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The call comes on a Friday. A car crash. A drunken truck driver. Alexia doesn’t know what to say. Jenni’s brother asks if he should call her mother. Alexia declines. She’ll do it herself, not knowing what to tell her Mama.
Alexia feels nothing, her brain completely blank. She doesn’t know how long she just sits in her apartment, staring at an empt wall.
She calls Alba instead. Doesn’t know what so say at first, but Alba seems to sense that somethings is wrong. Once it is out, her sister starts crying. Alexia lets her. Still feeling nothing, the words hanging heavily in the air, not reaching her.
She hesitates to call her Mama. Doesn’t want death to break her heart, not again. But doesn’t want her to find out any other way either.
Saying it out loud the second time feels harder then the first. Her Mama doesn’t cry, just says that she’ll be at her place as soon as possible.
She tries to remember what she had felt when her father died. There’s nothing, memories seeming like a blur. It feels like a lifetime ago.
Alexia doesn’t notice her Mama arriving at her apartment. Just feels her arms around her, leaning into the embrace. She’s glad she gave her a spare key, glad she doesn’t have to move. They sit there in silence, letting the time pass.
Some time later, her mother asks when the last time she had something to drink and to eat was. Alexia doesn’t remember, just stares blankly in her mother’s face.
Her Mama gets up at some point, starts to move around in the kitchen. At one point, she is on the phone with someone. Alexia thinks it is Alba.
Then she returns to the living room. Helps Alexia get up from the floor and onto the couch. Hands her a glass of water and a plate with soup. Even though she doesn’t feel hunger, Alexia eats. Her mother strokes her back soothingly with her hand. Alexia feels like a little girl.
Once it is late, her mother helps her get ready for bed. She tucks her in and presses a kiss to her temple.
Alexia hears the door close behind her Mama. Then it’s dark in her room.
This is not happening.
-
It is.
Alexia sees the dead body at the funeral. She’s laying there in the coffin. If Alexia tries hard enough, she can talk herself into believing that Jenni is asleep. Like there was never a truck, like the last days were just an odd dream.
They were not. She realises that as she hears the first words of the eulogy from Jenni’s mother. Her voice is raw and she’s crying. Alexia starts to cry with her, silent tears streaming down her face, the words moving something deep inside of her. Her Mama and Alba, who sit on each side of her like a protective shield, hold her hands through it.
Alexia holds no speech. Doesn’t feel like speaking in front of that many people, especially not about her feelings, about her memories of Jenni.
Instead, Jenni’s close family members do. They talk about how kind and funny she was, how forward she was looking to the future, how she always saw the good in people and in things. Her girlfriend talks about the way Jenni loved: Wholeheartedly. Lola, Misa and Laia are the last ones. They share fond memories they made with Jenni, some from football camps, some from holidays. Some Alexia is part of.
Alexia doesn’t cry when the coffin is lowered into the ground. Instead, an agonising nausea floods her body at the thought of the worms and bugs crawling below the ground. She wants to be cremated once the day comes for her she decides. She has to look away when they start to close the grave pit.
When she later hugs Jenni’s mother goodbye, a feeling of heaviness settles into her bones.
No parent should have to burry their own child.
-
It doesn’t go away. Neither the nausea nor the heaviness.
Her Mama stays with her for another day after the funeral. Makes sure she drinks and eats and gets out of bed from time to time. Cooks her soup, the only food that Alexia can keep down.
When her mother has to drive back home, has to return to work, it feels like an other punch into the gut. Alexia doesn’t cry, doesn’t want her Mama to feel guilty. Hugs her tight and tells her to text when she is home.
When she sleeps, Alexia has dreams. Doesn’t remember what about, but she is sure Jenni is part of them. Just like the last nights, she abruptly wakes up, drenched in sweat, gasping for air. From one night mare into the other.
She makes her way to the bathroom, washing her face, trying to calm her racing heart. Looks at herself in the mirror, doesn’t recognise herself these days.
It’s only four in the morning, but Alexia doesn’t return to bed. Too afraid of another dream of Jenni. Instead she makes herself a tea and sits down on her couch. Her mother asked her to take care of herself. This has to do.
There’s a soft knocking on the door she realises. Doesn’t know how much time has passed, maybe she fell asleep again. Alexia doesn’t get up, hopes the knocking goes away. It doesn’t.
When she opens the door, it’s Patri, glassy eyes and pale skin.
Alexia doesn’t say anything, just pulls her into a hug and doesn’t let go for a long time. Patri starts crying at one point, Alexia tries not to.
