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Crash

Summary - Jay is late to dinner, Alexia knows something has happened.

Word count - 19.7k

Based on that request from @grootiisfrooti

The sun had been setting over the training facility, casting everything in that particular golden light when the oppressive summer heat had finally broken but the evenings were still warm enough to linger outside without needing a jacket, when the air smelled like cooling earth and distant jasmine and the Mediterranean salt carried on the breeze from the coast.

The kind of evening that made you want to stay outside just a little longer, to soak in the perfect temperature and the fading light and the quiet that settled over the city as day transitioned to night.

Training had finished almost an hour ago. Most of the team had already scattered to their various evening plans, had showered quickly and changed into street clothes and headed out into the Barcelona evening with the kind of energy that came from having Friday off, from knowing the weekend stretched ahead with promise and possibility and no obligations except rest and recovery.

But Alexia and Jay had lingered.

Had taken their time in the changing room, moving slowly through the post training routine, neither of them in any particular hurry to separate, to leave, to end the day and go their different directions even though they'd be together again in less than two hours.

Had showered in adjacent stalls, talking through the tile wall about nothing and everything, their voices echoing slightly in the empty space. Alexia recounting something funny Patri had said during the session, her laughter bouncing off the walls as she described Patri's increasingly creative excuses for why she'd completely missed an open goal during the practice match. Jay responding with her own observations about Mapi's apparent inability to arrive to training on time, how she'd been exactly three minutes late every single day this week with a different excuse each time.

"I swear she does it on purpose," Jay had called through the wall, her voice competing with the sound of running water. "Today it was 'my alarm didn't go off.' Yesterday it was 'there was traffic.' The day before it was 'I couldn't find my left boot.' She's workshopping excuses. She's treating punctuality like it's optional and lateness like it's performance art."

"This is very rich coming from you," Alexia had pointed out, turning off her shower and reaching for her towel. "You, who are late to everything. You, who have never been on time to anything in your entire life. You, who think seven thirty means seven forty five."

"I'm fashionably late. That's different. That's intentional. Mapi is just chaotic."

"You are also chaotic. You are the definition of chaotic. You are chaos personified."

"I'm organised chaos though. Strategic chaos. Chaos with purpose."

"There is no such thing as organised chaos. That is. That is oxymoron. That is you making up phrases to justify being disaster."

"I'm your disaster though," Jay had said, and even through the wall Alexia had been able to hear the grin in her voice.

"Unfortunately, sí. You are my disaster. My beautiful chaotic disaster who is never on time."

They'd dressed slowly afterward, both of them taking unnecessary care with their post training routine, finding reasons to stay just a few more minutes. Jay pulling on dark jeans that fitted perfectly, a black hoodie that was soft and worn from countless washes, her blonde hair still damp and hanging loose around her shoulders in waves that Alexia wanted to run her fingers through. Alexia in casual trousers the colour of charcoal and a soft sweater that made her skin look golden, made her eyes look warmer, her own hair pulled back in a neat ponytail that somehow looked effortlessly elegant despite being purely functional.

Had packed their training bags with unnecessary attention to detail, both of them finding excuses to move slowly, to prolong this in between time before the evening properly started and they had to go their separate ways.

And now they were standing in the car park between their vehicles, the sky above them streaked with orange and pink and deepening purple, the training facility lights beginning to flicker on as the natural light faded, the air around them warm and still and perfect.

Alexia's car had been parked in its usual spot near the main entrance, the sleek black cupra she kept meticulously clean and maintained, the interior always smelling faintly of her perfume and the leather conditioner she used religiously because she couldn't stand when the seats started to look worn.

Jay's motorcycle had been next to it, the black Ducati Monster that Alexia had extremely complicated feelings about. Loved because Jay looked unfairly attractive straddling it in her leather jacket and boots, the image of her on that bike doing things to Alexia's brain chemistry that were probably not appropriate for a professional athlete to experience in a training ground car park. Hated because it terrified her every single time Jay swung her leg over it and roared off into Barcelona traffic with nothing but a helmet and some leather between her and the chaos of Spanish drivers who treated traffic laws as polite suggestions rather than actual rules.

They'd stopped in the space between the two vehicles, both reluctant to actually separate, to break the contact, to acknowledge that they needed to go their different ways even temporarily.

Alexia had her hands on Jay's waist, had slid them under the hem of Jay's hoodie without consciously deciding to do it, just needing to touch skin, needing to feel the warmth of Jay beneath the fabric. Her palms had been flat against Jay's sides, feeling the rise and fall of her breathing, the steady rhythm of her existing, the realness of her.

Jay's hands had been cupping Alexia's face, her thumbs brushing across Alexia's cheekbones in that absent soothing gesture she did constantly, like she needed to touch Alexia's face regularly to confirm she was real and there and hers, like it was a compulsion she couldn't control even if she'd wanted to.

They'd been standing close enough that Alexia had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact, close enough that their bodies were nearly touching, close enough that Alexia could smell Jay's shower gel and shampoo and the underlying scent that was just Jay, familiar and comforting and home.

The evening had been quiet around them. Most of the team gone. The training ground mostly empty except for a few groundskeepers in the distance. Just the two of them in this bubble of fading light and warmth and the reluctance to separate.

"You remember the plan, sí?" Alexia had said, looking up into Jay's blue eyes, trying to sound stern but probably failing completely based on the smile threatening to break through, based on the way her thumbs were moving in small circles on Jay's skin under her hoodie. "You are coming to my mami's house at seven thirty. Not seven forty five. Not eight o'clock. Seven thirty exactly. Precisamente. Mami is making dinner specifically for us and it is rude to be late. You know how she gets when people are late. She takes it personally. She thinks it means you do not care about the effort she has put in."

"I know, baby. I remember. Seven thirty. I'll be there. I promise. Scout's honour."

Alexia had made a face, had looked at Jay with fond exasperation.

"You were never a scout. You cannot use scout's honour. You do not have scout honour to give."

"I have personal honour though. Non scout specific honour. I'm giving you that instead. My word as someone who loves you very much and would never intentionally disappoint your mum because your mum is lovely and also slightly terrifying when she's upset."

"She is not terrifying."

"She's absolutely terrifying. In the nicest way. In the 'I raised Alexia Putellas' way. That's intimidating. That's scary. I respect it but I'm also slightly afraid of it."

"You are ridiculous."

"I'm self aware. Different thing."

Alexia had smiled despite herself, had felt warmth spread through her chest at Jay's ridiculousness, at the way she could make Alexia laugh even when she was trying to be serious.

"You promise though?" Alexia had pressed, needing the reassurance, needing to hear Jay say it again. "You are absolutely sure? Because you have. You have a history of losing track of time. Of getting distracted by things. Of saying you will be somewhere at a specific time and then arriving twenty minutes late because you stopped to help someone or you saw something interesting or you just. You just forgot to check what time it was because time is a concept you do not fully grasp."

"That's a very diplomatic way of saying I'm chronically late to everything," Jay had pointed out, grinning down at her, clearly amused by Alexia's attempt to be polite about what was objectively one of Jay's most annoying personality traits. "You could have just said 'Jay, you have no concept of time and you're always late and it drives me completely insane.'"

"I am being kind. I am being understanding about your time management challenges. I am being patient girlfriend who accepts your flaws."

"You're being incredibly patient about the fact that I operate on what you've previously called 'chaos time' where I genuinely believe I can accomplish things in half the time they actually take and am consistently wrong about this but never learn from my mistakes."

"Sí, exactly that. But tonight you cannot do that. Tonight you cannot be on chaos time. Tonight you need to be on real time. On actual time. On the time that exists in reality where seven thirty means seven thirty, not 'approximately seven thirty,' not 'sevenish,' not 'sometime between seven thirty and eight.' Seven thirty means you arrive at seven thirty."

Alexia had been trying to sound serious, trying to impress upon Jay the importance of this, but her hands had been moving on Jay's skin under her hoodie, fingers tracing patterns along her ribs, unable to keep still, unable to stop touching even while she was attempting to scold.

Jay had noticed, of course Jay had noticed, had smiled that knowing smile that suggested she understood exactly what Alexia was doing, that she recognised the contradiction between Alexia's stern words and her gentle affectionate touches that completely undermined any attempt at authority.

"I will be on actual real time tonight," Jay had promised, leaning down to press a kiss to Alexia's forehead, soft and lingering, her lips warm against Alexia's skin. "I will be at your mum's house at seven thirty. Maybe even seven twenty five if I'm efficient with my errand. I swear. This is important. I know it's important. I won't mess this up."

"What errand?" Alexia had asked immediately, her eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion because Jay had mentioned this mysterious errand several times now but had been notably vague about the details, had deflected every time Alexia tried to ask for specifics. "What do you need to do that is so important it cannot wait until tomorrow? What do you need to do that requires you to go separately instead of just coming with me now?"

"Just a thing I need to pick up. Nothing major. Super quick. In and out. Fifteen minutes maximum."

"Pick what up? From where? What thing? What is this mysterious errand you will not tell me about?"

"Just. A thing. For a thing. It's not important. Well, it is important but... Not in a way that affects dinner. Not in a way that will make me late. It's just something I need to grab and then I'll come straight to Eli's. Thirty minutes max. Probably twenty minutes if the traffic cooperates."

Alexia had studied Jay's face, had searched for clues in her expression, had seen the slight evasiveness there, the way Jay's eyes had flickered away for just a second before coming back to meet hers, the small tell that suggested Jay was hiding something but didn't want to lie about it, was trying to be honest while also maintaining the mystery.

"You are being suspicious. You are being. What is the word. Cagey. You are being cagey about this errand. Why are you being cagey? What are you hiding?"

"I'm not being cagey. I'm being. Okay, I'm being a little cagey. But for good reasons. Reasons that you'll understand later but that I can't explain right now because it would ruin the. It would ruin something. Just trust me. Okay? I need to do this thing and I need you to not ask me what it is and I need you to trust that I'll be at your mum's on time. Can you do that? Can you trust me?"

Alexia had looked at her for a long moment, had processed this, had felt curiosity war with trust in her chest, both of them battling for dominance.

Had decided on trust, though her face had made it clear she wasn't entirely happy about the mystery, wasn't thrilled about being left in the dark.

"Okay," she'd said finally, drawing the word out slightly, making it clear this was a concession rather than enthusiastic agreement. "Okay, I will not ask more questions. I will trust you. But you need to promise me. Actually promise me. Not casual promise. Real serious promise. That you will be there at seven thirty. Because this is important, guapa. This is family dinner. Mami has been cooking all day. She made your favourite dishes. She made that chicken thing you love with the peppers. She made the potatoes the way you like them. She is excited to see you. Alba is coming. This is our people. You need to be there. On time."

"I will be there," Jay had said, her voice completely serious now, all traces of teasing gone, both hands coming to cup Alexia's face properly, making sure Alexia was looking at her, was seeing the sincerity in her expression. "I promise you, Ale. I will be at your mum's house at seven thirty. This errand is quick. It's literally just picking something up. I'll be in and out in fifteen minutes, and then I'll drive straight there. I know this is important. I know your mum made my favourite's. I know Alba is coming. I know this matters. I won't let you down. I won't be late. I swear on everything. On us. I'll be there."

