#the meadema nest

[meadematales]

~Where It Hurts~

The path to us - chapter 1 ➡️Masterlist

--August 12, 2022--

The chill of a London morning settled over the damp asphalt of the Arsenal training ground. It was the first day of pre-season. Grey clouds hung low over the pitches, heavy and unmoving.

Viv stepped out of her car with the kind of precision that spoke of avoidance. Every movement was deliberate. Her hood was still pulled over her head, even though the rain had stopped half an hour ago. A small sports bag hung from her hand. Her strides were long and confident.

She walked toward the entrance without hesitation, her breath even, calculated. No nervous fidgeting. No slowing down. This was her club. Her home turf. But today, it felt unfamiliar. A bit like a childhood street you haven’t walked in years. The familiar lights and sounds were still there, but it felt different.

At the entrance, Renée, the head coach, nodded at her. Her expression was kind but reserved, as if she understood that too much warmth might feel like intrusion.

“Good to have you back, Viv,” she said simply.

Viv gave a curt nod. “Yeah.” Her voice came out rough, like it hadn’t been used much lately.

Inside the changing room, it was quiet. Most of the squad was already on the field. A few players lingered, lacing boots, adjusting tape, speaking in low voices that stopped when she entered. Viv nodded at a couple of them. Lia offered a small smile, warm but not pushy. Like someone trying to hand you a cup of tea without asking if you’re okay. Viv appreciated the effort, even if she couldn’t return it.

She changed quickly. Training kit on, boots tied. Her eyes fixed on the floor just past her toes, not quite present. The bench beside her was empty, but her memory filled it anyway. That spot used to be taken. Jokes. Laughter. Loud playlists and the crinkle of Haribo packets. It was her safe space. Now, only silence. No one next to her. That spot next to her had belonged to Lisa, her ex-girlfriend. Her transfer to West Ham, barely a month old. The breakup was even fresher. Sixteen days to be precise. Viv inhaled slowly through her nose. Exhaled. This empty spot next to her remembered her of Lisa. It was too fresh to pretend it did nothing to her.

The last few months had already started to feel different, though Viv hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time. Lisa had grown quieter, more distant in ways that were hard to name but impossible to ignore. The little rituals—post-match milkshakes, shared playlists on the bus, forehead kisses before bed—had faded, replaced by vague excuses and tired silences. Viv kept brushing it off, telling herself it was just the stress of the season, the uncertainty of transfer rumours. But looking back, the signs had been there. A slow, quiet unravelling. Like standing on a frozen lake and only realizing the cracks when it’s too late to turn back.

A sudden whistle pierced through her thoughts, sharp and commanding. “Training in 5 minutes everyone!” one of the coaches called. The shuffle of boots on tile, the rise in chatter, the click of lockers. Viv blinked and looked up. The session was about to start.

Minutes later, she walked onto the pitch, silent and stiff-backed. She skipped the warm-up instructions, diving straight into shuttle runs, pushing harder than necessary. Her legs burned, but she welcomed it. The heat, the effort. It dulled the rest. This was exactly what she needed to get out of her mind.

On the far side of the field, just past the cones and bibs, sat a buggy. A soft babbling sound carried across the wind, too quiet to make out, but rhythmic. A toddler voice, half-language, half-music. The child was playing with a stuffed elephant, waving it like a wand. Beside the buggy stood Beth, jacket slung over one shoulder, blonde hair tied into a messy ponytail, calm in the kind of way only people who had made peace with chaos could be. Her gaze drifted toward Viv, lingering, curious. Not judging, just watching. Viv saw her looking and turned away. She didn’t like people watching her. Especially not people who looked like they knew something she didn’t. And that was just the way Beth looked at her. Beth kept looking at her. Viv felt it, even as she had turned away.

She had nothing in common with Beth. Yes, there was one thing, they were both single. Although that was still too painful for Viv to really admit. Viv did not have a child. Viv's character was the complete opposite of Beth's. Viv is quiet, introverted, serious and a bit awkward. Beth is exuberant, a chatterbox and a joker. She respects Beth, for how she does this — raising a child —all by herself, but the way she felt Beth looking at her felt weird. Why would she looking at her like that?

Somewhere in the background, Alfie laughed, high, unfiltered joy, and for the first time that day, something in Viv shifted. Only slightly. But then, Renée blew the whistle, and immediately Viv felt exactly as she had been feeling all morning —or actually, how she has been feeling the last few weeks— a vague feeling filled with frustration and sadness.

Sprints. Cone work. Passing drills. Viv gave everything she had. She felt the need to by physically exhausted. She didn’t need this training session for football reasons, she needed the punishment of it. Where her teammates joked between stretches and drills, Viv kept her eyes low and her pace high. Every touch of the ball was precise. Her shots were almost aggressive. They were the kind of shots that warned others to keep their distance.

From the sideline, Leah shot a glance at Beth, eyebrows raised. Beth gave a slight shrug in return, but her gaze didn’t shift from Viv. Her eyes hadn’t left Viv since before Renée blew the whistle. There was something magical about the way she moved. Not in a graceful way, but as if someone was running away from something.

Before joining the training session, Beth bent to tighten Alfie’s in the buggy. He was munching on half a banana, watching the players run across the pitch like it was the best cartoon he’d ever seen. Occasionally, he squealed when someone kicked a ball too hard. Viv didn’t notice. She was in her own world, fighting her feelings.

A few minutes later, during a passing drill, she turned a ball too fast and accidentally clipped Katie’s ankle.

“Easy, Viv,” Katie muttered, limping slightly.

Viv didn’t respond. She reset the ball and passed again. Cleaner this time, but still with too much force.

Renée whistled the drill to a close. “Water break. Breathe, people.”

Viv walked off to the edge of the field, not toward the team’s circle. She leaned against the fence, bottle in hand, gaze unfocused. She didn’t notice Alfie’s buggy standing next to her. Beth looked over from the team circle and saw Alfie reaching out for Viv. She didn’t say anything, she just approached them. Again, Alfie stretched his arms toward Viv, his little banana-covered fingers reaching out.

When Beth arrived, she chuckled “He’s obsessed with legs lately. Yours are probably winning.”

Viv looked over and gave Alfie a smile. Alfie giggled at the interaction. Then, something like amusement flickered in Viv’s expression.

“I don’t usually score with toddlers” she said dryly.

Beth laughed, the sound light but edged with something unreadable.

“He’s got good taste,” she said, brushing a crumb from Alfie’s cheek.

Viv shifted her weight, her smile softening as she looked at the two of them. Then Viv straightened, eyes back on the pitch. “Well, tell him I’m flattered,” she added, tone breezy, but her hands had curled into the sleeves of her jacket.

A silence fell, not awkward, but unsure. Two people hovering near a line neither of them had drawn yet. Viv’s gaze dropped to Alfie again. He grinned at her through banana cheeks and kicked his feet against the buggy bar.

“Cute.” Viv murmured.

Beth tilted her head. “You sound surprised.”

“I’m not around kids much.”  Viv responded.

“Well... he loves attention, you better get used to it.”

Viv huffed a quiet laugh.

Then the whistle blew again, cutting the moment short. She turned back toward the pitch. Beth called softly after her, “Ease into it. You will sort it out, everything will be okay.”

Viv didn’t respond, but she did look back over her shoulder. Just for a second, and somehow the rest of the training session felt lighter, more free.

---

The canteen was bustling with post-training chatter as the squad filled up their water bottles, grabbed snacks, and swapped stories of the day’s drills. The usual clinking of plates and cups echoed through the room -but today, Viv’s presence felt more like a ripple in the background than a part of the noise.

She stood at the counter, eyes scanning the array of snacks, but none of it seemed appealing. The fact that she was here at all felt like the first strange choice of the day. Her hand hovered over the granola bar section, but she couldn’t bring herself to grab anything.

She could feel the pull of her thoughts -the swirling, unfinished conversations that hadn’t been had. She hadn’t been able to talk to anyone properly to someone after the breakup with Lisa. Lisa was now her ex. That fact had not yet landed with Viv. Before the summer break she was always near Lisa. Even at the club they were always together. In the canteen they chatted with teammates and had the greatest fun. The teammates are still there, but Lisa isn’t.

The laughter at the lunch table still sounded the same, but it didn’t reach her the way it used to. Every corner of the club held some echo of Lisa —her voice in the gym, her footsteps in the hallway, her name tag was still hanging in the dressing room. Viv kept her head bowed, sat down at an empty table, and pretended not to notice all the empty spaces next to her.

Then, a small, distant voice broke through the whirlwind of her thoughts.

“Cookie!”

Alfie’s delighted shout echoed from across the room.

“Cookie!”

Viv looked up sharply as Alfie’s voice came closer.

Beth was now standing at the end of her table, trying to balance a steaming cup of coffee in one hand while holding Alfie in her other arm. He was wriggling, eating his cookie. His little face lit up with excitement at seeing Viv.

"Hey, Viv," Beth said with a soft, almost apologetic smile, as if she hadn't expected the way Viv looked up after hearing Alfie's voice.

Viv blinked, unsure of what to say. But before she could open her mouth Alfie saw an opportunity and wriggled free of Beth’s grasp. Beth let him on the floor and Alfie stood up. He toddled directly toward Viv, with the determination only a one-year-old could have. He took three wobbly steps before losing his balance and tumbled gently onto the floor.

Beth winced but didn’t move to pick him up right away.

Viv was surprised but instinctively knelt down and reached out her hands just in time to catch Alfie’s small body. He blinked up at her, his eyes wide with curiosity, and then smiled —a gummy, half toothless grin that could melt glaciers.

“Oi,” Beth called out gently, “you okay?”

Viv didn’t answer right away. She just held Alfie for a moment, letting the tiny weight of him settle against her chest. Something about this -the softness of it, the unexpectedness- caught her off guard.

“I think he’s okay,” Viv muttered, half to herself. She helped Alfie back up, brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes. “But you might need a few lessons in balance.”

Alfie giggled, his arms still stretched out toward her. His tiny hands grabbed at the sleeve of Viv’s jacket, tugging gently as if he were claiming his territory.

Beth chuckled from behind them. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said with a smile. “He’s got a mind of his own and he loves attention.”

Viv glanced up at Beth, meeting her eyes for the first time in the canteen. There was a softness there, an openness. No judgment. Just warmth.

“He’s...” Viv started “He’s... different, cute.”

Beth raised an eyebrow. “You mean like.. not a robot?”

Viv let out a small, genuine laugh. “Yeah. I’m used to things making sense - straight lines, clean corners. He’s not that.”

Beth stepped a little closer, still cradling the coffee cup in her hands. “Most of life isn’t straight lines,” she said gently.

Viv wasn’t sure how to respond to that. So, instead, she simply nodded, feeling the soft weight of Alfie tugging on her sleeve.

Another beat of silence passed before Beth spoke again, her voice a little quieter. “If you want to grab a coffee sometime, just to talk or whatever... I’m usually around.”

Viv hesitated for a moment. But something in the way Beth offered it so casually, like it wasn’t some forced invitation, made Viv pause.

“I might take you up on that,” Viv said, her voice quieter than usual.

Beth smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. “No pressure. But if you ever need a second pair of ears, I’m good at listening.”

Viv caught herself. The urge to close up, to push the offer away. But instead, she found herself staying still.  

“Maybe we can talk about... football,” Viv said, the first part of her sentence much easier than the rest. She wanted to say something else, but she just couldn’t.  “I haven’t physically been able to talk about much else. It all hurts like hell.”

Beth nodded, that same gentle smile on her lips. “I get that.”

With Alfie now satisfied, he let go of Viv’s sleeve and gave a little yawn, rubbing his eyes. Beth chuckled softly, her gaze shifting to Viv. “He’s getting sleepy. I should probably take him home soon.”

Viv watched as Beth gently scooped Alfie up into her arms again. He didn’t protest, just snuggled into her, trusting and at ease.

Beth paused, meeting Viv’s eyes one last time. “I’ll see you at training tomorrow.”

Viv gave a small nod in return. “Yeah. See you then.”

--The next day, after training--

The sun was dipping behind the training centre windows by the time the session ended. The usual buzz of post-practice chatter filled the locker room, a playlist echoing from Leah’s phone, the hiss of showers turning on, boots thudding against benches.

Viv sat alone at the far end, back against the cold metal of her locker. Her hair was still damp, tied into a messy knot. She hadn’t changed out of her base layer yet. Her kit bag lay open by her feet, half-zipped, like she’d started packing and forgotten to finish.

Everyone else had drifted into easy conversation —inside jokes, weekend plans, talk of upcoming matches. She could hear snippets. But she wasn’t listening. Her fingers tapped restlessly against the water bottle in her lap. One, two, three. The rhythm of someone trying not to think.

She didn’t hear Beth until she sat down two lockers away. Not too close, not too far. Just near enough to be a presence. Viv glanced over, her body tense, like a deer clocking a movement in the woods. Beth didn’t say anything right away. She just bent to untie her boots, slow and methodical.

Alfie was with the physio staff now, happily being bribed with crackers and a plush lion. Beth had warned them. He'd try to reorganize every roll of tape in alphabetical order —or what he believed was alphabetical order, which mostly involved animal sounds.

Viv’s eyes drifted back down to the floor.

Beth finally spoke, her tone casual but quiet.

“You looked good out there today. Sharp.”

Viv let out a breath. “Too sharp. I nearly took Leah out.”

“Eh, she’ll live. Might even thank you for the edge.”

Silence again.

But Beth wasn’t really waiting for a response. She was just there. Like an open door no one was asking Viv to walk through, but one that didn’t slam shut when she didn’t.

Viv’s voice was low when she finally said, “I hate being this disconnected.”

Beth looked over. “From the team?”

Viv shook her head. “From myself.”

Beth didn’t flinch at that. She nodded, as if that wasn’t something too heavy for a locker room at 4 p.m. on a Thursday.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “That’s a brutal kind of silence.”

Viv turned her head slightly, eyes tired. “You know it?”

Beth nodded. “More than I’d like to admit.”

She didn’t elaborate. Didn’t need to. The tiredness in her eyes said enough. Sleepless nights, solo parenting, the sudden left turn life can take without asking for permission.

Viv looked at her for a moment, “It’s weird,” she said. “Being surrounded by people... and still feeling like you’re nowhere.”

Beth gave a small, sad smile. “It’s not weird. It’s grief.”

Viv blinked. “I didn’t say I was grieving—”

“You didn’t have to. I can hear it in the way you talk. I can see it.”

Viv’s shoulders dropped a little. That word —grief— hung in the air like a fog. It wasn’t just about losing Lisa. It was about losing the rhythm of their days, the comfort of what used to be normal. It was the ache of a future that suddenly looked different. A version of herself that no longer existed.

Neither of them said anything for a long moment.

Then, Beth reached into her bag and pulled out a half-eaten protein bar. She tore it in two and offered half to Viv.

Viv stared at it.

Beth shrugged. “It’s not therapy, but it’s peanut butter and it’s not terrible.”

Viv hesitated. Then, slowly, she took it.

Beth didn’t push. She just leaned back against her locker, her head resting on the cool metal, eyes closing for a brief second. Viv watched her for a moment, then did the same. For the first time in a long while, the quiet didn’t feel quite so loud.

---

Viv turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open to her flat. It was quiet, the kind of quiet that used to feel like peace, but lately felt like absence.

The faint sound of her footsteps echoed against hardwood as she kicked off her trainers and dropped her kit bag by the door. The lights stayed off for a moment. She stood there, coat still on, the low hum of the fridge the only noise.

Finally, she flicked on a lamp. Soft, yellow light spilled into the living room.

Viv peeled off her hoodie and sank onto the couch, resting her head back. She exhaled slowly, as if letting out something she’d been holding in since the moment she got up that morning.

She grabbed the remote. Scrolled aimlessly through the home screen. Football highlights. A documentary she’d watched twice. A baking show she never quite got into. Nothing felt right.

She turned the TV off again.

Instead, she got up and walked to the kitchen. Filled the kettle. Waited for the water to boil like it might reveal an answer. The silence wrapped around her again.

Her thoughts drifted to Beth. To the way Beth had sat beside her in the locker room. Not pushing her, just being there. To the way that peanut butter protein bar tasted a little more real than anything else lately.

She poured the tea, let it steep, then walked back to the couch and curled her legs beneath her.

Her phone buzzed once on the table. A text.

From Beth: “Alfie says thanks for yesterday, for catching him before he could fully fall. He insists you’re his new best mate. No pressure.”

Viv stared at the screen.

Then, her thumb hovered and tapped out a reply.

To Beth: “Tell him I’ve never had a better mate.”

She hit send before she could second-guess herself. Then set the phone down. She smiled, just barely. But there was a smile, a real one.

[meadematales]

~Coaching, Connection, and Something More~

The path to us - chapter 3 ➡️Masterlist

--September 28, 2022--

It was an ordinary morning after an intense training session. The sun shone brightly through the windows of the Arsenal locker room, and most of the players had packed up and were on their way home. The sound of football boots scraping against the hard floor was the only noise left. Beth, who had just packed her last few items into her bag, felt tired but satisfied. She was ready to go home, take care of Alfie, and prepare for the next session.

Just as she was about to open the door to the locker room, she heard Renée’s familiar voice behind her.

“Beth, Viv, can I speak to you for a minute?” Renée’s tone was friendly, but there was an urgency in her voice.

Beth turned around, Viv already standing beside her. The two hadn’t spoken much during the session, but the exhaustion from the workout was evident. Viv sighed softly and walked over to Renée, her hands casually tucked into the pockets of her training pants.

“What’s up, coach?” Viv asked, her voice a little calmer than usual.

Renée smiled, but there was something thoughtful in her gaze. “I have an idea, and I’d like to ask for your help. One of the youth teams could really use some extra coaching, and I thought it might be a good opportunity for you two to lead a training session for the younger girls. Your experience could really inspire them.”

Beth and Viv exchanged a quick glance. Beth shrugged. “A youth training session?” she said, a little surprised. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind for this week.”

Renée smiled broadly. “I know it might not be the first thing you’d think of, but I believe you two are the perfect people for this. The girls look up to you, and I think it’d be a great chance for you to pass on your knowledge and experience.”

Viv blinked a few times, not immediately convinced. “You mean… a whole training session for a group of teenagers? Together? You do realize we have very different styles, right?”

Renée chuckled lightly, clearly understanding their concern. “That’s true. But that’s exactly why I think it’ll work. You two complement each other well. I want to see how you work together. And it’d be great for the girls to see that even the top pros can overcome their differences to work as a team.”

Beth looked at Viv. Viv seemed to be thinking it over, her eyes focused as if imagining herself in that situation. Beth could feel the tension in the air. She had never really seen herself working together as a coach with Viv… it felt different from the dynamic they had as teammates during training.

“Okay, but… what exactly do you mean by ‘together’?” Beth asked cautiously. “Do we really need to co-lead every drill? I mean, I have my own way of running things, and you know how passionate I am about my approach.”

Renée nodded. “You’ll need to collaborate on the whole process. Of course, you can each bring your own input, but I want you to work together on deciding how to approach the session. It’ll help you get to know each other better. You might be surprised by what you can learn from each other.”

Viv looked at Beth, slightly amused. “I can already guess what you’ll think of my way of training. And I’m sure there are things you do that I’d do differently.”

Beth smiled faintly, a little sarcastic. “I know. But maybe we can try to combine it. If it works.”

Renée nodded, clearly pleased. “Great! You’re doing great. And don’t forget, this is a chance for you both to strengthen each other. I’ll see you next week to go over the details. Thanks, ladies.”

She turned to walk away, while Beth and Viv looked at each other, the coach’s words still lingering in the air. It was clear that there was some tension, and not just about the youth training session. The idea of working together felt strange.

Viv sighed deeply, her shoulders relaxing. “This is going to be an interesting week, I think.”

Beth nodded, her smile turning into a more thoughtful expression. “For sure. But maybe it’s good to step out of our comfort zones.”

---

The morning sun hung high in the sky as Beth and Viv arrived at the training field, Alfie in tow. It was a crisp, bright day, perfect for an outdoor session with the youth team. Viv pushed Alfie’s buggy, and Beth walked beside her, both of them carrying bags filled with coaching gear. They exchanged a few quiet words, both of them still processing the unexpected task that Renée had assigned them.

“I can’t believe she talked us into this,” Beth muttered, half to herself. “I mean, one full session with the youth team? Together?”

Viv chuckled softly, her gaze drifting over to the young girls who were already warming up. “Well, it’s a bit of a surprise, but maybe it’ll be fun. They could use some energy, right?”

Beth shrugged, but a small grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I just hope they can keep up with me.”

Viv raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile on her lips. “You’re about to find out, I suppose.”

They reached the field where the young players were stretching and chatting among themselves. When they saw Beth and Viv walking toward them, the girls perked up, their excitement palpable. The younger players idolized the two women, and the thought of getting a chance to train with them was almost too much to handle.

“Alright, girls,” Beth said with a bright smile, clapping her hands to get their attention. “Let’s see what you’ve got today.”

The girls gathered around, and Viv began to unpack some cones, organizing the field for the drills they had planned. Beth took the lead, shouting out instructions, her energy contagious as she fired off quick drills designed to get the girls moving.

Viv stood to the side for a moment, watching Beth in action. There was a raw intensity to the way she coached, her movements sharp and decisive. It was clear Beth knew how to push the girls to their limits, and she did so with an enthusiasm that inspired them to give their best.

“Come on, girls! Keep those feet moving!” Beth shouted, a grin on her face as she watched the girls work hard to keep up with her pace.

Viv smiled to herself, impressed by Beth’s drive, but it was time for her to step in. She called out to the group, her tone a little softer but no less commanding. “Alright, let’s slow it down for a second and focus on your technique.”

The girls paused, catching their breath as they listened. Viv walked to the front of the group, her hands on her hips. “We’ll work on your ball control and passing today. Focus on precision, not speed.”

Beth raised an eyebrow as she watched Viv shift the pace, her style markedly different from her own. Beth liked to push the girls hard, testing their endurance, while Viv was more focused on the technical aspects. It was a good balance, but Beth had to admit, it felt a little strange.

As the drill continued, Viv took a few steps back, keeping a watchful eye on the girls. That’s when Alfie, who had been playing with a toy on the sidelines, suddenly squealed with joy and began to roll over toward Viv.

“Vivi, look!” Alfie shouted, his little hands waving excitedly in the air.

Viv stopped mid-motion and glanced over at Alfie, her face softening as she saw the toddler’s enthusiasm. “What is it, Alfie?” she asked, a gentle smile tugging at her lips.

Alfie, still too young to properly pronounce words, had taken to calling Viv “Vivi” instead of “Vivianne” It was a slip of the tongue, but it made Viv’s heart warm. She bent down to meet Alfie’s gaze.