The realisation crashes into her once again right there in the hallway. How she isn’t the only one who lost someone. How there’s someone out there who lost their friend, their sister, their daughter. Trying to suppress that thought, she lets go of Patri and guides her inside.
Patri brought Yoghurt and fruits, says she can’t eat much more at the moment. Alexia nods, she gets it. They eat in silence, letting the void that lingers amongst them exist for a bit.
After, they sit outside, on Alexia’s balcony. She can’t remember when she was outside the last time. The sun is bright and warm and Alexia suddenly thinks that she should’ve stayed inside her bedroom, curtains closed.
Patri is good in talking about her feelings. Always has been. Talks about how she feels empty, how everything she does feels odd. That she wants to return to training. Wants to do something instead of sitting around the whole day. Get her head onto something else.
When she starts to talk about Jenni, Patri starts to cry again. How she misses her, how she wishes Jenni could’ve stayed in Barcelona or at least in Spain or Europe, would’ve given them more time together. How much Patri had learned from her, not only on the pitch.
Alexia sits with her, lets her talk and cry, hands her tissues.
Patri tells her about Claudia and Vicky, how distraught they seem. Says she spoke to Irene and Marta and some of the others. Alexia feels the guilt creep up on her. She hasn’t really spoken to anyone, at the funeral a few words with some of her team mates who were there, but even then she stayed mostly quiet. Avoids her phone like the plague as well.
When Patri asks her how she’s doing, Alexia doesn’t know what to answer. Doesn’t even know it herself. Says she doesn’t know what to do with herself, that she feels like time is standing still for her, while everything around her keeps moving. That she’s afraid of what is to come. Patri just nods, lets Alexia find her words.
When Patri leaves two hours later, Alexia lets herself cry for a bit. Hopes that the heaviness, the nagging feeling inside of her maybe finds it’s exist. It doesn’t.
Alexia decides to check onto some of her friends. Decides to start with Irene. Feels like the safest option, she lets Alexia be quiet, doesn’t push, knows what to say. Alexia doesn’t call her tho, wouldn’t know what to say. And she’s too tired to leave her house, the weight of everything pulling her down with every minute she’s awake.
So she goes the next day. Alexia walks, even though it takes her over forty minutes to Irene’s apartment. Pulls her hood up, doesn’t want to be recognised by anyone, never, but especially not now.
When Alexia rings the door bell she realises that Irene might not even be home. But as she wants to turn around and leave, the door opens slowly. Irene lets her in, holding Lucia’s and her little girl in one arm while she hugs her carefully with the other.
Irene sends her to the living room while she goes to get Alexia a glass of water. Mateo sits there in one corner unbothered, playing, acknowledging Alexia with a smile before returning to his previous activity. Alexia sits down on the sofa and watches him. Wonders if children his age understand death, the finality of it.
Irene returns, puts the glass down and sits next to Alexia, leaving some space between them. She says nothing at first, just holds her sleeping daughter and adjusts her from time to time. Irene is no stranger to grief. And knows when to let Alexia think.
Then she starts to talk about training, about the next match. Says that preparation is going well, that it kind of feels odd to go on with her daily routines.
Alexia listens, says she doesn’t know how to return to anything she did before Jenni’s death. That she struggles with eating and sleep. Tries to keep her voice down so Mateo doesn’t hear.
In her mother’s arms, Lea starts to stir. Irene says she should hold her. Alexia wants to decline, but it’s already too late, Irene handing her little girl to Alexia. She tries not to move, not to breathe too loud, just looks at the little child in her arms.
Lea opens her eyes, staring at Alexia. Alexia expects her to cry, but she doesn’t. Instead, she just blinks at her.
She feels tears prickle in her eyes. Now she’s the one who’s crying. Alexia crumbles at the thought of the contradictoriness of life. Here in her arms lays a not even one month old who has her whole life ahead of her while at the same time somewhere in Madrid the person she once called hers lays under the ground, never getting another chance at life.
Lea starts to wriggle in her arms, Alexia rocks her slightly, trying to soothe her. Silent tears still falling. Jenni would have loved the little girl. Now she will never get to meet her. Alexia hands her back to Irene.
At one point, Lucia comes in. She greets Alexia quietly, and tells Irene that she’ll take the kids to the playground. Irene gets up to help her get both children dressed and Lea settled in her stroller.
Once she returns, Alexia tells her. That Jenni would have adored their daughter. That she feels sorry for Jenni not getting to meet her in person.
