The Younger Man: A Novel

by Halle, Karina

  Chapter 26

  Alejo

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I glance up from the book I’m reading and take off my glasses to look at Thalia, who is staring at me quizzically.

  We’re at her apartment, sprawled on her couch, having “pajama day.” The term is in quotes because for most of the morning we’ve been in bed, naked, and not doing much else than making each other moan.

  But we’ve now managed to slip on pajamas and are in the middle of the lounging part, which comprises of me sitting on the end of the couch with her lying across it, her feet in my lap, both of us drinking coffee and reading.

  I have to say, pajama day has to be one of my favorite days. And it’s sorely needed too, considering we’ve been back to work for the last week and this is the first day off. We had a game last night against Valencia, which we barely won, and my body is exhausted and still trying to play catch-up after all the food and fun over the holidays.

  “What is it?” I ask. From the serious expression on her face, I know it’s something important to her.

  “Where do you see us in a year from now?” she asks. Her voice is so small, her posture so timid, I find it adorable. As if she thinks that question would scare me off.

  “Hopefully right here, having a pajama day,” I tell her honestly.

  “And in five years?”

  Oh, she’s really going for it. I tilt my head, studying her. This isn’t like her at all. Usually she shies away from any talk of the future. I’m always the one trying to dream on and make plans.

  “I don’t know. I just know I’ll be with you.”

  “What about in twenty years?”

  I laugh. “My answer hasn’t changed, Thalia.”

  “But,” she begins, rubbing her lips together, something she does when she searches for the right words, “in twenty years from now, you’re going to be forty-four years old. You’ll still be in the prime of your life. And me? I’ll be sixty.”

  “So?”

  “So? Sixty!”

  “Sí. And I’ll be forty-four. I don’t understand.”

  She sighs noisily. “I’m not going to look like this,” she says gesturing to herself. “Okay? I’m going to look old. I’m going to look sixty. I won’t be able to delay aging, it’s going to happen to me and you’re going to be looking fit and as handsome as fuck. Maybe even more handsome than you are now.”

  “That is impossible,” I tell her dramatically.

  “You get my point now. You’re not going to want to be with me anymore.”

  I fight the urge to roll my eyes. She’s sensitive about this and very serious and I don’t want her to think her feelings aren’t valid.

  I get up from my end of the couch and sit right next to her, running my thumb under her lip. “Listen to me, amor mío. I love you. I love you for the person you are now and the person you will be. I’m very aware that you’ll change and so will I. But what I feel for you won’t. Don’t you see what we have? This,” I press my lips to hers before pulling back and searching her eyes, “this goes beyond looks. This is about a connection of the souls. It’s how we knew we were meant for each other the moment we laid eyes on each other. And that connection, that’s not going to go away with age, it’s only going to strengthen.”

  She stares at me, seemingly in awe. “Where did you come from Alejo Albarado?”

  “España,” I tell her. I peer over at her coffee on the table and see that it’s empty. “And you need a refill.”

  I pick up her cup and bring it over to the coffee machine when there’s a knock at the door.

  I freeze, looking at Thalia who springs to her feet.

  She rushes over to the door and I know she’s lambasting it for not having a peephole. “Who is it?” she asks, her voice a little high.

  “Is Alejo with you?” comes the voice on the other side.

  Mateo’s voice.

  Shit!

  “Uh,” Thalia says but I can’t have her lie. She’s not good at lying and I don’t want to lie to Mateo right now. Don’t ask don’t tell is one thing but if he’s asking…

  I give her the motion that I’m going to handle it and I open the door.

  Mateo is standing there in a long black coat and he looks pissed.

  His eyes dart from me in my t-shirt and plaid pants to Thalia in her matching pink pajama set, and it’s quite obvious we can’t pretend I’m here so she can check up on my knee.

  He strides purposefully through the door to the middle of the apartment and looks around. It’s probably the first time he’s been in here but he doesn’t let it distract him for long.

  “I need to have a word with the two of you,” he says, looking grim as he eyes us. “I think you better sit down.”

  I exchange a worried glance with Thalia and the two of us sit down on the couch while Mateo stands. I’m prepared for there to be a lot of pacing.

  “I know about the two of you,” Mateo says, the pacing beginning.

  “Vera,” Thalia mutters angrily under her breath.

  “No, it wasn’t Vera,” Mateo says, then shakes his head, looking aghast. “Wait, did you tell Vera? Does she know?”

  Thalia’s lips go together in a firm line and she doesn’t say anything.

  “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Alejo told me as much.”

  “What?” Thalia exclaims, looking to me in shock.

  “This was a long time ago,” he adds.

  “But wait, you mean he knew and you didn’t tell me?” she asks me.

  I guess I did kind of sweep that one under the rug. “Please,” I say to her. “I didn’t want to trouble you with it. It was after Manchester and he said he figured it out between us. At the time we were on a break—”

  “Which clearly didn’t last,” Mateo says gruffly, “even though you promised me it would.”

  “I don’t recall promising you anything,” I tell him, narrowing my eyes. I would never promise something like that.