Beth looked over, catching the moment. She couldn’t help but smile at the tender way Viv interacted with the child. “Vivi, huh?” she remarked, teasing her friend with a playful smirk.

Viv looked up, her cheeks flushing slightly. “It’s not my fault he can’t say ‘Vivianne,’” she replied, laughing softly. “But I suppose I’ll get used to it.”

Beth gave her a knowing glance, her expression softening. “You look good with him, you know?”

Viv paused, caught off guard by Beth’s words. She glanced at Beth, a brief moment of vulnerability flashing in her eyes before she quickly masked it with a shrug. “I’m just trying to be a good influence, I guess.”

Beth wasn’t convinced. She had seen something in Viv that she hadn’t noticed before; a side of her that was warm, nurturing, something she didn’t expect from the confident, fiercely competitive woman she knew.

Viv straightened up and turned her attention back to the girls. “Alright, let’s get back to work, everyone. Focus on your control and balance. Keep those passes tight.”

The girls immediately fell into line, ready to follow Viv’s instructions. Beth watched them for a moment before she joined in, her energy high as she jumped into the next drill.

And as the session drew to a close, Beth couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride watching the girls improve. They had worked hard, and it was clear they’d learned something valuable.

As they gathered their things and prepared to leave, Alfie ran up to Viv again, this time holding a ball in his tiny hands. “Vivi, kick!” he exclaimed.

Viv crouched down to take the ball, laughing as she gently kicked it toward Alfie. “Alright, alright. I’ll kick it. But only because you asked so nicely.”

Beth watched the exchange from a distance, her heart inexplicably light. She was really seeing Viv in a way she never had before; softer, more caring, and, in a way, more human. It was a side of Viv she hadn’t known she wanted to see, but now that she had, it made her heart flutter with something she couldn’t quite place.

The sound of the girls packing up and slowly heading to the locker room was echoing across the field. The cool air of the early evening settled in as Beth and Viv sat on the edge of the pitch, their legs hanging off the side, just watching the last few players head out. Alfie was happily playing with a ball near Viv’s feet, rolling it back and forth, a little giggle escaping his mouth each time it bounced away.

“That went better than I expected,” Beth said, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. She turned to Viv, who was still watching the girls, a soft smile on her face as she observed the younger players chatting among themselves, clearly energized by the session.

Viv smiled, her lips curving gently. “Yeah, I think they really liked it. You definitely know how to keep them moving.” Her tone was light, but Beth noticed a certain warmth in her words. It was a compliment, no doubt, but there was something deeper in it that made Beth feel seen.

“Yeah, they definitely got a good workout.” Beth laughed, but then her voice softened as she looked at Viv. “I think you did great too, Viv. You really helped them with their technique. It’s a different approach, but it works.”

Viv glanced at Beth, her expression slightly more serious now. She nodded slowly. “I guess... it’s just not something I ever thought I’d be doing.” There was a small hesitation before she continued. “Coaching, I mean. Especially with kids.” She let out a soft breath, her eyes looking away for a moment.

Beth’s brow furrowed in curiosity, but she didn’t say anything right away, letting Viv take the lead.

“I’ve never really seen myself with kids,” Viv said quietly, almost as if she was talking to herself. “I mean, I’ve always been so focused on football. On my career. The idea of settling down or having kids... it never really fit into the plan. I don’t know, I just never saw it as something for me.”

Beth was quiet for a beat, her eyes scanning Viv’s face. She could hear the uncertainty in Viv’s voice, something she hadn’t expected from the confident woman who had always been so sure of herself on the field.

“Do you regret it?” Beth asked softly, her voice gentle but direct.

Viv’s gaze shifted to the ground, her fingers absentmindedly twirling the grass at her feet. She looked thoughtful, as if weighing her response. “I don’t know if ‘regret’ is the right word,” she said slowly. “But it’s… different now. I think I might have been too focused on my career for too long. And now, with Alfie around… I don’t know. I guess I’m starting to wonder what it would be like to have a family. What it would feel like to be a part of something bigger than just football. It’s strange.”

Beth felt a twinge in her chest, a surge of empathy for Viv. It was as though a wall that had been up for so long was finally coming down, and Beth was seeing a side of Viv she hadn’t known existed.

“You don’t have to have it all figured out,” Beth said quietly, her tone soft but reassuring. “It’s okay to not have all the answers. You’re doing a great job with Alfie, Viv. And you did something really special with the girls team today. Oh and most importantly, you’ve managed to keep yourself alive.”

Viv smiled faintly, but there was a slight sadness in her eyes. “It just feels like everything is happening so fast, you know? One moment, I was just focused on playing, and then everything changed. Break up, Lisa moving on, me trying to get over it, new season, you making sure I am okay, me making sure you are okay, Alfie being the first ever toddler who likes me, this coaching thing... I didn’t expect any of it. I guess sometimes I feel like I’m not really in control of my own life  anymore.”

Beth shifted, moving a little closer to Viv, their shoulders nearly touching now. “Maybe it’s not about being in control all the time,” she said softly. “Maybe it’s about just... letting it happen. Sometimes, the best things are the ones you don’t plan for.”

Viv met her gaze, her eyes thoughtful, before she nodded slowly. There was something unspoken in the moment, a bond forming between the two of them. It was more than just shared experiences on the field; it was something deeper, something Beth hadn’t expected but found herself drawn to in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

“Thanks, Beth,” Viv said quietly, her voice a little more vulnerable than usual. “I didn’t realize I needed to hear that.”

Beth smiled, a warmth spreading through her chest. “Anytime.” She paused, her eyes softening as she glanced down at Alfie, who was now rolling the ball over to her. “You’re doing great, Viv. You really are.”

Viv gave her a small smile. They sat together for a few more moments, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the quiet buzz of the field in the distance filling the space between them.

Finally, Viv broke the silence, her voice quieter than before. “Maybe I’ll give this ‘family’ thing a shot someday. I’m not saying I want it all right now, but... maybe it’s not so bad.” She gave a small chuckle, though it was tinged with uncertainty. “Maybe I’ll even get used to being called ‘Vivi’.”

Beth’s lips curled into a teasing grin. “It suits you,” she said with a wink.

Viv laughed softly, shaking her head. “I think I’ve had enough of being called ‘Vivi’ for today.”

Beth laughed too, the tension lifting slightly between them, but there was still something lingering in the air. Viv’s confession had opened a door, and Beth couldn’t help but wonder what else lay behind it.

The moment hung in the air, the quiet buzz of the emptying field filling the space around them. Viv and Beth sat side by side, still perched on the edge of the pitch. Alfie, now tired from his playful antics, had settled down near Viv’s feet, his small hand grasping the ball, his eyes starting to droop as the afternoon sun began to soften.

Beth let out a slow breath, her gaze flicking from Viv to the horizon where the sky was turning a soft shade of pink. The day had been unexpectedly fulfilling. Despite the initial uncertainty, the training session had gone well, and the brief exchange between them had left Beth with more thoughts than she had anticipated.

“Do you ever think about what’s next?” Beth asked softly, her voice cutting through the stillness between them.

Viv’s eyes shifted to her, a small furrow appearing in her brow. She tilted her head slightly, considering the question before responding. “What do you mean, ‘what’s next’?” she asked, her tone curious but not defensive.

Beth shrugged slightly, her hands resting on the grass beside her. “I mean... after football. What do you see in your future? When the game is over?” Her voice was gentle, but there was a subtle vulnerability to it that Viv noticed instantly.

Viv was quiet for a moment, her eyes lingering on the field as she seemed to think about the question. The easy confidence that she usually wore like a second skin seemed to fade, replaced by a subtle hesitation that surprised Beth.

“I used to think that I’d just keep playing forever,” Viv replied after a beat, her voice quieter now. “That was always the plan. Focus on the game, push for the next goal, the next season. There was always something to chase, something to prove.” She let out a small, almost self-deprecating laugh. “But lately... I don’t know. I’ve been thinking a lot about what I really want.”

Viv was silent for a moment, her gaze flicking to the ground, her fingers lightly brushing against the grass. She seemed deep in thought, the quiet settling between them like a comfortable blanket. Then, after a moment, she spoke again, her voice almost hesitant.

“You know,” she said softly, “Sometimes I feel like I’m only starting to really discover who I am. Not as a footballer, but as... me. Viv. Not just ‘Viv the striker,’ or ‘Viv the team captain,’  or even ‘Viv, Lisa’s girlfriend’ but just... me.”

Beth felt a lump in her throat at the vulnerability in Viv’s words. It wasn’t easy for someone like Viv to let her guard down like this. She was used to being strong, independent, the one who always had her shit together. And yet here she was, admitting something so deeply human, so raw.

Maybe it was the way Viv had opened up to her, or the way they’d both been vulnerable in their own ways. But Beth could feel something between them, a deeper connection forming, something that was no longer just about coaching or friendship.

“You’re pretty incredible by the way. Not even Lisa ever managed to get something vulnerable like this out of me” Viv murmured, her voice soft. The way Viv spoke held a sincerity that Beth hadn’t expected.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, but the silence felt different now. It was comfortable, filled with the weight of their shared thoughts and quiet moments. As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the field, they sat together, the bond between them deepening.

[meadematales]

~Painted in Blue, Pink, and Yellow~

The path to us - chapter 7 ➡️masterlist

--December 4, 2022--

The morning light is soft, filtering gently through the curtains of Beth’s flat. It’s that quiet time of day when everything seems still, the world just waking up. The warmth of the sunlight spills across the room, casting a peaceful glow on everything it touches.

The doorbell rings, breaking the silence. Beth glances up, her brow furrowing slightly as she stands to answer. She opens the door to find her friends standing on the threshold, Alfie standing next to them. He’s yawning, still groggy from the night’s sleep, his hair messy and his small body a bit sluggish. As soon as he spots her, though, a sleepy smile spreads across his face, and he reaches for her.

"Morning, sweetheart. Did you have a nice sleepover?" Beth asks softly as she helps him out of his coat and shoes. Her friends exchange a quick greeting, offering a smile before heading back out, leaving Beth and Alfie alone once more in the quiet of the flat.

Beth watches for a moment as Alfie, now more awake, heads over to the rug. He drops down onto it, a little groan escaping his lips as he gets comfortable. His hands reach for the wooden blocks scattered around, and soon, he’s absorbed in his little world of stacking them, completely focused.

Beth returns to the couch, her fingers tracing the edge of her phone absentmindedly. She doesn’t want to look at it, but the temptation is there. No new messages. No message from Viv. She sighs, but it’s not a loud sigh—more like a soft, quiet release of breath, the kind you make when something small but persistent is weighing on you.

Her thoughts drift back to last night, to Viv’s voice echoing in her mind: I'm afraid I need you.

Alfie giggles softly as his tower of blocks tumbles down, sending pieces scattering across the rug. He doesn’t seem bothered in the least. He simply picks up the blocks and starts again, his small hands working with purpose and focus, rebuilding it without a second thought.

Beth watches him, a quiet smile tugging at her lips. There’s something calming about his simplicity, the way he doesn’t worry about things falling apart. He just rebuilds, one block at a time, without hesitation or doubt.

Her phone still rests in her lap, the screen waiting for her to make a decision. She glances at it again, wondering if she should reach out to Viv, but the thought brings a knot to her stomach. Should I?

She lets out a soft sigh, setting the phone aside for the moment. She looks at Alfie again, who’s still completely absorbed in his play. The room has warmed up with the rising sun, the light filling the space in a way that feels comforting. Maybe it’s too soon to act.

Then, out of nowhere, he asks again: “Where Vivi?”

Beth’s breath catches, just for a second. It’s a question Alfie asks every day.

She clears her throat. “She’s, um... not here right now,” Beth says gently, not quite knowing how to explain. Beth looks at Alfie for a moment. "But don’t worry," she says with a calm smile. "You will see her soon, I promise.”

Alfie nods slowly.

Beth gets up and heads to the kitchen, starting the kettle, more out of ritual than desire. As she opens the cupboard for mugs, her fingers hover over the familiar green ceramic one — Viv’s favourite. The one Beth only ever drinks from when Viv’s there, or when she misses her.

She pulls it out and stares at it for a moment, the warmth of the memory filling her. But, feeling the weight of it — too personal, too much hope — she sets it back and picks up the plain white one instead.

From the other room, Alfie’s soft humming drifts into the kitchen. He’s now on the floor with a green crayon, drawing on a take-out menu. His voice is light and singsongy: “Vivi green. I green. Toast brown. Frogs go ‘boo.’”

Beth chuckles softly, pouring the hot water into her mug. “You’re a poet.”

Alfie beams up at her, his little hands still gripping the crayon, his smile so proud. “You toast-head.”

“Charming,” Beth says with a smile, shaking her head.

She takes a sip of her tea, and they settle into the quiet rhythm of the morning. The soft sound of Alfie’s crayon scratching against paper fills the room, while Beth watches him, lost in thought.

Will Viv show up today?

Will she say anything more?

---

The walk from the changing rooms to the pitch feels longer than usual. Beth tugs her jacket tighter around her, eyes downcast, her boots crunching softly over the gravel.

From the far side of the field, she spots her — Viv, already on the pitch, warming up alone. Her hood is up despite the dry weather, shoulders hunched slightly, face turned away. She looks like she’s trying to disappear into the fabric of her own jacket.

Beth hesitates at the sideline.

They haven’t spoken properly since last night. Since Viv’s whispered “I’m afraid I need you”, and the silence that followed.

She moves forward slowly, crossing the turf like she’s approaching a skittish animal. She stops just close enough that Viv can’t pretend not to see her.

“Hey.”

Viv pauses, mid-stretch, and looks up. Her expression is unreadable for a moment, but her mouth softens slightly. “Hey.”

Beth offers a careful smile. “Didn’t think you��d be here this early.”

Viv shrugs, eyes drifting back down to her laces. “Didn’t sleep much.”

Beth watches her for a beat. “Alfie asked about you.”

Viv’s face flinches. Just slightly, but Beth sees it. A crack in the armour.

“What did he say?” Viv asks, trying to keep her tone light.

"He wants you to come back," Beth says softly, her words gentle but firm. "He, again, asked where you are."

Viv looks down at her hands, as if suddenly unsure what to do with them. She shifts her weight, awkwardly pulling at the sleeve of her hood.

“I… didn’t think it would matter that much to him,” Viv says quietly, her voice rough, like she's trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

Beth takes a breath, letting the words hang for a moment. “Of course it matters. You two have built a strong bond together over the past few months. He’s little, Viv, but he notices when you’re gone.” She steps closer, her voice soft but insistent. “We all do.”

“I just… don’t know how to fix it. How to make things right. I’ve hurt you." Viv murmurs. Her eyes fall to the floor, like she's hoping the answer will be there.

Viv looks up, meeting Beth's eyes for the first time. "I don’t want to keep making the same mistakes."

Beth takes a slow breath. "You won’t. You’re already trying. That’s enough for now."

Viv looks uncertain, but Beth gives her a small, encouraging smile. "Just... be here. That’s enough."

Beth ties her boots and gets up. “Come warm up with me?”

Viv hesitates, then falls into step beside her. Their arms brush as they jog toward the others — not on purpose, not yet. But not entirely by accident either.

---

It's a few days later, Beth hadn’t expected Viv to say yes when she’d invited her in after training. She’d asked without much fanfare — a casual offer as they packed their boots away, like it didn’t matter either way.

But now, with Viv sitting on the edge of the sofa, watching Alfie line up his plastic paint pots in order of his very particular favourite colours, Beth feels it. Viv is here. In her space. Again.

Viv has her sleeves rolled up. There’s a smudge of blue paint on the inside of her wrist, a tiny crescent where Alfie had missed the paper entirely. Her laugh had been soft when it happened — not loud, not careless, just quietly real. The kind of laugh Beth had missed more than she’d realized.

Alfie is babbling instructions in his usual toddler logic. Not understandable at all. He’s wearing an old Arsenal training bib over his T-shirt like a paint smock. His chubby fingers are half-covered in yellow. Ready to make the next part of the painting.

Beth leans on the kitchen counter, watching. She’s not sure what touches her more — the way Alfie trusts Viv completely, or the way Viv doesn’t flinch under that trust anymore.

“Vivi,” Alfie announces with great ceremony. “Now you hand.”

Viv raises an eyebrow. “Mine?”

Alfie nods seriously, pointing to the paper where two other handprints already sit — Beth’s smaller, more delicate shape in pink; his in a slightly smeared yellow.

“Room,” he says, patting the empty space next to them.

Viv glances over at Beth, uncertain. But Beth only smiles, quiet encouragement in her eyes. No pressure. No expectations. Just… an invitation.

Viv sighs gently, then reaches for the blue pot. “Alright then.”

She dips her hand slowly, carefully, into the cool paint. Alfie giggles.

“It’s cold,” Viv says, holding up her dripping hand. “Is that part of the experience?”

“Yup,” Alfie says, nodding fast.

Viv presses her hand onto the paper with deliberate care. There’s a squelch sound, and Alfie leans in like it’s magic.

When she lifts her hand away, the shape remains: long fingers, strong palm. Her print overlaps the edge of Beth’s just slightly. Close enough to touch.

Alfie claps. “Done!”

Beth steps closer, glancing down at the page. Three handprints, side by side. Pink, yellow, and blue.

Viv stares at it for a long moment. Then, almost to herself: “I’ve never been part of something like this.”

Beth meets her eyes. “You are now. If you want to be.”

Viv doesn’t answer right away. But her fingers flex — paint still drying in the creases — and when Alfie crawls up onto the sofa next to her, leaning his tiny frame against her side, she doesn’t hesitate. She lets him rest there. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Viv looks down at the handprints again, the colours blending together in a soft, imperfect harmony. She feels the weight of the moment settle in, quiet and strange, but comforting too. For a long time, she never realized how much she craved something like this—something simple, something shared.

Alfie shifts beside her, his little head tucked against her shoulder, his breath warm against her arm.

Viv turns her head slightly, meeting Beth’s gaze. "I know," she says, her voice quieter than usual. She clears her throat. "I think I want to.”

Beth’s smile softens, like she’s been waiting for this moment, even if she didn’t know it herself. She steps closer, her movements slow, like she doesn’t want to disturb the fragile space between them.

“I’m glad,” she says, her voice warm and steady.

Vivi swallows, the weight of the words sinking in.

Alfie shifts again, looking up at her with wide, trusting eyes. "Vivi?" he says in his small voice, a soft, expectant sound.

She smiles, something unfamiliar blooming in her chest. "Yeah, Alfie?"

"Play?" he asks, holding up his tiny toy car, his eyes wide with hope.

Viv laughs quietly, a sound that feels like a release. "Alright, let’s play."

As she scoops him into her arms, the weight of the world lightens just a little, and she knows, without a doubt, that in this moment, she’s exactly where she’s meant to be.

---

The apartment is quiet. The world outside seems miles away, the soft rhythm of the rain against the windows keeping everything still, like the night has wrapped itself around them both.

Beth and Viv are sitting on the couch, the space between them now smaller than before, more comfortable. They’ve shared a few easy laughs over dinner, and the conversation has drifted to the mundane — the weather, Alfie’s antics, the usual day-to-day.

Beth catches Viv looking at her again. Her heart stirs with the familiarity of it. The way Viv is looking at her, the quiet pull in her eyes, is different from the uncertainty of earlier.

“You okay?” Beth asks softly, unsure whether the question is for her or for Viv.

Viv hesitates, her eyes flicking down to the half-empty mug in her hands. She’s been quiet since they tucked Alfie into bed, her gaze faraway, as though her thoughts were a little too tangled to sort through.

“I think I’m starting to understand something I wasn’t ready to admit,” Viv says slowly, the words careful, like she’s testing the weight of them as they leave her mouth.

Beth’s breath catches, a quiet anticipation flooding her chest. “What’s that?”

Viv turns toward her then, the faintest smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. “I’ve been running for so long. From people. From things that could matter. But… I think I’m not scared anymore.”

She pauses, her gaze dropping to her hands, still stained with the remnants of the paint. When she looks up again, there’s a quiet vulnerability in her eyes. “I think... the only thing I’m scared of now is losing this. Losing you.”

Beth swallows, trying to steady the sudden rush of emotion that hits her. She leans in slightly now, close enough that she can feel Viv’s warmth, feel the tension still clinging to the air between them.

Viv went on, “I didn’t know how much I needed this, until...— until I found it. And now that it’s here, now we are here, I don’t want to let go.”

Beth’s heart aches in a way she can’t quite describe. She reaches out, just a small movement, but it’s enough. Her fingers brush lightly against Viv’s hand, a simple, comforting touch.

“You won’t lose me,” Beth says, the conviction clear in her voice. “Not if you don’t want to.”

And for the briefest moment, time seems to slow. It’s a moment of quiet understanding, of connection that goes deeper than just words.

Then, without thinking, Viv leans forward, just slightly, her face inching closer to Beth’s. The air between them crackles, the weight of it filling the room. Their breaths mingle, and everything inside Beth urges her to close the gap. Her heart beats louder in her chest, faster.

She can feel it. The pull. The moment of truth.

Viv stops just short, her eyes flicking from Beth’s lips to her eyes, searching. There’s a softness in her gaze now, vulnerable and open. It’s not like any look Viv has given her before — it’s a silent question.

Beth’s pulse quickens. She can’t tear her eyes away, not from Viv, not from the quiet intensity of the moment. She wants to say something, to do something. She wants to close the distance between them, wants to pull Viv into her arms and let the world slip away for just a few seconds.

But just as Beth moves a fraction of an inch, something shifts in the room. A small noise. A faint cry.

Alfie.

“Hold on,” Beth says, her voice low, apologetic. She quickly stands up, her legs almost feeling like they’re moving on their own. “I’ll go check on him.”

She hurries down the hallway, her heart still thundering in her chest. The soft glow of Alfie’s nightlight casts long shadows on the walls, and she sees him sitting up in his toddler bed, rubbing his eyes with one tiny fist.

“Mommy?” Alfie’s voice is small and sleepy. “Can’t sleep.”

Beth sits beside him, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “It’s okay, love. What’s wrong?”

“Cuddle,” he says, his little arms reaching up to her.

Beth smiles, pulling him into her arms and settling back against the headboard. Alfie snuggles against her, his head tucked into the crook of her neck. His warmth, his smallness, everything about him is grounding. Safe.

When Beth returns to the living room, she finds Viv still sitting there, her fingers curled loosely around the edge of the couch, eyes far away.

Beth doesn’t sit right next to her, not yet. But she’s closer. Closer than before.

“I’m sorry,” Beth says, a little breathlessly. “He… sometimes he just needs me.”

Viv turns toward her, her smile soft and understanding. “It’s okay. You’re a mum first. Always.”

Beth sighs softly, her heart still pounding in her chest. She feels the weight of everything they've just shared hanging in the silence. She knows she should do something, but her mind is a whirlwind. Alfie is calm again, back in his bed, but the moment before, with Viv,—something that almost happened—keeps replaying in her mind.