Irene smiles tiredly, now having tears in her eyes as well. Tells her how she had sent Jenni pictures of Lea and how Jenni couldn’t wait to see her, how she had already planned her next trip back to Spain. Alexia puts her arms around her friend, trying to comfort her, even though she feels like she has nothing comforting to offer. This is their reality now and they’ll have to learn how to live with it.
An hour later, when Alexia is guided to the door, Irene asks her to maybe try football again. That it helps her with her feelings, with her focus, with being there for her family as well. Says that she is missed. Alexia doesn’t have an answer to that.
She hugs Irene goodbye and makes her way home.
Halfway there, her mother calls her. Asks her how she’s doing, asks her about her nausea, says that she misses her. Alexia tells her that she misses her too. That she saw Irene today and talked to Patri yesterday. Her mother tells her a story from her work in return.
Alexia also has a missed call from Leila and a text from Cata. She ignores the call for now, doesn’t feel like talking to another person right now. Cata asks if it’s alright for her, Vicky and Claudia to come over the next day. Alexia feels torn, but she doesn’t have an excuse, so she texts back a quick yes. Like that she’ll get the chance to check on her teammates in person without having to leave her home.
The next morning, she calls Leila back. She’s surprised when she picks up. Leila asks about her, but Alexia tries to stir the conversation away from herself, doesn’t want to deal with her emotions this early. Leila seems to be more willing to talk about what’s going on in her life, says she’s been struggling, that she regrets not answering Jenni’s latest text and that she wishes she could’ve gone to the funeral. Alexia feels overwhelmed with the feeling of having to solve this for Leila, but she doesn’t know how. Says she’s welcome at hers, that she can come to Barcelona whenever she feels up to. That they’re all there for her. Leila thanks her, but sounds unsure, says the city reminds her too much of Jenni, that she can’t face that kind of hurt right now.
And Alexia tries not to get angry about that. Doesn’t know where that outrage suddenly comes from, but wants to shout, not at Leila particular, that that is one of the countless hells she’s being put through every single day. Waking up in the city where Jenni and her spend so much time together. Where she feels like she can’t leave her place, because somehow every other corner holds memories of Jenni. Wants to shout, because she wishes she was the one living in an other city in an other country. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t get to mad, especially not about these kind of things. Not when she’s not the one lying under the ground.
When they say their goodbyes, Alexia tells her that she misses her, that she’s looking forward to seeing Leila again.
Around twelve o’clock, Cata, Vicky and Claudia knock on her door. They’re packed with bags full of food and Alexia tries to not already regret letting them in as Vicky explains to her that they wanted to cook something together.
It turns out to be surprisingly easy. Cata puts on some quiet music that Alexia tires to to listen to, afraid it will mess with her emotions, and tells her to cut the vegetables they bought. Meanwhile the others cook chicken and rice. It’s pleasant to have company while also not feeling the obligation to participate in any form of conversation. Alexia tries to focus on her task and ignores the sting she feels when one of the others laughs lightly about something. Wonders when it is her turn to put down some of the weight she’s been carrying around for the last days and weeks.
Doesn’t understand how grief and happiness can exist so close to each other.
Lunch is quiet. Alexia prays that the food will stay down. While cleaning up, Claudia asks her when Alexia will return to training. She’s sure that there’s no pressure intended behind that question, but Alexia feels it never the less. So she answers with soon.
When the three of them leave, Alexia feels guilty. Feels like she failed as a host, as a teammate and as a friend. She should have asked them how they’re doing, should have offered them help in case they needed it, instead she selfishly used their presence solely for her own comfort.
-
Two days later, Alexia goes to training for the first time after Jenni’s death. She spoke to her mother and the trainer team about it, all encouraging her to return back to work. And so she does.
Marta and Caro pick her up, Alexia doesn’t want to drive on her own. She feels like a little girl, sitting in the back seat, playing with her hair anxiously. Can’t remember the last time she felt nervous before training.
It feels wrong. Like the thing football once gave her suddenly isn’t there anymore. To do the thing that constructed the foundation of the connection Alexia had with Jenni. To move on without her.
Alexia feels fragile and distracted. It doesn’t help that the atmosphere somehow shifted in the team, that she feels like she’s treated like she might break at any point. Tries to ignore the pitying looks of her teammates. Teams up with Patri, who is still quiet and looks nearly as exhausted as Alexia feels.
After training, Marta and Caro invite her to dinner. Alexia doesn’t know how to say no.
