football imagines <3

(5) betrayal - marcus rashford

"You're okay? You've been quiet all evening."

Marcus looked at you, grabbed your hand tightly under the table and nodded his head. His actions were not really believable, but you realised that it wasn't the time nor the place to address why your boyfriend had been acting strange all day.

You and Marcus were hosting a few friends over at your place for a game's night - the last one was held at Jesse's - and so far, the mood had been great. It had been a few hours into the evening when he got a call, excusing himself from the game to take it in your bedroom. Ever since then he had been in a sour mood and was not participating like he did before, in the games. Games that he also chose, by the way.

"Give. Me. My. Money." You insisted, with a laugh, to one of your friends as they landed on properties that you owned in Monopoly.

"Let me keep some, at least. Don't be a dictator." Shaking your head, you motioned that they pay up by opening and closing your hand repeatedly. Everyone groaned as one of the last (surviving) players retired their monopoly piece since giving out his last money to you.

It would then make you victorious and the current winner of monopoly.

"You see that, Marcus..." You leaned back to where your boyfriend was sitting and showed him the cash, "...that is how you win and get the cash."

"That's great, babe. Good job." Marcus replied, too monotonous for your liking. As if his body was here but his mind was completely somewhere else. It was really starting to bother you too. What was that phone call about? Was it about his career? Did something happen?

But once again, you convinced yourself that you didn't need to know. There were just some things that he wanted to keep personal and you understood, because there were things that you kept persona and hadn't told him. It's just the dynamic in which your relationship was based on - nothing too complicated nor too easy.

*******

The last person in your friend group had left half an hour ago, and with that the excitement from the night just dissipated.

Marcus's tense silence as you cleaned up the living room overpowered the atmosphere so much that you excused yourself to the kitchen, in order, to not feel all that pressure on you.

"Here's some dishes." He came up behind you, scaring you so much that the glass in your hands fell into the sink and broke.

"Jesus, Marcus." You exclaimed. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry." He scratched behind his head, trying his best to avoid looking in your eyes. "I'll clean it up."

You stood in the awkward silence for a while before you abandoned the dishes, pulled Marcus by his sleeve and lead him to the living room. "Sit." You demanded as you pushed him onto the couch and made your way next to him, leaning your arm on the edge of the sofa and waited for him to say something, anything.

"So? Aren't you going to talk?" You pressed.

"Because you know that we don't let things fester, we talk it out like adults. If you have something to say, say it. Don't think I didn't see those pityingly looks you've been giving me all night. Out with it."

Marcus's first instinct is to bite his nails but knowing that he has been trying to kick that habit, he starts pulling his sleeves over his fingers. His bottom lip, however, was getting most of the abuse as that has become the nail-biting replacement. "I have something to say."

He cleared his throat and finally looked your way, the look in his eyes suggested something serious and all of a sudden your back straightened, "I'm listening." 

"But I need you to promise me one thing..." He desperately looked in your eyes as you tried to encourage him to continue his sentence, "...you can't get mad."

"You know I can't promise that, Marcus, not until I've heard what you've done."

His breathing sounds uneven, and shaky, and like he was on the verge of crying. His hands found yours and he just held them... held them tight... tighter than he's ever held your hands before. Slowly bringing them up to his lips and kissing them, mumbling "I'm sorry's" on each knuckle. Resting your hands on his cheeks and looking at you with tears lining his pretty eyes, his eyelashes fluttering with speed to keep them at bay.

"Marcus, you're scaring me." You could hear in your voice that you were begging but at this point, you didn't care. You just needed to know what upset Marcus to the point that he was crying and apologising (?) to you.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." He mumbled, a last time, before he lifted his head up and looked straight into your eyes. Eyes that you have become familiar with, waking up to those eyes, following those eyes during special moments, loving those eyes.

The eyes that you once knew, before, your whole world came crashing down before you, "I cheated on you, I'm sorry."

"Hm?" Was the first response that came out of you - why it did, you would never know. But you suspect it was the fact that you didn't register his words at first.

"What?" Was your next response, your voice getting all quieter and quieter and the ringing in your ears becoming louder and louder.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I wish I could say it was a mistake but it wasn't. I wanted it. But I do regret it, I regret kissing her, I regret sleeping with her, I regret everything." He continued, rubbing his cheeks in your hands.

As soon as the words registered in your mind, you pulled your hands away from his as if it was a boiling pot of water that scalded your skin. The words kept circling around you and you tried to swat it away like it was a fly but it kept coming back, it kept coming back to pester you. "You fucking asshole."

"How could you do this to me, you asshole?" You screamed as your fists met his chest. He tried grabbing you but you kept getting loose and aimed your weakened punches at his chest.

"How fucking could you, Marcus?"

"I'm sorry—"

"You are not fucking sorry, you are NOT. Because you would've been sorry BEFORE you slept with a random girl, NOT afterwards."

With each word, your voice was beginning to crack and your emotions began to show, the weight of betrayal that burdened your shoulders was much too great now.

You sat there with your head between your knees and just burst out crying, every word ingrained into your mind and all those years of being together - hell, you have only had one another - ruined, just like that. Years of memories that were made, all ruined within one stupid decision on Marcus's part. The fact that you have dedicated your life to being there, supporting him through his dreams and ambitions for him just to... throw it all away.

After a long few minutes, when it felt like all your tears had been spent, you turned to your boyfriend who looked as equally as broken as you do.

Marcus's nose was red since he kept wiping it with his black hoodie, wiping his tears in the process. "Why?"

"Why?" Marcus asked in confusion.

"Yes, why? Why now? I'm assuming this happened a while ago right..." You hated that he nodded. You still wanted this to be a dream that you can wake up from. "...so why now? Why tell me now?"

"The phone call— that was her— saying that— that she might— might be pregnant—"

"Oh." You felt disgusted with yourself, disgusted with Marcus and disgusted with life. You clasped your hands in front of your stomach and almost gagged, "Marcus, fucking hell, I trusted you. I trusted you with my life. I loved you. What wasn't enough?"

"Was I not enough, huh?"

"Was the sex not enough?"

"What wasn't enough, Marcus?"