Viv sits closer, her movements slow, almost as if she's waiting for something.

"Beth..." Viv's voice is barely a whisper, the softness of her name hanging in the space between them.

Beth’s breath catches in her throat. She feels the pull between them, the warmth of Viv’s presence, the longing that can no longer be ignored. Her hands ache to reach out, to close the gap between them, but there's still hesitation, the lingering fear of what it might mean—what it could change between them.

"What if it’s not the right time?" Beth says softly, her voice trembling.

Viv steps closer, her eyes filled with understanding. “What if it is?” she asks, her smile gentle, reassuring. “What if it’s exactly what we need?”

In that moment, words are no longer needed. Without thinking, Beth leans forward, her lips meeting Viv’s in a kiss that says everything—everything she’s felt, everything she’s been too afraid to voice. The connection between them is undeniable, deep, and all-consuming.

For a brief instant, the world around them fades. The only thing that matters is the softness of Viv’s lips against hers, the warmth that spreads between them, the quiet intensity of their shared breath.

The kiss starts slow, tentative, but soon it deepens, fuelled by the years of emotion they’ve both kept buried. There’s no room for doubt now—only the undeniable pull, the sense that this moment is the beginning of something new, something that belongs to them alone.

Eventually, they break apart, their foreheads resting gently against each other, breathing in rhythm.

"This is it," Viv whispers, her voice full of warmth, her hand tenderly resting on Beth’s cheek.

Beth closes her eyes, her heart still beating faster than before. “Yeah,” she whispers back, her voice full of wonder. “This is it.”

[meadematales]

~Truth in Headlines, Love in Silence~

The path to us - chapter 8 ➡️Masterlist

--January 12, 2023--

Beth stands at the counter, humming softly as she spreads butter on toast. Her movements are automatic, routine. The smell of coffee begins to waft from the machine, and she breathes it in, her shoulders relaxing slightly. 

Her phone vibrates, its screen lighting up with a series of notifications. Beth picks it up casually, expecting a couple of messages from Viv about their plans later. Viv is at school today, she has some obligations for her sports management studies. They had agreed to take Alfie to the petting zoo later this day. Beth expected this to be Viv messaging her about what time she would be there. But when she unlocks the phone, the flood of notifications is almost overwhelming.

The first one is from an app notification: "BREAKING NEWS: Mystery Father of Beth's Child Revealed!".

Beth’s heart skips a beat. Her fingers hover over the screen as the news article opens, and her stomach twists into a knot.

Sources have confirmed that Beth Mead’s son, Alfie, does indeed has a father—one whose identity has been deliberately kept under wraps until now. While nothing has been officially confirmed, rumours are gaining traction, and speculation is running wild. Whispers suggest that behind Alfie’s story lies a far more intriguing, possibly scandalous, love affair—one the public never saw coming.

Beth stares at the screen, her mind racing. How did they find out? Who had leaked this information? She swipes down, but every new headline feels like a punch to the gut. "Beth Mead’s hidden past exposed." "The father of Alfie is finally uncovered." The press had somehow managed to dig into her private life again, turning her world upside down.

What really stings, though, is that the truth—Alfie’s father—was never some great or spicy love story. He was a fleeting moment, a one-night stand from a chapter Beth had long since closed. And now, that brief encounter is being dragged into the spotlight, twisted into something it never was. The media’s version feels intrusive, almost fictional. The lack of control over her own story is suffocating.

Alfie’s father hadn’t been part of her life for long, and it wasn’t something she’d ever planned on revisiting, let alone publicizing. There had been no grand romance. No deep connection. Just a brief, chaotic moment in her life that had left her with Alfie—and that had been enough. She’d never wanted to share that story with the world.

Her pulse quickens, and she feels a wave of nausea wash over her. She swipes down to check another article, and it paints the same picture: "Beth Mead’s mystery past unearthed: Who is the father of Alfie?" They speculate about Alfie’s father—there are guesses, assumptions, all based on nothing but half-truths and invasive reporting. Some claim it’s an athlete, others a wealthy businessman. But all of them suggest that Beth has been hiding something.

Her fingers tremble as she scrolls, but her eyes are drawn to one comment that cuts deeper than all the others. “She’s just using the baby father story as a cover for her relationship with Viv Miedema, isn’t she?”

Beth shuts the phone with a sharp exhale, her hand shaking as she places it down on the counter. Her thoughts are a mess. This isn't just about Alfie's father anymore—it's about the fact that the media is distorting everything about her life, turning it into a narrative she doesn’t even recognize.

She doesn’t even notice the mug in her hand until the warm coffee spills over her fingers, scalding her skin. She yelps and drops the mug onto the counter. The coffee splashes everywhere, but it’s the least of her worries. She’s too rattled to care about the mess. All she can think about is the media storm that’s about to descend on her.

“Mommy?” a voice calls out from the hallway.

Alfie’s voice, still soft and sleepy. The sound of his little footsteps padding across the floor snaps her out of her daze. Beth quickly grabs a towel and wipes off the coffee before rushing to the living room. She doesn’t want him to see her like this.

Alfie stands in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. His hair is messy from sleep, and his small body is still draped in his favourite pyjamas. “Mommy?” He yawns and stumbles toward her, his little arms outstretched.

Beth crouches down, pulling him into her arms and burying her face in his hair, trying to calm herself. “Hey, baby,” she whispers, brushing his hair back. “You sleep well?”

Alfie nods sleepily, his face still a little flushed from sleep. “Where’s Vivi?” he asks, looking around.

She stands up and begins leading him toward his room to change his diaper, trying to put on a brave face. “She’s just busy, love. You know she’s always there when we need her. She will come later today.”

As she puts Alfie down on the changing table, changes his diaper and dresses him for the day, her mind continues to race. Her phone vibrates again. This time, it’s a notification from a social media app: “Beth Mead trending – fans question the identity of Alfie’s father”.

She glances at the phone but quickly looks away, unable to bring herself to open it. The weight of it all feels suffocating.

She takes a few slow, deep breaths, trying to collect herself. She can’t ignore it — this is her life, and the press has a way of making sure everyone knows all the details, whether they’re true or not. She checks her phone again, but this time she opens a direct message from Viv.

Viv: "Beth, are you okay? I saw the news. Let me know if you need anything. I’m here, I’m always here. Call me if you need. I can skip this lesson."

Beth lets out a shaky breath and types a quick response: "I’m fine. Just… overwhelmed."

For a moment, she stares at the screen, not knowing what else to say. The weight of the world feels like it’s pressing down on her shoulders. She wants to reach out to Viv, wants to tell her everything, but there’s a part of her that’s still uncertain. This isn’t just about Alfie’s father — it’s about how the world is now seeing her.

She’s exposed.

She sighs deeply, wiping away the tear that’s suddenly escaped her eye. She doesn’t want to be weak. Not now. Not in front of Alfie.

As she sits down beside him, she feels the weight of the media storm pressing on her from all sides. It’s only a matter of time before it all blows up.

But for now, she holds her son, trying to give him the stability he needs. Even as everything else feels like it’s falling apart.

Beth’s fingers hesitate above her phone, the screen showing a slew of notifications. A surge of dread floods her chest. The world has already begun to turn its harsh gaze on her. It’s not the curiosity of the media she’s worried about, but the cruel comments that follow.

She takes a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. With trembling fingers, she swipes through her messages. She doesn’t want to look, but she feels as if she must.

The first comment that catches her eye is on her Twitter feed. It’s from someone who doesn’t hold back:

“She’s just using that poor kid to distract everyone from the real question. Who’s the father? The ‘mystery’ is a joke.”

Beth feels her breath catch in her throat. Her stomach churns, the weight of the judgment sinking deep into her bones.

Then another comment, from a different user:

“Why hide the father? What are you covering up, Beth? Afraid of the truth coming out?”

Her heart beats faster. She knows she shouldn’t let the words of strangers affect her, but there’s a part of her that’s always sensitive to public opinion. The fear that people will look at her as something she’s not, the constant scrutiny—it’s like being trapped in a cage with no escape.

She scrolls down, each comment more brutal than the last.

“So, she’s a single mom. Big deal. But hiding the dad like it’s some scandal? What are you trying to hide, Beth?”

The words claw at her insides. They don’t understand. They don’t know the truth. They don’t know that she never wanted to hide Alfie’s father. It just… happened. She shakes her head, trying to push the thoughts away.

A notification from Instagram appears. It’s a post from an influencer she used to follow—someone with a large following. The caption reads:

“Does anyone else find it strange how Beth Mead’s baby daddy has been kept so secret? I wonder what she’s hiding. Maybe it’s time the truth comes out. Thoughts?”

The post is accompanied by an image of Beth and Alfie at a match, with a blurry background of Viv standing next to them. It’s an innocuous photo, but the way it’s been cropped and framed is deliberate—almost like an accusation. Like they’re trying to piece things together, to create their own narrative.

Beth’s thumb hovers over the screen, wanting to respond, but the words feel stuck in her throat. Her fingers curl into fists, frustration burning through her veins. What do they want from her? What does the world expect from her?

The comments under the post are a flood of assumptions and judgment. Some are supportive, but they’re drowned out by the wave of harsh opinions.

“She’s probably just ashamed of being a single mom. What else would explain the secrecy?”

“She’s probably embarrassed that she doesn’t know who the father is. Just admit it, Beth.”

A knot tightens in her chest. It feels as if everyone is looking at her, dissecting her every move. As if they’re watching her every decision, judging it from the outside, and twisting it into something it’s not.

Her phone buzzes in her hand. It’s another message, but this time, it’s from Viv again.

Viv: “I’m seeing all this. Don’t let them get to you. I’m here. Just breathe.”

Beth stares at the message for a moment, the words both comforting and painful. Viv is right—she shouldn’t let it get to her. But how can she not? It feels like an avalanche, each comment heavier than the last. They don’t know the truth. They don’t understand that Alfie’s father was never meant to be anything more than a brief encounter. They don’t know about her past, about the choices she had to make.

She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I know," she types back. "I just… I hate feeling like I have to explain myself to strangers. This isn’t who I am."

She hits send, then immediately regrets it. She feels exposed, vulnerable. Even her response feels like a defence, as though she’s begging for approval.

The silence in the apartment is thick with tension, and Beth sits there for a long moment, feeling as though the walls are closing in around her. Her thoughts are interrupted by Alfie’s voice.

“Mommy sad?”

Beth’s heart breaks at the question. “No, darling. I am alright, okay?”

He nods slowly, but there is concern lingering in his gaze. She forces a smile, but it feels weak.

“Why don’t we do something fun?” Beth suggests, trying to distract him. “How about we play with your trains?”

Alfie’s face lights up, and he jumps off the bed. “Yes! Trains!”

As he scurries off to grab his toys, Beth watches him go, the weight of the world still pressing heavily on her shoulders. She glances at her phone again, but then stops herself. No more. She can’t keep looking. She can’t let them define her.

---

Viv’s thumb flicks across her screen, scrolling through the tidal wave of notifications. The media is relentless, the speculation growing by the minute. The screenshots, the relentless comments—they’re all there. The world is trying to piece together Beth’s life, to fill in the blanks, to assign blame. And as always, they want someone to point the finger at.

She stops at a post shared by a popular tabloid: “Who’s the Father? The Truth About Beth Mead’s Baby’s Mystery Man”

Viv frowns. She knows the story. Beth told her everything. She also she knows that the media loves a scandal. The headlines, the questions—they’re turning Beth’s life into something it’s not. Something they don’t understand.

A tap on her shoulder brings her back to the present. It’s her lecturer, pulling her attention away from the chaos on her phone.

“Vivianne, everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says with a worried expression.

Viv puts her phone away, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just a lot of noise today.”

The lecturer nods but doesn’t press further, moving on to speak with one of the other students.

Viv’s mind isn’t here. It’s with Beth—how she’s probably sitting at home, alone, feeling the weight of the media’s attack.

Viv’s heart aches as she thinks about how unfair it all is. Beth’s life is being picked apart, and Viv can’t stand the idea of her being alone in this. Especially with everything that’s happening between them. They may not be together officially, but Viv knows in her gut that she’s not about to let Beth carry this burden alone.

As the morning progresses, Viv can’t shake the feeling of helplessness. She wants to help, but what can she do? The media has a mind of its own, and once the storm has started, it’s hard to stop.

Then, in a split second, she knows what she has to do.

Viv takes a deep breath. She heads toward the canteen, determination in her step. She doesn’t hesitate. She opens her phone again, taps into her Twitter account, and begins typing. She knows the world will be watching, but this time, she’s not afraid to speak her truth.

@Viviannemiedema: “No one is ever truly alone if you have the right people by your side. Beth, you’re not alone in this. I am here for you. Always.”

She stares at the words for a moment, making sure they reflect exactly what she feels. It’s simple, but it’s heartfelt. It’s her way of telling the world that they are a team—not just as teammates, but in a deeper, more personal sense.

She hesitates for a moment, and then presses “Post.”

Immediately, the responses start flooding in. Supportive messages from teammates, friends, and fans who have watched them together. But Viv can already sense the backlash coming. The trolls, the critics, and the doubters—there’s no stopping them once they’ve latched onto something.

But Viv isn’t backing down. Not now. Not when Beth needs her the most.

She can feel her pulse quicken as the notifications continue. But she doesn’t care. She knows Beth will see this. And she knows it’s the right thing to do.

Her phone buzzes again, and this time, it’s a message from Beth. Viv hesitates before opening it, wondering what Beth will say.

Beth: “Viv… Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Viv’s heart softens, a mixture of warmth and something deeper—something she’s still figuring out.

Her phone buzzes again, but this time it’s from a journalist she knows from a previous interview. It’s a request for a comment, asking about her stance on the rumours surrounding Beth. She sighs, feeling the weight of the responsibility settling on her shoulders.

She types out a quick response:

Viv: “I’m not here to entertain speculation. Beth is a wonderful person. Anyone who has a problem with that can keep their opinions to themselves.”

She smiles at her own response, knowing it won’t stop the media frenzy. But it feels good to finally stand up, to speak her truth.

As she leaves the canteen, a stranger approaches her, giving her a supportive look.

“You did the right thing,” she says. “Don’t let the noise get to you.”

Viv nods, but her thoughts are still with Beth. She knows that this will only escalate, but at least she’s made her stance clear.

The day goes on, with the team’s usual training drills, but Viv’s mind remains occupied. Her thoughts keep drifting back to Beth and the storm she’s been thrust into.

As she heads home that afternoon, her phone buzzes again. It’s another message from Beth.

Beth: “You didn’t have to do that, but I’m glad you did. It means more than you know.”

Viv smiles, her heart swelling.

---

Beth’s fingers trace the rim of her coffee cup, the warmth comforting her as she stares out the window. The events of the day keep replaying in her mind—Viv’s tweet, the outpouring of support, and the constant speculation. It’s all so overwhelming. She never asked for any of this attention, but the world seems to think it’s entitled to it.

She glances over at her phone again, her eyes drawn to Viv’s tweet. “You’re not alone in this.” It’s simple, but it means everything.

The sound of the doorbell rings through the apartment, pulling Beth out of her thoughts. She’s been expecting this. Viv had texted earlier, asking if she still wanted to go to the petting zoo with Alfie, or if she would rather just stay home. No matter what Beth answer was, Viv would come anyway. She simply could not leave her alone today.

Beth opens the door, and there she is—Viv, standing in the doorway with a small, genuine smile, as if nothing had happened.

“Hey,” Viv says softly as she steps inside, giving Beth a quick kiss and then pulling her into the tightest hug they've ever shared.

“Hey,” Beth replies, her voice quieter than usual.

Viv sets down her bag by the door and glances toward the kitchen. “You still drinking that coffee? I could use one.”

Beth chuckles softly, more to herself than to Viv. “Yeah, it’s my fourth cup today.” She motions to the counter where a fresh pot sits, still steaming. “Help yourself.”

Viv walks into the kitchen, taking a mug from the cabinet. She fills it and takes a sip before sitting down at the small dining table. There’s a sense of familiarity here—the kind that comes when two people know each other too well, but still haven't put words to it. Viv places her cup down and looks at Beth.

“So,” Viv begins, her eyes meeting Beth’s, “how are you doing?”

Beth exhales slowly, leaning back against the counter. “I don’t know, Viv. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Just... start somewhere,” Viv says, her tone soft, encouraging.

Beth glances at her phone again. The tabloid articles. The fans—half of them supportive, half of them critical. The constant guessing about her life. It’s all too much. But here, in this moment, she feels a small piece of peace simply by having Viv in the same room.

“I don’t get why people care so much,” Beth admits, looking down at her hands. “I’m just trying to be a good mom to Alfie. That’s all I’m doing. But now, it’s like I’m being pulled into something bigger than me, and I... I don’t know if I can keep up with it.”

Viv nods, understanding the depth of her frustration. “I get it. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t ask for Alfie’s dad to be a mystery, or for your life to be under a microscope. It’s a lot. But you’re not in it alone, Beth. You never have to be.”

Beth’s gaze flicks to Viv. Viv isn’t backing down. She’s here, just like she said she would be.

Beth’s throat tightens, emotion catching her off guard. She hadn’t planned to cry—had promised herself she wouldn’t—but the warmth in Viv’s voice, the quiet steadiness of her presence, begins to unravel something inside her.

“I hate that it affects Alfie,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “He doesn’t even know yet, but one day he will. One day he’ll see all of this, the headlines, the gossip. And I’m scared of how that’s going to shape him.”

Viv takes a slow step forward, her hands resting gently on the edge of the counter beside Beth’s. “You’re doing everything you can to protect him,” she says. “And when that day comes, when he starts asking questions, you’ll tell him the truth. In your way. With love. That’s what he’ll remember—not the noise.”

Beth presses her lips together, holding back a trembling breath. “And what if the truth isn’t enough?” she asks. “What if it hurts him anyway?”

Viv shakes her head. “The truth, coming from someone who loves him, is always better than silence wrapped in fear. You’re not perfect, Beth. None of us are. But you’re brave. And Alfie—he’s got you. That’s a damn good start.”

Silence stretches between them for a moment, not heavy, but full. Full of things that don’t need to be said out loud.

Then Beth lets out a shaky laugh, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. “I didn’t expect to cry today.”

Viv smiles, soft and genuine. “That’s kind of our thing though, isn’t it?”

Beth chuckles. “Yeah... maybe it is.”

Viv reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind Beth’s ear with practiced ease. “You’ve got people, Beth. Not just me. Leah, Steph, all the girls. No matter what the headlines say, you’re not alone in this.”

Beth leans into the touch for just a second, grounding herself. “Thank you,” she whispers. “Really.”

Viv just nods. “Always.”

As the quiet settled around them, Viv glanced at the clock, then down at her empty mug. She gave a small sigh and stood, stretching slightly before smoothing out her hoodie. Beth watched her, not quite ready for the moment to end, but understanding that it had to.

Viv moved toward the door slowly, as if reluctant to break the calm that had settled between them. Just before she stepped out, she turned back. Her hand lingered on the doorframe, and her voice was quiet, sincere.

“If it ever gets too loud, or too heavy... you don’t have to carry it by yourself. Call me. Anytime.”

Beth nodded, her throat tightening again—not from sadness this time, but from the simple steadiness of being seen. “I know,” she said softly. “And I will.”

Viv held her gaze a moment longer, then crossed the short distance between them. She leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on Beth’s lips before she went to go home—brief, warm, familiar. Not rushed. Not uncertain. Just real.

[meadematales]

~Meeting The Parents~

Moments on Our Path - One Shot - ➡️Masterlist

--February 24, 2023--

Viv’s house was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt comfortable rather than unsettling. The afternoon sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the living room. Beth and Viv had just returned from training, tired but in that familiar, satisfying way that came with the end of a long day. Alfie, always full of energy, had his “special toy bag” with him — a small, well-worn backpack that he only took when he and Beth visited Viv's place. The bag, filled with some of his favourite toys, jingled with every step as he ran around the room, making his toy car zoom across the floor with excited engine noises.

Viv glanced over at Beth as she bent down to help Alfie pick up his toys. There was a slight tension in Beth’s posture — her shoulders tight, her movements more deliberate than usual. Viv had noticed it all afternoon. The upcoming dinner, where Beth would meet her parents for the first time since they’d become a couple, was clearly weighing on her. Beth had known Viv’s parents from their years playing football together, but this was different. This wasn’t just a casual dinner; it was the first time they’d be meeting as partners, and that made it feel like a much bigger step.

“Are you alright?” Viv asked, her voice soft but carrying just enough concern. She sat down on the couch and gestured for Beth to join her.

Beth hesitated for a moment before sitting next to Viv. She took a slow breath, trying to steady herself before speaking. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice a little too light, the smile on her face not quite reaching her eyes. “It’s just... I don’t know. Meeting your parents, for real, I mean. Not just as teammates. It feels... like a lot.”

Viv chuckled, though there was a knowing warmth in her eyes. “I get it,” She said softly. “I really do. But, they’ll love you. I know it.”

Beth gave a small nod, though the tension still lingered in her gaze. “And what if they don’t? What if they think I’m... not enough? Or—”

Viv cut her off gently, placing a hand on hers. “Stop. You’re more than enough. And you’ll see, once you meet them, they’ll probably just be happy for us. They’ll see how much we care about each other.”

There was a brief silence between them. Alfie, oblivious to the adult conversation, had started chasing his toy car again, making a playful “vroom” sound as he crawled after it.

“He’s full of energy,” Beth said, a smile tugging at her lips as she watched Alfie zoom across the living room floor, his laughter filling the space. He was still completely oblivious to the fact that Viv’s parents would be arriving soon. Beth watched him for a moment before speaking aloud, “He probably has no idea what’s coming, does he?”

She paused, a slight frown appearing as she observed Alfie’s playful movements. “I just... I hope he’ll be okay with them. He usually takes a little time to warm up to new people.”

Viv looked over at Beth, sensing the concern in her voice. “He’ll be fine,” she reassured her, though her tone was soft. “He’s just a bit shy at first. He’ll warm up once he feels comfortable.”

Beth bit her lip, her gaze still on Alfie. “I hope so. I just don’t want him to feel overwhelmed, especially not with everything else going on today. I don’t want him to have trouble with... their presence.” Her voice trailed off, her worry still evident.

Viv shifted closer to Beth, her voice gentle but confident. “Beth, he’s stronger than you think. And as for my parents...” She smiled softly, her eyes meeting Beth’s. “They’ll adore him. He’s impossible not to love, and he’s got you in his corner. That’s all that matters.”

Beth seemed to relax a little, though the butterflies in her stomach hadn’t quite settled. “I hope so,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “I really want this to work, Viv. I want to be part of this... part of you, part of your life.”

