Let Me In | Herophine Fic

I Don't Like This

HERO

My eyes slowly open in the familiar hotel we always stay in during our trips to Liverpool. Instantly, the shit feeling I've felt now for the last six days surfaces and I don't want to move out of the rather uncomfortable bed. Our trip here didn't go to plan at all. To say it was a failed trip is too much of an understatement. We lost. Four goals to fucking nil. They trounced us. Honestly, in hindsight, I've no idea what we were expecting really. They're what we're striving to be but the game yesterday was and is a stark reminder that we're a long way off being what they are as a team.

I feel awful. I let the team down with how I played and my attitude. The way I acted was and is completely unacceptable. It's everything a professional footballer, especially someone who's captain and wears the number 8 shirt for West Ham, shouldn't do. Not only have I let the team down, but I've also let myself down, the fans who travelled to watch us, the fans at home watching, my family and the club. I did everything I always said I wouldn't. The media will undoubtedly be commenting on my actions last night at Anfield but I've become quite adept at not googling myself, so that's what I'll continue to do and avoid any news channels.

I took it upon myself in the dressing room after the thrashing on the pitch to apologise to the players. Obviously, they were far from happy with me but Jack and Trent - after everyone else left - let me talk to them. I'm embarrassed by my performance and actions. And that, added to the fact Curt's words are still running riot in my head, I didn't get a wink of sleep. His words kept repeating and repeating as they have done now for the last six days. Another thing that spun around my mind was Jo and her reaction to what I did. I know she'll have seen it, she told me she'd be watching. What must she think of me after that?

Needless to say, I'm not looking forward to going home. Even though I have until next Monday off now and Mila finishes school today for Christmas and I'm picking her up, these two reasons don't seem to be enough to make me excited about returning to London. I'm just hoping Mila didn't see my outburst last night. My daughter seeing me in that light is the last thing I want. I just hope my mum and dad, for once, didn't watch the match with her. But I have a horrible feeling they did... Which means she'll have seen.

I don't want to leave the bed, but I've got to make a start on packing and getting myself ready to go home. I should be looking forward to everything ahead when in reality, I'm fucking dreading it. I hope for Curt's sake I don't see him for a long time. Jesus Christ, the things I'd do to him now after what he's done to me. I should be looking forward to going home for a variety of reasons, with Christmas on the horizon there are plenty of things I should be doing with Mila. Putting up the tree and sorting presents. But all I want to do is go home, lock the door and keep us together in there. Me and my little girl against the world. But that can't happen and I know it won't. It's just wishful thinking.

I should be looking forward to celebrating Christmas with Jo too. But God knows what she must think of me now. Again, I'm pretty sure that'll be wishful thinking now. Why would she even want me? Not after how I've ghosted her. But replying was something my mind and body wouldn't and still won't allow me to do. All because of these planted doubts. Everything still hangs on that what if and it feels horrendous. But there's nothing I can do now...

Pushing up out of the bed, I stretch my arms above my head and make a start on getting myself ready for the return to London. Even if doing things is the last thing I want to do. But I've got to, I've got to go home.

Heading down to the restaurant for breakfast, just as I'm in the elevator descending the floors of the hotel, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. But no excitement courses through me as there has been in the past. I know it won't be her. I lift my phone out of my jogger pocket and see a message from my mum, waiting for me. Sliding my thumb across the screen to unlock my phone, our text thread opens and I see her latest message to me.