The Little Things [Book 1]

Chapter Fifty-Three: Sending Off

"Good morning," Thomas said to Mark, who was already sat at a booth and looked absolutely exhausted. "Long night?"

"Fell asleep around five," Mark said with a yawn.

Thomas chuckled and rested his head in his palm. Penny was soon to their side, ready to take their order. Mark had the pancakes and Thomas got a cream cheese bagel with a side of salad. Mark looked down with judgment at the lettuce on Thomas's plate, as he drowned his pancakes in maple syrup.

"How was training yesterday?" he asked and shoved a big piece of fluffy pancake in his mouth.

"Exhausting. But apparently, I have a reputation," Thomas replied.

"Oh?!" Mark said and urged him to go on.

"I met this guy, Ronnie, and he told me I was good," Thomas said and shrugged. "How was Pride?" he asked.

"Fun. Tiring. You should come with next year," Mark said.

"Mark..." Thomas muttered.

"Yeah, yeah, I know..."

"How come you're comfortable at Pride?" Thomas asked, shifting the subject away from himself. "Like with your panic disorder... and the crowd".

"I've had small panic attacks at Pride before. But the feeling of being safe and heard and included helps calm me," Mark replied and eased back in the booth. He took a sip from his coffee and went back to eating. "How are things at home?"

Ever since Abigail had given birth to little George, their parents –and especially their mother- had started spending more time at Abi and Killian's place. She wanted to help out and she loved babies so there she was. Thomas hadn't minded, the quiet was a nice change of pace for the permanently ran-out soccer player, but it was weird not having her around that often.

"Quiet. My mom is always talking about George. Dad is tired from work. Same thing as always..." Thomas replied.

Mark could tell that something was off about Thomas, but he wasn't going to pressure him about it. Instead, he decided to let him figure it out himself and talked about something else.

About an hour and a half later, Mark pulled up at Thomas's house. He turned to Thomas and stopped short when he saw the hesitation in Thomas's features. He seemed deep in thought, biting his lower lip.

"Thomas..." Mark started and tried to reach out to him, but Thomas jerked away.

"I talked to Evangeline this morning," Thomas said. "I was offered a position as a substitute striker".

"In a major league club?" Mark asked slowly.

"Yes". Thomas still bore an unreadable expression so Mark was unsure how to respond. At last, a huge grin split his features.

"That's great!" When he got no response other than a half-smile he started to worry. "Thomas...?"

"I'm sorry," Thomas blurted out. Mark pulled back confused and surprised at Thomas's words. "There's a lot on the line. That spot can build my future. That spot is my future. I'm –" Thomas paused and for the first time throughout the whole drive to his home he looked Mark in the eyes. There were tears in Thomas's eyes. "I'm breaking up with you".

"Wait... Thomas, what...?"

"I can't keep on doing this. I need to focus on my future. I need to focus on soccer. And the truth is that ever since I met you, I haven't," Thomas said.

"Ever since you... do I need to remind you that you were the one who kissed me first? You were the one who liked me first," Mark snapped.

"I was. I know that. And I don't want to do this".

"Then don't!" Mark interrupted him.

"I have to. Mark, there is nothing more important to me than soccer. Okay? Nothing. You can't ask me not to give it my all..."

"I'm not asking that of you," Mark raised his voice, but he didn't care. This was not happening. Not again. "I'm not asking you to give up your dream or not do anything you need to do in order to become a professional soccer player. I'm just asking you not to break up with me for it. We don't need to break up for you to achieve your dream..."

"But we do. I can't play if I have distractions..."

Mark sat back in his seat. A heavy sigh left his lips and then it was followed by a low chuckle. He shook his head and looked at Thomas again, now with tears in his eyes.

"Since when am I a distraction to you?"

Thomas looked back at him and his lower lip trembled. He hated having to do this. He hadn't wanted to do this. But there was no other alternative.

"You were always a distraction".

Mark lowered his head as a tear rolled down his face and he started shaking his head.

"Get out of my car..." His voice was barely above a whisper and it broke Thomas's heart. When Thomas didn't move, Mark looked up at him, anger and pain in his gaze. "I said, get out".

Thomas didn't need to be told another time. He opened the car and was halfway to his house when he heard Mark start his car and leave. He walked inside, each step filling him up with even more guilt. This was what he had to do.

When Mark reached his house he just didn't care. He was done. He opened the front door and snapped it close behind himself with a loud bang. From the living room, his parents were startled.

"Mark?" Marigold called, but he didn't answer. They shared a look and barely managed to see Mark go upstairs to his room in a hurry. They shared another look and his mother decided to go follow him.

More tears were spilling down Mark's face and he seemed crazed in his actions. When Mari reached his room she stopped with a sigh at the door. Mark was ripping apart the pictures on his wall. The pictures of Thomas.

"Sweetie?" she mused as Mark stopped and braced himself against the wall. "It's going to be okay..." she added with slow steps.

Her hand hovered over Mark's shoulder and she turned him around. His tears broke her and without a word she pulled him in her arms. He sobbed into the crook of her neck with no end. Her eyes moved to the wall and she noticed that Mark hadn't ripped off one photograph. It was of Thomas sitting at the garage, smiling, with the afternoon sun on his features. That was such a nice photograph.

"You're going to be fine," she assured him, running a hand through his hair and kissing the side of his head.