Viv squeezed her hand, giving her a reassuring smile. “You already are, Beth. You’re more than part of my life — you’re my life now. And my parents? They’ll see that. They just want me to be happy, and you... you make me happy.”

Alfie suddenly climbed into Viv’s lap, his little hands reaching up to pat her cheek with a giggle. “Vivi!” he said, mispronouncing Viv’s name in his usual adorable way.

Beth’s eyes softened and Viv couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey, buddy,” she said, lifting him up and holding him close. She planted a kiss on the top of his head, letting the warmth of the moment ease some of the tension still clinging to her.

For a moment Beth’s smiley gaze lingered on Alfie. But just then, a soft sound—almost like a faint hum—drifted in through the window. A car, pulling into the driveway. Her smile faltered slightly as she glanced toward the window, her heart skipping a beat.

Viv noticed and gently placed a hand on her arm. “It’s them,” she said softly, her voice reassuring. “Just breathe. They’re going to love you. Just be yourself. They’ll see how amazing you are, just like I do.”  She leaned in and kissed the top of Beth’s head, a silent promise of support.

The doorbell rang, the sound slicing through the quiet of the house, and Viv’s heart skipped a beat. She glanced at Beth, who now had Alfie safely cradled in her arms, and nodded toward the door.

“Here we go,” Viv said, her voice steady but betraying just a hint of excitement.

Beth took a deep breath, her nerves palpable again, but she gave Viv a small, reassuring nod. "Let’s do this," she said, the words laced with both hope and resolve.

As they made their way to the door, Alfie wiggled in Beth’s arms, eager to see who was on the other side. Viv’s hand found Beth’s, squeezing it once more before opening the door to her parents.

The door swung open, and there they were — Viv’s parents, standing on the doorstep with warm, but somewhat tentative smiles. Her mother, Carolien, had a soft but observant look in her eyes, and her father, René, gave a small wave, his hand stiff in the cool evening air.

“Hi, Mum, Dad,” Viv greeted them, her voice bright but tinged with an unmistakable undercurrent of nerves. “Come on in.”

Carolien stepped forward first, her arms open for a quick hug, while René followed, his movements a little slower, more reserved. Viv stepped back, giving them room to enter, and then she turned to look at Beth, who was holding Alfie just a little tighter now.

“Beth, this is my mum, Carolien,” Viv said, her voice steady, though there was a slight tremble to it as she gestured toward her mother. “And my dad, René.”

Carolien smiled warmly at Beth. “It’s nice to finally meet you properly,” she said, her tone polite, though there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Beth replied, offering a nervous smile as she shook Caroliens hand. It felt like the kind of handshake that was too long and too firm, as if both women were trying to gauge the other’s thoughts.

René, standing just behind Carolien, offered a more reserved greeting. “Hello, Beth,” he said, his voice deep and steady. “Viv’s told us a lot about you. We’ve seen you play, of course.”

Beth nodded, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “Yeah, I’ve seen you at a few matches. It’s nice to finally... meet you like this.”

The words hung awkwardly in the air. Beth had met Viv’s parents a few times in passing at games, but it was always in a professional context. This was different. This was personal. And though she and Viv had something going on for months now, this was the first time Beth would truly be seen as Viv’s girlfriend by her family.

Alfie, who had been bouncing around the room just moments before, was now really quiet. Beth felt the change immediately. His little body shifted when the doorbell rung, his energy now replaced by a nervous stillness. His tiny hands reached up to her, seeking comfort as he buried his face against her chest with a soft, almost hesitant, “Mum-mum.”

Viv's mother slowly walked to Beth and Alfie, her voice soft and inviting as she gently reached out, trying not to startle him. “Hey, Alfie,” she said, offering a warm smile, but keeping a bit of distance at first. “You’re getting so big, aren’t you?” She let her hand hover near him, giving him space, before adding, “We’re going to have so much fun together tonight, whenever you’re ready.”

Alfie peeked out from behind Beth’s shoulder, his wide blue eyes flicking nervously between Carolien and René. He was still for a moment, unsure how to react to the new faces. His usual playful, bounding energy had melted into shyness, and Beth’s heart went out to him. She knew the feeling — a mix of wanting to connect but also feeling overwhelmed by the unfamiliar.

“It’s okay, buddy,” Beth whispered, her voice soft, trying to reassure him. “They’re nice, remember? Just like Vivi.”

Alfie clung to her a little tighter, still unsure, and Beth’s instinct was to shield him, though she knew he’d need time to adjust, just like she had.

René cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over the room. “So, Viv told us you two have been together for... a while now?” His tone wasn’t unkind, but it carried an edge of formality, as if he was still processing the reality of his daughter’s relationship.

Viv tensed, her hand finding Beth’s for just a moment before she released it. “Yeah, we’ve been officially together for almost a month now,” she said, her voice a bit quicker than usual. “But we’ve been... seeing each other for longer. It’s not all brand new,” she added, her tone light but a little defensive. She forced a smile, trying to smooth things over. “We’ve just been taking things slow, figuring out what works for us.”

“Right,” Carolien replied, standing back up and glancing between the two women. “Well, it’s good to see you happy, Viv. That’s what matters most, isn’t it?”

Beth nodded in agreement, though she could tell Carolien was holding back more than she was letting on. Viv’s mother was polite, but there was something in the way she looked at Beth that made it clear she was trying to understand her — trying to place her in Viv’s world.

René, on the other hand, was more direct. “And, of course, we know you’re a teammate of Viv’s,” he said, his gaze resting on Beth with a little more intensity. “It must be... an interesting dynamic, playing together and being together.”

Beth felt a twinge in her chest, her nerves kicking back in full force. She had been asked about this before — how it felt to be in a relationship with someone she worked with. But hearing it come from Viv’s dad felt different. It felt like more of a test.

“It can be,” she said carefully, choosing her words with precision. “But we’ve got a good rhythm. We respect each other as teammates, and then... as more than that, too.”

Carolien smiled again, it was a little less forced this time. “I’m glad to hear that,” she said, her voice softer now. “It’s not always easy, sharing such an intense part of your life with someone else.”

Beth glanced at Viv, who was watching her with an expression that was half supportive, half worried. This wasn’t easy, and it was clear that Viv was trying to gauge how her parents were reacting. It was as if she was holding her breath, waiting to see if they would accept this new chapter in her life.

“So,” Viv’s father continued, shifting the topic ever so slightly, “how about we all sit down? I’m sure we’re all hungry. We’ve got some wine, and your mother has prepared something nice — she made dinner earlier at the house we are staying and brought it with her. It just needs a little time in the oven to warm up.”

Viv nodded quickly. “Yes, dinner sounds perfect.”

She stood up, shooting Beth a quick, reassuring smile. “I’ll just pop this in the oven,” she said, moving toward the kitchen. She carefully took the casserole, wrapped in foil, and slid it into the oven, making sure it was set to just the right temperature.

Beth managed a small smile as Viv’s parents began to settle into the dining area. Alfie, still nestled in Beth’s arms, squirmed a little, clearly curious about the new environment. As they took their seats, Viv returned from the kitchen, sat down next to Beth and placed a hand on Beth’s knee under the table, a small but meaningful gesture. It was her way of saying, We’ve got this.

---

Dinner was served, and the small dining table quickly filled with food, laughter, and just a touch of awkwardness. Beth sat next to Viv, her fingers wrapped nervously around her wine glass. Alfie, who had been unusually quiet since they’d sat down, was now perched in his high chair, his attention fixed on the food in front of him. The first few minutes were a blur of polite chatter about the weather, Arsenal’s recent matches, and vague pleasantries that only seemed to make the silence more noticeable.

“So, Beth,”  Carolien said, her voice breaking through the quiet tension, “how long have you been playing for Arsenal now? Viv’s told us a bit, but I’d love to hear it from you.”

Beth stiffened for a moment, the question catching her off guard. She had been expecting something a little more personal, but maybe this was the safe route. She forced a smile, adjusting in her chair as she set her wine glass down.

“Uh, yeah, it’s been... a few years now. This is my fifth season with the team,” Beth said, trying to sound casual. She glanced over at Viv, who was looking at her with a subtle smile of encouragement. “It’s been a crazy journey, actually. Lots of ups and downs, you know? But it’s... it’s what I love doing.”

“Sounds like a lot of pressure,” René added, his eyes narrowing slightly as he set his fork down. “How do you manage to juggle everything? I mean, with your career and... well, this little boy.” He nodded toward Alfie, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

Beth blinked, her nerves kicking back in. “It’s definitely challenging,” she said, carefully choosing her words. “But I think when you love something enough, you just... find a way to make it work. You know?”

René nodded thoughtfully, his gaze flicking briefly between Beth and Alfie. “I can see that,” he said, his voice softening a little. “Must be a lot to handle.”

Beth gave a small nod, grateful for his understanding, though her nerves were still gnawing at her. “Yeah, some days are harder than others,” she admitted. “But it’s worth it. Every moment of it.”

Viv reached over and gave Beth’s hand a reassuring squeeze, her touch grounding in the midst of the tension. “I’ve seen it,” she said, her voice warm. “Beth’s got this... she’s incredibly good at making things work, even when it seems like a lot.”

René raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “That so?” His voice was casual, but there was a hint of respect in it now.

Beth felt herself relax just a little more. “I’ve learned how to balance things, I guess,” she said with a slight smile. “You just get used to the chaos.”

Carolien smiled at Beth, this time with more warmth than before. “I can see why Viv speaks so highly of you,” she said kindly. “You seem to have a lot of heart in what you do.”

Beth gave a grateful smile, but her cheeks flushed slightly, her awkwardness slowly returning. “Uh... thanks,” she said, clearing her throat a little. “I... I try my best.”

Viv, sensing the shift, gently rubbed the back of Beth’s hand, offering a soft, understanding glance

Just as Beth was starting to feel the weight of the conversation pressing in on her, a small distraction came from the corner of the table. Alfie, who had been quietly munching on his mashed potatoes, suddenly made his move.

In one swift motion, his little hand shot up, and before anyone could react, his cup of water tipped over, spilling its contents in an impressive arc. It cascaded across the table, splashing onto Caroliens lap with a dramatic splat.

Beth froze, her eyes widening in surprise, while Viv let out a soft gasp. For a moment, the room was still, and then, a burst of laughter escaped from Viv’s mother, quickly followed by the rest of the table. The tension in the air broke, and Beth let out a relieved chuckle, grateful for the unexpected interruption.

Beth grabbed a napkin and reached across the table to wipe up the mess. “I’m so sorry, Carolien, I didn’t—” She hesitated, then laughed nervously. “Well, I guess he’s just... making himself known, huh?”

Viv’s mother looked down at her wet lap and then at Alfie, who was now grinning up at her with big, innocent eyes, and let out another laugh. “Well, I guess that’s one way to break the ice,” she said, dabbing at her lap with a napkin, still chuckling.

Beth’s awkwardness melted away as the tension dissolved, her face softening into a smile. "It’s just like him, really," she added, her voice lighter now. “Always keeping things interesting. I swear, he didn’t mean it,” she said, giving Alfie a playful scolding glance, though she couldn’t help but smile at his joyful, carefree nature.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Carolien said, her tone warmer now. “It’s just water. And honestly, I should’ve expected it. You know what they say about toddlers.”

Renée chuckled, “A bit of chaos is good for the soul. Keeps things interesting.”

Alfie, who had gone from nervous to mischievous in a split second, was now waving his hands around, as if showing off his ‘accomplishment.’

Viv shook her head with a grin, her eyes moving from Alfie to her mother. “Honestly,” she said, “you wait all evening for him to warm up, and then he turns the place into a circus within five seconds.”

Alfie, encouraged by the laughter, waved his arms even more dramatically and knocked his spoon to the floor with a loud clatter. Everyone laughed again —this time without hesitation.

“See?” Viv added with a smirk. “Full chaos mode, activated.”

“I promise, he’s not always this chaotic,” Beth said, still laughing a little. “But he’s certainly got a lot of... personality.”

René chuckled as he reached for his wine glass. “Well, he’s got good timing. Knows when to steal the show.”

Carolien gave Alfie a fond look as he reached again for his fork with exaggerated care. “He’s got personality, that’s for sure,” she said. “And a good sense for comic relief.”

“Gets it from his mum,” Viv said, nudging Beth gently with her knee under the table.

Beth smiled, cheeks a little pink but heart lighter than it had been all evening. She looked over at Alfie, who was now humming softly to himself, entirely unbothered by the commotion he’d caused.

The conversation shifted after that, growing more natural, more relaxed. Viv’s parents started to ask more about Beth — about her life, her childhood, and her experiences as a footballer. The questions weren’t as guarded now, and Beth found herself sharing stories about growing up, about the small-town life she’d left behind, and the hurdles she’d overcome to get where she was.

Viv didn’t say much — not with words — but her presence was constant. She sat close, one hand resting gently on Beth’s knee under the table, her thumb tracing small, absentminded circles. And every so often, when Beth looked her way, Viv would meet her gaze with a soft, encouraging smile.

---

After dinner, the table had been cleared, and Alfie was happily immersed in his toys on the living room rug. His quiet hums and the occasional clatter of plastic blocks filled the room.

Viv’s parents sat on the couch, wine glasses in hand, their posture loose now — the stiffness from earlier replaced by something closer to ease. The conversations had grown more relaxed, even playful at times, though an undercurrent of curiosity still lingered beneath the surface.

Beth sat on the armrest beside Viv, one leg tucked under the other, casually leaning in as her fingers brushed the fabric of Viv’s sleeve. Viv sat back, quiet for a moment, her eyes following the motion of her parents, but her mind clearly elsewhere.

Her parents seemed to have settled in, but their curiosity about the relationship between Viv and Beth still hung around like an unanswered question.

It was a quiet moment before Viv, who had been quietly observing her parents, suddenly spoke up.

“You know,” she said, her voice soft but steady, “Beth has been in my life for a long time now. We’ve shared a lot — good days, bad ones, wins, losses. But somewhere along the way, it became more than that.”

She glanced at Beth, then back to her parents. “It’s a bit new. But it is real. And it is important to me. And I just... I wanted you to hear that from me.”

Beth’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden change in tone. She knew this moment was coming, and though she had hoped it would go smoothly, there was always a part of her that felt uncertain.

Viv looked at her parents, her gaze steady but with an emotion in her eyes that was almost vulnerable. “She is not just a teammate. She’s not just someone I’m seeing. She’s someone I want to be with. For the long haul.”

Carolien’s eyes softened, but there was a flicker of caution there — a mother’s instinct, perhaps. “Viv, darling, of course we can see how much you care for each other. But…” She hesitated, glancing at René before continuing, her voice carefully measured. “It’s a big step, isn’t it? This isn’t just a relationship between two people — there’s a child involved. And you’re both in the spotlight.”

Beth tensed slightly, unsure how to respond. She was used to navigating pressure, but hearing it voiced so plainly — especially in the context of Alfie — made her stomach tighten. Viv noticed, and without a word, placed a steady hand on Beth’s knee.

“I get that, Mum,” Viv said, her tone calm but firm. “We’ve talked about all of this. I know what it means — not just being with Beth, but being part of her and Alfie’s life. And yes, it’s a lot. But we’re in this together. I’m not taking it lightly.”

René, who had been quiet until then, leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. “We trust your judgment, Viv. But being part of a child’s life — especially when they’re not your own — that’s a responsibility that doesn’t come with clear rules. We just want to be sure you’ve thought about what that really means.”

Beth swallowed, the words catching a little in her throat. “I know it’s not simple,” she said softly. “Alfie is my son. He’s my whole world. But Viv’s become part of that world too. Not because she has to — because she wants to. And I see what that means every day.”

Caroliens gaze softened as she took in Beth’s words. It was clear that the weight of her concern had shifted slightly. “We can see how much you care, Beth,” Carolien said gently. “It’s just... it’s a lot to take in all at once.”

Viv nodded in understanding, her hand tightening around Beth’s. “I know it is, Mum. But I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I’m happy. I love them. Both of them. And I’m here for the long run. And I just want you to see how happy Beth makes me, how good she is for me.”

René glanced at Carolien, his expression held a hint of softness now. He looked at Beth for a long moment, then at Viv, and finally spoke.

“I can see that you two are happy,” he said quietly. “And I suppose that’s what matters most in the end. We just want you both to be careful. Relationships take time, they take work, and I think you both know that. But if you’re serious about this... we want you to be happy.”

Beth felt the weight of René’s words settle in the room. There was no judgment in his voice, just a father’s cautious hope. She swallowed again, feeling a mixture of gratitude and a hint of relief.

“I appreciate that,” Viv said, her voice steady. “I really do. And I promise, we’re not rushing this. We’ve been through a lot together, and we know it won’t be easy. But we’ve got each other, and we’ve got Alfie. And that’s a pretty good place to start.”

After the conversation, the atmosphere had noticeably shifted. The weight that had hung in the room earlier was gone, replaced by a more relaxed and easy-going energy. Alfie entertained everyone with his endless energy, his little jokes, and his unexpected moments of wisdom, making everyone smile.

The evening had unfolded like a comfortable rhythm, with laughter and good conversation flowing easily between them all. Alfie, now sleepy but still clinging to the last moments of his energy, had long since quieted down. Viv, too, seemed relaxed, her usual playful spark softened into contentment as she sat next to Beth. The glow from the dimmed lights and the warmth of the wine made everything feel just right.

As the conversation slowed and the last of the wine was poured, Carolien was the first to rise from the couch, stretching slightly with a quiet yawn. "Well, this was a lovely evening," she said, her voice carrying a tone of warmth mixed with a hint of tiredness, the kind that came after a good meal shared in good company.

Viv’s parents exchanged a look, the familiarity between them evident. As the silence settled over the room, they both stood, and the moment of shared comfort seemed to linger for just a beat longer before Carolien spoke again, her smile wide and genuine. "We should probably let you two get to bed, and let little Alfie get some rest."

Beth smiled at Viv's parents as she stood up from the couch, holding Alfie gently in her arms. "Thank you again for everything," she said, her voice warm and sincere. "It was really nice to spend the evening with you both."

"You're very welcome," Carolien said, her voice filled with affection. "It was a lovely night."

René nodded, his tone more grounded but still kind. "Take care of each other. And Alfie," he added with a wink, "he's got a good heart."

Beth smiled back, her heart warming at the thought of their approval. "We will, I promise."

Alfie, still half-asleep in her arms, gave a small wave to Viv's parents. "Night!" he mumbled in his sleepy voice, his head resting on Beth's shoulder.

Viv chuckled softly, stepping closer to them to give them both a hug. "Goodnight, Mum. Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Carolien replied, giving Viv a gentle kiss on the cheek. "We’ll see you soon."

With one last shared look between the four of them, Viv's parents made their way out the door, leaving Beth and Viv standing there together.

Beth turned to Viv, her expression a mix of exhaustion and contentment. "Alright, little man," she whispered to Alfie, adjusting him so he was more comfortably cradled in her arms. "Let's get you to bed."

Alfie’s eyes fluttered open, his small hand gripping onto her shirt. "Vivi's bed?" he asked sleepily.

Beth nodded. "Yes, it’s time for your special bed at Vivi’s house." She smiled, giving Viv a playful look over her shoulder.

Viv smiled warmly, stepping forward to kiss Beth on the cheek before giving Alfie a soft pat on the head. "Goodnight, Alf," she said quietly, watching as Beth walked toward the guest room where a small bed had been set up for Alfie.

The room was cozy, with a soft nightlight casting a gentle glow across the walls. Alfie, still sleepy, gave a small yawn as Beth lowered him into his bed, pulling the blanket up around him.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Beth murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. "Sleep tight."

Alfie smiled lazily, his eyes already closing as he murmured, "Night, Mummy."

Beth smiled and kissed his forehead before quietly leaving the room, closing the door behind her. She walked back into the living room, where Viv was waiting for her.

Viv smiled as soon as she saw her. "How is he?" she asked softly.

"Asleep already," Beth replied with a tired but happy smile. "He was ready for bed, that’s for sure."

Viv stepped closer and wrapped her arms around Beth, pulling her into a gentle hug. "You did great," she whispered.

Beth rested her head on Viv's shoulder, savoring the warmth of her embrace. The evening had been full of so many emotions, from the light-hearted moments to the more serious conversations with Viv’s parents. A small sigh escaped her lips as she pulled back just enough to look at Viv, her fingers tracing the edge of Viv’s sleeve absentmindedly.

"That went... better than I expected," Beth said quietly, a small smile playing at her lips. She was still processing the weight of the conversations, but there was a sense of relief now, knowing Viv’s parents had listened with open hearts.

Viv leaned in and kissed Beth softly on the forehead, a tender gesture that felt like a promise, quiet and lasting.

Beth smiled at the warmth of Viv’s kiss, her heart settling a little more as she pulled back, meeting Viv’s gaze. The evening had been a rollercoaster. But now, with the night winding down, it felt like the air had cleared.

Viv reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of Beth’s hair behind her ear, her touch soft. “You okay?” she asked, her voice low, the concern there even after everything had calmed.

Beth nodded, the weight of the evening lifting with each passing moment. “Yeah,” she said with a small smile. “It’s just... a lot to process. But I think it went well. Your parents are great, Viv. They’re just... protective, as any parents would be. I get that.”

Viv’s lips curved upward in a fond, knowing smile. “They’re always a bit cautious, but I’m sure they liked you. You’re hard not to like, after all.”

“You’re sure they like me?” Beth asked, half-smiling, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

Viv turned to face her, her expression sincere and comforting. “Beth... I’m sure. I think they just needed to see how much you mean to me. And I think they’re getting there. Honestly, I think they already know you’re perfect for me.”

Beth chuckled softly, feeling a wave of warmth at Viv’s words. “Perfect, huh?”

“Perfect,” Viv repeated, her voice certain, and she leaned in to kiss Beth gently, their lips meeting in the quiet of the room.

Viv pulled back slightly, her arms still wrapped around Beth’s waist. "Ready to call it a night?" she asked, her voice low and soothing.

Beth nodded, giving her a soft smile. "Yeah. I think it’s been a long day."

Together, they made their way down the hall, the soft creak of the floorboards beneath their feet the only sound. As they entered Viv’s bedroom, familiar warmth surrounded them.

Viv flicked off the bedside lamp, and the room was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains. She climbed into bed first, sliding under the covers, and patted the space beside her. "Come here," she said, her voice gentle.

Beth followed, shedding her clothes with quiet efficiency before sliding into the bed beside Viv. As she settled in, Viv curled up closer, draping one arm over Beth’s waist and resting her head on her shoulder. Beth sighed, letting herself relax into the embrace, feeling the weight of the day finally start to lift.

For a moment, they simply lay there, the silence between them comfortable, warm. Beth could feel the gentle rise and fall of Viv’s breath, the steady rhythm that brought a sense of calm to her own racing thoughts.