Alexia had felt something tight in her chest loosen slightly at the seriousness in Jay's voice, at the way she'd made it a real promise instead of a casual agreement, at the way she'd invoked them, had sworn on their relationship like it was something sacred.

Which it absolutely was.

"Okay," she'd said quietly, her accent thick, her voice softer now. "Okay, I believe you. I trust you. Just be careful, sí? On the motorcycle. The traffic is bad this time of evening. Everyone is going home from work. People are tired and distracted and driving badly. You need to be careful. You need to pay attention. You need to not take risks."

"I'm always careful."

"You are not always careful," Alexia had corrected immediately. "You are sometimes careful. You are occasionally careful when you remember to be careful. But you also drive too fast. You weave between cars like you are playing video game. You take risks that make my heart stop when I think about them. You act like you are invincible when you are very much not invincible."

"I'm a good driver though. I've been riding motorcycles since I was seventeen. I know what I'm doing. I understand the mechanics and the physics and the limitations."

"Knowing what you are doing and being safe are not the same thing," Alexia had pointed out, her hands tightening slightly on Jay's waist under her hoodie, gripping a little harder, needing the contact. "You can be skilled and still have accident. Other drivers are unpredictable. You cannot control what they do. You cannot account for their mistakes. You can be perfect and still get hurt because someone else does something stupid."

"Baby," Jay had said gently, recognising the real anxiety under Alexia's scolding, the genuine fear that Alexia tried to keep buried but that surfaced every time Jay got on the motorcycle, every time they separated and Jay drove away on that machine that Alexia simultaneously loved and hated. "I'll be careful I promise. I'll drive like my girlfriend's mum is waiting for me for dinner and I can't be late because it would make my girlfriend upset and I love my girlfriend more than anything and would never want to disappoint her. Okay? I'll be cautious and safe and boring. I'll follow all the traffic laws. I'll leave extra space between me and other vehicles. I'll drive like I'm taking my driving test and need to pass perfectly."

"Okay," Alexia had agreed, though her hands had tightened even more on Jay's waist, like she didn't want to let go, didn't want to watch Jay drive away into the evening traffic, wanted to keep her here in this car park where she was safe and close and not at risk of being hit by careless drivers.

They'd been quiet for a moment, just looking at each other in the fading light, the sunset painting everything in shades of gold and amber and deepening blue, both of them aware they needed to separate, needed to start their evenings, but neither wanting to be the first to pull away.

"I love you," Alexia had said quietly, the words slipping out without her fully intending them to, just needing to say it, needing Jay to hear it. "I love you very much. You know this, sí?"

"I know," Jay had said, smiling that soft private smile that was just for Alexia, just for these moments, the one that made Alexia's chest feel too full, made her wonder how one person could contain so much affection for another person without bursting from it. "I love you too. So much. More than I can properly express most of the time. You're my whole world. My entire. Everything good in my life traces back to you somehow."

"You are being very romantic for someone who is about to leave me to do mysterious errand."

"Can't help it. You make me romantic. You make me want to say mushy things. You make me forget how to be cool and detached and play it casual. You make me want to tell you I love you seventeen times a day just to make sure you know, even though you definitely already know because I tell you constantly."

"You have never been cool or detached in your entire life," Alexia had said, smiling now despite her reluctance to let Jay leave. "You are the opposite of those things. You are warm and. And too attached. You feel everything too much. You are walking feelings. You are emotions with legs."

"Only with you," Jay had said seriously. "Only about you. Everything else I can be normal about. But you. You make me feel everything too intensely. Make me want to tell you I love you seventeen times a day. Make me want to touch you constantly. Make me into this person who can't function properly when you're not around. Who gets anxious when we're apart. Who checks my phone every five minutes to see if you've texted. Who. Who is just completely gone for you in ways that would probably be embarrassing if I cared about being embarrassed."

"That is very sweet," Alexia had said, her voice slightly thick now, her accent heavier with emotion that was threatening to overflow. "That is. You are going to make me cry in the training ground car park if you keep saying things like that. You are going to make me emotional in public."

"Can't have that. You'd get mad at me for making you emotional before family dinner. You'd say I ruined your emotional composure. Your captain composure. Can't have Alexia Putellas getting teary eyed in public. Can't have the Barcelona captain crying over her girlfriend being romantic. That would be bad for your image. Very unprofessional."

"You ruin my composure all the time," Alexia had pointed out. "Is your special talent. Making me lose control. Making me feel too much. Making me forget to be professional captain and just be. Just be person who loves you. Who is so in love with you it makes me stupid sometimes."

Jay had kissed her then, unable to resist anymore, unable to keep talking without touching, without connecting properly.

Had leaned down and captured Alexia's mouth with her own, soft and deep and thorough, the kind of kiss that said everything words couldn't quite manage, that communicated things language wasn't equipped to express.

Alexia had made a small sound of pleasure, had pressed closer, had kissed Jay back with matching intensity, her hands sliding up Jay's back under her hoodie, fingers spreading wide across warm skin and muscle and the reality of her.

They'd kissed like that for a long moment, unhurried and sweet and full of affection, both of them pouring everything they felt into the contact, the connection, the perfect fit of their mouths together that still surprised Alexia sometimes, still felt new even after all this time.

When they'd finally separated, both breathing slightly harder, Alexia had rested her forehead against Jay's chest, had needed a moment to collect herself, to remember they were in public, to gather her scattered thoughts that Jay had thoroughly disrupted with that kiss.

"You need to go," she'd said, though she hadn't moved, hadn't loosened her grip on Jay's back, her hands still spread wide under the hoodie. "You need to do your errand so you can get to Mami's on time. You need to leave now or you will be late and then I will be upset with you and you do not want me upset with you."

"I really don't," Jay had agreed. "Upset Alexia is scary. Upset Alexia gives me silent treatment. Upset Alexia makes me sleep on the couch. I'm very motivated to not make you upset."

"Then go do your errand. Go pick up your mysterious thing. Then come to dinner. Seven thirty."

"I'm going. I'm leaving right now. This second. Immediately."

But neither of them had moved, had just stood there holding each other in the car park as the sky darkened overhead and the evening settled around them like a blanket.

"Ale," Jay had said gently, a laugh in her voice. "Baby, you need to let go of me so I can actually leave. Your hands are still under my hoodie. You're still holding onto me. I can't leave if you won't let me go."

"I know. I am letting go. I just need one more minute. One more minute of this."

"You can have all the minutes you want. But then I'll definitely be late and you'll be upset with me and we'll have problems."

"This is true. Okay, I am letting go now. For real this time."

But she'd tightened her grip instead, had pressed even closer, had breathed in the scent of Jay's hoodie and skin and shower gel and the fading smell of training still clinging to both of them.

"Alexia," Jay had said, laughing quietly, her arms tightening around Alexia in return because apparently neither of them was capable of actually initiating the separation. "Come on. I really do need to go. You're the one who said I need to be on time. You're making me late by not letting go."

"I know, I know. Vale, I am releasing you. Right now. In three seconds. One. Two."

She hadn't made it to three before Jay had kissed the top of her head and had gently untangled herself, had stepped back with visible reluctance, had put physical space between them even though both of them clearly hated it.

"Seven thirty," Jay had said, walking backward toward her motorcycle so she could keep looking at Alexia, not ready to turn away yet. "I'll be there. I promise. Set your watch by it. Call the news. Alert the media. Jay Jones is going to be on time."

"I will believe it when I see it," Alexia had said, but she'd been smiling despite her words, despite her skepticism.

Jay had reached her motorcycle, had pulled on the leather jacket that had been hanging over the seat, the worn black leather that fitted her perfectly, that made her look unfairly attractive in ways that Alexia appreciated very much even while hating what the jacket represented.

Had grabbed her helmet, had swung her leg over the bike with that practiced easy grace that came from years of riding, that made the whole motion look effortless and fluid and entirely too attractive for Alexia's peace of mind.

The engine had roared to life, loud and aggressive in the quiet car park, the sound making Alexia's chest tighten with that familiar anxiety that came every time Jay started that machine, every time she prepared to drive off into traffic.

Jay had looked over at her one more time, had given her that smile through the open helmet visor, bright and warm and full of affection, had raised one hand in a wave.

"Love you," she'd called over the engine noise, her voice competing with the mechanical rumble. "See you in an hour. Maybe less. Probably less because I'm going to be so efficient. You're going to be shocked by my efficiency. Amazed even."

"I love you too," Alexia had called back, raising her own hand to wave even though they were only meters apart, even though it was silly. "Be safe. Please be safe. Drive carefully. Pay attention. Do not take risks."

"Always am," Jay had said, and had pulled the visor down, and had guided the motorcycle toward the exit with smooth controlled movements that at least suggested competence if not the extreme caution Alexia would have preferred.

Alexia had stood there watching, rooted to the spot, unable to make herself leave until Jay was out of sight.

Had watched Jay navigate through the mostly empty car park, her movements confident and sure.

Had watched her pause at the exit to check for traffic, actually stopping and looking both ways like she was supposed to, like she'd promised she would be careful.

Had watched her accelerate onto the street and disappear around the corner, the sound of the motorcycle fading gradually into the general noise of Barcelona evening traffic, becoming indistinguishable from all the other vehicles, just another motor in the symphony of the city.

Had stood there for another moment after Jay was completely gone, just looking at the empty space where she'd been, feeling that strange hollow feeling that always came when Jay left, when they separated, when Alexia had to go one direction and Jay went another.

The feeling didn't usually last long. Usually disappeared within a few minutes once Alexia got distracted by whatever she was doing next. But tonight it lingered, settled in her chest like a weight, made her uncomfortable in ways she couldn't quite name.

Had told herself she was being ridiculous, that she'd see Jay in less than two hours, that this was a normal evening separation and not something to feel strange about, that the hollow feeling was just her being unnecessarily anxious about the motorcycle like always.

Had gotten into her own car anyway feeling unsettled, the key in the ignition but her hand not turning it yet, just sitting there in the driver's seat looking at the empty parking space next to her where Jay's motorcycle had been.

Had pulled out her phone and had sent a quick text before she could talk herself out of it.

Alexia: I love you. Drive safe. See you soon.

The message had delivered immediately, the double checkmarks appearing, indicating Jay's phone had received it.

But no response came. Which made sense. Jay was driving. Shouldn't be looking at her phone. Was probably already on Avinguda Diagonal heading toward wherever she needed to go for this mysterious errand.

Alexia had put her phone in the cupholder and had finally started the car, had pulled out of the parking space and had driven toward her mum's house, taking the familiar route through Barcelona evening traffic, the streets busy with people heading home from work, heading out for dinner, starting their Thursday evenings.

The drive had taken twenty minutes, the traffic moderate, the sun setting behind the buildings as she'd navigated through the city.

Had spent the entire drive telling herself the unsettled feeling would pass, that it was just normal concern about Jay on the motorcycle, that everything was fine, that Jay would show up at seven thirty like she'd promised and they'd have a lovely dinner and Alexia would find out what the mysterious errand had been about.

Alexia had arrived at her mother's house at seven fifteen, fifteen minutes early, wanting to help with final preparations, wanting to be useful, wanting to be there when Jay arrived so they could go in together, so she could see Jay's face when Eli fussed over her the way she always did.

