Chapter 27 - Counting for Something

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When he died, I didn't care. I hadn't cared about him since Eden left. I hadn't loved him since I first remembered him hitting Mum. And I hadn't thought about him since we left Forbes and moved to the city.

My care was close to none.

My care for other things - people, places, sports - was so much higher. So much greater.

I couldn't understand why Mum, or Bindi, or Darcy, still had any love, or care, or thought for him. How could they? Yes, he was their father and husband, but he was an abusive, toxic, asshole, who cared about nothing except himself.

Maybe I was stubborn. Maybe I couldn't think from the perspective of anyone else. But I knew, that when he died, I was glad. Glad that his horrendous being of a person was no longer here. Although, the only person I had ever admitted that to, was Ellie.

After Leah had won the Euros, she, and the rest of England, were on a high. It was incredible to watch; seeing her become the face of women's football even more so than she was before, was everything that I wanted for her. I was so proud. So incredibly proud.

I thought about, once more, pushing away, not wanting to make our relationship even more public knowledge than it already was, and not wanting her to receive the hate I knew she was destined to get, but she reminded me, that she did not care.

"Stop being stupid," Leah said to me, as she was getting her hair and makeup done for an interview. She was wearing a light blue, and green knitted top, paired with white pants and a cute pair of loafers that she stole from my closet.

"I'm not," I said, sitting beside her, flipping through a trashy magazine that lay by.

"Yes, you are," she responded, taking the magazine out of my hand, and moving my face so I was staring at her, right in the eye.

"I love you, and you love me. What more is there?"

"Well, for starters, people are homophobic," I answered, quietly.

"What's this really about?" she asked.

"I- I'm just scared," I replied.

"About...?" Leah prompted, trying to get me to use my words.

"I don't know," I answered. Leah laughed softly, before leaning over to give me a small kiss.

"We're okay," she replied, "and we're going to be okay. Okay?"

"Okay," I responded, as Leah soon got up and went over to do her interview. I watched her as she answered all the questions, speaking with such grace and poise. I couldn't lift the smile off my face as I watched my girl do everything she was meant to. Everything that the world intended for her to do.

One of the last questions asked: What was the best message she had received?

"Well, my girlfriend sent the funniest message after the game," Leah laughed. "But besides that, got a pretty good one for David Beckham."

"What'd it say?" the interviewer asked.

"Which one?" Leah joked.

"Both?" he responded.

"Well, Tippah, my girlfriend, said," Leah started to say, as she got her phone out. I put my head in my hands already knowing I was going to be incredibly embarrassed.  "and I quote: you did it, hot stuff. With two x's at the end." I cringed at myself. I sent that message after I had got home, quite drunk from the many drinks I had had.

"Oh wow, great message," the interviewer laughed.

"And David just said congrats and good luck, and things," she finished.

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