  “So then you should have promised me,” Mateo says. “Look, you guys. You both know that this is against the rules. No member of the staff, whether that includes the trainers, the doctors, the coaches, or the therapists, can have any relationship or sexual contact with the players. This will get you fired, Thalia.”

  “So, you’re firing me,” she says softly.

  “No,” he says, running his hand down his face. “Look, I’m not. I’m not…that’s not going to be up to me, do you understand?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t. Explain.”

  Grumbling, Mateo pulls out his phone, swipes through a few pictures and then comes to one on someone’s Instagram post.

  It’s a picture of me and Thalia at the airport, I think before we flew to Tenerife.

  “Who took that?” Thalia asks. “I never saw that pic.”

  “I don’t know, some Madridista super fan,” Mateo says. “It was posted on his Instagram yesterday. He was excited he saw you at the airport Alejo and wasn’t able to post until now. And so first of all, I need you to explain this picture to me. What’s happening? You both are together, you have tickets in hand, where are you going?”

  “I took her to Tenerife to spend Christmas with me and my family.”

  Mateo nods. “Okay.”

  “So?”

  “So, Dr. Costa is the one who found this photo. I don’t know how, maybe he knows hashtags, but regardless he found it and sent it to me this morning.”

  “Oh fuck,” Thalia whimpers, covering her face with her hands.

  “He’s going to bring it up with Jose tomorrow. I had to come over here and get a backstory for this.”

  “Well that’s the backstory,” I tell him, even though panic is starting to claw through my chest. “The truth.”

  “But I can’t tell him the whole truth,” Mateo says. “Just that you became friends because of your knee and you knew she was spending Christmas alone so you invited her. Thankfully you both had the sense to at least behave respectably in public.”
He pauses and gives me a sympathetic look. “But here is where the problem starts. I’m going to tell Dr. Costa and Jose this and they’re going to believe it. They’ll believe it because they believe me and they trust me. But they’re going to be suspicious of you both and they are going to watch you like a hawk. Believe me when I say Dr. Costa would rather you be gone, Thalia, don’t think he won’t look for the first opportunity.”

  “Okay, we’ll just…be even more discreet,” I say. “We can handle that.”

  “I don’t think you understand, Alejo,” Mateo says, wincing at his own words. “I can’t keep covering for you. I’ll do it this time so that Thalia can save her job but that’s it. I’ve got my own problems and my own matters to take care of. I have a whole team. We need to focus on that, I need to focus on that. This…it’s a distraction from the big picture and I wish there was another way but, honestly, I don’t think there is.”

  “So you’re breaking us apart,” I tell him bitterly, starting to feel anger swell through me. “Because it’s too distracting to you.”

  “No, Alejo,” Thalia speaks up, her voice emotionless. She stares at the floor. “He’s leaving it in our hands. For us to make our own decisions.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mateo says, walking toward the door. “But this is the way it’s got to be.”

  I get up and walk toward him. “You of all people are supposed to understand!” I yell at him, the words coming out vicious, surprising me.

  Mateo flinches like I’ve hit him. “I do understand. This isn’t easy for me either, Alejo. I understand, but I also know that when it comes to love, life does what it can to fuck things up. You’re both smart, consenting adults here. You both knew what the risk was by being together and you took that risk. And now…now you are left with choices. I can’t tell you what the right choice is, either. You have to figure that out for yourself. Selfishly, I hope you both make the right one for the sport, for the team, because I can’t imagine this game without either of you in it.”

  He gives us one last look and a stiff smile and goes for the door. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

  The door closes.

  I’m left standing there, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard they might break. I have the most awful feeling in my stomach, like I’ve swallowed a ball of acid that’s slowly disintegrating, spreading its caustic liquid throughout my body and eroding me from the inside out.

  Slowly, I turn to look at Thalia.

  She’s sitting on the couch, hands wringing together, her face pale. Her eyes look almost dead, they’re staring into space, frozen in some kind of fear.

  “Thalia,” I say gently. “We can fix this. We can work through this.”

  She doesn’t say anything but I notice how hard she’s breathing. Her chest is rising and she’s trying to breathe deep through her nose. Maybe avoiding a panic attack, but fuck if I’m not about to panic for the both of us.

  “Thalia, please say something.”

  She rubs her lips together, eyes still frozen.

  Her mouth opens and the words are slow to come out.

  “I…knew this was going to happen,” she says, almost as if in a dream. “I knew this was going to happen. From the start, I knew that it couldn’t go on forever. That at some point I would have to choose. That’s why I resisted you for so long, for as long as I could. My heart…I couldn’t bear it breaking it again.” A lone tear trails down her cheek. “And yet, here we are. My heart is breaking and I’m not sure how I’m ever going to get through it.”

  What is she saying?

  I slowly walk over to her, sit down beside her on the couch, leaning in to try and capture her attention, my hand over her hands. She feels cold.

  “Thalia, I’m not breaking your heart. We’re going to be together. I promise you.”

  Finally, she turns to look at me, eyes welling with tears, terror etched on her brow. “How? How can we be together now?”

  “We keep sneaking around. We find a way. I love you. I love you so much that…it’s impossible to keep us apart. I’ll love you until I’m dead, and I’m not dying anytime soon.” I grip her hands tight but she doesn’t grip them back.