Had parked on the street outside, had grabbed her bag from the passenger seat, had walked up to the front door and had let herself in with her key, calling out as she entered.

"Mami, I am here!"

Eli's house had been warm and bright and smelling absolutely incredible, the scent of sofrito and roasting meat and fresh bread filling the air, making Alexia's stomach remind her she'd barely eaten since lunch, had just had a protein bar after training and nothing since.

Her mum had appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dishcloth, her face lighting up at the sight of Alexia.

"Mija! You are early! This is. This is suspicious. You are never early. Are you feeling okay? Are you sick?"

"I am not sick, Mami. I wanted to help. And I wanted to be here when Jay arrives."

Eli had pulled her into a hug, warm and tight and smelling like cooking and the perfume she always wore, the scent of home and safety and childhood.

"Where is Jay? I thought she would come with you like always."

"She had an errand to run. She will be here at seven thirty. She promised."

"An errand?" Eli had pulled back to look at Alexia's face, her expression curious. "What kind of errand happens on Thursday evening before family dinner?"

"I do not know. She would not tell me. She was being secretive. But she said she would be here on time so she will be here on time."

Eli had made a thoughtful sound, had studied Alexia's face for a moment longer, and then had nodded and had turned back toward the kitchen.

"Well, come help me then. You can set the table. Alba is already here, she is in the living room being useless like always."

Alexia had followed her into the kitchen, had been greeted by the sight of multiple pots on the stove, dishes in various stages of preparation, the organised chaos of Eli in full cooking mode.

"You made so much food, Mami. This is too much. We cannot eat all of this."

"Is not too much. Is enough. You are too skinny, you need to eat more. Jay is too skinny, she needs to eat more. I am making sure you both eat properly."

"We eat properly. We are professional athletes. We have nutritionists. We have meal plans."

"Meal plans do not include love. My food includes love. Is better."

Alexia had smiled despite herself, had started setting the table in the small dining room while Eli continued her work in the kitchen, the comfortable rhythm of being in her childhood home, of helping her mother, of existing in this space that had always been safe.

Alba had wandered in from the living room, had been sprawled on the sofa scrolling through her phone, looking comfortable in leggings and an oversized sweater, her hair pulled back in a messy bun.

"Ale! You're early! Are you dying? Is this a sign of the apocalypse?"

"Everyone is very funny about me being early. It is not that unusual."

"It's extremely unusual. You're usually exactly on time or five minutes late. Early is unprecedented. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

"I am fine. I just wanted to help Mami."

"Where's Jay? She's usually attached to you. Did you finally get sick of her?"

"She had an errand. She will be here at seven thirty."

Alba had looked up from her phone at that, her expression shifting to something more interested.

"An errand? What kind of errand? Since when does Jay do errands separately?"

"I do not know. She would not tell me. But she promised she would be here on time."

"Mysterious," Alba had said, going back to her phone. "Maybe she's buying you something. Maybe it's a surprise. Maybe it's romantic."

"Maybe," Alexia had agreed, though she'd felt that unsettled feeling stir in her chest again, that strange anxiety that she couldn't quite explain.

She'd finished setting the table, had returned to the kitchen to help Eli with final preparations, had checked the clock on the wall.

7:27 PM.

Three minutes until Jay was supposed to arrive.

Alexia had pulled out her phone, had checked for messages.

Nothing. Just her text from earlier, still sitting there with the double checkmarks, still unread.

Which made sense. Jay was probably driving. Probably almost here. Probably would walk through the door any second with that grin and some ridiculous story about the errand and what she'd been doing.

7:30 PM.

Alexia had been watching the door, waiting for the knock, for the sound of the motorcycle pulling up outside.

Nothing.

7:31 PM.

Still nothing.

Alexia had felt the first stirring of concern, had pulled out her phone and had sent a text.

Alexia: Where are you? Dinner is ready.

The message had delivered immediately, the single checkmark appearing, indicating it had been sent to Jay's phone.

But no second checkmark. No indication it had been received by Jay's device specifically.

Which was strange. Jay's phone was always on. Always connected.

7:35 PM.

No response. No knock at the door. No Jay.

Alexia had felt the concern intensify, had felt it shift from mild annoyance to actual worry.

Had called Jay's phone.

It had rung once, a brief moment of hope, and then had gone straight to voicemail.

The automated message had played in Jay's voice, cheerful and casual.

"Hi, you've reached Jay. Can't come to the phone right now. Leave a message and I'll call you back when I can. Unless this is about extending my car's warranty, in which case please lose this number. Cheers."

The beep had sounded and Alexia had said, "Jay, where are you? Call me back. We are waiting."

Had hung up and had immediately tried again.

Straight to voicemail again. Didn't even ring this time.

Her phone was off. Or dead. Or something.

Jay's phone was never off. She kept it charged. Even when the battery was low she'd plug it in. She didn't just let it die.

7:40 PM.

Eli had appeared in the doorway of the dining room where Alexia had been pacing, phone in hand.

"Ale, is Jay coming soon? The food is getting cold."

"She should be here any minute, Mami. I am sure she is just. She is running late. You know how she is with time."

But Alexia's voice had sounded unconvincing even to herself, had wavered slightly on the words.

Because Jay had promised. Had specifically promised. Had made it a real serious promise about being on time for dinner.

And Jay kept her promises. Especially the serious ones. Especially the ones about things that mattered.

Alexia had been pacing properly now, walking back and forth in the living room, phone clutched in her hand, calling Jay every few minutes and getting voicemail every time, the same cheerful message mocking her with its casual tone.

Alba had been watching her with increasing concern, had sat up from her sprawled position on the sofa, had put her phone down entirely.

"Ale. What's wrong? Why are you pacing like that? You only pace when you're really worried about something."

"She is not answering. Her phone is off. She promised she would be here at seven thirty and it is almost eight and she is not here and she is not answering and something. Something does not feel right. Something is wrong."

"Maybe her phone died. Maybe she got caught up in the errand and lost track of time. Maybe she's just. You know. Being Jay. Being chaotic. She'll probably show up any minute with some ridiculous excuse."

"No. No, she would not do that. Not tonight. She promised. She specifically promised me she would be on time. She knows this is important. She would not be this late without calling. Without telling me. Something is wrong. I know something is wrong. I can feel it."

Alba had looked at her for a long moment, had seemed to process the genuine fear in Alexia's voice, and had stood up from the sofa.

"Okay. Okay, what do you want to do? Should we drive around looking for her? Should we call someone?"

8:00 PM.

Alexia had called Lucy, her hands shaking slightly as she'd held the phone to her ear.

"Hey, Ale, what's up?"

"Have you heard from Jay? Has she called you or texted you in the last hour?"

"No, why? Is something wrong?"

"She is late to dinner at my mami's. She was supposed to be here at seven thirty. She is not answering her phone. Her phone is off. I am worried. I am very worried."

"She probably just lost track of time, Ale. You know how Jay is. She's. I'm sure she's fine."

"No. No, she promised. She made me a real promise. She would not break that promise without reason. Without calling. Something is wrong. I know something is wrong. Can you. Can you please drive around and look for her? Check the route from the training ground? Please, Lucy. I need. I need to know she is okay."

There had been a pause on the other end of the line, Lucy processing the fear in Alexia's voice, the genuine panic starting to come through.

"Of course. Of course, Ale. I'm leaving now. I'll drive the route and I'll call you if I see anything. It's going to be okay. She's probably fine. She probably just. She's probably fine."

But Lucy's voice had lacked conviction, had sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as Alexia.

Alexia had hung up and had immediately called Keira, had asked the same thing, had sent her in a different direction, covering more ground, trying to find Jay somewhere in the city.

Had felt panic properly starting now, clawing at her throat, making it hard to breathe, making her chest feel tight and constricted.

8:15 PM.

Eli had come into the living room, had seen Alexia pacing with her phone, her face pale, her movements jerky with anxiety.

"Mija, what is happening? Where is Jay? Why are you so upset?"

"I do not know, Mami. I do not know where she is. She is not answering. Her phone is off. She is. Something is wrong. I can feel it. Something has happened."

"You are worrying too much. She is probably fine. Probably just late. You know Jay is always late."

"Not like this. Not for this. Not when she promised. She does not get this late without calling. She would call. She would tell me. She would. Mami, I am scared. I am very scared right now."

Eli had pulled her into a hug, had held her tight, her arms strong and reassuring, her voice soothing.

"Shh, mija. Shh. It will be okay. She will be okay. Everything will be okay."

But Alexia couldn't stop the panic, couldn't slow her breathing, couldn't shake the terrible certainty that something was very wrong.

Alba had been on her own phone now, calling Jay's number repeatedly, getting the same voicemail message every time.

"Her phone is definitely off," Alba had confirmed, her voice tight. "It is going straight to voicemail. No ringing. Just. Just straight to voicemail."

8:20 PM.

The panic had been overwhelming now, full blown and consuming, Alexia's hands shaking as she'd held her phone, her mind racing through every terrible possibility.

Motorcycle accidents. Barcelona traffic. Distracted drivers. Car doors opening suddenly. Vehicles turning without looking. The thousand ways something could go wrong when you were on a motorcycle in a city full of cars.

She'd been about to call the hospitals, about to start making official inquiries, when Alba had said something that had made everything stop.

"Ale." Alba's voice had been strange, serious in a way it rarely was. "Do you have some kind of bad feeling about this? Like. Like something in your gut is telling you something is wrong? Something specific?"

Alexia had looked at her sister, had seen the unusual gravity in Alba's expression.

"Sí. Sí, I have that feeling. I have that feeling very strongly. Like. Like something terrible has happened and I do not know what but I know it is bad. Why? Why are you asking this?"

Alba had been quiet for a moment, her face serious, her usual humour completely absent.

"Because I have it too. And I never have it. I do not worry like this about things. I do not get bad feelings. But right now I. I feel like something is very wrong. Something is very very wrong and I do not know what it is but I know. I know something has happened."

They'd looked at each other across the living room, sisters united in mounting dread, both of them feeling the same terrible certainty that something was wrong even though they had no concrete evidence, just the sick feeling in their stomachs and the complete silence from Jay.

8:25 PM.

Alexia had been about to call another hospital, had been pulling up the number with shaking hands, when she'd heard it.

The sound of a vehicle pulling up outside.

Not a motorcycle. A car. Multiple doors closing.

Footsteps on the path to the front door.

Heavy footsteps. Official sounding footsteps.

And then the knock.

Not the casual knock of a friend. Not the quick knock of a delivery person.

Firm. Measured. Official.

The kind of knock that made Alexia's blood run cold.

She'd frozen completely, phone still in her hand, looking at the front door like it was about to deliver a verdict she didn't want to hear.

Alba had stood up from the sofa, had moved toward the door, and Alexia had wanted to scream at her to wait, to not answer it, to leave it closed because once they opened it whatever was on the other side became real, became undeniable, became something they had to face.

But Alba had already been pulling the door open, and Alexia had been moving toward the entrance hall on legs that felt unsteady, and Eli had been coming from the kitchen where she'd been trying to keep the food warm, and then they'd all been standing there in the small entrance hall looking at what was on the other side of the door.

Two police officers.

Uniformed. Official. Their expressions carefully neutral in that way that meant they were delivering bad news, that they'd practiced this, that they knew what they were about to say would change everything for whoever heard it.