Viv’s voice broke the quiet. "I’m glad you’re here, you know," she murmured, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on Beth’s chest.

Beth smiled softly, her fingers brushing Viv’s hair out of her face. "Me too," she whispered. "I’m glad I’m here too."

As the minutes passed, Beth’s eyes grew heavy, and Viv’s breathing became more even, the gentle lull of sleep drawing them both in. Beth kissed the top of Viv’s head softly, murmuring, "Goodnight, love," before finally letting herself drift off, wrapped in the warmth of Viv’s embrace.

[meadematales]

🌟 Character profile: Alfie🌟

👶🏼Full name: Alfie James Mead

🎈Birthday: March 6th (2021)

👩🏼‍👦🏼 Parents: Beth Mead (mother) — father unknown to the public.

🧬Hair: slightly curly, blonde

👁️Eyes: Blue, often wide with curiosity

🤰🏼 Origin & Background Alfie is the result of a one-night stand that Beth had during a time when she had just recovered from an injury and was feeling a bit lost. The father is not in the picture — that was also Beth’s conscious choice after it turned out he didn’t want to play a role in the child's life. That decision, though difficult, shaped her into a fiercely present and loving mother. Their life together before Viv was one of tender routines, silly songs at breakfast, and quiet strength.

💛 Personality Alfie is a cheerful, imaginative, and sensitive child. He is very good at picking up on moods, especially with Beth — and later also with Viv. He has a small internal radar for tension and often responds instinctively by offering comfort, even if he doesn’t fully understand why.

He has an early sense of humour — he giggles at silly voices, mimics animal sounds, and is known to wear mismatched socks on purpose, claiming “they friends.”

🎨 Favorite Activities

Stamp painting with his hands — the messier, the better.

Climbing into big cardboard boxes — yells “It’s a rocket ship!” every time.

Listening to music with Viv — she plays him old-school hits, and he dances like he’s in a music video.

Lift-the-flap books — often tears the flaps by accident.

Color-sorting random objects — socks, toys, paper scraps… until he gets distracted.

Playing hide and seek — always hides in the same spot.

Pretend cooking in his play kitchen — especially loves “making coffee” for Beth and Viv.

Cuddle time — usually after diner or when he’s “a little bit tired but not sleepy.”

🧸 Favorite Objects

His stuffed elephant — named Roffie.

His comfort bedtime blanket — worn soft at the edges.

A raincoat with frogs on it — refuses to take it off, even when it’s sunny. It's perfect for playing in the rain and splashing in puddles.

His wooden train set — one carriage is always missing.

A purple glitter ball — technically not allowed inside, but he sneaks it to the couch.

🌙 Fears

Loud sudden noises (e.g., vacuum cleaners, fireworks, blenders)

Dark rooms without a nightlight — he prefers a soft, warm glow when he sleeps

Separation — even short goodbyes can make him clingy or teary

Big dogs — he’s okay with small, calm ones, but larger barking dogs scare him

People arguing — raised voices or tension in a room make him visibly anxious

Masks or costumes — anything that hides a face can upset him, especially if unexpected

Getting lost — in crowds or unfamiliar places, he grips Beth or Viv’s hand tightly

[meadematales]

~Drawn Together~

The path to us - chapter 9 ➡️Masterlist

--January 26, 2023--

Beth’s apartment had become Viv’s second home over the past few weeks. It wasn’t uncommon for Viv to come over after training, sharing dinners, helping with Alfie, and eventually spending nights together—whether watching movies on the couch or, on rare occasions, in the quiet solitude of Beth’s bed, where they’d talk for hours about everything and nothing at all.

Viv had become incredibly close to Alfie too. Alfie had a way of curling into her, grinning up at her with those big eyes, and in return, Viv had fallen for him just as hard.

But still, there was something hanging between her and Beth, something unsaid. Neither of them had ever officially named what they were. Neither of them had taken that final step to say, Yes, this is us. We’re together. We’re a couple.

Viv sat on the couch, legs curled up beneath her, her thoughts drifting between the comfort of the present and the weight of the past. Beth was in the kitchen, humming softly as she was doing the dishes. Alfie had been put to bed a long time ago. He is peacefully asleep, curled up under the blanket in his little bed and every now and then you could hear him stir through the baby monitor.

Viv heard Beth’s footsteps approach, her silhouette appearing in the doorway. Beth leaned against the frame, her face bathed in the soft light from the kitchen, and for a moment, Viv couldn’t help but let herself admire the woman she had grown so fond of.

Beth’s eyes softened as she met Viv’s gaze, her expression unreadable for just a moment. The air between them felt heavy, like both were waiting for something.

“Hey,” Beth said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

“Hey,” Viv replied, her tone a little hesitant.

Beth walked over and sat down beside her on the couch, a small smile playing on her lips. She had always been easy-going with Viv, but now, there was a quiet uncertainty to the way she sat next to her, the way her fingers brushed against Viv’s, as if she, too, was waiting for the other to make the first move.

Viv couldn’t stand the silence any longer. “Beth… I don’t know—  I mean, I feel like I’ve known for a while that you and I…—"

“Viv, —”  Beth cut in, her voice calm but steady. “It’s not that I don’t know what this is. I just—”

She paused, clearly searching for the right words. “It’s just been so complicated. You know what happened with the media circus and everything around Alfie’s father… It’s messy, Viv.”

Viv nodded, her heart tightening as she thought back to everything Beth had been through. The media frenzy that had followed her one-night stand with Alfie’s father, the headlines that had painted her as just another scandal, just another woman who’d made a mistake. And through all of that, Viv had been there for her. She had been the one to listen to Beth when she felt like the world was judging her, when she felt like no one understood. She had been the constant support, the steady voice of reason when Beth needed it most.

“I know it’s been hard,” Viv said quietly, her thumb gently rubbing the back of Beth’s hand. “I know how much you’ve been through, and I never wanted to add to that pressure. I just… I don’t know. I guess I was waiting for you to say something, and I didn’t want to push. I don’t want to mess this up.”

Beth gave a small, self-deprecating smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I guess I’ve been waiting for you to say something, too.”

Viv chuckled softly, though it was laced with a hint of frustration. “It’s funny, isn’t it? We’re both sitting here, waiting for the other to say what’s already obvious.”

Beth laughed, the sound a little nervous but real. She leaned her head against Viv’s shoulder, closing her eyes for a moment as if seeking comfort in her presence. “Yeah, I guess it is,” she whispered. “I think… I think I’ve been so afraid of making the wrong choice. Not just for me, but for Alfie. Letting someone into his world means more than just dating — it’s reshaping the most important part of his life. And he already adores you, Viv. You’re in his heart, in his routines, in the way he looks for you when something good happens.”

She paused, then let out a quiet breath.

“But if I give this — us — a name, it becomes real. It becomes something I could lose. I’ve made bad choices before. I know what it feels like when something falls apart in public, with people watching, judging. I’ve had to be strong for Alfie every day since the moment I found out I was pregnant. So letting myself want something… letting myself want you… it’s terrifying. Because if I lose that, it’s not just my heart that breaks.”

Viv’s heart swelled with understanding. “Beth, I’m not going anywhere. I care about you, and I care about Alfie. I’m not here for a fling or a quick fix. I want to be here for you, for him… for us. But I can’t do that unless we’re on the same page.”

Beth pulled back just enough to look into Viv’s eyes, her expression earnest, raw. “I want that, Viv. I really do.”

There was a long pause, a quiet understanding passing between them. And then, Viv leaned in, her lips brushing Beth’s cheek in a tender kiss. “I believe you,” she whispered.

They stayed like that for a long time — close, quiet, hands gently laced together on the couch. The tension between them, the uncertainty, had settled into something softer. Not gone, but no longer sharp. It had become a kind of silence that felt bearable. Comfortable, even.

The lights were low, casting a warm, amber glow across the living room. In the distance, they could still hear Alfie’s steady breathing through the baby monitor — rhythmic, peaceful. It grounded them.

Viv’s voice was smaller when she spoke again. “That night the tabloids ran that awful story about you and Alfie’s dad… you didn’t see it, but I wanted to scream for you. Not because I was angry — though I was — but because I couldn’t stand the way they made you feel like you were less than you are. You’re the best mother I’ve ever seen, Beth.”

Beth blinked, eyes wet. “You held me together that week. You came over every night, even when I said I was fine. You never let me feel like I was alone.”

Viv smiled, crooked and unsure. “I didn’t know how to say it then, But I think I can say it now.”

Beth turned to her fully, her fingers brushing gently over Viv’s knuckles. “Say what?”

Viv hesitated, then: “That I love you.”

It was quiet. There was no drama, no swell of music, no perfect lighting. Just the soft creak of the couch, the hush of a baby monitor, and two people sitting close enough to feel each other breathe.

Beth inhaled — sharp, startled, but not afraid. And then she smiled. That quiet, warm smile Viv had fallen for long before she realized she had. “I love you too,” she whispered. “God, Viv. I’ve loved you for a while.”

Viv felt herself exhale all at once. She hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath.

Beth reached up and cupped her cheek, eyes shining but steady. “I didn’t say it because I thought you needed space. Especially after Lisa texted you back then. I thought maybe you weren’t ready, even after you said you wanted to try. But I’ve been feeling it. Every day.”

Viv leaned into her touch, her heart thudding loud but steady. “I think I was just waiting for the moment to feel right. And this… this felt like the right moment.”

Beth didn’t answer with words. She just leaned in and kissed her, slow and certain, it was surely not the first kiss they’d shared — but the first kissed that carried this. The truth of it. The weight and the relief and the joy.

When they finally pulled apart, they didn’t say anything more. They didn’t need to.

Alfie stirred in the other room, murmuring softly in his sleep.

Viv smiled. “Guess we should get some rest.”

Beth reached for her hand again. “Yeah. But… stay here tonight?”

Viv nodded. “Always.”

Beth stood and offered her hand, and Viv followed, neither of them saying much as they moved through the soft darkness of the apartment.

They slipped under the covers in the same rhythm they had so many nights before, but something had shifted. Not in a dramatic way — not in how they touched or how they fell asleep — but in the way their bodies curved toward each other with purpose. With promise.

---

It was sometime deep in the night when Alfie started fussing — not crying, just those soft, restless whimpers that meant he was halfway between dreams and wakefulness. The kind that always made Beth sit up instinctively, even before the monitor crackled.

Without a word, she slipped out of bed and padded down the hallway. A moment later, she returned with Alfie cradled against her shoulder, his eyes still heavy with sleep, fingers tangled in her shirt.

She didn’t hesitate — just lifted the covers and slid back into bed, nestling him in the space between them like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Viv reached out without thinking, adjusting the blanket and brushing his curls gently from his forehead. Alfie sighed, already sinking back into sleep, his tiny hand curling into the fabric of Viv’s shirt like it was a familiar anchor.

Beth settled beside them again, her arm draped loosely around both of them. In the dim grey light filtering through the window, she glanced over at Viv — her smile tired, soft, and full.

Viv met her gaze and smiled back, her fingers resting on Alfie’s small back, rising and falling with each breath.

Within minutes, the room was quiet again. Just the steady rhythm of three people breathing, limbs entangled, sleep pulling them all under once more.

---

The next morning Viv woke up first. Alfie had rolled over in his sleep and was now half-sprawled across her stomach, his curls a soft mess and his thumb still tucked in his mouth.

Beth was still asleep beside them, her hair fanned across the pillow, one arm thrown protectively around both of them. She looked peaceful. Lighter. Viv didn’t dare to move. Not yet.

She simply lay there, wide awake now, feeling the weight of the moment — Alfie’s breath warm against her shirt, Beth’s fingers brushing her wrist in her sleep. It was domestic in a way Viv had never imagined for herself. And it didn’t scare her. It felt… like home.

Later that morning, after pancakes — which Viv had nearly burned because Beth was too busy kissing her neck while she flipped them—, Alfie sat at the kitchen table with a fistful of crayons and the determined focus of a master artist.

“Wha’ you drawing’, Alf?” Beth asked as she passed by with a plate.

“Us,” he said matter-of-factly, not even looking up.

Viv turned from the sink, a sponge in her hand. “Us?”

“Uh-huh.” Alfie jabbed a tiny red crayon into the paper for emphasis. “Mommy. Vivi. Me.”

When Alfie was done, he held up the picture with both hands, a proud little grin lighting up his whole face.

The drawing was crude, of course — three wobbly stick figures, one small, two tall. Viv had bright yellow scribbles for hair. Beth had a big blue smile. Alfie was in the middle, holding both their hands.

Viv stared at it for a moment longer than she meant to.

Beth came up behind her, chin resting on her shoulder, arms circling her waist. “He really loves you,” she whispered.

Viv swallowed. “Yeah. I really love him too.”

They stood there for a while, looking at the drawing, the soft sounds of the radio humming in the background. Alfie had already moved on, now trying to convince a nearby spoon to be an airplane. His giggles filled the kitchen, high and unfiltered.

The rest of the morning passed in slow, sweet pieces. They cleaned up breakfast together, trading soft nudges and inside jokes as they moved around the kitchen. Alfie dragged them into a half-structured game of animals-in-the-zoo-meets-space-adventure, complete with cardboard boxes and socks for “moon rocks.”

By mid-morning, Beth checked the time. “We should head out soon,” she said, glancing at Viv. “Light session today, but Renée will have us running if we’re late.”

Viv gave a groaning nod, but she was already tying her hair up. “Remind me why we do this on weekends again?”

Beth just smirked. “Because it keeps us sane.”

---

Dinner was a low-effort, high-reward kind of meal — something warm and easy that Alfie would actually eat. The three of them squeezed around the kitchen table, Viv in her hoodie, Beth in her favourite oversized tee, Alfie covered in crumbs and applesauce.

The air was full of the soft hum of the radio and the occasional clatter of forks. No big conversations. Just the ease of shared space. Of knowing glances. Of laughter that came quick and quiet.

And then, just as Beth had picked up the last bowl and Viv was reaching for a dish towel, Alfie stood on his chair — wobbly but determined — and made his grand announcement.

“Movie night!”

It came out of nowhere — triumphant, final, like a royal decree. He beamed at them like he’d just invented joy itself.

Viv and Beth exchanged a glance across the table, mid-clean-up, and smiled.

“Well,” Beth said, dramatically wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Nope,” Viv agreed, bending down to pick Alfie from his chair. “Your highness has spoken.”

Alfie beamed, nearly tripping over his own excitement. “Blankets! Popcown!” he shouted over his shoulder as he toddled down the hallway, clearly taking the lead on preparations.

Beth chuckled. “He’s got the agenda down.”

Within fifteen minutes, the living room was transformed.

Blankets were layered across the floor and couch, every pillow in the apartment was somehow accounted for, and Alfie had dragged his stuffed elephant, turtle, and one suspiciously floppy dinosaur into the centre of it all. He called it “cuddle pile.” Viv didn’t dare move any of the plush animals without his explicit permission.

The lights were dimmed except for the warm, twinkling string lights that framed the window. A faint scent of cinnamon from an old candle lingered in the corners of the room. It felt like a pocket of calm in the middle of the world — soft, safe, and small in the best way.

Beth carried in a giant bowl of popcorn. “Okay,” she announced. “Last call for bathroom breaks.”

Alfie ignored her entirely, too busy fluffing the blanket like a tiny set designer. Viv was already scrolling through streaming options, but when Alfie caught sight of the familiar orange clownfish, it was settled. Finding Nemo — again. She clicked play.

They all settled on the couch, Alfie wedged in the middle like the proud captain of a very cozy ship. He had one hand tangled in Viv’s sleeve and his legs stretched out over Beth’s lap. He wriggled into place with a satisfied sigh, then stilled — eyes glued to the screen, mouth slightly open in concentration.

The opening scene was always quiet, almost reverent. Beth glanced sideways at Viv during it, her heart aching a little. Not because of the movie, but because of the way Viv watched Alfie — not just with affection, but with care. With intention. Like he mattered.

Viv must’ve felt the look because she turned her head slightly, their eyes meeting across Alfie’s curls. Beth’s breath caught. Just for a second. Then Viv smiled — soft, content — and turned her attention back to the film.

About ten minutes in, Alfie started narrating.

“Sad fish,” he whispered solemnly.

“Yeah,” Beth said gently. “He’s trying to find his baby fish.”

“Needs hwelp.”

Viv tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “He gets help. From a blue fish.”

Alfie considered that. Then: “Good.”

He scooted closer to Viv and leaned his head against her side. Viv looked down, startled for just a moment, then wrapped an arm around him, holding him close without thinking. Her fingertips brushed soothing circles over his back.

The popcorn was mostly forgotten. Alfie’s energy burned out little by little — his commentary trailing off into hums and quiet questions, until even those faded. His breathing slowed. By the time Marlin and Dory were riding the East Australian Current, Alfie was fast asleep, his thumb tucked gently into his mouth, the rest of him completely relaxed against Viv.

---

The movie had come to the end— the living room was quiet, save for the low murmur of the credits rolling on the TV and the rhythmic breathing of Alfie, asleep in Viv’s lap.

Beth had noticed the way Viv instinctively adjusted, holding him with such quiet care. Like she’d done it a thousand times. Like she belonged there.

The only light in the room came from the TV screen and the faint glow of the streetlamp outside. Beth was curled into the other corner of the couch, legs tucked under her, a blanket draped loosely over her lap. She hadn’t said anything for a while — just watched them: Viv with Alfie’s head tucked beneath her chin, one hand resting gently on his back. There was something about the sight that made Beth feel like her heart was no longer just hers anymore.

Viv shifted slightly, careful not to jostle Alfie. “Think he’s out for the night,” she murmured.

Beth nodded, smiling softly. “He loves being near you,” she said, not really thinking — and then added, a little more tentative, “He really trusts you.”

Viv glanced down at the sleeping toddler in her arms. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I think I trust him, too.”

It made Beth laugh — gently, quietly. Her eyes flicked to Viv again. “He’s not the only one.”

Viv looked up.

There was a beat of silence. Not awkward — just full.

Viv swallowed. “Can I ask you something?”

Beth tilted her head. “Of course.”

Viv hesitated, her voice dropping to something just above a whisper. “Is this… are we… I mean, I know we’ve sort of been... being something, but we haven’t really... said anything.”

Beth’s lips twitched, her eyes warm. “You mean officially?”

Viv nodded, careful not to shift too much and wake Alfie, who was still curled up fast asleep in her lap, his little hand resting trustingly against her arm. She glanced down at him for a moment, the smallest smile tugging at her lips, before looking back at Beth.

"I just—" she began, her voice softer than usual, touched with something vulnerable. She let out a quiet, almost breathless laugh. "I realized… I’ve been calling you my girlfriend in my head for a while now. I just... wasn’t sure if it is okay to say it out loud."

Beth’s eyes softened immediately, something tender flickering across her face. Her voice was gentle, sure.

"You can call me whatever you want," Beth said, her lips curving into the kind of smile that felt like sunlight after a storm. "But... girlfriend sounds pretty perfect to me."

Viv let out a shaky, relieved laugh, blinking back the sudden sting in her eyes. She tightened her arms around Alfie instinctively, grounding herself in the weight of him, in the steady warmth of Beth sitting there, just within reach.

"Really?" she asked, almost afraid to believe it was that simple.

Beth nodded slowly, her gaze never wavering. "Yeah. Really. I'd... like that,"

Viv reached for Beth’s hand. “Cool,” she said softly, grinning now. “Girlfriend.”

Beth rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “You’re going to say it a lot now, aren’t you?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Viv said. “You’ve got no idea what you’ve just signed up for.”

Beth laughed, the sound quiet but real. “I think I do.”

Viv grinned, a little mischievously, and leaned her head back against the couch.

She glanced sideways at Beth, her eyes glinting with affection. "Beth, my girlfriend," she said in a teasing, sing-song voice.

Beth groaned, but her cheeks flushed pink, and she nudged Viv’s knee lightly with her own. "You’re unbearable," she muttered, though there was no heat in it — only warmth, only happiness.

Viv chuckled under her breath. "You love it," she said, softer now, letting the truth of it settle.

Beth didn’t argue. Instead, she crossed the small distance between them and sank down beside Viv.

Careful not to jostle Alfie, Beth leaned in, resting her forehead gently against Viv’s temple. Their closeness felt natural, inevitable, as if this was always where they were meant to end up.

For a heartbeat, they just breathed together — quiet, steady, sure.

Then Beth turned her head slightly, her lips brushing a feather-light kiss against Viv’s temple.

Viv smiled, a soft, dazzled kind of smile. She shifted just enough to nudge her nose against Beth’s cheek and whispered, “Yeah... you definitely know what you signed up for.”

[meadematales]

~I Think I Need You~

The path to us - chapter 6 ➡️Masterlist

--November 30, 2022--

Viv is in her apartment. The light streams in through the partially opened blinds, casting thin stripes across the living room floor. The only sounds are the occasional traffic noise from the street below and the soft hum of the refrigerator.

Viv stands by the window, looking out at the busy city below, her arms crossed over her chest. She hasn’t been able to shake the feeling that something’s been off for the past few days. The tension between her and Beth has only grown, and the more Viv tries to ignore it, the louder it gets in her mind. She knows what she has to do, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

The message from Lisa still haunts her, echoing in her thoughts: We need to talk. Every time she tries to push it aside, it resurfaces with a vengeance, reminding her of the things that weren’t truly resolved. Her heart skips when she thinks about it. That message has thrown her into an emotional whirlwind, a panic.

The months of effort spent moving on, building something new with Beth, now feel so fragile. Was she truly ready for that?

She turns away from the window and walks to her couch, sitting down heavily. Her phone rests on the coffee table in front of her, its screen reflecting her conflicted face. She has been staring at it for what feels like hours, contemplating the message she knows she has to send.

The truth is, Viv has never been good at relationships—romantic or otherwise. She’s built walls around herself for years, not allowing anyone to get too close. Even Lisa, he person she spent years with, had never truly been able to get past the barriers Viv had carefully constructed. But with Beth, it’s different. She wants to let her in. She wants to be open, to share everything. She wants to be vulnerable, to let Beth see the parts of her that no one else ever has.

But that’s the problem, isn’t it? She’s not sure she’s ready for all of it —the depth of it. The feelings that are slowly creeping into her chest, feelings that she can’t seem to control or ignore, are terrifying. They’re unfamiliar, a territory she’s never navigated before, and the fear of getting hurt again looms just as large as the desire to be close to someone.

With a shaky breath, Viv reaches for her phone, the weight of her decision settling on her shoulders. She types out the words, staring at them for a moment before hitting send.

Message to Beth:

"I need to do this on my own. I think it’s best we take some space."

As soon as the message is sent, Viv’s hand trembles, and she quickly places the phone down on the coffee table. She leans back on the couch, closing her eyes as the reality of what she’s just done sinks in. The pit in her stomach grows, and she feels a tightness in her chest. She knows this is the right decision, that it’s what she has to do. But why does it hurt so much?