While Caro is in the kitchen, Marta and her sit on their terrace. Marta shows her old photos of them, of her and Jenni and Alexia, some football related, some not, that she recently found. She says it’s what helps her with her father as well. To talk about shared memories, to talk about the people you lost. Alexia doesn’t think it gives the same sort of comfort to her. Feels more like rubbing salt into the wound.
Rubbing salt into the wound is what she does that same evening. Alexia doesn’t know why, what led her to dial Jenni’s number. It goes to voicemail, of course it does. She crumbles at the sound of Jenni’s voice. Starts to cry in an instant, hasn’t in quite some time.
Cries about Jenni’s passing, about her feeling alone although her teammates, her friends, her family are right there, offering their support in every way they can, even though they’re going through the same loss. Feels incredible selfish because of that. Cries because she wants to discuss her feelings with the one person who isn’t here anymore. Cries because maybe in an other universe they would still be together, living in Barcelona.
Alexia plays her first game a week after returning to training. She feels anxious, threw up her last meal. She is subbed in for the last twenty minutes. Tries to focus on her teammates, on the game. They win. Somehow it still feels like a loss to Alexia. She falls asleep on the team bus within ten minutes.
When she returns home in the early evening, there’s a small package in front of her door. It’s from Jenni’s mother. Alexia’s heart starts to race. It takes her over an hour to open it.
It’s a small box and a note Jenni’s mother wrote. Says they cleared the apartment in Monterrey, that she found a few things that Alexia might want to have. That she misses her, that Alexia is always welcome in their home.
Alexia starts crying. It takes her another ten minutes to open the box. It’s a few photos, some of them from over ten years ago, even from before their relationship. There are bracelets they used to make during long flights. And notes. Old notes they left in each others flats while being in a long distance relationship, some containing dumb jokes, some containing words of love and affirmation.
Alexia feel hysteria creeping up on her, realising that Jenni kept all those things through several moves, kept them even though they barely spoke with each other at times. She gasps for air, a steady stream of tears rolling down her face. Feels on the brink of a panic attack. Dials Albas number, prays for her to pick up. Doesn’t say much, her sister promising to be there as soon as possible.
Alba lets herself in Alexia’s apartment about twenty minutes later. Alexia feels ashamed, should’ve been able to handle her emotional breakdown on her own. Has calmed down to some extend, only the tears are still there.
Alba doesn’t say anything, just sees the things Jenni’s mother send scattered across the table and takes Alexia into her arms. Alexia suddenly feels very small. It was always the other way around. Her comforting Alba, trying to fix her problems. Now it’s Alba who tries to help Alexia gather the pieces of her broken heart, both of them pretending it’s something that can be fixed on one evening.
Her sister makes Alexia drink a whole glass of water before she helps her get ready for bed. They lay together in Alexia’s bed, Alba trying to hold her as close as possible. It takes Alexia more than three hours to fall asleep.
-
The next national camp comes and Alexia is on the verge of cancelling, of just not going. Her mother is the one who convinces her to at least try.
That’s what Alexia does. Trying. Doesn’t talk much to others, spends most of their time off in her room. Goes for a walk with Patri once. Tries to avoid anyone else who was close to Jenni.
One evening, Mariona stands in front of her room. Alexia hasn’t talked much to her and feels too guilty for that to just send her away.
Mariona is gentle with her. Not in a way that comes from pity, but in a way that comes from understanding. Offers her opportunities to speak, but doesn’t push. Tells her about London, about her family and her plans for the summer. Alexia realises that she doesn’t have any plans, doesn’t even know what she’s going to do tomorrow or next week.
At one point the conversation shifts to Jenni. And somehow Alexia doesn’t immediately feel like drowning by it.
-
When Alexia wakes up on Jenni’s birthday, the progress she thought she had made is ruined in an instant. The heavy feeling clinging to her bones once again, her brain racing.
She tries not to think of the birthdays they got to spend together. Tries not to think of all the birthdays Jenni won’t get to celebrate. Tries to fall back asleep, but it doesn’t work. So she just lays there, hoping her thoughts won’t drown her.
Some time around noon, Alexia hears a knock on her door. She doesn’t move, feels way too exhausted to get up. After another knock, she hears someone open the door with a key. Then Alba’s voice travels through her apartment into her bedroom.
Alba finds her in an instant, greets her with a kiss on the forehead, asks her if she’s been up today at all. Alexia doesn’t answer, just tries not to cry.
