Summary: After he broke up with her because he was angry, the reality of what he did almost killed him with regret.
The stadium lights at Metropolitano Stadium in Madrid were still bright even though most of the crowd had already left.
It had been a brutal night for FC Barcelona. The match against Atlético Mardid had ended in a painful comeback loss, and the atmosphere in the locker room felt heavy like the air itself carried frustration.
At the center of it sat Fermín, his breathing was sharp and uneven as the team doctor pressed gauze gently against the cut on the top of his upper lip. The injury wasn’t huge, but it was deep enough to sting every time he moved his mouth.
“Stay still”, the doctor said.
Fermín clenched his jaw. “I’m fine.”
He wasn’t. Not physically. And definitely not mentally.
The game kept replaying in his head. The missed chances. The tackle that caused the injury. The moment Atlético scored again. The noise of the crowd when the final whistle blew.
He hated losing. Everyone knew that about Fermín. When he stepped on the pitch, he played like someone who would run through a wall if it meant helping the team.
But tonight everything had gone wrong and the frustration was boiling inside him.
The locker room slowly emptied as players headed for showers or media interviews. Some teammates patted his shoulder quietly as they walked past.
“Unlucky tonight”, Frenkie said.
“It happens”, Lewa ruffled his hair comfortably.
Then someone appeared at the doorway when everyone left. She stepped inside carefully. She had been waiting outside because she knew how emotional he could get after matches, but when she heard about the injury she couldn’t stay away any longer.
She moved closer slowly. “Fermín?”
His head lifted. For a moment, his expression softened. Just a little. She always had that effect on him.
She walked toward him, worry written all over her face. “I heard about your injury,” she said gently. “Does it hurt?”
Fermín wiped the remaining blood with the back of his hand. “It’s nothing.”
But she could see it wasn’t nothing. He looked exhausted. Angry. His shoulders were tense like he was carrying the whole loss on his back.
So she did what she always did. She reached out carefully and touched his arm. “You played well,” she whispered. “It wasn’t your fault.”
That was the worst possible thing she could’ve said in that moment. Because to Fermín? It was his fault. Everything felt like his fault.
And the frustration that had been building all night suddenly snapped. “I don’t need that”, he said sharply.
“I don’t need you telling me I played well.”
Her hand slowly fell from his arm. “I was just trying to-“
“Trying to what?” he interrupted, his voice rising. “Make me feel better?”
His lip stung when he spoke, but he didn’t care. “I know how I played.”
She looked confused more than hurt at first. “I didn’t say you played badly…”
Fermín stood up suddenly, running his hands through his hair. “I missed chances. I lost the ball. And now I’m injured too.”
She stepped closer again, still calm. “It’s one match. You’ll bounce back-“
“Can you just stop?” he snapped.
Silence fell between them. The words hung in the air like something fragile that had just cracked.
She stared at him, completely taken aback. “I’m just worried about you.”
The frustration poured out before he could stop it. “I don’t need someone hovering over me all the time.”
Her eyebrows pulled together slightly. “I’m your girlfriend of course I’m worried.”
Fermín laughed bitterly. “Maybe that’s the problem.”
He didn’t even think about the words before they left his mouth. “Maybe we shouldn’t be together in the first place.”
The room went completely quiet. Even Fermín’s own brain seemed to stop for a second. But the damage was already done.
She stared at him like she couldn’t believe what she had just heard. “…You’re serious?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Because a small voice in his head was already screaming that he had just made a huge mistake.
But his pride was louder. “I just need space,” he muttered. “So just…go.”
The hurt that flashed across her face was instant. It was quick. Quiet. But it was there. And that hurt more than if she had shouted at him.
She nodded slowly. “Okay.”
No yelling. No argument. Just that one word.
Then she turned and walked out. The door closed softly behind her. And suddenly the locker room felt a lot emptier than before.
The regret didn’t come later. It came almost immediately.
Fermín sat back down and stared at the floor. “What the hell did I just do…”, he muttered.
But by then she was already gone.
Training the next day was a disaster. Fermín miscontrolled passes. Lost possession. Shot wide. Over and over again.
Finally Pedri grabbed his arm after the training ended. “Okay, what’s wrong with you today?.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Fermín.”
Fermín sighed and sat on the grass. “…I messed up.”
Fermín rubbed the back of his neck. “I broke up with my girlfriend yesterday.”
Pedri stared at him like he just said the craziest thing ever. “You did WHAT?”
Nearby, Gavi and Ferran overheard and immediately walked over.
“Repeat that.”, Ferran said
Fermín groaned. “I broke up with her.”
Gavi looked like he might actually strangle him. “Are you stupid?”
“You’re an idiot”. Pedri said bluntly.
Fermín buried his face in his hands in regret. “I know.”
Ferran rossed his arms. “Why did you do that?”
“I was angry after the match.”
“So you dumped your girlfriend?”. Gavi said incredulously.
“I didn’t mean it to end like that!”
Pedri shook his head. “You better go fix that shit you did right now.”
“I tried calling”. Fermín muttered. “She’s not answering me”
Gavi snorted. “Obviously she wouldn’t.”
Fermín stood up abruptly. “I need to find her.”
Ferran nodded to him. And for the first time since the match…He ran off the pitch.
He eventually found her hours later at the small café she liked near the training ground.
She was sitting by the window. Quiet. Scrolling on her phone.
Fermín stopped outside the door for a second. His heart was pounding harder than during any match. Then he walked in.
She looked up. Surprise crossed her face immediately. “…Fermín?”
He walked straight to her table. And for once, the confident midfielder who ran endlessly across the pitch looked nervous. “I messed up.”
“I was angry”, he continued. “And frustrated. And hurting. But none of that was your fault”. His voice softened. “You were just trying to comfort me.”
She looked down at her hands.
Fermín swallowed. “I shouldn’t have said those stupid things”. He ran a hand through his hair again with guilt. “I didn’t mean it I swear.”
Her voice was quiet. “You told me to leave.”
His chest tightened. “I know”
“And you said that we shouldn’t be together.”
“I didn’t mean that either.”
She finally looked at him again. And the regret in his eyes was painfully real.
Fermín leaned forward slightly. “I play with passion. Everyone knows that.”
A small smile touched her lips. “That’s an understatement.”
He chuckled weakly. “But sometimes…I let that passion turn into anger”. He hesitated before finishing. “And I took it out on the person who cares about me the most.”
Her eyes softened a little.
“I’m really sorry, baby I fucked up”. he said quietly.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then he added softly, “I don’t want to lose you because I couldn’t control my temper after one bad match, please.”
The sincerity in his voice was impossible to fake and after a few seconds she sighed. “You’re really stupid sometimes.”
Fermín smiled in relief. “Yeah…Pedri and Gavi said the same thing to me in the training today.”
That made her laugh a little. And the sound made his chest feel lighter instantly.
He reached across the table carefully. Not forcing. Just offering his hand. She looked at it for a moment. Then placed her hand in his.
And just like that…The tension melted away.
Fermín squeezed her fingers gently, a soft smile finally returning to his face. Butterflies fluttered quietly between them again.
And this time he made a promise to her that he wasn’t going to let his anger ruin something that mattered far more than any match, their relationship.