She’s been telling herself for weeks that she doesn’t deserve the kind of connection she’s been building with Beth. That she’s too messed up, too broken, to give anything real to anyone. Especially someone like Beth—someone who has it all together, who has already proven she’s strong and capable, someone who doesn’t need this kind of mess in her life.

Yet, there’s a part of her that knows she’s not being fair to Beth. There’s a part of her that wants to keep the connection, to explore whatever this is that’s growing between them. But Viv is afraid. Afraid of getting hurt, afraid of letting Beth down, afraid of the vulnerability that comes with really opening up.

She sighs, running her hand through her hair. Her mind races as the weight of the situation presses in on her. She could just call Beth, explain herself, maybe tell her everything she’s been feeling. But Viv isn’t sure she knows how to do that. She doesn’t even know how to feel right now. All she knows is that she needs space. Space to figure out her own emotions, her own boundaries, and whether or not she’s capable of truly letting someone in.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the soft buzz of her phone. It’s a message from Beth.

Message from Beth:

"Okay, Viv. I’ll respect that. Take care of yourself."

Viv stares at the message for a moment. The coldness of the words stings more than she expected. It feels final. A line has been drawn, and Viv knows that things might never be the same after this.

She closes her eyes again, her heart aching. She wants to believe she’s doing the right thing, but she’s not sure anymore. She wanted to protect herself, to keep her walls up. But what if she’s pushing away the one person who could truly help her break them down?

Viv stands up abruptly, pacing across the room, her hands shaking slightly as she tries to gather her thoughts. She can feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but she quickly wipes them away. She doesn’t want to break down. Not now, not over this.

After a few minutes, she sits back down on the couch, burying her face in her hands. The silence of the room feels suffocating, and for a moment, all she can do is breathe.

She tells herself it’s for the best. That Beth will understand. That this distance will give them both the space they need to figure out who they are—and what they need.

But deep down, Viv knows that this isn’t just about space. It’s about fear. Fear of being seen. Fear of being loved. And fear of loving someone in return.

---

Beth is sitting on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her, staring blankly at the TV that’s been on for hours but hasn’t caught her attention once. Her phone rests on the coffee table, the screen dark, but she knows it’s only a matter of time before she hears the notification—the one from Viv. And when it comes, it strikes harder than she expects.

The message buzzes loudly in the otherwise quiet room.

Message from Viv:

"I need to do this on my own. I think it’s best we take some space."

Beth’s heart drops. The words are simple, almost cold, and yet, they hit her like a punch to the gut. She reads them again, her mind scrambling to process what she’s just read.

She blinks at the screen, as if somehow, if she stares hard enough, the message will change. But it doesn’t. Her fingers hover over the phone, the temptation to reply, to ask why, to make sense of this all, eating away at her. But she knows that the choice is Viv’s, and no matter how badly Beth wants to understand, she can’t force Viv to explain herself.

Beth takes a deep breath, trying to steady her racing thoughts. She knows she should leave it alone, that pressing Viv for answers would only make things worse. Against her better judgment, her fingers move over the screen, typing the words that don’t feel right, but are the only thing she can think to say.

Message to Viv:

“Okay, Viv. I’ll respect that. Take care of yourself.”

She hesitates for a moment, staring at the message as if willing herself to be okay with it.

Beth’s chest tightens, and she leans forward, her elbows resting on her knees. Her heart is racing, and she’s trying to catch her breath, but everything feels too overwhelming. The tears threaten, but she fights them back, swallowing hard. She won’t cry over this. She’s stronger than that.

Yet, she feels the sting of rejection deep in her gut. The bond between them has felt real. There’s been something between them that she’s never felt with anyone before. And now, just like that, Viv’s pulling away.

Alfie, unaware of the storm inside his mother’s heart, looks up from his toys, his big brown eyes searching her face.

"Where Vivi?" he asks innocently, his tiny voice breaking the silence that feels almost suffocating.

Beth blinks, her throat tightening at the sound of his question. She can feel the lump forming in her chest, but she pushes it down. "She... she’s busy, sweetheart," she answers, trying to mask the pain in her voice.

Alfie tilts his head, his brow furrowed. "She come?"

Beth swallows hard, feeling a fresh wave of emotion threaten to overtake her. She doesn’t want to explain the situation to him—not yet, not like this.

"I’m not sure, darling," she says softly, her voice cracking. She smiles weakly, her hand reaching out to smooth his hair back. "But you’ll see her again soon, okay?"

Alfie nods, satisfied with her answer, and goes back to playing with his toys. But the hollow ache in Beth’s chest remains. She can’t bring herself to move, to change anything. All she can do is sit there, feeling utterly helpless.

Beth pulls her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she leans her head against the back of the couch. She stares at the phone again, tempted to reach out to Viv, but she knows it won’t change anything. Viv has made her decision.

As the minutes stretch into hours, Beth tries to distract herself with the mundane tasks of the evening—preparing dinner, cleaning up after Alfie—but none of it feels real. None of it feels like it matters when the one person she’s been leaning on is pulling away.

Beth’s phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a notification from one of the group chats with her teammates, just a casual message from someone wishing everyone good night. She reads it absently, her mind still stuck on Viv, but it brings her a small sense of connection.

She places the phone back on the coffee table, her mind drifting back to the message from Viv. I need to do this on my own.

The words keep echoing in her head, and she’s not sure if she’ll ever understand why. Why Viv felt the need to pull away. Why she couldn’t just let Beth in, just let her help.

But as the silence envelops her once again, Beth knows one thing for sure: she can’t force Viv to come back. All she can do now is wait. Wait for Viv to make the next move—if she ever does.

For now, all Beth can do is try to hold it together for Alfie’s sake. He doesn’t understand, and that’s probably a good thing.

Beth looks down at her son, his face lit up with joy as he plays. She smiles faintly, brushing away the first tear that slips down her cheek. She can’t let him see how broken she feels. Not yet. Not like this.

---

The door of the pub swings open, letting in a cold breeze, but once inside, you’re immediately enveloped by the warmth of the cozy atmosphere. The soft glow of hanging lights reflects off the wooden tables, and the scent of freshly poured pints and roasted food fills the air. The sound of laughter and animated conversations mixes with the occasional clink of glasses. It’s the kind of place where everyone can let their guard down, far from the pressures and pace of daily life.

Beth stands near the door, her fingers nervously tapping against the side of her glass as she waits for the rest of the team to arrive. She hadn’t wanted to come, not with the emotional chaos that’s been brewing in her life over the past few days. But the team had insisted—Leah, in particular, had made it clear that this outing was important for team morale, and Beth knew better than to make waves.

She watches as a few of her teammates trickle in, greeting each other with hugs and playful jabs. Her mind keeps drifting back to Viv and the message she had received from her. I need to do this on my own. The words echo, loud and clear in her head.

She’s so lost in thought that she barely notices Viv walking in until she’s standing right beside her.

Viv’s presence hits Beth like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, she can’t breathe. Viv looks casual, dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans, but there’s a tension in the air around her, a distance that feels too noticeable. She smiles politely at Beth, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Hey," Viv says, her voice soft, almost cautious. "Glad you made it."

Beth forces a smile, nodding slightly. "Yeah, wouldn't miss it," she says, though the words feel empty as soon as they leave her mouth.

The awkward silence stretches between them, and Beth feels her stomach tighten. She looks away, focusing on a small group of teammates laughing at a table nearby. Viv, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, follows her gaze. For a moment, neither of them speaks.

Renée, the coach, enters with her usual exuberant energy, clearly eager to set a positive tone for the evening. “Alright, alright, ladies! Let’s grab a seat and get some drinks!” she calls out, clapping her hands to grab everyone’s attention.

The group shuffles toward a large table in the back corner, and Beth follows with Viv not far behind her. As they all settle in, Renée claps again. “Alright, let's get the evening started with a toast! To teamwork, to victories, and—" She gives a playful glance at the women around the table, “—to unforgettable memories. Cheers!”

Everyone cheers, their glasses raised in unison. Beth takes a sip of her drink, her mind still drifting. It’s hard to focus on the celebrations when everything inside her feels so heavy. She glances over at Viv again, but this time Viv’s gaze is elsewhere, distracted by one of the other teammates.

The conversation around the table flows easily, and Beth tries to lose herself in it. But she can’t. She feels like she’s on the outside, looking in. Viv’s absence is a shadow, and Beth knows it’s not just physical. The emotional distance is too clear to ignore.

Alfie’s innocent question earlier that week keeps replaying in Beth’s mind. Where Vivi? She wanted so badly to tell him that Viv would be back soon, that everything would be okay. But how could she lie to her son when everything inside her felt so wrong?

As the evening goes on, the noise and laughter around her blur into a dull hum. She’s barely aware of what’s being said, until Viv’s voice cuts through her thoughts.

"You okay?" Viv asks quietly, her tone hesitant.

Beth looks up, startled. Her chest tightens, but she forces a small smile. "Yeah, just... tired, I guess."

Viv nods, her eyes searching Beth’s face as if trying to gauge the truth. For a brief second, the world around them fades into the background, and it feels like it’s just the two of them. But then someone from across the table shouts out, pulling their attention back to the group.

Beth takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I think I need to step outside for a minute,” she says, her voice low.

Viv’s expression shifts, concern flickering in her eyes. “Beth—”

“It’s fine,” Beth interrupts, offering a forced smile. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

She stands and walks away from the table before Viv can protest further, making her way to the back door of the pub. The cool night air hits her immediately, offering some relief to the suffocating feelings swirling inside her. She leans against the brick wall outside, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket. She knows who it is before she even checks—Viv. A message pops up. Beth hesitates before reading it. But curiosity wins. She unlocks her phone, and her thumb hovers over the screen before she reads the message.

Message from Viv:

"We need to talk when you’re ready. I’m sorry."

The words hang there, heavy with meaning. Beth’s chest tightens as a lump forms in her throat. She wants to reply, wants to ask what happened? and why did you pull away? But she can’t. Not now, not here. She needs space to breathe, space to process.

The door opens behind her, and she turns to see Viv step outside, her face unreadable. There’s no going back now. The tension between them is palpable, the space they’ve put between each other growing with every passing second.

Viv walks toward Beth slowly, her eyes never leaving the ground. When she’s close enough, she stops, standing just a few feet away.

“You okay?” Viv asks again, her voice softer this time.

Beth nods, forcing a smile she doesn’t feel. "Yeah. Just... needed some air."

Viv gazes at her for what feels like an eternity before taking a step closer. A heavy silence settles between them, thick with unspoken words. Beth feels the distance that’s grown between them, and although she’s unsure how to close it, she senses that this moment will determine whether it will pull them back together or push them even farther apart.

Before Beth can speak, Renée’s voice rings out from inside the pub, calling for everyone to come back to their seats. Viv glances over her shoulder, and the tension shifts again, just for a moment.

“Guess we better get back,” Viv says quietly, her eyes meeting Beth’s.

Beth nods, but as she turns to head back inside, she feels that familiar ache in her chest. The one that tells her this isn’t over. Not yet.

---

Later that same night, Viv is back at her flat. She stands near the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest, staring out into the night. Her jaw is clenched, the flicker of streetlights outside dancing across her expression — one of conflict, exhaustion, and something close to fear.

A knock sounds at the door.

She doesn’t move at first.

Another knock — this time firmer. A familiar voice calls, muffled but unmistakable.

“Viv, I know you’re in there.”

Viv hesitates, then crosses to the door slowly. Her hand lingers on the handle. She exhales — a sharp breath, as if bracing for impact — and then opens it.

Beth stands on the threshold. Her hair is a little messy from the wind, cheeks slightly pink from the cold, but her eyes — they’re searching, stormy, filled with everything she hasn’t said.

“Hey,” Beth says softly.

Viv opens the door a little wider. “Come in.”

Beth steps in, brushing past her with a cautious glance around. She hasn’t been here since everything started shifting between them. The air is thick with unspoken words.

The door clicks shut behind them.

Beth turns to face her. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Viv nods. “Me neither.”

There’s a pause, the silence hanging between them. Viv’s eyes briefly flick to the empty space beside Beth, and she can’t help herself. “Where’s Alfie?” she asks, her voice quieter than she means it to be.

Beth shifts uncomfortably, her gaze flickering briefly to the floor. “He... he’s staying at a friend’s tonight,” she replies.

Viv nods, a soft sigh escaping her lips, but she says nothing. The question lingers in the air, but neither of them is sure how to fill the silence that follows.

“I need to ask you something,” Beth finally says. Her voice is controlled, but her knuckles are white from gripping the strap of her bag.

Viv gestures slightly, almost helplessly. “Okay.”

“Why did you shut me out?” Beth’s voice cracks slightly on the last word, and she quickly looks down. “Why did you pull away after everything?”

Viv looks away, jaw tightening. “It wasn’t about you.”

“That’s bullshit,” Beth snaps. “Of course it’s about me. About us.”

Viv flinches at the word.

Beth softens, her tone less sharp but no less honest. “You said you needed to do this alone. But you didn’t even give me a chance to understand. You just... cut me off.”

“I panicked.” Viv’s voice is low, almost a whisper. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

Beth steps closer. “Handle what?”

Viv’s shoulders drop. She runs a hand through her hair and finally meets Beth’s eyes.

"Everything. You, Alfie... the way this all suddenly matters to me more than I ever thought it would." She pauses, her gaze dropping to the floor before lifting again. "I’ve spent most of my life convincing myself that I’m fine on my own, that I don’t need anyone. Even with Lisa, someone I was with for years, I kept everyone at arm's length. I thought I loved her, truly did, but now… now it feels like what I’m feeling with you is something completely different. It feels deeper. More real."

She bites her lip, trying to steady her breath. "And then... Lisa’s message. 'We need to talk.'" The words hang heavy in the air as Viv’s expression shifts, eyes clouded with something darker. "I don’t even know why, but it made my heart race. I was terrified. That message... it pulled me right back to all the fear I had when things started to unravel with her. It made me question everything. I know I should’ve handled it better, but it only made me want to shut everything out even more. I didn’t want to feel anything. Because every time I let myself care, something always goes wrong."

Her voice trembles for a moment, and she takes a slow breath before speaking again. "I can’t quite put it into words, but with you, it’s different. I want to tear down the walls I’ve spent years building around myself. I want to let you in, in a way I’ve never allowed anyone before. I want to be vulnerable, to show you parts of me that I’ve kept hidden. But the truth is… I’m scared as hell."

Beth’s breath catches. “So you ran.”

Viv nods slowly. “Yeah.”

Beth looks at her for a long moment. Her voice, when it comes, is thick with emotion. “Alfie asks about you every day.”

Viv’s face twists with guilt. “I didn’t want to hurt him.”

“But you did.” Beth swallows hard. “And me.”

The room falls into silence again. Viv turns away, leaning against the back of her couch, her head bowed. Beth watches her for a moment, then steps forward, closer than before.

“I’m not asking you to have it all figured out,” Beth says gently. “But if you care — if any of this matters to you — you can’t just walk away when things get tough."

Viv doesn’t answer at first. She’s trembling slightly — just enough for Beth to notice.

Then finally, Viv turns around. Her eyes are shining, not with tears exactly, but with something raw, unguarded.

She steps closer to Beth. “I’m scared.”

Beth furrows her brow. “Of what?”

Viv exhales shakily. “That I need you. That this — what we have — matters more than I ever let anything matter before. And that if I lose it... I won’t know how to cope.”

Beth stares at her, speechless. For a moment, she’s frozen.

Then, with barely a whisper, she says, “Say that again.”

Viv’s voice is barely audible. “I’m afraid I need you.”

Beth doesn’t move for a beat, her eyes searching Viv’s face as if trying to understand the depth of the words she’s just heard. The silence between them hangs heavy, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s full of something unspoken, something that’s finally being acknowledged.

[meadematales]

~We Need to Talk~

The path to us - chapter 5 ➡️ Masterlist

--November 20, 2022--

Viv had been sitting on the couch, scrolling absentmindedly through social media, the late afternoon sun casting soft, golden light through her window. The room was cozy, calm—peaceful, even. She had promised herself to take a moment to relax.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, a sharp interruption to the tranquillity. Viv glanced at the screen, recognizing the number immediately; Lisa.

“We need to talk.”

The message was cold, impersonal. No greetings, no context. Just those four words that seemed to burn into her mind.

She stared at it for a moment, feeling the air in the room grow thicker, as if the simple words had drawn a line through the space between her and everything else. There was no warmth in the message, no emotion—it was just business. Practical.

We need to talk.

Viv’s breath caught in her throat, and she quickly set the phone down, almost as if she were afraid of it burning her skin. She stood up, pacing a few steps around the room, trying to shake the heaviness that had settled over her. The message wasn’t a plea, it wasn’t an apology. It wasn’t even a question. It was a demand, and that demand stirred up something she hadn’t felt in a while—uncertainty. Anger. Discomfort. The same cocktail of emotion she’d felt too often in those last few months with Lisa. A conversation where only one voice mattered. Where love started to feel like obligation, and presence came at the cost of peace. She hated that it still had that power over her. That a single sentence could make her question everything again.

Viv sat back down, slowly this time, as if her limbs had aged a decade in a matter of minutes. Her fingers hovered over her phone, but she didn’t reach for it. Not yet.

She needed a moment. Maybe more than one.

A knock on the door startled her. She froze for a moment, unsure of how to feel—relieved? Anxious? She moved toward the door, her thoughts scattered.

When she opened it, Beth stood there, looking casual but still wearing the familiar smile that had come to mean so much over the past few weeks. She seemed completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside Viv.

“Hey,” Beth greeted, holding a small bag of takeout in her hands. “I thought I’d bring you something. We’ve both been working so hard lately.”

Viv nodded absently, stepping aside to let Beth in. She tried to shake off the wave of emotions that had taken over her, but it was harder than she expected. The tightness in her chest didn’t fade.

“Thanks,” Viv said, her voice quieter than usual.

Beth set the bag down on the counter and turned to face Viv, a look of concern crossing her face as she noticed Viv’s distant expression. “Everything okay?” she asked, her tone gentle.

Viv forced a smile, trying to mask her inner turmoil. “Yeah, just... tired. You know how it is.” She shrugged, hoping the words would sound more convincing than they felt.

Beth wasn’t fooled. She stepped closer, her eyes searching Viv’s face. “You sure? You seem... off.”

Viv took a deep breath, her gaze dropping to the floor. She wasn’t ready to talk about it—not yet. She didn’t want to burden Beth with her past, especially not now, when things were just starting to feel good between them. She didn’t want to drag Beth into the mess of her emotions.

“Really,” Viv said, forcing the tension from her voice. “I’m fine.”

Beth hesitated, but then nodded, choosing to let the subject drop—for now. She picked up the takeout bag and began unpacking it, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, I brought tacos. No way to be upset with tacos.”

Viv gave a small, half-hearted laugh, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her mind was elsewhere. The phone message from her ex kept echoing in her thoughts, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of it hanging over her like a dark cloud.

As Beth started to prepare the food, Viv quietly excused herself, walking toward the living room. She needed a moment alone. The last thing she wanted was to be rude to Beth, but the weight of the message was too much to ignore.

She sat down on the couch, the phone still lying there, taunting her. Without thinking, she picked it up again. She stared at the message.

We need to talk.

Viv squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push the emotion away. She couldn’t think about this right now. She shouldn’t be thinking about this. But it was impossible to ignore.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Beth’s voice calling her from the kitchen. “Viv? You okay?”

Viv hesitated, putting the phone back down. She took a deep breath, then forced herself to stand up. She’d deal with this later.

“Yeah,” she called back, her voice strained but steady. “I’m fine. Just needed a second.”

---

Beth stirred her coffee absentmindedly, glancing at Viv over the rim of her cup. Viv had been quiet since they’d sat down, her usual spark missing. There was a distance in the way she sat, her shoulders slightly hunched, her eyes unfocused as they stared out the window, watching the world go by.

Beth had learned to read Viv’s moods by now. It had become second nature to her over the last few weeks—when Viv was distant, when something was weighing on her. But today, Viv seemed closed off in a way that was harder to understand. She was always a bit reserved, but this was different. It was like a wall had gone up between them, and Beth wasn’t sure why.

“You really okay?” Beth asked softly, her tone betraying her concern.

Viv didn’t look at her. She gave a small, non-committal nod, her gaze still fixed outside. “Yeah, I told you I am tired, right?”

Beth frowned, her brows furrowing as she studied Viv. Her voice had sounded flat, almost forced, and she was avoiding eye contact—something that wasn’t like her.

“Tired?” Beth repeated. “You’ve barely said a word all afternoon.”

Viv shrugged lightly, but it was clear from her body language that the conversation wasn’t going where Beth had hoped. “I’m just... thinking. About stuff.”

Beth’s lips pressed into a thin line. “If you want to talk about it... you know I’m here, right?”

Viv finally turned to look at her, offering a weak smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I know, Beth. Thanks.” She paused for a moment, as if she were considering saying something more, but then looked away again. Her fingers traced the rim of her coffee cup absentmindedly.

Beth watched her, a sinking feeling growing in her chest. She could feel it—the emotional distance. And as much as she wanted to press Viv to open up, she didn’t want to push too hard. She didn’t want to make it worse.

“I just don’t get it,” Beth said after a moment, her voice softer now, like she was speaking to herself more than to Viv. “You’ve been acting... different today. Is it something I did?”

Viv’s eyes flickered briefly toward her, but she didn’t respond immediately.

Beth’s heart beat a little faster, a knot forming in her stomach. She hated this feeling—this feeling of being unsure. She hated not knowing what was going on inside Viv’s head. She had grown so used to their easy connection, the way they could talk without pretence. Now, everything felt like it was slipping through her fingers.

“I... don’t think it’s anything you did,” Viv finally spoke, her voice quieter than usual. She lifted her coffee cup, taking a slow sip as she avoided Beth’s gaze. “It’s just... some stuff I’m working through, I guess.”

“Is it about your ex?” Beth asked carefully, though she wasn’t sure if she should. She hated to bring it up, but she needed to understand what was going on with Viv.

Viv’s eyes darkened, and for the briefest moment, Beth could see the wall go up. She tensed, almost imperceptibly, but it was enough for Beth to notice.

“Why do you ask?” Viv’s voice was even, but there was a sharpness underneath, a subtle warning.

Beth hesitated, feeling the air between them grow heavier. “Because... I just want to know if I’ve done something wrong, Viv. You’re pulling away from me, and I don’t know why.”

Viv put her cup down a little too quickly, the clink of porcelain against the table breaking the fragile silence. “It’s not about you, Beth. Really.”

The words hung in the air, and Beth felt the sting of them more than she cared to admit. The room seemed to shrink, the distance between them stretching further as Viv’s gaze returned to the window.