Alba somehow convinces Alexia to get up. She helps her get dressed, brushes her hair and hands her sister the toothbrush.
After, Alba leads her onto the balcony, says Alexia needs some sunshine, that she’ll be right back.
Alexia feels pathetic.
She sits there, tries to ignore the sound of children playing somewhere near, tries not to think about how Jenni will forever be thirty-five. About all the things she wont’t be there for. About how she will never have kids of her own.
Alexia wants to scream, but instead only a fresh flood of tears stream down her cheeks.
Alba returns with a bowl of Yogurt and fruit and two slices of cake. Says she baked cake, but first wants Alexia to eat a proper meal. Alexia wants to laugh, wants to tell Alba that no, Yogurt is not a meal, but doesn’t get anything out. Instead she takes the bowl from Alba, tries to smile thankfully, but fails. Alba seems to understand.
It takes Alexia over half an hour to get anything down.
She also tries the cake, just to show Alba her gratitude, that she appreciates her sister for thinking of Jenni today. She gets exactly one bite down before a wave of nausea rolls over her. Alba says she understands.
Alba leaves two hours later, a guilty look on her face. Explains that she has work do to, that Alexia can call her anytime.
Alexia tries not to break by the mere thought of spending the rest of the day alone. Promises Alba that she’ll be okay anyway.
Alexia hates how she can’t get anything done on her own. That she has to rely on other people while the grief seems to swallow her whole.
With all that she has in her, she tries to do something against that. So she takes her phone and starts to answer texts. Texts from today, yesterday and last week.
She gets stuck on one particular message. It’s from Lola from two days ago. Says she just wanted to check on Alexia, that she doesn’t need to feel pressured to answer, that she’s always welcome in Madrid in case she needs to get away for a few days.
Alexia answers a quick thank you and deicides to keep Lola’s words in mind.
She goes to bed later, feeling somehow a little bit lighter. She can’t get Jenni back, can’t undo their shared past. But what she can do is keep in touch with the people she still has in her life. And so she tries.
-
They win the Champion’s League.
Alexia is torn between relief and a resurfacing hurt that she knows all to well by now. Tries to mask her grief, tries to be happy for her teammates.
Her facade crumbles around two in the morning. The whole team is still out partying, Alexia doesn’t even know how she made it this long. The music is suddenly too loud, it’s too crowded. She seeks a moment of silence in the bathroom. There it all comes crashing down.
Suddenly she’s all tears and gasps for air again. Trying not to break under the weight of missing her person. Jenni would’ve been so happy for all of them, especially for the younger ones. Now she’ll never know that they did it again, that even though the team struggled at times, they pulled through.
Alexia is on autopilot when she dials Jenni’s number. It is still activated. Alexia lets it ring, sobs when she hears Jenni’s voice as the voicemail answers. She cries more than she actually says. Tells Jenni that they won, that they did it again, that she wishes she was here to see it, that she is still loved unconditionally. By so many people. And by Alexia. Hopes that somehow her words get through.
She hangs up and sinks to the bathroom floor.
Mapi finds her there twenty minutes later.
-
One week after their win, Alexia is on a train to Madrid.
She feels kind of uneasy, but tries to calm herself with the thought that Lola doesn’t expect anything from her.
At the car park, she spots Lola in an instant. They share a long hug before they both get into Lola’s car.
The streets in Madrid are busy, she does’t like the hustle. Alexia tells Lola so. Lola just chuckles, says she got used to it by time.
It takes them about forty minutes to get to Lola’s apartment. Cristina, Lola’s wife, isn’t there, Lola tells her something about a work trip that she couldn’t cancel. Says that Cristina would’ve loved to see her.
They cook together and watch a movie after. It feels good to reconnect with an old friend, Alexia thinks. They talk about everything and nothing.
When the movie ends, Alexia feels the atmosphere shift. Lola asks her how she’s doing, how she’s really doing. Alexia tries to stay composed. Says she has good and bad days. That she’s still looking for ways to cope with the bad ones.
It’s half a lie. The truth is that Alexia can’t remember the last time she had a decent day, let alone good day. Feels more like she has bad days and even worse days. The other part of her statement is true: She still doesn’t know how to cope with her grief, how to handle her emotions.
Lola nods, lists things that help her, tries to work out things that might help Alexia. Then she asks wether Alexia thought about going to the cemetery, that it was only a twenty minute walk from her apartment.
No, Alexia hasn’t thought about that. And it scares her more than it probably should.