The older one, a man maybe in his fifties with grey at his temples and kind eyes, had looked at Alexia specifically, had seemed to recognize her even though she couldn't imagine how.

"Miss Putellas?"

Alexia had nodded, unable to speak, her throat completely closed, her entire body rigid with fear.

"I'm Officer Ramírez. This is my partner Officer Santos. May we come in for a moment?"

Alexia had nodded again, mechanical, automatic, had stepped back to let them into the entrance hall even though everything in her was screaming not to, was screaming that if she didn't let them in then whatever they had to say wouldn't be real.

Eli had appeared at her shoulder immediately, had put a hand on Alexia's back, warm and grounding even though Alexia could feel it shaking slightly.

Alba had stood frozen by the door, her face pale, her eyes wide.

"What is this about?" Eli had asked, her voice steady even though her hand on Alexia's back was trembling. "What has happened? Why are you here?"

Officer Ramírez had looked at them, had glanced at his partner, and then back at Alexia, and in that moment, in that brief second before he spoke, Alexia had known.

Had known with absolute certainty what he was about to say.

Had known it was about Jay.

Had known something terrible had happened.

"There's been an accident," he'd said gently, and Alexia had felt the world tilt sideways, had felt the floor become unstable beneath her feet, had felt everything go strange and distant and wrong.

"No," she'd heard herself say, the word coming out broken, barely a sound. "No. Please. Please do not say it. Please do not. Please."

"Miss Putellas, I'm sorry," Officer Santos had said, the woman's voice kind but firm. "There was a traffic accident about an hour ago. A motorcycle was involved."

"No," Alexia had said again, louder this time, her voice cracking. "No no no, please, please do not say what you are about to say. Please. I know what you are going to say and I cannot. I cannot hear it. Please."

"Alexia," Eli had said quietly, her hand tightening on Alexia's back. "Mija, let them speak. Let them tell us what happened."

But Alexia had been shaking her head, had been backing up, had been trying to back away from the officers and what they represented and what they were about to tell her.

"No. Because if they say it then it is real. If they say it out loud then it happened and I cannot. I cannot. Please. Please just.. Is she. Is she."

Alexia couldn't even finish the question, couldn't form the words, couldn't ask if Jay was dead because asking made it possible, made it a reality that might exist.

Officer Ramírez had stepped forward slightly, his expression gentle, his voice calm.

"Miss Jones is alive," he'd said clearly, firmly, and Alexia had felt her knees give out, had actually collapsed slightly, Eli catching her, holding her up.

"She is alive?" Alexia had gasped, tears spilling over immediately, her whole body shaking. "She is alive? She is not. She is not dead?"

"No. She is alive. She is at Hospital Clínic. She was conscious when the paramedics transported her. She is alive, Miss Putellas."

And Alexia had started sobbing, proper crying, the kind that came from somewhere deep and terrified, all the fear of the last hour, all the terrible certainty that something was wrong, all the panic that had been building, all of it coming out in broken sounds and tears that she couldn't control.

"She is alive," Alexia had repeated through the crying, like saying it would make it more true, more real, more certain. "She is alive. She is not dead. She is alive."

Eli had been holding her up, had been supporting her weight while she cried, while she processed, while she tried to understand that Jay was alive, was hurt but alive, was in the hospital but alive.

"What happened?" Alba had asked, her voice tight, stepping forward now. "What kind of accident? How bad is she hurt?"

"There was a collision at the intersection of Avinguda Diagonal and Carrer de Tuset," Officer Santos had explained, her voice professional but not unkind. "A vehicle turned left into Miss Jones's path. She was unable to avoid the collision. The impact threw her from the motorcycle. She was wearing a helmet which protected her head, but she sustained other injuries."

"What injuries?" Alexia had managed, wiping at her face with shaking hands, trying to pull herself together enough to understand what they were saying. "What is wrong with her? How bad is it?"

"We don't have detailed medical information," Officer Ramírez had said. "The paramedics were treating her when we left the scene. She was conscious and talking. She was asking for you, actually. Kept saying she needed to call Alexia. Needed to tell you she was okay. The paramedics had to focus on treating her injuries rather than making phone calls, but she was very insistent that you needed to know she was alive."

Fresh tears had spilled down Alexia's face at that, at the image of Jay hurt and wanting Alexia, asking for her, trying to reach her.

"Her phone," Alexia had said. "Her phone has been off. I have been trying to call for over an hour. It goes straight to voicemail. Why is her phone off?"

The officers had exchanged a glance.

"The phone was damaged in the accident," Officer Santos had said carefully. "It was destroyed. Completely. There is no phone to be on or off. It was crushed."

"Crushed," Alexia had repeated numbly. "Her phone was crushed. That is why she could not call me. That is why I could not reach her. Because it was destroyed."

"Yes. I'm sorry. I know you must have been very worried when you couldn't reach her."

"I need to go to her," Alexia had said, already moving, already looking for her jacket, her keys, her bag. "I need to go to the hospital right now. I need to see her. Where is she? Which hospital?"

"Hospital Clínic. We can drive you if you'd like. It will be faster than driving yourself."

"Sí. Yes. Please. Please take me there now. Right now. I need. I need to see her. I need to see that she is alive. I need to. Please."

Eli had grabbed Alexia's jacket from the hook by the door, had wrapped it around her shoulders even though Alexia hadn't noticed she was shaking, hadn't registered that her whole body was trembling with the aftermath of fear and adrenaline.

"I am coming with you," Eli had said firmly, in that tone that meant this was not up for debate.

"Me too," Alba had added, her voice shaking slightly now that the initial shock was wearing off.

They'd moved as a group toward the police car parked outside, the dinner completely forgotten, the evening plans abandoned, everything that had seemed important an hour ago utterly irrelevant now.

Alexia had climbed into the back seat, Eli beside her immediately, pulling her close, Alba in the front, and the car had pulled away from the curb with lights flashing but no sirens, moving through Barcelona evening traffic that parted for them, every second feeling like too long, every minute they spent not at the hospital feeling like an eternity.

Alexia had pulled out her phone with trembling hands, had tried calling Jay one more time even though she knew it was pointless, even though she knew the phone was destroyed, just needed to do something, needed to try, needed to hear the voicemail one more time.

"Hi, you've reached Jay. Can't come to the phone right now. Leave a message and I'll call you back when I can. Unless this is about extending my car's warranty, in which case please lose this number. Cheers."

The automated message ended and the beep sounded and Alexia had opened her mouth to speak and nothing had come out except a small broken sound.

She'd ended the call and had dropped the phone in her lap and had pressed her face into Eli's shoulder and had tried to get her breathing under control, tried to stop the tears that kept coming.

Because Jay was alive.

Jay was hurt but alive.

Jay was in the hospital but alive.

Jay had been asking for her.

Jay had tried to call her.

Jay was alive.

That was the important thing. The only thing that mattered.

Everything else they could deal with. Injuries could heal. Motorcycles could be replaced. Phones could be fixed.

But Jay was alive.

"She will be okay," Eli had whispered fiercely, her arms tight around Alexia, her voice absolutely certain. "Jay is strong. She is tough. She will be okay. You will see. We will get to the hospital and she will be there and she will be okay."

Alexia had nodded against her mother's shoulder, had wanted to believe it, had needed to believe it.

Had watched the Barcelona streets blur past the window and had thought about the last thing she'd said to Jay in the car park.

I love you too. Be safe. Please be safe.

And Jay had promised she would be.

Had promised she'd be careful.

Had promised she'd be at dinner at seven thirty.

Had kept none of those promises.

But she was alive.

That was enough.

That had to be enough.

Please let that be enough.

The police car had pulled up to the emergency entrance with lights still flashing, the blue and red illuminating the white hospital facade in rhythmic pulses that made everything feel surreal, made the world feel like it had tilted off its axis and hadn't quite settled back into place yet.

Alexia had been out of the car before it had fully stopped moving, her hand on the door handle the entire last block, her body coiled and ready to move the second the vehicle was stationary enough for her to safely exit.

Her legs had felt unsteady beneath her when her feet hit the pavement, like she'd forgotten how to walk properly, like her body was operating on autopilot while her brain tried desperately to process everything that had happened in the last hour.

Eli had been right behind her, had grabbed Alexia's arm to steady her when she'd swayed slightly, Alba close on their heels, all three of them moving toward the automatic doors with singular purpose.

The officers had led them through, had walked them past the waiting area with its uncomfortable plastic chairs and fluorescent lighting and people in various states of distress, had approached the reception desk where a nurse in blue scrubs had looked up at their approach.

Officer Ramírez had spoken quietly to the nurse, too quietly for Alexia to hear, had gestured back at them, and the nurse's expression had shifted to something softer, more sympathetic.

She'd looked at Alexia directly, her eyes kind despite the professional efficiency in her posture.

"You're here for Jay Jones?" she'd asked in Spanish, her accent Catalan, her voice gentle.

"Sí, please, where is she? How is she? I need to see her. Please tell me I can see her right now."

"She's being treated currently. The doctors are with her. Someone will come speak with you as soon as they have information about her condition."

"No," Alexia had said, shaking her head, her hands gripping the edge of the reception desk like she might climb over it. "No, I cannot wait. I need to see her now. I need to know she is okay. The officers said she was conscious, that she was talking, I need to see that myself. Please. Please let me see her."

"I understand, I do, but the medical team needs space to work. They're doing everything they can for her. As soon as the doctors are able, someone will come update you. I promise you. But right now the best thing you can do is wait here and let them do their job."

The nurse had gestured toward the waiting area, had been professional and kind but immovable, and Alexia had felt frustration war with helplessness in her chest.

She'd wanted to argue, to demand to be taken to Jay immediately, to push past the desk and search every room until she found her.

But Eli's hand had tightened on her arm, grounding her, pulling her back from the edge of doing something that would only make the situation worse.

"Come, mija," Eli had said quietly, her voice gentle but firm. "We wait. We let the doctors work. And then we see her. Ven aquí."

Alexia had let herself be guided to the waiting area, had sat down mechanically in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, Eli on one side, Alba on the other, both of them close enough that their shoulders touched, providing physical comfort through proximity.

The waiting area had been half full. Other people with their own emergencies, their own crises, their own reasons for being in this terrible place on a Thursday evening.

An elderly man holding a bloody towel to his hand, muttering in Catalan to his wife who sat beside him looking worried. A young mother with a crying toddler who had a badly swollen ankle, bouncing the child gently while making soothing sounds. A teenager who looked concussed, his friends hovering anxiously nearby, one of them holding an ice pack to the boy's head.

All of them waiting. All of them in various states of distress. All of them wanting to be anywhere else.

Alexia had stared at the double doors that led to the treatment area, had focused on them with laser intensity, waiting for someone to emerge, waiting for information, waiting for anything.

Her phone had been in her hand, screen dark, and she'd kept pressing the button to wake it up, kept looking at it like new information might appear even though she knew it wouldn't, knew Jay's phone was destroyed, knew there would be no texts, no calls, no communication until Alexia could see her in person.

The last text she'd sent was still sitting there, mocking her with its presence.

Alexia: Where are you? Dinner is ready.

Sent at 7:37 PM.

Delivered but never read.

Never read because Jay had been in an accident.