Beth opened her mouth to say something else but stopped herself. She didn’t want to force Viv to explain more than she was ready to. Instead, she nodded, her heart sinking.

“Alright,” Beth said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I just want you to know I’m here. Whenever you’re ready.”

Viv gave a small, tight-lipped smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know. Thanks, Beth.”

---

The air was cool, a slight breeze rustling through the trees. The park, usually a peaceful escape from the bustle of city life, felt almost too quiet now. The tension was thick between Viv and Beth, like an invisible barrier neither of them could break. They had agreed to meet here, in the hope that the open space and fresh air might help ease the heaviness that had settled over their recent conversations. But no amount of fresh air seemed capable of clearing the fog that clouded their dynamic.

Beth sat with her arms folded loosely, leaning slightly forward, her gaze fixed on the ground in front of her. She could hear Alfie’s soft footsteps as he ran around the park, chasing after nothing in particular, his excited energy a stark contrast to the quiet melancholy of the moment. Beth watched him for a moment, the simplicity of his joy almost painful to witness in contrast to the turmoil inside her.

Viv, on the other hand, sat with her arms resting on her knees, her expression distant, her eyes focused on the horizon but seeing little. Every now and then, she glanced at Alfie as he darted around the grass, but her thoughts were far away. Far from Beth. Far from the world they were in.

“Viv,” Beth finally said, her voice breaking the silence, though it felt fragile, as if she were walking on eggshells. “What’s going on with you?”

Viv flinched slightly, as if she’d been startled, but she didn’t turn to face Beth. She let out a slow breath, her eyes flicking briefly in Beth’s direction. “I’m fine, Beth,” she said, her voice soft but carrying a clear, almost rehearsed detachment.

Beth didn’t buy it. “You haven’t been fine for days. You’re... distant.” She paused, her frustration building, her voice growing just a little louder, though still careful not to push too hard. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but it feels like you’re shutting me out.”

Viv’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond immediately. The words Beth had spoken hung in the air, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world had stopped moving. Alfie’s happy chatter and the rustling of leaves faded into the background as Viv turned her gaze toward the park’s walking path, a frown creasing her brow.

“I’m not shutting you out,” Viv said finally, her tone almost defensive, but lacking the conviction it once held. She sighed, then added, “I just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

Beth felt a pang of frustration at Viv’s vagueness. It was like trying to hold water in her hands—no matter how much she reached out, it kept slipping through her fingers. “You don’t have to explain everything, but I don’t want to be in the dark, Viv. I can’t keep guessing. I care about you, and I need to know what’s going on.”

Viv’s head snapped up at that, her eyes meeting Beth’s for the first time since they’d sat down. There was a flicker of something—vulnerability, perhaps, or the edge of frustration—as she met Beth’s gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Viv whispered after a beat. “I’m just…” She stopped herself, as if weighing her words. She trailed off again, her hand brushing against her bag without pulling it closer. Her phone was in there. Lisa’s message. Just four words: We need to talk.

“I got a message from Lisa earlier,” Viv admitted, eyes flicking down. “Just that she wants to talk. Nothing more. But it hit me like a warning bell. Like something’s coming and I don’t know what it is yet. And suddenly all this stuff I thought I’d dealt with—stuff I’d buried—was right there again. Open. Exposed.”

“I don’t know how to let you in right now. I feel like I’ve been dragged through so much, and every time I start to open up, it feels like I’m just… vulnerable. Like I’m putting too much of myself out there.” She bit her lip, then added, “And I don’t know what to do with all of that.”

She paused again, longer this time, and then added, almost like a confession: “What happened with Lisa... near the end, it got heavy in ways I didn’t expect. Not just fights or distance, but the kind of weight that presses down on who you are. I kept giving pieces of myself away, hoping it would fix something, until there wasn’t much left. And that... that is something I promised myself I’d never let happen again.”

Her voice dropped, barely above a whisper. “That one message—we need to talk—it brought it all back. And now I’m scared. Scared that starting something new, with someone who matters, means I’ll lose myself all over again. That I’ll open the door and not know how to close it before I disappear.”

Beth didn’t respond right away, unsure of how to navigate this layer of vulnerability from Viv. She had always known Viv to be strong and composed, but now there was an unexpected fragility to her words, and Beth wasn’t sure if she was supposed to offer comfort or back away and give her space.

Alfie, blissfully unaware of the tension hanging between the adults, waddled over to Viv on unsteady legs and reached up with both hands, his fingers brushing the edge of her sweater. Viv offered a faint smile and instinctively scooped him up onto her lap, her arms wrapping around him out of habit more than thought. She rested her cheek lightly against his soft curls, but her eyes stayed distant—somewhere far away, caught in a storm only she could feel.

Beth watched as Viv held Alfie close, his small hands gripping her sweater, his head nestled against her shoulder. It was the kind of closeness Beth longed to share with her, and seeing it now only deepened the sense that she was still on the outside, standing at the edge of something she wasn’t sure she’d ever be fully invited into.

“I get that,” Beth said after a long pause, her voice quieter now. “But you don’t have to carry everything on your own. You can let me in, Viv. I won’t judge you. I’m here, whether you like it or not.”

Viv didn’t say anything at first. She just looked at Beth, her eyes softening as if seeing her in a new light. It wasn’t the first time Beth had said something like that, but today, it seemed to land differently, like it held more weight.

“I just…” Viv started again, her voice faltering for the first time. “I don’t know how to do this. How to open up. How to trust again. How to… let someone in without feeling like I’m making a mistake.”

Beth reached out, placing a hand on Viv’s arm, offering the smallest gesture of comfort. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now,” she said softly. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Viv’s gaze softened, but she still didn’t fully meet Beth’s eyes. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Beth took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Whenever you’re ready, Viv,” she said quietly. “I’ll be here.”

Viv nodded softly. The silence settled between them once more, but this time, it felt different. It was no longer cold and unyielding. It was… unsure. Fragile.

---

Beth sits on the couch, absently scrolling through her phone. Her mind keeps drifting back to Viv—how distant she’s been, the way she’s started pulling away. It’s been happening for a few days now, and at first, Beth told herself it was just a phase and that Viv just needs some time to get over that message from Lisa. But the more she thinks about it, the more the pieces just don’t seem to fit.

She’s been trying to hold things together, to give Viv the space she thinks she needs, but this… this feels different. Beth feels something’s wrong, and she can’t shake the feeling that it has to do with Viv’s ex, even though she’s been reluctant to confront that possibility.

Alfie, sitting on the floor with his toys, looks up at her, his bright eyes filled with innocent curiosity. He babbles something that Beth can’t quite understand but it brings a soft smile to her face. Still, her smile fades as she thinks about Viv again. She thought they had something real, something that could last, but now, she’s not so sure.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated. It was a notification from Instagram. Without thinking too much about it, Beth unlocked her screen and opened the app, letting her thumb absentmindedly scroll through the feed, more out of habit than curiosity.

Beth pauses mid-scroll, her breath catching as a familiar face pops up on her screen. She hadn’t been looking for it—just mindlessly scrolling—but there it is: a casual selfie, Lisa smiling in the soft glow of city lights. The caption reads, “Had a great time with friends tonight, but still thinking about you. Hope we can talk soon.”

Beth’s stomach twists. She hadn’t meant to see this, but now the words are burned into her mind. The caption feels like a slap in the face. Hope we can talk soon. That was almost the same as the message Viv had received. Even though she knows Viv is really panicking over this message she got from Lisa, this caption feels like a betrayal of everything they’ve been building.

Alfie, noticing the change in his mother’s demeanour, stands up and toddles over to her. He looks up at her with wide eyes, his small hand reaching out for hers. Beth’s gaze drops to him, the pure, uncomplicated love in his eyes pulling her back from the swirl of confusion in her mind. She takes his hand absentmindedly, but her thoughts keep spiralling.

She swallows hard, the lump in her throat growing. She can’t help but feel that Viv is still entangled in her past, in the relationship she had with her ex.

Beth shakes her head, trying to dispel the negative thoughts. But they linger, threatening to consume her. Was she just a temporary distraction? A convenient person to turn to when Viv needed someone to fill the void? The doubt creeps in, settling deep within her chest, making it harder for her to breathe.

Alfie pulls at her hand, and Beth finally looks at him, his innocent face a reminder of the pure connection she shares with him. It’s hard to focus on anything else when he’s looking at her like that—like she’s his whole world.

She takes a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on him. But the knot in her stomach tightens again, and she turns away from him for a moment, pacing to the window. The last thing she wants is to drag Alfie into her emotional mess, but right now, it’s hard to focus on anything but the fear that has been quietly growing inside her.

What if Viv is just using her as a backup? What if Beth has been fooled into thinking there’s something more, when Viv is still not over her ex?

A voice in her head tries to reason with the spiral—she knows that’s not fair. Deep down, Beth knows it’s not like that. She saw it herself, saw the way Viv reacted to Lisa’s message: the panic in her eyes, the way she shut down, how it shook her. That wasn’t the reaction of someone still holding on. That was someone trying not to drown in old wounds.

Beth lets out a shaky breath, trying to steady her thoughts. Alfie tugs at her hand again, and she kneels down to meet him at eye level. His small arms reach up to her, seeking comfort, and for a moment, Beth feels a wave of love and gratitude wash over her. He’s always there, always pure in his affection, never hiding behind walls. Maybe that’s what she needs right now—someone who isn’t afraid to love her, someone who doesn’t have a complicated past that keeps them from moving forward.

Taking a deep breath, Beth stands up again, still holding Alfie’s small hand. “We’ll figure this out,” she mutters more to herself than to him, though she knows the road ahead won’t be easy.

Beth takes another deep breath, her gaze returning to her son, who is now on the floor, focused on stacking his colourful building blocks. His small hands are deftly arranging them, one block on top of the other, the delicate concentration on his face reminding Beth of the simplicity of childhood. There’s something so pure in his world, something that hasn’t been clouded by doubt or the complexities of adult relationships.

Beth sits down beside him, crossing her legs on the floor. Alfie looks up at her, his round eyes wide, and then a small grin spreads across his face. He leans forward, placing a block in her lap as if to share his work with her. It’s a small gesture, but to Beth, it’s a reminder of the simple, unfiltered love they share. He doesn’t ask for anything in return, doesn’t hold back his affection.

Beth picks up the block, turning it in her hands, and for a moment, she forgets about the worries pressing on her heart. There’s something about the way Alfie looks at her—like she’s the safest, most important person in his world. And in that moment, Beth realizes that, no matter what happens with Viv, she will always have Alfie. He’s the one who makes everything feel a little bit more manageable, who brings balance when her life feels off-kilter.

She smiles down at him, her fingers lightly brushing the top of his head. Alfie giggles, his small fingers tugging at the sleeves of her shirt as if to draw her back into his world, the world where everything is simple and innocent. He reaches for another block and holds it out to her, clearly expecting her to help him build his little tower.

Beth chuckles softly, her heart swelling with affection. “Alright, alright,” she says, picking up the block and adding it to the growing stack. “I’m helping, I promise.”

As she continues to play with him, a wave of comfort washes over her. For all the uncertainty in her life, this moment with Alfie is clear, certain, and pure. She doesn’t have to wonder if he’s pulling away or if he’s unsure of her love. He’s right there, in the here and now, offering her the one thing that she needs more than anything else—comfort.

Beth looks down at her son, her heart full, and then glances back out the window. The night is still heavy, but in this small, quiet moment, she feels a sense of peace she hadn’t realized she needed. She’s not sure where things with Viv will go, or if Viv is truly ready to move forward. But for tonight, she’s content. Tonight, she has Alfie, and that’s enough.

Alfie looks up at her again, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Mommy,” he says, in his small voice, his words slurring together as he reaches for another block. “Play.”

Beth laughs softly, her heart softening even more. “Of course, sweetie. We’ll keep playing.”

[meadematales]

~Rumours and Truths~

The path to us - chapter 4 ➡️Masterlist

--October 16, 2022--

The stadium buzzed with energy, the crowd roaring with excitement as the game hit its peak. The lights above the pitch cast long shadows across the field, and Beth could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her heart raced in sync with the thumping of her boots against the turf, but despite the pressure, there was a calm within her. She glanced across the field at Viv, who was fully immersed in the game, her focus sharp and unwavering.

With a quick look to her right, Beth saw Viv in position, her eyes locked on the ball as she sprinted toward the goal. The defenders were closing in, but Beth didn’t hesitate. She made a clean, powerful pass to Viv, the ball zipping through the air like a comet.

Viv was already there, her body in perfect alignment, her muscles coiled with anticipation. Without missing a beat, she controlled the ball with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before, but this time, there was something different about the way she moved. It wasn’t just about skill; it was about trust. This ball had to go in the back of the net.

Viv’s shot was swift, precise, and before the goalkeeper even had time to react, the ball was in the back of the net. The stadium erupted into cheers, and Beth’s heart soared in sync with the sound of the crowd.

Beth couldn’t help but smile, watching Viv throw her arms up in victory, her face lit with the satisfaction of the perfect goal. But it wasn’t just the goal that mattered—it was the way they had worked together to get there. The silent communication, the understanding, the bond that had formed over the past weeks, was there on full display.

Viv turned and ran toward Beth, a grin spreading across her face. There was a flash of something between them, an unspoken connection that no one in the stands could see, but that they both felt. As Viv reached her, she raised her hand for a high five, and Beth met it with enthusiasm. They didn’t need words.

“Nice pass,” Viv called, her voice full of praise, but there was something in her tone that made Beth feel like it was more than just a compliment about the game.

“Right back at you,” Beth replied, her smile widening as the adrenaline of the goal still buzzed through her body.

For a moment, as they jogged back into position, Beth could feel the connection between them grow even stronger. It wasn’t just about football anymore; it was about something deeper, something personal. The last two months they had built something special without even fully realizing it.

The rest of the game passed in a blur. There were more moments of brilliance from the team, but none felt quite as defining as that goal. As the final whistle blew and the match ended, the players gathered in the centre of the field. The cheers from the crowd rang out once more, and Beth felt a rush of pride wash over her.

She and Viv stood together, catching their breath, both of them grinning in shared triumph. The team celebrated, but there was something about the way Beth looked at Viv. It wasn’t just the joy of winning that had her smiling—it was their connection that was impossible to ignore now.

As the team made their way off the field, the media began to swarm, microphones and cameras pointed in their direction. The buzz around the stadium was palpable, with fans chanting their names. Beth and Viv exchanged a glance, both of them feeling the weight of the attention that had started to shift toward them.

The locker room was alive with the vibrant energy of victory. Teammates laughed and congratulated each other, a chorus of praise and banter echoing off the walls. The sound of locker doors opening and closing, and the shuffling of clothes was a comforting background to the adrenaline that was still coursing through Beth's veins. She pulled her shirt over her head, still smiling at the memory of the goal she had helped set up for Viv.

---

Beth was lost in thought when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning, she saw one of the journalists standing near the door with a camera crew, ready to do a quick post-match interview.

“Beth, Viv, can we get a quick word? The fans are already talking about your connection on the field today,” the reporter said, holding up her microphone with a smile.

Beth nodded, her eyes instinctively searching for Viv. As if sensing her gaze, Viv turned around and caught her eye. She smiled, acknowledging the unspoken request.

“Sure, give us a second,” Viv replied, excusing herself from her teammates. She made her way over to Beth, the sound of their laughter fading as they walked toward the reporter.

Beth could see the spark of curiosity in Viv’s eyes, mixed with a hint of discomfort. The media attention had been growing, especially since their perfect collaboration on the field, and it was clear that they were both feeling the weight of it now. Viv was usually so composed under pressure, but this new attention felt different—more personal.

As they stood together in front of the camera, the reporter didn’t waste any time.

“So, ladies, it was an amazing game today. You two have been getting a lot of attention for your incredible synergy on the field. How does it feel to have such a perfect connection?” The reporter’s smile was wide, but there was a gleam in her eye that hinted at deeper curiosity.

Beth could feel the heat of Viv standing next to her, a quiet energy that felt both comforting and electric at the same time. She could tell that Viv was trying to gauge how much to reveal, how much of the connection between them was just for the game and how much of it was personal. Beth smiled, her response easy.

“We’ve been working hard together,” Beth began, her voice calm and steady. “We have a strong understanding of each other’s playstyles, and I think today it just clicked. We’ve been pushing each other in training, and it paid off.”

Viv nodded in agreement, but her eyes flicked toward Beth, a brief moment of vulnerability flashing before she masked it with her usual composure.

“Yeah, I think Beth and I are really starting to get in sync,” Viv added, her voice warmer than usual. “It felt... good to be out there together, knowing we had each other’s backs.”

The reporter didn’t seem to buy it entirely. She leaned in slightly, her eyes narrowing in on them, and the question that followed had a sharper edge.

“That’s great to hear. But I have to ask—do you think this connection is more than just a strong partnership on the pitch? I mean, there’s a lot of buzz about the two of you off the field as well. The way you looked at each other while celebrating that goal. Fans are already speculating about the nature of your bond.”

Beth’s heart skipped a beat. She could feel Viv tense slightly next to her, and for a moment, the playful energy between them seemed to vanish.

Viv, ever the professional, was quick to recover. She smiled politely, but her voice had a touch of coolness to it.

“We’re focused on the game, on our team. Any talk off the field is just speculation. We’ve got a lot more to give as players,” Viv said firmly.

Beth, sensing Viv’s discomfort, nodded in agreement, trying to steer the conversation back to safer ground.

“We’re teammates, first and foremost,” she added. “And we’re just focused on doing our job. We’ll let others draw their conclusions.”

The reporter, sensing that the response wouldn’t give her the juicy details she was hoping for, smiled tightly and nodded.

“Of course. Well, congratulations again on the win, ladies. It was a stellar performance. I’m sure we’ll be hearing a lot more about the two of you in the future,” the reporter said, before stepping back, signalling the end of the interview.

As the camera crew packed up and the reporters moved away, Beth and Viv exchanged a quick glance. The tension that had crept in during the interview still lingered in the air.

Beth let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Well, that was... fun,” she said, offering Viv a half-smile.

They stood there for a moment, the noise of their teammates swirling around them, but for Beth and Viv, it felt like a brief moment of calm in the storm of attention.

As they moved to grab their bags and head out, Alfie suddenly appeared in the doorway—fully dressed in his arsenal kit, his wide eyes bright with excitement. He rushed over to Viv, throwing his arms up to hug her.

“Vivi, goal! Hooray hooray!” Alfie shouted, his little voice bursting with excitement as he ran toward her.

Viv’s face softened instantly. She crouched down, arms open, and scooped him up with ease. “Thanks, buddy,” she said, her voice full of affection.

Beth stood nearby, watching them with a quiet smile. It struck her, not for the first time, how naturally Viv fit into moments like this—how easily she moved from the chaos of cameras and match reports to the calm joy of holding her son.

Alfie nestled against Viv’s shoulder, babbling proudly about the goal. And in that moment, with his small arms looped around Viv’s neck and his laughter filling the room, Beth felt something settle in her chest.

This wasn’t just about football anymore. It was about them. It hadn't even been 5 minutes since she denied it to the reporter, but deep down Beth knew the reporter was right. This was more than just a strong partnership on the pitch. She was sure. There were feelings, feelings for Viv.

---

The first thing Beth noticed when she woke up was the constant buzzing of her phone. Notifications were flashing across her screen, some from teammates, others from journalists, and a fair number from people she barely knew—commenting on last night's match.

Her eyes narrowed as she unlocked her phone. The first headline she saw was from a major gossip sports site: "Beth Mead & Vivianne Miedema: The Dynamic Duo—More Than Just Teammates?"

Scrolling down, Beth saw an entire thread of social media posts, memes, and speculations. "They've got a special bond on the pitch, but is there something more off it?" one tweet read. Another fan page posted: "If they're not dating, they should be—just look at them!"

Beth laughed to herself, shaking her head. This was exactly what she’d feared—the attention was already intensifying. There was no escaping it now.

Meanwhile, Viv was scrolling through the same headlines on her phone as she sipped her morning coffee, sitting in her cozy living room. She hadn't expected things to take off this fast. The media had always been interested in her, especially given her success on the field, but this was different. This wasn’t just about her performance; it was about her and Beth.

Her and Beth… they weren't even together. Viv herself was only just aware of her feelings for Beth and now the world was making up stories about them.

As she clicked on another article titled “Viv & Beth: The Secret to Their Perfect Synergy on the Field”, she sighed. The words felt so... intrusive. They talked about her relationship with Beth, about how they seemed inseparable during the match, how their "chemistry" was undeniable.

Was it really that obvious? Viv wondered. She hadn’t even thought about the way they connected during the game in those terms. It had simply felt... natural.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a text from Beth:

“Can you believe this? It’s everywhere.”

Viv chuckled and quickly replied:

“Yeah. It’s a bit much. Can’t believe it.”

After a few moments, another text from Beth appeared:

“We’ll need to talk about it soon. This won’t stop”

Viv stared at the screen, her smile fading. Beth was right. Things like this didn’t just blow over. In their world, even a hint of something off-pitch could explode into headlines.

Later that morning, the team gathered for their regular training session. The media buzz was still palpable, hanging in the air like a thick fog. Viv and Beth had managed to avoid discussing it too much, but it was clear that it was a topic on everyone’s mind.

As they arrived at the training pitch, a few of their teammates gave them knowing glances. Some shot them playful smiles, while others whispered amongst themselves. Even the coaching staff seemed to be in on it.

“Good morning, ladies,” their coach, Renée, greeted them with a grin. “So, how’s the ‘dynamic duo’ feeling today?”

Viv raised an eyebrow but smiled. “Feeling like a duo that’s about to get their heads back in the game,” she replied.

Renée laughed. “Well, you certainly made an impression yesterday. The whole team’s talking about your chemistry. You’ve got everyone excited about the upcoming matches.”

Beth gave a half-hearted smile, shrugging off the compliment. “It was just a game, Renée. We’re just doing our jobs.”

She nodded, but there was a knowing look in her eyes.

As practice began, the tension between the two of them was palpable. Every pass, every move they made was now under the microscope—not just from the coach or their teammates, but from the world. The weight of the media reaction was settling in, but both Beth and Viv were determined not to let it affect their performance.

The quiet hum of the city outside Beth’s apartment was a stark contrast to the chaos they had both experienced earlier. After training, the media had continued their relentless pursuit of a story that was quickly gaining traction—Viv and Beth, the football duo of the moment, were no longer just teammates. The headlines had made it clear: they were more than that, and the public wanted answers.

---

Beth leaned back on her couch, kicking off her shoes and sighing deeply. Her phone was still buzzing on the coffee table, the notifications relentless. A new message from one of her friends. A tweet from a fan. A headline from a major outlet.