Lola encourages her to think about it.
The next morning, Alexia is alone. Lola is away till noon, has a few things to do. Told Alexia to make herself at home.
Alexia has breakfast at the table Lola had set for her before she left. She cleans up and gets herself dressed, decides to go for a walk, maybe she’ll get herself to actually go to the cemetery, somehow feels guilty for not being there since the funeral.
She does end up going to the cemetery. It takes Alexia more time than she is willing to admit to find Jenni’s grave, the funeral only a blurry memory. She tries to keep her breathing controlled, doesn’t want to break down in public, even though she’s almost the only one here that early.
There are withered flowers laying on the grave and Alexia feels guilty for not brining any. Curses herself, because she doesn’t even know what to do here. Can’t remember the last time she’s been to her father’s grave on her own, what she had done then. Feels tears prickle in her eyes.
So Alexia just stands there, stares at the dead flowers and thinks about Jenni and her Papa. Can’t believe she has to live the rest of her life without both of them. She thinks about how unfair it is that out of all people, she’s the one who had to lose two of the people she loved most. Feels incredibly selfish for that.
She starts to play with the bracelet around her wrist, it’s one of those Jenni’s mother had sent her. Tries to wear it as regularly as possible, but the reminder of Jenni’s absence is often too painful to bear. She thinks about Jenni’s family, maybe she should’ve reached out, maybe she should visit her parents. But Alexia doesn’t know where to find the courage for that. Still doesn’t know how to be the comforting one, all that seems to come from here is grief and sadness, consolation feeling like it is unreachable for her, something she can’t give to people.
The sound of footsteps pulls Alexia out of her thoughts, her hearts stars racing, doesn’t want to be seen or to talk to anyone. They come closer and Alexia doesn’t have any other option than to turn around.
Alexia is taken aback when she sees Misa approach. Misa looks equally surprised, greets her with a hugs nevertheless.
Misa looks pale, unusually uncertain. Alexia’s heart grows heavy.
Misa asks her since when she’s been here, where Alexia is staying. Says it’s nice to see her, that she didn’t expect anyone to be here that early. Neither did Alexia. Asks Misa if she comes here often. Misa nods.
They stand there in silence for a moment. Misa parts the flower bouquet she brought and hands one half to Alexia. She tries to put on a thankful smile and lays the flowers down together with Misa, right next to the older ones. Maybe it’s a symbol for their love for Jenni that unlike the flowers never wilts, Alexia thinks.
She starts to silently cry. Misa pulls her into her arms carefully and cries with her. Alexia breaks by the absurdity of all of it.
Misa invites her for a coffee. Alexia first hesitates, doesn’t want to be seen by fans. But when she looks at Misa again, tired eyes and slumped posture, she says yes. They end up in the backyard of a small coffee shop, only a few other people there.
It feels surprisingly comfortable talking to Misa. Like somehow the thought of speaking to someone who was close to Jenni doesn’t immediately rip a whole into Alexia’s heart.
They talk about football, about Laia, whom Misa regularly talks to. Misa tells her about her fear of missing out after Jenni’s death, that she’s afraid of not getting to spend enough time with her family. That she doesn’t want to regret not going home more often later on. And she tells Alexia about her grandma, how Jenni was there for her after her passing even though a whole ocean separated them. How she tries to apply the strategies Jenni told her to manage her grandmother’s passing to cope with Jenni’s death now. How that seems to mess with her head.
Alexia doesn’t know what to say to that. Doesn’t know what words could ease that kind of pain. So she takes Misa’s hand into her own and draws soothing circles on the back of her hand. That’s the least she can do.
It’s the first time the hurt of someone else doesn’t push her over the edge.
-
In July, Alba convinces Alexia to go to Mallorca. A summer holiday with just them two.
Alexia swallows down the urge to spend her summer in Barcelona, feels like she owes her sister.
And so they spend their time either in the ridiculously huge villa Alba rented or at the beach. Alexia feels calm for the first time since March, feels like the waves might wash away some of the heaviness that still seems to cling to her body.
One evening, she sits alone on the balcony and watches the sun set, Alba still in the shower. Alexia lets her mind wander and for the first time in a long time she feels grateful. Grateful for her sister, her Mama, her friends and teammates. Grateful for Jenni and her Papa, for the love she still feels for them. For her grief that reminds her every day of how lucky she is to have had something that still makes saying goodbye so incredibly hard.
Alexia feels her emotions overflow, starts to cry.
