Two Months
I couldn't believe it, to be honest. Of course Sociedad had a great team, but to be just two points shy of the top of the table after two months?! It seemed ethereal. Everything was going so perfectly, how could it be true?! Everything I'd ever dreamed of, I had...
And yet, something was missing.
Sure, I'd met a lovely Spanish woman or two in San Sebastian. The nightlife was incredible, and the people were nice, and the ladies loved me. Fame has it's benefits, I suppose. But for all that, I couldn't help but miss her a little bit, even after two months.
She'd called on my birthday, the 19th, but I'd been out for a drink with some of the other coaches in some bar in Kyiv, celebrating the day's Europa League win over Dynamo. When I finally did see the message, just listening to it...I couldn't call back.
She'd said she still loved me.
What the fuck was I supposed to say to that?!
A part of me still missed her, but that kind of drama was something I most certainly did not need in my life. There were plenty of women here who I could find that would be supportive of my football career as a manager, but...
I suppose I still did love her.
The doorbell rang. I checked my watch; 23:14. Who the hell goes to someone's door at this hour? I rubbed the tiredness from my eyes and set down my glass of merlot before stumbling over to the door. The bell rang again, twice more.
Irritated, I threw open the door. "Who the fu--."
No, it couldn't be. I froze, standing there in the doorway, watching motionless as the tears formed in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out before she began to sob.
Still I could not move.
"Nicole..."
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