Never read because Jay's phone had been crushed.

Never read because Jay had been lying on Avinguda Diagonal injured and unable to reach Alexia to tell her she was okay.

Alexia had stared at the message for a long moment, and then something had occurred to her, something important, something she should have thought of immediately.

Julia.

Clara.

Jay's people. Her chosen family.

They needed to know. They would want to know. They would be devastated if Alexia didn't tell them.

And also, selfishly, Alexia needed them. Needed their calm presence. Needed Julia's practical efficiency and Clara's gentle steadiness.

Her hands had been shaking as she'd pulled up Julia's contact, had typed out a message.

Alexia: Julia, there has been an accident. Jay was on her motorcycle. She is alive but hurt. We are at Hospital Clínic. Can you come?

She'd hit send and had immediately started typing another message to Clara.

Alexia: Clara, Jay has been in accident on motorcycle. She is at Hospital Clínic emergency. She is alive. I do not know more yet. Please come if you can.

Both messages had delivered immediately, the double checkmarks appearing, and Alexia had gripped the phone tightly, waiting for responses.

They'd come almost simultaneously, within seconds of each other.

Julia: On our way. 10 minutes. Is she conscious? Do you know the extent of injuries?

Clara: We're leaving now. Are you okay? Do you need anything?

Alexia had felt tears blur her vision at the responses, at the immediate caring, at the way they'd both responded with exactly what she needed.

Alexia: She was conscious when paramedics took her. I do not know injuries yet. Waiting for doctor. And no I am not okay but I will be when I can see her.

Julia: We'll be there soon. Hang in there, cariño.

Alexia had put her phone down and had gone back to staring at the doors, her leg bouncing with nervous energy she couldn't contain.

"Mija," Eli had said softly, her hand covering Alexia's where it gripped her knee. "You need to breathe properly. You are breathing too fast again. You will make yourself sick if you hyperventilate."

Alexia hadn't realised her breathing had gone shallow and rapid again, hadn't noticed the way her chest was moving too quickly, the way the edges of her vision were going slightly grey from lack of proper oxygen.

Had tried to slow down, to take deeper breaths, had counted in her head the way her sports psychologist had taught her years ago for managing anxiety.

In for four. Hold for four. Out for four.

It hadn't worked very well. Her body had been too flooded with adrenaline and fear for breathing exercises to make much difference.

Alba had been watching her with concern, had grabbed a paper cup from the water cooler near the wall and had filled it, had thrust it at Alexia.

"Drink. You need water. You are shaking like you are freezing even though it is warm in here. You need to hydrate or you will pass out and then we will have two people in hospital."

Alexia had taken the cup with trembling hands, had brought it to her lips and had managed a few sips before setting it down on the chair next to her, unable to drink more, her stomach too twisted with anxiety to handle it.

"I texted Julia and Clara," she'd said quietly, needing to say something, needing to fill the silence. "They are coming. They will be here soon."

"That is good," Eli had said, squeezing her hand. "Jay will want to see them. They are. They are her family, no? Julia and Clara?"

"Sí. They are her family. Julia has been her agent since she was eighteen but she is more than that. She is like her mother. And Clara is her therapist but also like family. They both are. They will want to be here."

"Then it is good you told them," Alba had said. "Jay will need them. And you will need them too, I think. You look like you are about to fall apart."

"I am fine."

"You are very much not fine. You are the opposite of fine. You are. What is the English word. A mess. You are a mess right now."

"My girlfriend was hit by a car," Alexia had said, her voice cracking slightly. "I am allowed to be a mess."

"Sí, you are allowed. I am just saying. You are. You are very much being a mess right now and that is okay."

The minutes had crawled by with agonising slowness.

Five minutes.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Each one feeling like an hour, like a day, like an eternity of not knowing.

Alexia had been staring at the treatment area doors so intently that her eyes had started to burn, but she couldn't look away, couldn't blink, couldn't miss the moment when someone finally emerged with information.

Her mind had been racing through scenarios, through possibilities, through everything the officers had said and everything they hadn't said.

She was conscious when the paramedics transported her.

That was good. Conscious was good. Conscious meant she was awake, was aware, was alive in a meaningful way.

She sustained other injuries.

What did that mean? What kind of injuries? How bad? Were they talking about broken bones? Internal bleeding? Something that required surgery? Something permanent? Something that would end her career?

The helmet protected her head.

Thank god. Thank god Jay had been wearing her helmet. Thank god she'd done that one thing right even if everything else had gone wrong. Thank god Alexia had nagged her about it constantly, had refused to let her leave the apartment without it, had made such a big deal about helmet safety that Jay always wore it even when she complained about helmet hair.

She was asking for you.

That had made Alexia's chest ache, had made fresh tears threaten to spill over. Jay hurt and scared and asking for Alexia. Jay wanting her. Jay trying to reach her.

And Alexia had been at her mother's house pacing and panicking and unable to do anything, unable to help, unable to be there when Jay needed her most.

The automatic doors at the entrance had opened and Alexia's head had snapped toward them, hoping desperately for Jay's doctors, but instead Julia and Clara had walked in, both of them scanning the waiting area, their faces tight with worry.

Julia had spotted them first, had made a beeline toward them, Clara right behind her.

"Alexia," Julia had said, reaching them, her hands immediately going to Alexia's shoulders. "What happened? How is she? Have you seen her yet?"

"No, not yet. The doctors are with her. They said. They said someone would come talk to us soon but it has been twenty minutes and no one has come and I do not. I do not know anything except what the police told us."

"What did the police say?" Clara had asked, sitting down next to Alba, her voice calm and professional but her hands clenched together in her lap.

"That there was a collision. A car turned left into her path. She tried to avoid it but could not. She came off the motorcycle. The helmet protected her head but she has other injuries. They did not tell us what injuries. Just that she was conscious and asking for me."

"Okay," Julia had said, sitting down on Alexia's other side, creating a buffer of support around her. "Okay, conscious is good. Conscious is very good. That means. That means she is going to be okay."

"You do not know that," Alexia had said, her voice breaking. "You do not know she is going to be okay.”

"You are right, I do not know for certain," Julia had admitted, her voice gentle. "But I know Jay. I have known her since she was eighteen years old. I know she is stubborn and strong and she fights. Whatever the injuries are, she will fight to heal from them. That is who she is."

"Her phone was destroyed," Alexia had said, the words tumbling out. "Completely destroyed. That is why I could not reach her. I was calling for over an hour and it went straight to voicemail and I thought. I thought terrible things. And the whole time she could not call me because her phone was crushed."

"Oh, cariño," Clara had said softly. "That must have been terrifying. Not knowing. Not being able to reach her."

"It was the worst hour of my life," Alexia had said, and her voice had been shaking badly now, the adrenaline starting to wear off and leaving her feeling hollow and exhausted. "I have never. I have never felt fear like that. When the police knocked on the door. I thought they were going to tell me she was dead. I thought I had lost her. And for those few seconds before they said she was alive I could not. I could not breathe. I could not think. I could only feel terror."

Eli had wrapped an arm around Alexia's shoulders, had pulled her close, and Alexia had let herself lean into her mother's embrace, had let herself be held while Julia kept a hand on her arm and Clara sat close on the other side.

Twenty minutes.

Still no one had come.

Still no information.

Still nothing except waiting and fear and the terrible unknown.

"This is ridiculous," Julia had said finally, her voice taking on that edge it got when she was about to go into agent mode, when she was about to make things happen through sheer force of will. "I am going to find someone and get answers. We have been waiting long enough."

She'd stood up and had walked toward the reception desk with purpose, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor, and Alexia had watched her go with a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion.

Julia had spoken to the nurse at the desk, her voice too quiet for Alexia to hear but her posture communicating clearly that she expected results.

The nurse had picked up a phone, had made a call, had spoken briefly, and then had nodded at Julia.

Julia had walked back to them, her expression slightly less tense.

"Someone is coming," she'd said. "The doctor will be here in just a few minutes. They are finishing up with Jay now."

"Thank you," Alexia had managed. "Thank you for. For asking. For being here. For everything."

"Of course," Julia had said, sitting back down next to her. "Where else would I be? Jay is my girl. Has been since she was barely more than a child. And you are important to her, which makes you important to me. So of course I am here."

Twenty five minutes.

And then finally, finally, the double doors had opened and a doctor had emerged.

She'd been maybe forty, dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, still in surgical scrubs with a mask pulled down around her neck, latex gloves being stripped off as she walked.

She'd looked tired but not devastated, which Alexia had immediately catalogued as a good sign, had clung to desperately as evidence that Jay was okay, that the injuries weren't catastrophic, that this wasn't the worst-case scenario her brain had been constructing.

"Family of Jay Jones?"

Alexia had shot to her feet so fast she'd gotten dizzy, had swayed slightly, the blood rushing from her head, Eli's hand on her back steadying her while Julia grabbed her elbow.

"Sí, yes," Alexia had said, the words tumbling out too fast, her accent heavier than usual with stress. "I am. How is she? Is she okay? Please, please tell me she is okay."

The doctor had approached them, her expression professional but kind, and Alexia had searched her face desperately for clues, for any hint about what she was about to say.

"I'm Dr. Martínez. I've been treating Miss Jones since she arrived. The first thing you need to know, the most important thing, is that she's stable. She's conscious and alert and she's going to be fine."

Alexia had felt her knees go weak, had actually stumbled slightly, would have fallen if Julia and Eli hadn't both been holding her up.

"She is stable?" Alexia had repeated, needing to hear it again, needing confirmation, needing it to be real. "She is conscious? She is going to be fine? You are certain?"

"Yes, I'm certain. She's going to be fine. She was very lucky, all things considered. It could have been so much worse."

"What are her injuries?" Julia had asked, her voice steady, her agent brain taking over, asking the practical questions that Alexia couldn't quite formulate. "What exactly happened to her?"

Dr. Martínez had consulted the tablet she'd been carrying, had pulled up what was presumably Jay's chart.

"She has a dislocated left shoulder which we've already reduced and stabilised. It was quite badly dislocated so she'll need to keep it immobilised for several weeks while it heals. Significant bruising and road rash on her right side, primarily her arm and leg, from where she impacted the pavement. Multiple cuts and abrasions on her face, hands, and arms, all of which we've cleaned and treated. Possible mild concussion, though the CT scan showed no bleeding or swelling, which is very good news. The helmet did exactly what it was supposed to do. If she hadn't been wearing it, we would be having a very different conversation right now."

"But no broken bones?" Clara had asked quietly. "No internal injuries? Nothing. Nothing that will not heal?"

"No broken bones. The shoulder was dislocated but not fractured, which is extremely fortunate. We did a full body CT scan to check for internal injuries and found nothing concerning. No bleeding, no organ damage, nothing that worries us. She's going to be very sore and uncomfortable for the next few weeks, the road rash in particular is quite extensive and will be painful while it heals, but everything should heal completely without complications."

"Can I see her?" Alexia had asked, the words coming out almost desperate. "Please, can I see her now? I need to. I need to see her. I need to see with my own eyes that she is okay."

"Yes, of course. She's been asking for you constantly. Keeps telling the nurses she needs to see Alexia, that you must be so worried, that someone needs to call you. We had to practically restrain her to keep her still long enough to finish treating her injuries. She was trying to get up, trying to find a phone, very insistent that you needed to know she was alive."