Viv sat beside her, a glass of wine in hand, staring out the window, lost in thought. The streetlights outside cast a soft glow across her face, making her look distant and far away. She hadn’t said much since they’d arrived. Neither of them had really spoken about the day’s events. They didn’t have to. The weight of the media was heavy enough on both their shoulders.

After a long silence, Viv finally spoke, her voice soft and tired.

“I didn’t think it would get this... intense,” she said, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her wine glass. “It feels like everything’s suddenly on display, like everyone’s waiting for us to say something—anything—about what’s going on between us.”

Beth turned her head, meeting Viv’s eyes. “I know,” she replied, her voice just as quiet. “I didn’t either. It’s... surreal. We’ve been playing together for years, and no one ever made such a big deal about it.”

Viv nodded, her gaze drifting back to the window. “It’s not just the game anymore. It’s about us, off the field too.” She let out a small laugh, though it lacked humour. “I didn’t even realize how much we were ‘in sync’ until I saw those headlines. It’s like... something shifted, and now everyone’s watching us.”

Beth took a deep breath, looking down at her hands. She could feel the weight of the words, the pressure that had started to build between them. The media had latched onto the idea of something more, and neither of them had been ready for it. But now it felt like everything was being scrutinized— every word, every glance. It was exhausting.

“I don’t think it’s just about the game,” Beth said slowly, almost as if testing the words. “I know—, I feel there’s something between us. Something... deeper than we’re ready to admit to each other.”

Viv turned toward her, her expression thoughtful. “What do you mean?”

Beth paused, unsure of how to express the mix of emotions that had started to surface between them. It wasn’t just the chemistry on the field anymore, though that was undeniably there. It was more than that. It was the way their conversations had shifted, the way their time together felt more natural, more comfortable, more safe.

“I mean...” Beth began, glancing down at her wine glass before meeting Viv’s eyes again. “There’s a feeling, and it’s hard to ignore. I’ve felt it for a while. And I think you feel it too. The way we work together on the field, the way we just... get each other. It’s different.”

Viv’s gaze softened, her lips parted slightly, as if she were going to say something. But she hesitated. Her brow furrowed for a moment, the tension between them palpable.

“You’re right,” Viv said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve felt it too. But I didn’t want to acknowledge it. I didn’t know what it meant. And now, with everything going on... I don’t know if it’s just the pressure of the media or if it’s something real.”

Beth nodded slowly, her hand reaching for her own glass of wine. She took a sip, letting the familiar warmth of the alcohol settle in. The silence stretched between them again, both women grappling with the weight of their words.

“I know it’s real,” Beth said softly, setting her glass down and leaning back into the couch. “But I don’t know what that means for us. Or for me. Or for you.”

Viv didn’t say anything at first, her eyes drifting toward the window once again, lost in her thoughts. For a moment, Beth thought she might just dismiss it all—might pretend that this conversation was nothing more than an aftershock of a busy day. But when Viv finally spoke again, her voice was steady, but filled with a quiet intensity.

“I’ve been thinking about it too,” Viv admitted. “And I’m scared, Beth. Scared of what this means for us, for our careers, for everything. I’ve never been good at this... feeling thing. I’ve never felt something like this before. I don’t know how to let someone in. Especially when it’s you.”

Beth’s heart raced at Viv’s confession. It made her feel closer to Viv than ever before.

“You don’t have to let anyone in if you’re not ready,” Beth said softly, reaching out to touch Viv’s arm. “But I’m here. Whatever you decide.”

Viv looked at her, her eyes filled with something that was hard to name. “I’m not sure I am ready, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try.”

Beth smiled, a warmth spreading through her chest. It wasn’t an easy answer, and it wasn’t the one she’d been hoping for at first, but it was real. And in that moment, that felt like enough.

The space between Beth and Viv seemed to have shifted since their last words, a subtle but undeniable closeness enveloping them.

Viv sat back, her glass of wine now empty, and looked across the room, her gaze distant as she considered what to say next. She had been silent for a moment, her thoughts clearly weighing on her. Beth, sensing the change in tone, remained quiet, waiting for Viv to speak, allowing her the space to open up when she was ready.

Finally, Viv broke the silence.

“You know,” she began, her voice soft and steady, “I’ve always been the kind of person who... keeps to herself. I’ve never really thought much about what it would be like to be in a friendship or a relationship where I felt—safe, I guess. Safe enough to not question everything.” She paused, the words hanging in the air. “But with you, I feel like I can be... me. Completely. And I never expected that. It is new for me.”

Beth turned her head slightly, watching Viv, feeling the weight of the admission settle between them. Viv didn’t often speak like this—open, vulnerable—and the honesty in her voice made Beth’s heart ache, though in a good way.

“I know what you mean,” Beth replied quietly, leaning forward slightly, her arms crossed over her knees. “There’s something about being with you that feels... natural. Like, I don’t have to pretend or second-guess things. It’s... easier than I expected.”

Viv let out a quiet breath, as if she were trying to process the very words that had just left her mouth. She turned to face Beth fully, her eyes catching Beth’s in a way that felt different—more intense. There was a depth in Viv’s gaze, something unspoken yet profoundly understood between them.

“You’ve been through so much,” Viv said softly, her tone almost apologetic. “I know you’ve had your own struggles, and I don’t want to make things more complicated for you. But I also don’t want to keep pretending that what we have is just about football. It’s more than that. And I can’t ignore that anymore.”

Viv held her gaze, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence between them wasn’t awkward—it was full of understanding, full of the unspoken tension that had been building for weeks, maybe even months.

Finally, Viv spoke again, her voice quieter, more reflective. “Maybe we don’t have to figure it all out right now. Maybe we just... let it happen and see where it goes. I think that’s what I’ve been afraid of—letting go of control. But with you... I feel like maybe it’s okay to just... see what happens.”

Beth swallowed, feeling something shift inside her. Viv’s words were like a gentle invitation, a soft push to embrace the unknown. And for the first time in a long time, Beth felt a sense of peace in that uncertainty. Maybe they didn’t have to have all the answers right now. Maybe all they had to do was let things unfold, bit by bit.

Beth nodded slowly, her lips curling into a soft, sincere smile. “I think I could get used to that,” she said, her voice low and full of meaning. “Just seeing where this goes.”

Viv returned her smile, the corners of her mouth lifting in a way that felt both relieved and hopeful. “Yeah,” she agreed softly. “Me too.”

Viv shifted slightly, leaning back into the couch, her fingers grazing Beth’s hand. It was a small gesture, but it felt significant, as if that touch was the beginning of something neither of them fully understood yet, but both were willing to explore. Beth didn’t pull away; instead, she let her hand stay where it was, feeling the warmth of Viv’s touch, the connection between them growing.

As they sat there, in the quiet of the evening, neither of them knew exactly what the future would bring. But in that moment, they both understood that they were on the same path. And whatever that path was, they were willing to walk it together.

[meadematales]

~A Different Kind of Morning~

The path to us - chapter 2 ➡️Masterlist

--August 30, 2022--

The alarm hadn’t gone off. It didn’t need to. Viv was already awake.

4:31 a.m.

Outside her window, the world hadn’t stirred yet. No cars. No distant dog barks. No news broadcast humming from the neighbour’s flat. Just silence. She stared at the ceiling for a while, her hands folded neatly on her stomach, like she was preparing for something. She wasn’t sure what. Maybe she was just waiting. For the day, for the noise, for herself.

After a while, she sat up. The sheets were cold against her bare legs. One pillow had ended up on the floor; the other was damp with sweat. She peeled off her oversized T-shirt, tossed it into the laundry basket, and padded barefoot to the kitchen in nothing but a hoodie and shorts.

In the kitchen, she filled the kettle. It hissed and clicked as it warmed, the only real sound in the room.

She stood by the window, mug in hand, staring down at the street four floors below. A single streetlamp buzzed faintly. There was a delivery van parked crookedly across two spots. Someone had left their recycling out too early.

When the coffee was ready, she poured it into her old Arsenal thermos, the one with the chipped corner and Beth’s doodle still sharpied on the bottom from a pre-season prank three years ago. She hesitated. Then smiled. Just a little. Then it was gone again.

Viv laced her boots slowly by the door, the knot of her laces tighter than necessary. She didn’t bother checking the weather, it didn’t care. She pulled her hoodie up, zipped her coat halfway, and stepped out.

The streets were empty. That strange, ghostly hour where even the city seemed unsure whether it should be sleeping or waking. Her breath clouded in the cold as she drove past shuttered shops, bike racks, puddles that hadn’t yet frozen.

A few traffic lights flicked pointlessly between green and red, cycling for an audience of no one.

Viv moved on instinct, a half-remembered route through old habits. She passed the river. A graffiti mural she remembered from her first year in London. A bus stop where she’d once kissed someone she thought might be permanent.

The worst of the pain from the breakup was fading. The ache in her chest wasn’t sharp anymore. Just persistent. Like a dull bruise you keep pressing, just to make sure it’s still there.

She reached the training grounds just as the sky began to fade from black to deep steel-blue. The air smelled like wet earth and early mornings.

The pitch was quiet, still dim. No voices, no footsteps. Just stillness.

Viv walked down the pitch toward the little wall at the end of the pitch and sat on the bench just behind it, drawing her knees to her chest. She unscrewed her thermos and took a sip. Still hot. The steam curled up toward her face, then vanished. She stayed there for a long time. Her eyes closed for a few minutes, but she didn’t sleep. Just she rested inside the hush of the empty pitch.

Viv was still sitting on the bench next to the pitch, nursing the last lukewarm sip of coffee, when the sound of an engine broke the morning hush. She turned her head slightly, brows pulled in.

Before she could see anyone she heard Beth’s voice. “Careful Alfie, wait!”.

Viv watched as Beth stumbled out after him, hoodie halfway on, trainers untied, her blond hair up in what had to be the messiest bun known to mankind. Alfie was in full chaos-mode too; mismatched socks, one shoe, his stuffed elephant in his hands, cheeks flushed pink and an impressive smear of what might’ve been banana across his left eyebrow.

He made a beeline toward the bench, a half-hearted cape made of a Paw Patrol blanket dragging behind him. Beth caught up, scooping him up with a soft “You absolute goblin,” and then she saw Viv. She froze.

Viv raised her thermos in greeting.

Beth blinked, surprised. Then she smiled. Tired, but real. “Couldn’t sleep either?” she called, voice still husky with lack of rest.

Viv shook her head, voice low. “Did I look like I did?”

Beth walked over slowly, Alfie now nestled on her hip, clinging like a sleepy sloth.

“Sorry to interrupt your peace” she said to Viv, while shifting Alfie’s weight. “He was up at two. Then four. Then again just to prove he could.”

Alfie blinked at Viv, then yawned. She gave him a half-smile.

“Don’t worry. The silence was getting suspicious anyway.”

Beth let out a small laugh and sat beside her, still holding Alfie, who promptly reached for Viv’s empty thermos. “You don’t want that, mate,” she told him. “It’s just old bitterness and bad decisions.”

Viv handed it to him anyway. Alfie grabbed it like it was treasure and immediately started pressing the button on the lid, fascinated.

“I brought caffeine,” Beth said, fishing into her oversized bag. “But forgot the mug....”

Viv wordlessly passed her the thermos from Alfie to Beth.

“Trade you.”

Beth blinked. “You serious?”

Viv nodded.

Beth took it like she’d been handed a lifeline. She took a sip, paused, then sighed. “That’s strong. Like, regretting-life-choices strong.”

Viv gave her a sideways glance. “You’re welcome.”

For a moment, they just sat there. Two women who hadn’t slept. Alfie curled tighter into Beth’s hoodie, holding his stuffed elephant tight against his chest. Beth rested her head back against the wall behind the bench they were sitting on, exhaling slowly.

Viv stared straight ahead. “I haven’t done this in a while,” she murmured.

Beth looked over. “What, early mornings?”

Viv shook her head. “Oh no, I’ve had them. I meant shared early mornings.”

Beth nodded slowly. “Yeah. They’re less brutal when someone else is doing them with you.”

Viv didn’t reply. But she didn’t look away either.

Just then, Alfie sneezed, loudly and messily, right into Beth’s shoulder. She groaned. “Brilliant. He’s got the snot apocalypse.”

Viv instinctively reached for the tissue packet in her coat pocket and handed it over without comment. Beth took it, slightly stunned. “You’re scarily prepared for someone without kids.”

Viv shrugged. “Used to date someone with a nephew. Took a Lego to the eye once. Learned fast.”

Beth laughed. Then paused, watching Viv for a moment. “You okay?”

Viv’s eyes flickered.

“Today? I don’t know. But this—” she gestured vaguely to the moment, the sky, the kid half-drooling on Beth’s chest “— this isn’t the worst part of the day.”

Beth smiled. “It’ll get worse when he figures out the gates are locked and starts trying to scale them.” Viv looked at Alfie, who was now trying to open the thermos like it held ancient secrets. “Let’s hope he tires out before that.”

Then, they heard footsteps echoing behind them. One of the staff members was finally opening the building. Beth stood, groaning a little as she shifted Alfie. Viv stayed seated for a beat longer, then rose too, brushing her hands on her joggers. “Training’s in an hour,” Beth said. “Wanna kill time in the physio room? They’ve got better coffee. And beanbags.”

Viv considered that. Then nodded. “Sure.”

They walked in together, Alfie babbling softly between them.

---

The morning had unfolded quietly.  The first hour of training passed in a blur of drills, sprints, and stretches. Viv was more focused than usual, partly from the lingering exhaustion that had settled over her body after a sleepless night, but mostly because her mind was a little too caught up in the small interactions she’d had with Beth earlier.

Beth, on the other hand, looked like she hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in months. She barely cracked a smile at anything, her concentration divided between coaching the team and checking her phone. It buzzed every couple of minutes. Texts. Notifications.

And then, it happened.

The physio’s voice came over Beth’s earpiece just as they were wrapping up a drill.

“Beth, you need to come to inside. Alfie’s temperature’s spiking. He’s burning up.”

Beth’s face went pale in an instant. Her breath hitched as she pulled her earpiece out, eyes wide, her shoulders stiffening with panic. Viv glanced up at her, sensing the shift. Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. She saw Beth’s quick, frantic movement. Taking off in the direction of the field gate, her phone already in her hand.

Viv was already moving too.

By the time Beth reached the training complex where Alfie was being watched, she was winded, eyes wide with panic. A voice was speaking to her. Something about a doctor. Another staff member held Alfie in his arms, clearly trying to comfort him.

Beth’s breath came in short bursts. She didn’t even notice Viv stepping up behind her until she turned around. Without thinking, Viv stepped forward. “You need help” Viv said, her voice steady despite the rush of urgency in her chest. “I’ll go with you.”

Beth shook her head, her panic barely controlled. “No, I—I can’t ask you—”

“You’re not asking,” Viv interrupted. “I’m offering.”

Beth hesitated for a moment, her eyes welling with uncertainty, but when she looked down at Alfie - flushed and limp, his tiny hands reaching out for comfort - she simply nodded.

In the backseat of the car, Beth cradled Alfie against her chest, one hand pressed against his fevered brow, the other holding him close. Viv kept her eyes on the road, driving faster than she would have liked. The silence in the car was thick, but neither of them felt the need to fill it.

Beth’s breathing was shallow. Her hand shook as she wiped the back of her neck, clearly fighting the tears threatening to spill over. Viv could see the lines of exhaustion in her face, the weight of single-handedly managing a career and motherhood pressing down on her.

“Don’t,” Viv said quietly, glancing at her.

Beth looked up, eyes red-rimmed. “I’m a terrible mother. I shouldn’t have let him stay up so late. He was fine at breakfast. I—” Her words stumbled out, jumbled by guilt. “I don’t know what to do when he’s like this. He’s never had a fever this high.”

Viv kept her gaze on the road, her voice low but steady. “You’re doing everything you can, Beth.”

Beth shook her head, fighting back tears. “It’s not enough. It’s never enough. And I’m always scared it’s going to be too late—”

“You’re doing great,” Viv interrupted, her voice firm but kind. “You’re here with him. You’re taking care of him. That’s what matters.”

Beth’s eyes flickered to the side, surprise written on her face at Viv’s confidence. “How can you say that? You don’t even know how hard this is.”

Viv’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “Because I know what it feels like to be stuck. To feel like you’re constantly failing and falling short. But that’s not the same thing as being a failure.”

Beth didn’t respond, but she didn’t pull away either. She just pressed her lips together, eyes closing briefly as she cradled Alfie closer.

At the doctor’s office, Alfie was checked over by the pediatrician, who assured them it was just a virus. Nothing serious, but it would take some time for the fever to break.

Beth stood by the door, arms crossed, face pale with exhaustion. Viv was perched on the edge of a chair, tapping her foot restlessly. Alfie, now drowsy and limp, lay in his stroller, eyes heavy with fever. Beth glanced over at Viv.

“You really didn’t have to come,” she said quietly, voice hoarse.

Viv glanced at her, then back at Alfie. “I know. But I wanted to. He’s important to you.”

Beth blinked, clearly taken aback by the directness of Viv’s words. Her eyes softened, a mixture of surprise and something deeper flickering behind them.

“I don’t know how to say thank you,” Beth murmured, the words almost getting caught in her throat. Viv shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “Don’t worry about it. It’s just... what you do for people you care about.”

Beth paused, swallowing before replying. “I guess I’m just used to doing things on my own.”

Viv’s gaze lingered on her, a small smile forming. “You don’t have to be.”

The drive home from the hospital was slower, quieter.

Alfie was still drowsy, now fully settled in his car seat, his tiny body curled into the soft blanket Beth had wrapped around him. The heat from the car’s heater was a welcome contrast to the chill of the early morning, and with the fever having come down slightly, Beth’s shoulders finally seemed to relax.

She glanced over at Viv, who was focused on the road, the soft hum of the engine filling the car. There was a calmness in the way Viv drove. Easy, steady, like nothing in the world could rush her. Beth appreciated it more than she could put into words. It wasn’t often she let someone help her, let someone see her like this. Vulnerable. Uncertain. But Viv, Viv was different. She was steady. And despite everything, Beth felt her breathing slow.

When they pulled into the parking lot of Beth’s flat, Viv stopped the car and cut the engine. Beth sat for a moment, looking at Alfie, who had started to stir, a small sound escaping his lips.

“He’ll be okay, right?” Beth asked, her voice quiet.

Viv turned in her seat, offering her a gentle nod. “The doctor said it’s just a virus. His fever will break soon.”

Beth swallowed hard. “I just.. don’t want to mess this up, you know? I’m so used to handling everything on my own. It’s hard to let go, even when I know I need help.”

Viv’s gaze softened, and without hesitation, she reached over and squeezed Beth’s arm.

“You’re not messing it up, Beth,” she said quietly. “We all need help sometimes. You don’t have to carry everything alone.”

Beth felt something tighten in her chest, a lump she hadn’t noticed before. She nodded slowly, her breath shaky. “I don’t know how to do this. How to be both a footballer and a mother. How to be strong for him when I’m barely holding myself together.”

Viv gave her a knowing look. “It’s okay to not be okay. You’re doing your best. That’s all anyone can do.”

Beth’s lips pressed together as she fought back tears, and she looked down at Alfie’s still form, taking a steadying breath. Then, she opened the car door.

The flat was quiet when they entered. The usual hum of life —television, the sound of cooking, of movement— was absent. It was just the soft shuffle of their shoes on the floor and the faint sound of Alfie’s soft breaths as he continued to sleep against Beth’s chest.

Beth moved toward the living room. She walked toward the couch, settling down with Alfie on her lap and tucking a pillow behind her back. Viv followed quietly, her presence calm and unobtrusive.

“Do you want some tea?” Viv asked softly, her voice low enough to keep the atmosphere peaceful. Beth looked up at her, offering a small smile. “I’d love some.”

Viv smiled back and moved toward the kitchen. A few moments later, she returned with two cups of tea, handing one to Beth. “Thanks,” Beth murmured, accepting the mug gratefully.

Viv took a seat beside her on the couch, the quiet stretching between them in a comfortable way. Neither of them seemed to feel the need to speak much. Beth sipped her tea, eyes still on Alfie, who was now settled into a peaceful sleep in her arms.

The silence felt natural. Needed. There was something about the quiet presence of someone who didn’t need words to offer support that made it easier to breathe.

After a few moments, Viv broke the silence, her voice calm and steady. “You’ve been doing this alone for a long time, haven’t you?”

Beth nodded slowly. “Yeah. Since he was born. It’s hard to balance it all, especially with everything that’s going on with football.”

Viv was quiet for a moment, considering. “You don’t have to keep carrying everything by yourself, you know. I’m here if you need something.”

Beth looked over at her then. There was something in Viv’s gaze, something raw and open. “You don’t have to do this, Viv. I know I’m... difficult.”

Viv gave a small shake of her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You’re not difficult. You’re just… real, dealing with life.”

Beth let out a breath, her lips curling into a smile that felt almost unfamiliar. “I’m not used to people being like this. But... it’s nice to know you’re here.”

Viv’s smile softened, and she leaned back into the couch. “I’m here. Whenever you need me.”

The evening stretched on quietly, the two of them sitting side by side, Alfie curled in Beth’s arms as they both drank their tea. No rush. No pressure. Just the simple comfort of shared space.

Beth’s mind wasn’t racing the way it usually did. The silence between them wasn’t filled with the weight of unspoken words. Instead, it was a soft kind of understanding. One that came without the need for explanation.

[meadematales]

Building Our Home ~ mini-serie masterlist

Part of the "Moments On Our Path" collection ➡️Masterlist

What begins with a toddler’s innocent question slowly unravels into something much bigger.

The Start of Home

Goodbye, Hello

This Could Be Home

Everything in Its place

Dates: July 2, 2023 – July 21, 2023

[meadematales]

The path to us

As they navigate messy emotions, public pressure, and private fears, Viv and Beth (and little Alfie) slowly find their way to each other.

Chapter 1: "Where It Hurts"

Chapter 2: "A Different Kind of Morning"

Chapter 3: "Coaching, Connection, and Something More"

Chapter 4: "Rumours and Truths"

Chapter 5: "We Need to Talk"

Chapter 6: "I Think I Need You"

Chapter 7: "Painted in Blue, Pink and Yellow"

Chapter 8: "Truth in Headlines, Love in Silence"

Chapter 9: "Drawn Together"

Dates: August 12, 2022 – January 26, 2023

Moments on Our Path

These stories explore the couple's evolving relationship post-"The Path to Us," focusing on their emotional growth, challenges, and shared future.

✨Mini-series

Short multi-chapter series within The Meadema Nest universe

Building Our Home

From the sidelines

Big Tournament

Ever After

A Little More Us

🌟One shots

Standalone snapshots capturing important moments, milestones, and memories throughout their journey.

Meeting the Parents

In The Spotlight

Operation: Lock the Door

(All mini-series and one-shots are listed in chronological order, beginning from January 26, 2023.)

Background info & extra's

Alfie James Mead