The Meeting

I Won't Be Long

Leah POV

Time hadn't changed her, she still looked as perfect to me as she had the first time I laid eyes on her. That day was the strangest feeling, I expected to feel sadness when I entered that room, but it was impossible to feel anything beyond the butterflies that still fluttered around in my stomach every time I set eyes on her.

"We cuddlin'?" She grinned up at me, eyes heavy but smile just as bright.
"Always, Al."

I made my way into the bed beside her, feeling comfort and safety immediately in the arms of the person I'd prayed I'd spend my life with, and I had.

"I love you." I whispered.
"I love you." She whispered back.

We began to recall our favourite memories of our life together; from that first meeting to our wedding day, from each birth, to the times we thought we were over for good. I felt the need to bring up that time in my life that I regretted more than anything, I had to hear her say she forgave me one last time.

"I never meant to hurt you, you know?"
"Leah! If you're about to apologise again for Harriet, I swear to god." She chuckled.
"It's my biggest regret."
"It shouldn't be. It was part of our journey, if we hadn't been through that we could've maybe not been here today."
"You make everything better, Al. I wish you could make this better."
"I have a plan to help you, I promise."
"What is it?"
"It's a surprise." She laughed.
"I love that." I whispered.

She let out a yawn, and I knew it was almost time. Her body was tired, even if she was trying her best to fight it. I wasn't ready to let her go yet, though. I couldn't.

"Al, do you remember the day I won the World Cup?"
"Which time?" She jibed.
"The last time."
"Of course I do, I practically threw myself down those steps and onto that pitch.

Flashback:

"C'mon. Blow the fucking whistle!" I shouted.
"6 minutes of injury time." The assistant manager whispered in my ear.
"Fuck."

I paced up and down the grass, willing the girls to keep hold of the win for just six more minutes.

"Fuckkkkkk!" I shouted.

The referee had just blown the whistle for a free kick just outside the box, threatening our 3-2 lead that would win us the World Cup.

I couldn't watch, turning my back and gazing up into the stands. And then I saw her. She was stood staring right back at me, a wink and a smile for me as she gave me that reassurance from afar that she still believed we could do it. I saw her closed mouth smile change to a full grin, and that's when I knew.

We'd won.

I ran onto the pitch, trying to be respectful to our opponents, but unable to contain my excitement. So many had said I wouldn't do it, they'd said she thinks just because she captained a team to victory that she'll be able to manage a team to one. I had though, and I'd done it with my family by my side throughout.

"Incoming." Was all I heard from the players before I felt someone pouncing on my back.

I could smell her perfume before I even turned my head to look at her, kisses being placed across my cheek with no care for the hundreds of cameras that were likely pointed at all.

"My fucking superstar." She beamed.
"Did you just invade the pitch?" I chuckled, setting her down gently and turning around to wrap my arms around her waist.
"I did. And I'm probably on camera cheering for England right now, but my wife just won the World fucking Cup so let them try to arrest me. Let them try!"