Fresh tears had spilled down Alexia's face at that, hot and fast, at the image of Jay hurt and trying to get up, trying to reach her, trying to make sure Alexia knew she was okay.

"She tried to call me right after," Alexia had said, her voice breaking completely now. "The police said. They said she was asking people to call me. But her phone was destroyed in the crash. It was crushed. She could not reach me and I was. I was calling her over and over and it just went to voicemail and I thought. I thought the worst things. The absolute worst things."

"I know," Dr. Martínez had said gently, her professional demeanor softening. "She told us about the phone. She's very upset about not being able to reach you. She's been apologising to everyone about it even though it obviously wasn't her fault. She seems to think she's somehow responsible for you being worried, which is. Well. That seems to be how her mind works."

"That is exactly how her mind works," Julia had said, a slight smile crossing her face despite the circumstances. "Jay takes responsibility for everything, even things completely out of her control."

"Can I see her now?" Alexia had asked again, unable to wait any longer. "Please. I just. I need to see her."

"Yes. But I want to prepare you first. She looks worse than she is. The road rash is quite extensive and looks quite dramatic, especially on her arm and leg. The bruising is already coming up and it's going to get much worse over the next few days before it starts to improve. Her face has several cuts and she's going to have some impressive bruising around her left shoulder and upper arm from where the joint was dislocated and from the impact. So I want you to mentally prepare yourself for that. She's okay, she's going to heal completely, but she looks pretty beaten up right now."

"I do not care what she looks like," Alexia had said fiercely. "I just need to see her. I just need to confirm she is real and alive and here."

"I understand. She's in treatment room seven. Through those doors, turn left, third door on the right. You can all go in if you'd like, though we'd prefer to keep it to just a few visitors at a time so we don't overwhelm her."

"I will go first," Alexia had said immediately. "Just me. I need a moment with her. Just the two of us first. And then. Then everyone else can come."

"That is fine," Eli had said, squeezing her hand. "You go. We will wait here. Give Jay our love."

"Tell her we are here," Julia had added. "Tell her we are not going anywhere."

Alexia had nodded, had taken a deep breath, had tried to prepare herself for whatever she was about to see.

And then she'd been moving, through the double doors, turning left, counting doors.

One. Two. Three.

Treatment room seven.

The door had been partially open and she'd been able to see inside, had been able to see the hospital bed, the monitors, the IV stand.

Had been able to see Jay.

She'd pushed through the door and had stopped just inside, her breath catching in her throat, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

Jay had been propped up at a slight angle in the hospital bed, the head raised maybe thirty degrees to keep her comfortable.

Her left arm had been immobilised in a sling, strapped tight against her chest, the shoulder clearly swollen beneath the hospital gown.

Her right arm had been covered in bandages from wrist to shoulder, white gauze wrapped carefully around what was presumably extensive road rash, some of it already seeping through slightly, small spots of red and clear fluid staining the white.

Her right leg had been similarly bandaged, the hospital gown pushed up to expose the wrapped limb, more gauze, more evidence of how hard she'd hit the pavement.

But it was her face that had made Alexia's chest constrict so painfully she'd thought for a moment she might actually be having a heart attack.

Multiple cuts and scrapes, already cleaned and treated with that orange brown antiseptic that stained the skin. A particularly nasty looking cut above her left eyebrow, maybe two centimetres long, closed with butterfly strips, the skin around it already turning purple with bruising. Her left cheek was scraped raw, the skin angry and red and weeping slightly. Her bottom lip was split on the right side, swollen and dark, the tissue puffy and damaged.

Bruises were already forming, dark purple and blue spreading across her jaw, her cheekbone, her forehead where she must have hit the ground despite the helmet protecting her skull. Her right hand was bandaged at the knuckles, more scrapes, more evidence of the impact.

She'd looked small in the hospital bed, which was wrong, was so fundamentally wrong because Jay was tall and took up space and filled rooms with her presence and her energy and her constant motion.

But right now she'd looked diminished somehow, hurt and vulnerable in ways that made Alexia want to wrap her in blankets and never let her leave the apartment again.

But her eyes had been open.

Had been tracking toward the door the moment it opened.

Had landed on Alexia and had immediately, immediately filled with tears.

"Ale," she'd said, and her voice had been rough and strained, hoarse in a way that suggested she'd been crying or maybe screaming or maybe both. "Baby. Oh god, baby, I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I tried to call you. I tried so hard to call you and I couldn't and I knew. I knew you'd be terrified and I couldn't reach you and I'm so sorry."

And that had broken whatever fragile composure Alexia had been desperately clinging to.

She'd crossed the room in four quick strides, had reached the bed and had very carefully, very gently taken Jay's right hand in both of hers, mindful of the bandaged knuckles, mindful of everything that hurt, just needing to touch her, to confirm she was real and solid and here and alive.

The skin of Jay's hand had been warm beneath her fingers. Real. Alive. Present.

Not dead. Not gone. Here.

"You are okay," Alexia had said, and her voice had been shaking so badly the words were barely intelligible, thick with tears and relief and overwhelming emotion. "Dios mío, you are okay. You are here and you are alive and you are…. When the police came to the door I thought. I thought they were going to tell me you were dead. I thought I had lost you and I could not. I could not breathe, I could not think, I was so scared, guapa. I have never been so scared in my entire life."

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry," Jay had said, tears spilling over now, tracking down her bruised cheeks, and she'd tried to reach for Alexia with her left hand before remembering it was immobilised, had made a frustrated sound. "I tried to call you. Right after it happened I tried to find my phone to call you but it was. It was under the bike. The bike landed on it and it was just. It was in pieces. Completely destroyed. I couldn't call you. I asked the paramedics, I asked the people who stopped to help, I begged everyone to please call you, to tell you I was okay, but they had to focus on treating me and then we were in the ambulance and I just. I couldn't reach you and I knew. I knew you'd be calling me and getting nothing and thinking the worst and I couldn't do anything about it."

"I know," Alexia had said, bringing Jay's hand to her lips, pressing kisses to her knuckles carefully, mindfully, trying not to hurt her. "I know you would have. I am not. I am not angry about that. I am angry that this happened at all. I am angry that some fucking idiota turned into you without looking. I am angry that you got hurt. But I am not angry at you. This was not your fault."

"I was being careful," Jay had said, her voice breaking properly now, more tears coming. "I swear I was being careful. I wasn't speeding. I wasn't weaving through traffic. I was doing everything right. There was just. There was a car. They turned left right in front of me and there wasn't enough time. I tried to brake. I tried to swerve. But there just. There wasn't enough space. I hit the side of their car and went over the handlebars and then I was. I was on the ground and I couldn't breathe properly and everything hurt and all I could think about was that I'd promised you I'd be at dinner at seven thirty and I wasn't going to make it."

"The dinner does not matter," Alexia had said fiercely, her grip tightening on Jay's hand. "Nothing matters except that you are alive. That you are here. That I can touch you and see you and you are okay."

"I'm so sorry I scared you. I'm sorry I ruined dinner. I'm sorry I broke my promise about being on time. I'm sorry about all of it."

"Stop apologising," Alexia had said, wiping at her own tears with her free hand while keeping hold of Jay with the other. "You did nothing wrong. You were trying to pick up something for me, sí? The mysterious errand? That is what you were doing when this happened?"

Jay had looked at her for a long moment, and then had glanced toward the small plastic bag sitting on the table beside the bed, the one labelled"Patient Belongings."

"Yeah," she'd said quietly. "Can you grab that bag for me? Please?"

Alexia had let go of Jay's hand reluctantly, had reached for the bag and had brought it to the bed, had held it where Jay could see inside.

"There's something wrapped in paper towel. Can you get it out?"

Alexia had dug through the bag, past Jay's wallet and keys and the remains of her phone which was indeed completely destroyed, just fragments of metal and cracked glass and broken circuit board, until her fingers had found something small and carefully wrapped.

She'd pulled it out, had unwrapped the paper towel with shaking hands.

And had stopped breathing entirely.

It was a necklace.

Delicate gold chain, thin and elegant, clearly expensive, clearly chosen with care.

And hanging from the chain was a small pendant, a simple gold disc maybe the size of a two euro coin, polished to a shine.

On the front, engraved in elegant script, were two letters.

A & J

Alexia had stared at it, her vision blurring with fresh tears, her throat closing up completely.

"Turn it over," Jay had said softly. "Look at the back."

Alexia had flipped the pendant with trembling fingers.

On the back, engraved in the same elegant script, was a date.

Their anniversary. The day they'd made it official. The day that marked the beginning of them as a real couple, as partners, as something permanent.

"I ordered it three weeks ago," Jay had explained, her voice thick with emotion, watching Alexia's face. "Had it custom made. Had them engrave it exactly how I wanted. It was supposed to be ready yesterday but there was a delay with the engraving and they called this morning to say I could pick it up today. And I wanted to give it to you tonight at dinner. Wanted to tell you that this year with you has been the best year of my life. That you're everything to me. That I love you more than I know how to say and I wanted you to have something. Something you could wear that would remind you of us. That would be. Would be permanent. Like us."

Alexia had been crying properly now, tears streaming down her face, her hands shaking so badly she'd almost dropped the necklace.

"This is why you would not tell me about the errand," she'd managed. "This is why you were being secretive. Because you wanted to surprise me. You wanted to give me this at dinner in front of Mami and Alba."

"Yeah. And instead I got hit by a fucking car and scared you half to death and ruined everything. I just wanted to do something nice. Something romantic. And I fucked it all up."

"No," Alexia had said fiercely, carefully setting the necklace on the table so she could take Jay's hand again with both of hers. "No, you did not fuck anything up. You were trying to do something beautiful. Something thoughtful. This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me and you got hurt trying to give it to me and I am. I am so angry that this happened to you and so grateful that you are okay and so in love with you I cannot even. I cannot even find words for how much."

"You're not mad? About the phone being destroyed? About not being able to reach me? About being late? About scaring everyone?"

"I am furious about all of those things," Alexia had admitted, her voice shaking. "I am so angry that your phone was crushed and you could not call me. That I spent an hour thinking terrible things. That I had to find out from police that you were in hospital. I am very very upset about all of that. But I am more relieved that you are alive. That you are here. That I can touch you and see you and you are going to be okay. The anger will probably come later when I am less. When I am less overwhelmed by the fact that you are not dead."

"That's fair," Jay had said, attempting a small smile despite the split lip. "I deserve that. I deserve for you to be angry. I just need you to know I tried. I tried so hard to call you. I asked everyone. The paramedics, the people who stopped to help, the nurses when I got here, anyone who would listen. I kept saying I need to call Alexia, she's going to be so worried, please someone call her and tell her I'm okay. But they were focused on treating me and getting me stable and by the time anyone could make a call you were already on your way here."

"I know. I know you tried. The doctor told me. She said you were trying to get up, trying to find a phone, being very insistent that I needed to know you were alive."

"I was terrified you'd think I was dead. That's all I could think about. That you were somewhere thinking I was dead and I couldn't tell you I wasn't."

Alexia had made a small broken sound, had leaned forward very carefully to press her forehead against Jay's right shoulder, the only part of her that seemed relatively uninjured, just needing to be close, to feel her breathing, to confirm she was real.

