Thirty-Seven.

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Last Chapter: "Immediately my feeling of achievement turned to worry as I saw the blood pool and remembered what had happened. God, I hoped Perrie and the baby were okay."

Alex's POV:

"Substitution for Liverpool."

I looked over at the manager in confusion. Why was he doing substitutions now? No one was injured, tired or playing so horrifically that they had to be taken off after only 40 minutes. I checked to see who was lined up to come on. Henderson. So that would mean a midfielder would be coming off, unless he wanted to take defender off and change the formation to make it more attacking, which wouldn't really make sense as our lead was there but it wasn't super comfortable.

One of the officials held up the board and the LEDs blinked into life, revealing the numbers of the players being swapped. 

14 in green and... 21 in red.

It was me? My name was announced around the stadium and I looked over at my manager in shock. In the least arrogant way possible, I'd been arguably the best player on the pitch. Why on earth was he taking me off? 

He was trying to shout something to me but I couldn't hear him. 

"Why?" I mouthed to him, gesturing my hands to convey my disbelief. I started jogging off, clapping for the fans who'd come to support. My manager was doing something with his arms - almost like a rocking baby action. Was he having a laugh? What on earth was he - oh my god, the baby!

"Baby?" I shouted, not caring who heard and he nodded. Oh fuck, the baby must be premature.

I began to sprint off the pitch. I had to get to the hospital as soon as possible. I had to get to Perrie as soon as possible.

I reached the sidelines very quickly, considering I'd been on the other side of the pitch, but before I could run off, my manager patted me on the back and Jordan grabbed my hand and said good luck. He then ran onto the pitch, leaving me to sprint off down the tunnel.

Immediately, I was greeted by a staff member. I didn't know who they were and I didn't care, as long as they got me to Perrie and the baby quickly. 

"Alex, Karen got a phone call from your son saying your wife's gone into labour. You need to grab your stuff and then call someone called Jordie, alright pal?" Said the man, who I now recognized as part of the coaching team.

"Yeah that's fine, thanks." I said, trying to get to the changing rooms as quickly as I could.

"Well played as well, and good luck with your baby!" He called after me.

"Thanks." I replied. The staff member walked off and I trudged to the changing rooms.

As soon as I arrived, I threw off my boots, barely even stopping to untie my laces. Slipping on my trainers, I pulled on my hoodie, grabbed my jogging bottoms, key and phone and made my way to the exit.

As instructed, the first thing I did when I left the changing room was call Jordie. Another Liverpool staff member walked alongside me, instructing me on how to get out, but I just ignored them and waited for my son to pick up the phone.

After several rings he hadn't picked up and it eventually went to voicemail. Why had he told me to call if he wouldn't pick up? Frustrated, I called Perrie instead to see if she would answer. Quickly, someone picked up. 

"Alex?" It was Jordie.

"Jordie, I've just been taken off, apparently on your orders? What the hell is going on?" I panted into the phone.

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