  I need her to grip them back.

  I need her to hold onto me and not let go.

  “Thalia, please,” I beg. “We can make it work.”

  “We can’t,” she says softly, staring into space again. “It’s impossible.”

  “We’re the impossible. We’re the inevitable.”

  “Alejo,” she says, her voice cracking. “We can’t sneak around. We will get caught and I will be fired. Mateo may be a friend to you, even a father figure, but he’s still your coach, and he’s my boss. He will do what he can for you but…not at the expense of his career. Or yours. I…” She looks at me, the tears spilling now as she shakes her head. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No,” I tell her, grabbing her face, kissing away her tears, the salt hitting my tongue and making my heart splinter. “No, no, there is nothing to be sorry for. This isn’t the end. We’re not…we’ll find a way.”

  “There is no way, don’t you see?” she pleads. “Unless I quit.”

  “You are not quitting! I’m quitting.”

  “You can’t. I would never let you do that and you can’t anyway.”

  “Then I’ll buy out my contract.”

  “It’s not worth it!”

  “You’re worth it!” I yell. “You’re worth everything to me, more than the game, more than anything else I hold dear in the world. Fuck, Thalia, you are my world and everything in it. You are my sun, my heart. You’re…not doing this.”

  “Then you know what we have to do,” she says. “We have to end this.”

  I shake my head violently, still holding onto her face, the panic and the horror a fist in my chest, squeezing the air and the life out of me. “There is no end. There is no end. And you’re not quitting. We can make it work.”

  But the more I keep saying that, the more pushback I get from her, and the more hopeless I feel.

  It’s almost as if she wants to give up on us.

  Like she wants this to end.

  How can that be? Doesn’t she feel what I feel for her?

  “Do you love me?” I ask her, so much hope and anguish in my words, so afraid of the answer.

  “Of course I love you,” she says.

  “No,” I tell her, trying to swallow. “No, there is no of course when it comes to love. It is not guaranteed. It’s not to be taken for granted. Do you love me? Do you really love me?”

  “Yes!” she cries out. “I love you Alejo.”

  “Then don’t leave me,” I plead, my hands wrapping around hers, holding on tight as I bring them to my lips. “Please don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. Don’t do this.”

  “I have to,” she says, her voice choked.

  I can’t hold back the pain any longer.

  My tears spill onto our hands as I kiss them, holding on, holding on.

  Please don’t let me go.

  But she’s letting me go.

  “This can’t be it,” I whisper against her knuckles, tasting her, feeling her, knowing I’ll never get to do this again.

  I can’t imagine life without her.

  I can’t…

  I close my eyes and bring her into me, wrapping my arms around her as she cries into my chest and my tears fall onto her shoulder.

  “Don’t leave me,” I say hoarsely, my words choked. “Please. I beg you to stay.”

  “There is no other way,” she sobs against me. “We knew this was coming. We knew it from the start, the risks, and we took the risks and we fell for each other and we loved each other and now…now comes that day we knew was coming. The day…the day it ends for us.”

  I pinch my eyes shut, the pain swallowing me whole, making me feel like my soul has been ripped right out of me, leaving a gaping hole in its place.

  I don’t think I’ve loved anything in my life the way that I love her.

  He
r smile first thing in the morning.

  The way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she laughs, it leaves me weak at the knees.

  The way she stares at me when she thinks I’m not looking, the look of someone in awe of me, a look that tells me how much she adores me.

  The way I’ve erased her sadness, how I’ve made her laugh.

  The way she throws herself into her job with so much love and self-assurance, never asking for admiration or encouragement or praise, just doing something she feels she’s meant to do.

  And that’s why I can’t ask her to leave her job.

  And she’s right that I can’t leave mine.

  But I would. If I could. If I wasn’t under contract, I would leave Real Madrid. Perhaps go to Atlético. Maybe even Barcelona. It doesn’t matter, I would leave it for her.

  But I can’t.

  And I can’t let her quit.

  And I don’t want her to get fired. How humiliating it would be. I would never do that to her.

  Yet, she’s giving up so easily. How can she give up so easily on us?

  How can she feel what I feel and not try to find some other solution?

  There has to be one, there has to be another way.

  “Thalia,” I say softly, pulling back to stare at her beautiful face. “I know you’re scared. I’m terrified. But I can’t let you go. I can’t let this be the end of us. I can’t…you’ve taught me so much, to love so fully, so completely, that if you let this end here, right now…I don’t know where that love is supposed to go. Am I supposed to love you from afar? Am I supposed to go into work each day and see you and know that the love we had is dying somewhere because we didn’t give it a shot?”

  “We gave it a shot, Alejo,” she sniffs. “We gave it all we had.”

  “No, we didn’t,” I tell her. “Because you’re giving up now. So easily.”

  She blinks at me, her face crumbling. “So easily?” she repeats. “Why do you think this is easy for me? I’m breaking here, Alejo! I am dissembling into many parts that I don’t even recognize. I lost my heart to you, how on earth do you think this easy? I lost my heart to you and I don’t even want it back, I just…please, don’t make me out to be the bad guy here. I’m not.”