"You are not dead," she'd whispered. "You are here. You are alive. That is all that matters. Everything else we can deal with. Injuries will heal. Phones can be replaced. Motorcycles can be fixed or not fixed, I do not care. But you are alive and that is. That is everything."

They'd stayed like that for a long moment, Alexia bent over the hospital bed, Jay's right hand gripping hers tightly, both of them just breathing together, just existing in this moment of relief and love and overwhelming gratitude.

Finally Alexia had straightened up, had wiped at her face, had picked up the necklace again.

"Will you put it on me?" she'd asked quietly. "I want to wear it. I want to wear it right now."

"I can't really. My left arm is kind of out of commission and my right hand is. Is not very coordinated right now."

"Then I will put it on myself. But I want you to see it on me. I want you to see if it looks how you imagined."

Alexia had carefully undone the clasp with shaking fingers, had put the chain around her neck, the small pendant settling just below her collarbone, warm against her skin.

Jay had been looking at her with such open affection, such clear love, her eyes still wet with tears but also soft with something that made Alexia's chest feel too full.

"Perfect," Jay had said softly. "It's perfect. You're perfect. This is exactly what I wanted. You wearing something I chose for you. Something that means something. Something that's us."

"I will never take it off," Alexia had promised, her hand coming up to touch the pendant. "Never. It will stay right here always. As reminder of how much you love me. Of how much I love you. Of this terrible night that ended with you being okay."

"That's very romantic for someone who claims to not be romantic."

"You make me romantic. You make me say things I would not normally say. You make me soft and. And sentimental. You make me into person who cries in hospital rooms and makes promises about jewelry."

"Good. I like you soft and sentimental. Soft Alexia is my favourite Alexia."

There had been a gentle knock at the door and Alexia had turned to see Eli peeking in, her face cautious.

"Can we come in, mija? Or do you need more time?"

"You can come," Alexia had said, stepping back slightly from the bed to make room. "Jay wants to see you. She has been asking for everyone."

Eli had come in first, moving quickly to the other side of the bed, her face crumpling slightly at the sight of Jay's injuries.

"Ay, mija," she'd said, her voice thick. "Look at you. You scared us so much. So so much."

"I'm sorry, Eli," Jay had said, fresh tears appearing because apparently she wasn't done crying yet. "I'm sorry I ruined dinner. I'm sorry I was late. I'm sorry I scared everyone."

"The dinner does not matter," Eli had said firmly, reaching out to very gently touch Jay's uninjured cheek. "You matter. You being alive matters. The food can wait. Everything can wait. You are what is important."

Alba had appeared in the doorway, had taken one look at Jay and had immediately started crying, which was unusual because Alba didn't cry easily, didn't show emotion like that normally.

"Joder," she'd said, wiping at her eyes. "You look terrible. You look like you got hit by a car. Which. Which I guess you did. Mierda, Jay."

"I know. I'm a mess. Sorry for making you worry. I know you don't worry about things usually."

"I had a bad feeling," Alba had said, coming to stand near the foot of the bed. "Like a really bad feeling. From the moment you were late. I knew something was wrong. That never happens to me but tonight I just. I knew."

"I had the same feeling," Alexia had said quietly. "We both knew. We both felt that something terrible had happened even before the police came."

Julia and Clara had appeared in the doorway then, both of them stopping short at the sight of Jay, their faces going through rapid expressions of shock and relief and love.

"Oh, Carino," Julia had said, moving to the bed, her professional composure cracking completely. "Oh, my girl. Look at you."

"Hi Jules” Jay had said, her voice breaking again. "Sorry for all of this. Sorry for being dramatic."

"You were hit by a car," Julia had said, her voice fierce. "You are allowed to be dramatic. You are allowed to be hurt and scared and whatever else you need to be. Do not apologise for nearly dying."

"I wasn't nearly dying. I was just. Just moderately injured."

"Your phone was crushed to pieces," Julia had pointed out. "That suggests the impact was significant. That suggests you absolutely could have been much more seriously hurt. So yes. Nearly dying. Do not argue with me."

Clara had moved to stand next to Julia, her therapist face firmly in place but her eyes wet with unshed tears.

"How are you feeling, Jay? Physically and emotionally?"

"Physically I feel like I got hit by a car. Everything hurts. The shoulder is the worst, it's like. It's throbbing constantly even with the pain meds. And the road rash burns. Like I can feel every spot where my skin hit the pavement. Emotionally I'm a mess. I'm upset about scaring Alexia. I'm upset about ruining dinner. I'm upset about destroying my phone and my bike and just everything."

"Those are all very normal reactions," Clara had said gently. "You've been through a traumatic event. You're allowed to have big feelings about it."

"I just wanted to give Alexia a necklace," Jay had said, and she'd sounded so young, so lost. "I just wanted to do something nice and romantic and instead I ended up in hospital and scared everyone and ruined everything."

"You did not ruin anything," Alexia had said firmly, moving back to Jay's side, taking her hand again. "You got hurt doing something thoughtful. That is not the same as ruining things. And look." She'd touched the pendant at her throat. "I have the necklace. I am wearing it. It is beautiful and perfect and I love it and I love you and that is what matters."

"What necklace?" Eli had asked, leaning closer to see.

"Jay had it made," Alexia had explained, holding the pendant out slightly so everyone could see. "Custom engraved. Our initials on the front and our anniversary date on the back. That was the errand. That is what she was picking up when the accident happened."

"Oh, Jay," Julia had said, her voice soft. "That's beautiful. That's so thoughtful."

"I wanted her to have something special," Jay had said. "Wanted her to have something that was. That was permanent. That would remind her of us."

"It is very romantic," Alba had said, wiping at her eyes again. "Very. Very you. Getting hit by a car trying to buy romantic jewellery for your girlfriend. That is extremely on brand for you."

"I wasn't trying to get hit by a car."

"No but you were trying to be romantic and you somehow turned it into a dramatic hospital situation. Which is very Jay."

Despite everything, Jay had smiled slightly at that, had seemed to appreciate Alba's attempt at normalcy, at humour in the midst of crisis.

They'd all stayed for a while, talking quietly, Julia asking practical questions about recovery time and follow up appointments, Clara gently checking in on Jay's emotional state, Eli fussing about whether Jay was comfortable and warm enough and did she need more pillows.

Eventually a nurse had come in, had checked Jay's vitals, had adjusted her IV, had gently suggested that maybe Jay needed rest, that visitors could come back tomorrow.

"I want Alexia to stay," Jay had said immediately, her good hand gripping Alexia's tighter. "Please. I don't want to be alone."

"We're keeping you overnight for observation because of the possible concussion," the nurse had explained kindly. "But visiting hours are over soon. Your girlfriend can stay a bit longer but eventually she'll need to go home and let you rest."

"No," Jay had said, and there'd been real panic in her voice now. "No, please. Please let her stay. I need. I need her here. Please."

"It is okay, guapa," Alexia had said gently, stroking her thumb across Jay's knuckles. "I will stay as long as they let me. And then I will come back first thing in the morning. Before you are even awake probably. I will be here."

"Promise?"

"I promise. I will be here when you wake up. I will not leave you alone for long."

The others had said their goodbyes, had promised to come back tomorrow, had told Jay to rest and heal and not worry about anything.

Julia had kissed Jay's forehead gently, mindful of the bruises. "I'll handle everything with the club, with the insurance, with all of it. You just focus on healing."

"Thank you, Jules. For everything. For being here."

"Where else would I be? You're my girl. Have been since you were barely more than a kid. I'm not going anywhere."

Clara had squeezed Jay's hand carefully. "We'll talk more tomorrow when you're feeling better. But for now just let yourself feel whatever you're feeling. Don't try to be brave or tough. Just be honest about what you need."

"I need Alexia," Jay had said simply. "That's all I need. Just her."

"You have her," Clara had said, smiling. "You very clearly have her."

After everyone had left, it had been just the two of them again, the hospital room quiet except for the beeping of monitors and the distant sounds of the emergency department beyond the door.

Alexia had pulled the chair as close to the bed as it would go, had sat down and had taken Jay's hand again, had just held it, needing the contact.

"Thank you for being here," Jay had said quietly. "I know this is. This is not how you wanted to spend your Thursday evening. Sitting in a hospital with your injured girlfriend instead of having nice family dinner."

"There is nowhere else I would rather be," Alexia had said honestly. "Well… I would rather be anywhere where you are not hurt. But if you are hurt then I want to be exactly here. With you. Making sure you are okay."

"I love you. So much. More than I can properly express."

"I love you too, guapa. More than anything. You scared me tonight. You scared me so badly I thought. I thought my heart might actually stop from fear. Please do not do that again."

"I'll try my best. Can't really control what other drivers do though."

"Then maybe. Maybe no more motorcycle for a while?"

Jay had been quiet for a moment, considering.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. No more motorcycle. At least not for a long time. I don't think I could get back on it right now anyway. Too scary. Too aware of what can happen."

"Good. That is good. I am glad. Because I cannot go through this again. Tonight was the worst night of my life and I do not want to repeat it."

"Me neither. Zero stars. Would not recommend getting hit by a car. Very painful. Very scary. Very much do not want to do again."

Alexia had smiled despite herself, had felt some of the terrible tension in her chest ease slightly at Jay's attempt at humour, at her ability to joke even while obviously in pain and traumatised.

Eventually the nurse had come back, had been kind but firm about Alexia needing to leave so Jay could rest.

Alexia had stood reluctantly, had leaned over the bed very carefully to kiss Jay's forehead, avoiding all the cuts and bruises, just pressing her lips gently to the one spot that looked relatively undamaged.

"I will be back in the morning," she'd promised. "First thing. Before you wake up. I will be here."

"Okay. I love you. Thank you for. For not being too angry with me."

"I am not angry with you. I am angry at the situation. At the driver who hit you. At the universe for letting this happen. But not at you. Never at you."

"I love you."

"I love you too. Sleep now. Heal. I will see you in the morning."

And Alexia had walked out of the hospital room, out through the emergency department that was still busy with late night emergencies, out into the Barcelona night where Eli and Alba were waiting by the car.

Had finally, finally let herself break down completely, had sobbed into her mother's shoulder in the hospital car park, all the fear and relief and overwhelming emotion of the evening pouring out now that Jay couldn't see, now that she didn't have to be strong.

Had cried until she'd exhausted herself, until there was nothing left except bone deep relief that Jay was alive, was okay, was going to heal.

And the small gold necklace around her neck, warm against her skin, a reminder of love and promises and the fact that sometimes the worst nights could end with the most important realizations about what really mattered.

Which was this. This exactly. The person you loved being alive and safe and healing.

Everything else was just details.

Alexia had barely slept.

Had gone home with Eli and Alba around eleven, had let her mother tuck her into her childhood bed like she was small again, had stared at the ceiling for hours while her brain replayed the entire evening on an endless loop.

The police at the door. The terrible certainty that something was wrong. The words "there's been an accident" and the panic that had followed. The relief when they'd said Jay was alive. The hospital. Jay's bruised and battered face. The necklace.

Had finally fallen into fitful sleep sometime around three, had woken at five thirty with her heart racing, immediately reaching for her phone to check the time, to calculate how soon she could reasonably go back to the hospital.