She’s getting better at this: Letting herself feel. And so instead of trying to fight them, she just sits there and lets the waves of her grief pass through her.
A few days later, Mariona and her girlfriend, who also spend their summer on the island, invite them for dinner at their place.
It’s a beautiful house with a big garden filled with lemon trees, the sea only a few minutes down a footpath. Alexia feels a slight sting in her chest. Years and years ago she would’ve envisioned her and Jenni buying a house like that somewhere outside of Barcelona. But that future hasn’t been hers to have for a long time, so she closes her eyes for a moment and tries to direct her thoughts back to the presence.
It doesn’t take long for Alexia to relax. They sit outside on the terrace, drinking wine and eating the Pasta Mariona and Lia made, talking about football, the upcoming season and Alba’s work. It’s easier existing here, Alexia thinks.
Long after their plates are empty and put away, the conversation drifts to Jenni. It’s not intended, Lia telling a funny story about Laia, when Mariona mentions her name, saying how the story reminds her of a certain moment from the World Cup, when their little group of six went out for a coffee.
Alexia waits for pitying looks from either Lia or Mariona, waits for the moment Mariona realises her mistake and abruptly changes the topic, but nothing of it comes. Instead Mariona just continues to tell her story, reminiscing about times that feel like a lifetime ago to Alexia.
It feels good to be surrounded by people who don’t avoid the topic, who speak as freely and lovingly about Jenni as Mariona does. And it feels good to know that Jenni still exists in others’ memories, that other peoples’ memories of her aren’t buried by the passing of time.
-
It continues like that: Jenni staying present not only through Alexia’s memories of her, but through other people.
It’s the small moments that make Alexia’s heart ache the most: Like Vicky telling a joke after training that she definitely learned from Jenni or Irene telling Alexia to loosen up before an important game, saying that she still wonders how Jenni seemed to always be able to calm Alexia’s nerves.
Jana sends a text message on a random Tuesday. Attached is an old picture with the three of them, all looking so incredibly young. In the message Jana tells her that she found the picture while tidying up her apartment, that it somehow found it’s way to London. She also confesses that she was so excited about the picture back then that she had it framed on her desk for over two years. Alexia smiles at that.
Just a few days after that, Alba calls her, asking if she’s free the next afternoon. Alexia doesn’t question it, but when her sister turns up the next day, the recipe of Jenni’s favourite cake in hand and a bag full of baking supplies, Alexia is moved to tears by her sister’s thoughtfulness.
Mapi turns up one day unannounced with a sketchbook and sits Alexia down to show her some drawings she did with Jenni.
Alexia is still in contact with Misa. They call each other regularly. One evening, Misa sends her a picture of a sun set above the see. Says she’s visiting her parents at home for a few days, says the sea makes her think of Jenni. Alexia gets it.
When Alexia visits Irene one day, Lucia lets her in. Alexia finds Irene in the living room with Mateo and Lea, flipping through a photo album, showing pictures to her kids. Alexia sits next to them and when she realises that it’s an album full of pictures of Jenni, Alexia feels her heart grow with fondness.
Irene explains that she did the same thing after her father’s passing: creating a photo album. That she wants her children to know their tía, even tough she is not here anymore to watch them grow up. And even though Mateo seems to be only half interested in the pictures his mother shows him and Lea is far too young to understand who the person on the pictures is, Alexia feels tears in her eyes. This means everything to her.
She talks about it with Patri one day on the way to training: How cruel and comforting it is at the same time that Jenni is so vividly remembered by so many people.
-
The transition into the new year is weird. Alexia feels the winter’s coldness seep into her body, wishes she could just sleep for the next few weeks.
She doesn’t. Instead she spends the days on her mother’s couch, drinks tea and tries to somehow look forward to the new year.
But it’s hard when the one person she once thought would always be there, no matter where they both lived, no matter if they were friends or partners, is not on this earth to see the next year. There won’t ever be another month, another year that Jenni is part of. Time passing without Jenni feels especially cruel to Alexia these days.
It’s strange how time moves on without people. How time does’t wait for the grieving. How it seems to expect you to get used to your new reality and move on.
Alexia tries to navigate her grief by reaching out to people. Writes a card to Jenni’s parents, promises to come visit some time in the future. Sends texts to Leila, to Misa, Mariona and Lola. Calls Irene, who spends the holidays with her family at her mother’s place.
She bakes cookies with Alba, goes on walks with her mother and visits her father’s grave. Tries to keep moving, tries to keep doing something, even if it’s not much.
