bound; governed by fate or extremely likely to occur.
"Face it, Marco. You and I are bound to one another. Even after all this time, even despite the consequences of our love, you can't keep yourself away from me-and neither can I."
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T H E 1 9 7 5 - Somebody Else "Every time I start to believe in anything you're saying, I'm reminded that I should be getting over it."
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"I'm fucked." Romessa whispered to herself in French as she stared at the stack of papers before her, the words and numbers molding together to form illegible sentences as she attempted to grade them. Her responsibilities were starting to catch up to her—it was mid-semester exam time at the university, and with two sections that had two hundred students each, Romessa had four hundred exams to grade within a week.
Now that her program had done its work in analyzing and generating a routine for Marco, Romessa been relieved of her duty to work directly with him—this was a relief. But that didn't mean they'd seen the last of one another, whether within the training facilities or on their own borrowed time. Romessa's work with the players of Borussia Dortmund was far from over—she'd been given the new assignment of using Athleta to help Julian and Mats develop their ability to use their left foot more often. It was a difficult task, but not nearly as difficult as having to see Marco the morning after she'd spent all night relinquishing herself to his touch.
Romessa was so squeezed for time that she'd resorted to grading exams at the training facilities. As she sat at an empty table near the kitchens and drowned out the noisy players around her—Marco among them—she tried her hardest to focus on her task, but it was hopeless. I shouldn't have drank so much last night, she thought. She'd attended the engagement party of Julian and Bella, where she was unable to restrain herself around so much free flowing alcohol. Even worse was being forced to watch Marco and Jessica together the entire night—Romessa didn't know how she would've gotten through it sober.
The Moroccan finally tore her eyes off of the test she was grading and gazed around, unable to focus with so many loud men around her. Marco was sitting with Mats, Julian, and William Seifert, an offensive coach that had begun his job around the same time as Romessa. William had been a hot topic the night before, catching the attention of several women—Romessa included—when he arrived to the engagement party, unbelievably handsome in a casual suit. Still, Romessa thought nothing of him now—just about everyone around her was good looking, anyways.
Romessa drew in a sharp breath and pushed her dark hair out of her eyes, thinking about the night before. Seeing Marco with his wife at the engagement party had been a reality check—not because she was reminded of the fact that Marco had a significant other whom he was legally binded to, but because she didn't. But I'm only twenty, Romessa reminded herself. I still have time. It wasn't often that Romessa feared she might never find anyone to love again, but at times, she did. She'd only ever experienced love with Marco, and although she'd convinced herself that she felt nothing for him, she hadn't convinced herself that she'd eventually be able to find anyone to live up to the expectations he'd set. So she coped by convincing herself that Marco's love was never real. She convinced herself that she was just an experiment to him; nothing more than somebody to keep him company during a lonely summer.