Had given up on sleep entirely at six, had showered and dressed in the dark, had left Eli's house while it was still quiet, the sun just starting to think about rising.

Had driven through empty Barcelona streets, the city still sleeping, the morning air cool and fresh through the slightly open car window.

Had arrived at the hospital at six forty, had parked in the nearly empty lot, had walked through the main entrance instead of the emergency department this time, following the signs to the ward where they'd moved Jay overnight.

The nurse at the station had recognised her from last night, had smiled sympathetically.

"You are early. Visiting hours do not start until eight."

"I know. I am sorry. But I promised her I would be here when she woke up. I promised her she would not be alone. Please. Can I just sit with her? I will be quiet. I will not disturb her. Please."

The nurse had looked at her for a long moment, had seemed to read something in Alexia's face, in her desperation, in the circles under her eyes that suggested she hadn't slept.

"Room 347. Third floor. She was awake about an hour ago when we did vitals check. Could not sleep, she said. Too uncomfortable. We gave her more pain medication. She might be sleeping now. But you can sit with her if you are quiet."

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

Alexia had taken the elevator to the third floor, had followed the room numbers down the corridor, had found 347 and had pushed the door open as quietly as possible.

The room had been dim, just the early morning light filtering through the partially closed blinds, painting everything in shades of grey and pale gold.

Jay had been in the hospital bed, still propped up at that slight angle, her left arm still immobilised in the sling, her right arm still bandaged, IV line still connected to her hand.

And she'd been awake.

Had been staring at the ceiling with red rimmed eyes that suggested she'd been crying, her face even more bruised than last night, the colours darker and more dramatic in the pale morning light.

Her head had turned when the door opened, and when she'd seen Alexia her entire face had crumpled.

"You came," she'd said, her voice breaking immediately. "You actually came back. I was worried you wouldn't. That you'd decide I wasn't worth. That last night you'd think about everything and decide I was too much trouble and you wouldn't come back."

"Oh, guapa," Alexia had said, crossing the room quickly, her bag dropping to the floor forgotten as she reached the bed. "Of course I came back. I promised you I would be here. Did you really think I would not come?"

"I don't know. My brain isn't working right. Everything feels scary and uncertain and I just. I've been lying here since four in the morning thinking terrible things."

Alexia had very carefully sat on the edge of the bed, mindful of all of Jay's injuries, and had reached out to cup Jay's face with both hands, gentle around the bruises, her thumbs stroking across her cheekbones.

"I am here," she'd said firmly. "I will always be here. You getting hurt does not change that. You being in hospital does not change that. Nothing changes that. You understand? You are not too much trouble. You are not a burden. You are the person I love most in the world and I am exactly where I want to be."

Jay had made a small broken sound, and then she'd been crying properly, tears streaming down her bruised face, and Alexia had very carefully gathered her as close as she could manage given the injuries, one arm around her shoulders, the other hand still cupping her face.

"Shh, está bien, está bien," Alexia had murmured, pressing soft kisses to Jay's temple, her forehead, anywhere she could reach that wasn't scraped or bruised. "I am here. You are safe. You are going to be okay. I have you."

"Everything hurts," Jay had sobbed against Alexia's shoulder. "Everything hurts so much and I'm so tired but I can't sleep properly because every time I move something pulls or aches and the shoulder is. The shoulder is so painful even with the medication and I just want to go home. I want to be in our bed. I want to be somewhere that doesn't smell like hospital."

"I know, amor. I know. But they need to keep you today to make sure the concussion is okay. To make sure nothing develops. And then tomorrow we can go home. Tomorrow I will take you home and put you in our bed and take care of you and you can heal properly."

"You'll stay today? You won't leave?"

"I will stay as long as they let me. I will only leave if they force me to leave. And even then I will not go far. I will be right outside. You will not be alone for long. I promise."

Jay had nodded against her shoulder, had kept crying quietly while Alexia held her and stroked her hair and pressed gentle kisses to her temple.

They'd stayed like that for a long time, Alexia sitting on the edge of the bed, Jay curled into her as much as her injuries would allow, both of them just breathing together, finding comfort in proximity.

Finally Jay's tears had slowed, had tapered off into occasional hitching breaths, and she'd pulled back slightly to look at Alexia's face.

"You look tired. Did you sleep?"

"Not much. Maybe two hours. I kept thinking about you here alone and scared and I could not settle."

"You should have slept. You need to take care of yourself."

"I will sleep when you sleep. When you are home and safe and healing. Then I will sleep."

Jay had reached up with her good hand, had very gently touched the necklace at Alexia's throat, the small gold pendant that had been the cause of all of this.

"You're really wearing it. I thought maybe when you got home you'd. I don't know. Decide it was stupid or cursed or something."

"It is not stupid. It is beautiful. It is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me." Alexia had covered Jay's hand with her own, had held it against the pendant. "And it is not cursed. The accident was not because of the necklace. The accident was because some driver was not paying attention. That is not the necklace's fault."

"I still feel like I ruined it somehow. Like now when you look at it you'll just think about me in hospital instead of thinking about. About us. About what it means."

"When I look at it I will think about how much you love me," Alexia had said firmly. "I will think about the fact that you were trying to do something romantic and thoughtful. I will think about our anniversary and how lucky I am to have you. That is what I will think. Not the hospital. Not the accident. Just how much we love each other."

"You're sure?"

"I am completely sure. I love it. I love you. And I will wear this every single day for the rest of my life probably."

Jay had smiled then, small and pained but genuine, and had leaned forward to press her forehead against Alexia's very gently.

"I'm sorry I scared you so badly last night."

"I know. But you are okay now. That is what matters. You are here and you are healing and we are together."

"Kiss me?" Jay had asked quietly. "Please? I know my lip is split and my face is a mess but I just. I really need you to kiss me right now."

"I will be careful," Alexia had promised, and had leaned in very slowly, very gently, pressing her lips to Jay's with the lightest pressure, mindful of the split lip, the bruises, everything that hurt.

But Jay had made a small sound, had pressed closer despite the pain, had kissed her back with more intensity than Alexia had expected, like she needed this, needed the connection, needed the confirmation that they were okay, that this was still them.

When they'd separated, both breathing slightly harder, Jay's eyes had been wet again but she'd been smiling.

"I love you so much. Thank you for being here. Thank you for not being angry about all of this."

"I told you last night, I am not angry with you. I am angry at the situation but not at you."

"You're allowed to be angry with me too though. I know I promised to be careful and I was but. But I still ended up here. And that's. That must be frustrating for you."

"It is terrifying for me," Alexia had corrected. "Not frustrating. Terrifying. Because I love you so much and the thought of losing you is. Is not something I can process. Is not something I want to even think about. So yes, I am upset that this happened. But I am not angry with you specifically. You did nothing wrong bebe except have the bad luck to be on the road at the same time as an idiota who does not know how to drive."

Jay had laughed slightly at that, then winced as the movement had clearly hurt her ribs.

"Don't make me laugh. Laughing hurts everything."

"Then I will be very serious. No jokes. Only serious declarations of love and concern."

"That sounds boring."

"Too bad. You are injured. You do not get to decide what is boring. I am in charge now. And I say we are being serious and careful and you are resting."

"Yes, captain," Jay had said, but she'd been smiling, had seemed lighter somehow, less scared, less alone.

They'd settled into a more comfortable position, Alexia still sitting on the edge of the bed but shifted so she could hold Jay's good hand, their fingers laced together, both of them just existing in this quiet morning moment.

"Did you tell the club?" Jay had asked after a while. "Do they know what happened?"

"Julia said she would handle it. She was going to call them this morning. Tell them you will be out for a while. That you need time to heal."

"They're going to be so annoyed. We have that match against Real Madrid next week. Jonatan is going to be furious that I'm missing it."

"Jonatan will understand. You were hit by a car. That is acceptable reason to miss match. Even against Madrid."

"I guess. I just hate letting the team down."

"You are not letting anyone down guapa. You are healing from being hit by a car. That is not the same thing as letting people down."

"My brain knows that. But the anxious part of my brain that thinks everything is my fault is having trouble believing it."

"Then I will remind you as many times as necessary. You are not at fault. You are not letting anyone down. You are doing exactly what you need to do which is heal."

Jay had squeezed her hand, had brought their joined hands to her lips to press a kiss to Alexia's knuckles.

"What did I do to deserve you? Like. Genuinely. What did I do in a past life to get this lucky?"

"You exist. That is all. You exist and you are you and I love you for exactly who you are."

"That's very romantic for someone who claims to not be naturally romantic."

"You make me romantic. This is your fault. You have infected me with your romanticism. I am suffering from romantic contamination."

Jay had laughed again, then winced again, then had given Alexia a mock stern look.

"Stop making me laugh. You said we were being serious."

"I changed my mind. I like making you laugh. Even if it hurts you slightly. Your laugh is my favourite sound."

"You're terrible. You're the worst. I'm injured and you're making me laugh which hurts and you don't even care."

"I care very much. I care so much I am going to keep doing it because your smile is worth you being slightly uncomfortable for two seconds."

"I hate you."

"You love me."

"I really do. So much. Annoyingly much. Inconveniently much."

"Good. Because I love you the same amount. Possibly more. It is probably a competition at this point. Who loves who more."

"I think I win actually. Because I got hit by a car trying to buy you jewellery. That's pretty definitive proof of love."

"That is not how love competitions work. That is just proof that you have bad timing and worse luck."

"Rude. I'm injured. You're supposed to be nice to me."

"I am being nice. I am here at seven in the morning when I should be sleeping. That is very nice. That is extremely nice actually."

"That's true. You're the nicest. The best. My favourite person."

"I better be your favourite person. I am your girlfriend. If I am not your favourite person we have problems."

Jay had smiled, had tugged on Alexia's hand to pull her closer, and Alexia had leaned in to kiss her again, still gentle, still careful, but with more warmth this time, more affection.

When they'd separated, Jay had rested her head against Alexia's shoulder, had closed her eyes, had seemed to finally relax for the first time since Alexia had arrived.

"Thank you," she'd murmured. "For being here. For being you. For loving me even when I'm a disaster."

"You are my disaster," Alexia had said, echoing what Jay had said to her in the training ground car park what felt like a lifetime ago but had only been yesterday. "My beautiful chaotic disaster who I love more than anything."

"I'm going to try to sleep. The pain meds are starting to kick in properly. Will you stay? Even if I fall asleep?"

"I will stay. I will be right here. I am not going anywhere."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Sleep, guapa. I have you."

And Jay had closed her eyes, had let herself drift off still holding Alexia's hand, still leaning against her shoulder, finally feeling safe enough to rest.

Alexia had sat there watching her sleep, had catalogued every bruise on her face, every cut, every sign of the impact, and had felt overwhelming gratitude that it hadn't been worse, that Jay was here and alive and healing.

Had touched the necklace at her throat, had felt the weight of it, the meaning of it.

Had understood in that moment that this was it. This was her person. The person she wanted to build a life with. The person she wanted to wake up next to every morning. The person she wanted to grow old with.

And had known with absolute certainty that no matter what happened, no matter what challenges came, they would face them together.

Because this. This right here. This was love.

Messy and imperfect and sometimes terrifying.

But real. And worth everything.

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