I grin, turning toward her, but it quickly turns into a grimace as the shift cuts through my ribs. “Merda.”
“Take it easy,” Carla murmurs, placing a hand on my arm.
“Congratulations on the win.”
“You were the only person I wanted to tell,” she admits, her voice cracking. “I kept looking for you in the stands, even though I knew you weren’t coming. And when we won, I realized that the only person I want to share the news with is you. I’m sorry, Luca. I pushed you away because I panicked. The coaching, the call-up, the camp…it all got to be so big and all I could think about was, if I don’t give this opportunity my everything, will I ruin my career? And if I don’t have my career, who am I?”
“You’ll always be Carla García. Fútbol doesn’t define you.”
“I know that; I learned that this year. But the media and influencer assumptions that I’ve given up my career for yours, feeling like I was doing battle every day with Sergio, knowing that Alicante Atléticas is my best shot at playing for a Spanish club, it all compounded into this huge thing in my mind. And I didn’t know a way forward where you and I still make each other a priority.”
“It doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a give and take, a learning curve. But I wanted to try with you, Carla. And you just gave up.”
She averts her gaze. “I know. And I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” I try to sit up straight and grit my teeth as the movement jars my limbs. “I love you, Carla. But I don’t want, or need, your pity.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“Okay. Well, you can see that I’m fine. The recovery time isn’t bad, all things considered. I won’t be able to coach much at camp but we have a solid team of coaches. I can still oversee things and I trust that you and I can maintain a sense of professionalism there.”
“Of course,” she says, looking flustered.
I dip my chin. “Don’t you need to get some sleep? You leave for Alicante tomorrow morning.”
“I’m not going.”
“What?” I wheeze, then swear. “You have to go!”
She shakes her head. “I already left the coach a message on my way over here.”
“To say what?”
“That I had a family emergency and wouldn’t be there tomorrow. That I’d update her as soon as I could.” She shrugs, nonchalant.
“A family emergency? Carla, this is your opportunity, this is what you worked for. You can’t blow it off because I got into a little accident.”
“A little accident? I wouldn’t call destroying your motorcycle and skidding across the pavement like a skipping stone little, DiBlanco.” Two patches of color dot her cheeks as her anger mounts. “And I know what I worked for. I also know what I sacrificed. And dammit, Luca, I’m not willing to sacrifice you. Or give up on us. So, I’m sorry that I freaked out and I’m sorry that I was selfish and pushed you away, but I’m in love with you, okay? I love you, Luca. And you can spend the next two weeks bitching at me, but baby, I’m taking you home and I’ll be taking care of you.” She’s nearly out of breath as she finishes her rant.
I stare at her, a little surprised, a lot turned on. But she doesn’t look embarrassed or ashamed or anything but…certain.
“I’m the caretaker,” I remind her.
“Not this time.”
“I don’t want you to miss your shot.”
“Too bad. Family first, remember?”
I snort, then close my eyes and nod. “Family first.” I open my eyes to find her peering at me. “Are you sure?”
“More than anything.”
I smile, relief flowing through me so strongly, it blocks out the discomfort that even the painkillers couldn’t mask. I lay my head back on my pillow and give her hand a little tug. “Then kiss me like you mean it, Carla. I almost died today.”
She shakes her head, but a genuine smile crosses her face. She stands and leans over the side of my bed. Placing a hand on the pillow next to my head, she dips and brushes her lips against mine.
“Missed your sweetness,” I admit.
