your girlfriend today,” she joked, voice light.

Beth let out a short, forced laugh, barely reacting beyond that, her focus too fixed on Viv. Her eyes traced over her face, her posture, the way she held onto Steph for that extra second before pulling away. And then—subtle but unmistakable—she noticed it.

Viv’s eyes. Still slightly red.

Beth’s stomach twisted, her fingers tightening slightly where they rested against her thigh. She barely heard Katie laughing at her own joke, barely registered anything beyond the way Viv was holding herself, the way she blinked a little too fast, like she was making sure there were no more signs of whatever had just happened. She wanted to say something. To stand up, to go to her, to ask if she was okay.

She just watched as Viv finally let go of Steph, giving her a small nod before stepping toward the dining table, taking the seat that Lotte had set out for her, and acting as if nothing had happened at all.

Dinner passed in a blur for Viv. She spoke when necessary, answering questions with as few words as possible, but for the most part, she stayed quiet. It wasn’t that she wasn’t listening—she was. She just didn’t have the energy to engage. She was too tired, too drained, too caught up in her own head.

Beth wasn’t much better. She joined the conversations, laughed at the right moments, but her focus was elsewhere. Every now and then, she’d glance at Viv, searching for something—anything—but Viv never once looked back.

It wasn’t until Leah turned to Viv that she really had to say anything.

“How’s Manchester?” she asked casually, cutting into the food on her plate.

Viv barely hesitated before responding, “Cold.”

Katie snorted. “Yeah, no shit. I don’t know how you stand it.”

A few people chuckled, and Viv allowed herself a small smile, but she didn’t add anything else.

Lotte must’ve noticed because, before anyone could push the subject further, she smoothly redirected the conversation to something else—something about their next away game and the ridiculous hotel they were staying in. Viv appreciated it. She really, really didn’t want to talk about Manchester. About her knee. About anything real. She didn’t want the pity, the concern, the sympathy. She just wanted to eat, sit here, pretend for a little while that everything was fine.

Beth, on the other hand, thought Viv was doing a great job at ignoring her. And honestly? She got it. Viv hadn’t even glanced in her direction all night, hadn’t acknowledged her presence once, and Beth knew she deserved it. She knew she had no right to expect anything different.

After dinner, people started shifting around, picking up plates, moving to the couch, settling in small groups. Steph turned to Beth, her voice quieter now. “I’m going to Leah’s for a bit. We’re just gonna watch a movie, hang out.”

Beth nodded, but didn’t say anything. She could tell Steph wasn’t finished.

“You should ask Viv to go home with you,” Steph said after a beat, watching Beth carefully.

Beth’s stomach twisted. “I don’t think she wants to.”

Steph gave her a knowing look. “Maybe. But invite her anyway.” She hesitated, then added, “Mention Myle. She won’t say no to her.”

Beth let out a slow breath, nodding, but her chest felt tight.

She watched as Steph walked over to Viv, who was curled up on the couch, staring at the TV. Steph leaned down, wrapped her arms around her, and kissed the top of her head. Beth saw the way Viv leaned into it, the way her fingers curled around Steph’s arm just briefly before letting go.

Steph whispered something to her, and Viv nodded, murmuring something back that Beth couldn’t hear. But she saw the small, grateful smile Viv gave her before Steph pulled away and headed toward the door with Leah.

Beth lingered for a moment before she finally pushed herself forward, moving to sit on the couch—not too close, but close enough. She took a slow breath, steadying herself.

“Steph’s going to Leah’s for a while,” she started, keeping her voice even. “And, um… I was thinking of heading home soon.”

Viv didn’t react. Didn’t turn her head. Didn’t move.

Beth wet her lips, hesitating. “Do you want to come too?”

Silence.

Beth’s fingers curled slightly against her jeans before she tried again. “Myle misses you,” she said softly. “A lot.” Then, quieter, more careful, “And… I do too.”

Viv swallowed, her eyes still fixed on the TV. For a second, Beth thought she wasn’t going to answer at all. But then, after a beat, Viv finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ll get my jacket.”

Beth nodded, exhaling slowly as Viv stood. She watched as Lotte pulled Viv into a quick hug, whispering something to her before letting go. Viv waved slightly before heading toward the door.

The car ride home was awkward. Uncomfortable in a way that settled deep in Beth’s chest.

She kept her hands tight around the steering wheel, her eyes fixed on the road ahead, but she wasn’t really focused on driving. The silence between them was thick, heavier than she had expected. She had known things wouldn’t just go back to normal, but this—this felt worse.

Viv sat curled up in the passenger seat, her body angled slightly toward the window, watching the city lights blur past. She hadn’t said a word since they left, hadn’t even looked at Beth. Her arms were crossed, her fingers tucked into the sleeves of her sweater like she was trying to make herself smaller.

Beth stole quick glances at her, waiting for any sign, any shift, but Viv didn’t move. She just kept staring out the window, her face unreadable.

Beth wanted to say something—wanted to break the silence, to fix whatever this was—but every thought that crossed her mind felt wrong. Too casual, too serious, too soon. So she just swallowed hard, tapped her fingers against the wheel, and focused on the drive.