Page 60 of Off the Pitch

“Christian!” I turned my head and saw Hugo beckoning to me from the back corner of the room. At six foot four, he towered above most of the guests which made him super easy to spot. He’d removed the earlier coating of mud from our lunchtime match and replaced it with a well-tailored dark suit and orange tie, which was definitely a better option.

“Hey, you made it,” he said as I fitted myself into the empty space next to him.

“Just about. I didn’t think it would be so busy, though,” I said. “I knew Ali had a lot of family, but still.”

“This is nothing,” added Micah, slotting in behind me. “Wait until the wedding. I’m guessing it’ll be what, five, six hundred people?”

“Jesus,” Hugo muttered. “And I thought the hundred we had at mine was bad enough.”

“Not a fan of weddings, Hugo?” Paulo, our goalkeeper, teased, his brilliant smile lighting up his normally serious face. His mood had obviously been improved by the fact he’d kept a clean sheet today. That and the half-empty glass of champagne in his hand.

“I am, just not when I’m involved.” Hugo shuddered. “I’m not doing it again.”

“I thought you and Hélène were friends now?” Micah said.

“No.”

“Then why was she at your apartment last week?”

Hugo stared at him, stunned, as his cheeks lit up in an impressive shade of red. I suppressed a giggle as Paulo shot me a sly wink. Before anyone could say anything else about whether Hugo was booty calling his ex-wife, the ceremony began, and Hugo was saved.

It wasn’t long, but it was lovely. Ali’s father made a speech and then Liam did, in place of his own father, before he and Ali exchanged rings. It was so touching to watch him promise to take care of Ali and to hear him talk about being part of their family, and how they’d taken him in and always made him feel welcome. I’d never seen Liam look so happy before, and the way he looked at Ali was as if perfection had been made real before his eyes.

It was how I felt whenever I looked at David.

I still couldn’t believe that he wanted me over everyone else he’d met. Me, a complete closet case with daddy issues, anxiety, and rampant issues with perfectionism. Oh, and the habit of running away from my problems or suppressing them so far down that they’d never see the light of day again. I’d never be able to give him this. I still couldn’t find the words to tell my closest friends that I was gay, even if I knew they’d never judge me. I mean, one of them was openly into men as well as women.

Despite everything, I was still struggling with the idea that coming out wouldn’t ruin my career. For so long I’d been convinced that I could live my life in the closet because I’d never have a relationship anyway, so it really didn’t matter. I’d spent every waking moment obsessed with my own flaws and being the perfect player, one who would achieve the greatness I’d been told I had to achieve because nothing else mattered except reaching that point. I’d always brushed aside my achievements because they were merely stepping-stones or because there was always someone out there who had achieved more.

And without that greatness, I would be nothing.

My father had been dead for nearly eight years, and he still had a hold on my head.

In that moment, for the first time, I hated him for what he’d done to me.

Yes, he’d given me football. But he’d also tainted it.

Because of him, I still believed that nothing else mattered except achieving his dream. If I wavered, even for a second, then I would lose everything, and I would be worthless. Losing a game meant I was a failure, and I hadn’t tried hard enough. I had to be perfect—every strike, every touch, every pass.

I knew all of this wasn’t true, but I still couldn’t move past it. The idea of running away was easier than facing my issues.

And David… David deserved so much better than me. He deserved someone who could give him the moon, not someone who spent their time afraid that they’d get caught.

“Hey, you okay?” I twitched, rapidly shoving my thoughts into a box and burying them as I found myself looking at Hugo’s concerned face.

“Yeah, fine,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Just thinking about this week’s matches.”

Hugo’s face said he didn’t believe me, but luckily one of Ali’s sisters appeared with a gigantic platter of food, and I could change the conversation by asking what everything was. Given that we’d played today, I was definitely going to reward myself with as much food as I could manage, especially because Mrs. Chana’s food was always delicious.

“So,” I said, tearing a samosa in half. “You and Hélène?”

“We’re… working some things out,” Hugo shrugged. “But at least we’re not throwing things at each other anymore.”

“That’s good?”

“Yes… for a while we could hardly speak to each other.” Hugo sighed.

“What happened?” I asked, slightly dumbfounded. I knew that they’d split up, but I hadn’t realised how bad the situation was.

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