Tries to not get eaten alive by the regret of not reaching out to Jenni when she still had the chance to.
It takes a few weeks into the new year, but Alexia gets back on her feet. Is brave enough to call it progress.
-
The anniversary of Jenni’s death arrives slowly. Alexia stops eating days before, feels the nausea creep up on her once again. Feels like running, but wouldn’t know where to.
When she wakes up on the day she’s been dreading for weeks, Alexia expects a big bang, anything to change out of the sudden. Nothing comes.
Instead Alexia gets ready and drives herself to training.
It’s like all the progress she made in the last year has shattered into a thousand pieces. Alexia can’t focus on anything, can’t get herself to care about it, feels like she’s made of glass. Only hears Jenni’s brother’s voice in her head, replays the memory of the phone call over and over. Feels like it’s only been yesterday and years ago at the same time.
Notices that Patri is missing only after showering. Asks about it, Claudia tells her that she hasn’t been feeling well the past days, that she stayed at home. Alexia says she’ll check on her, see how she is doing.
It takes about five minutes for Patri to open the door. Even though she seems to be surprised to see Alexia, she lets her in. Apologises for the mess in her apartment, offers her something to drink.
The moment they sit down, Patri starts to cry. Apologises over and over again, says she just can’t help it these days.
Instead of saying anything, Alexia pulls her into her arms and cries with her.
Once Patri has calmed down, she starts to talk about her struggles, how everything seems to remind her of Jenni, that her death made her afraid of the future, afraid of losing more people close to her.
And Alexia gets it. Tries to tell her so. But also knows that no other person’s consolation can take the own pain away.
It takes Patri another four days to return back to training.
-
When Irene, Marta and Patri tell her about their plans for Jenni’s birthday, Alexia is moved to tears.
Only a few weeks later, on what would have been Jenni’s thirty-seventh birthday, Marta’s and Caro’s apartment is filled with friends and teammates, who Jenni was close with. Half of the Barcelona squad is there. Laia, Mariona, Misa and Lola as well. Jana and Leila. Even Sandra, Andrea and Christen made their way to Spain. And the list goes on.
It is sad and beautiful all at once. Everyone brings food, trades old stories, fills the rooms with nostalgia and laughter.
Alexia tries to keep her emotions at bay, tries to not get overwhelmed by the love she feels for all these people, but especially for Jenni. Hopes Jenni somehow knows that they’re all still thinking of her, still celebrating her.
-
They win the World Cup a second time.
And Alexia is happy about it, truly happy. But she still wishes that Jenni could have been there to witness their achievement. Wishes Jenni could see the impact she had on women’s football. Knows that some of her teammates feel the same way.
In the middle of the night, Alexia alone in her hotel room, she calls Jenni’s number. Hasn’t done this in a long time.
The number is not available anymore.
Alexia feels herself tear up. Knew that this would happen at some point, wasn’t prepared for it never the less.
It somehow feels like she loses Jenni all over again. Loses her in so many little ways.
-
It’s a sunny evening in August and nearly one and half a years ago that Alexia lost Jenni, that the world lost Jenni.
To Alexia it feels like it was only yesterday. To other people it doesn’t, she thinks. It hurts how her teammates and friends seem to be able to carry on that effortlessly. They’re moving houses, reaching different milestones in their professional and personal lives. Alexia doesn’t seem able to do that. Still feels stuck in time. Feels like the sudden loss, the lack of a goodbye still occupies her brain that constantly that she can’t really focus on anything that is not related to Jenni.
She’s sitting on a bench at the coast, watching the sun set over Barcelona, listening to a song Patri send her a few weeks ago. She’s not sure if she really understands the meaning behind the lyrics, what exactly the singer is trying to tell her, but somehow she still finds comfort in it.
Because maybe it’s true, maybe she does love Jenni like she never did before.
For all the things Jenni stood for, for all the things Jenni did for the people around her, for all the things Jenni did for Alexia.
And maybe it is in that moment that Alexia makes peace with the hurt she will forever carry with her, the hurt of losing the one person who shaped her life in such a unique way. Makes peace with caring her grief not as a burden, but as a gift. As a reminder of how lucky she was to have loved and been loved by Jenni. How lucky she is to miss someone so deeply.
How even death cannot undo the love she feels.
And she hopes that Jenni will find peace in death. In whatever comes after.
That death simply means going ahead, not getting lost, not getting erased.
She presses replay, hoping the songbird will forever remind her of that.
Forever remind her of Jenni.