014 | a new kind of strength

Days had passed since the injury, and Gianna was still holed up at home, her knee wrapped in an ice pack and elevated on a pillow. She hated every second of it. Every moment felt like a betrayal to everything she had worked for. She couldn't stand the feeling of being sidelined, of being forced to just wait while the doctors and physiotherapists worked their magic.

The rehab process was slow, each session leaving her exhausted and frustrated. She couldn't run, couldn't pivot, couldn't play. Instead, she was stuck doing low-impact exercises and stretches. The feeling of helplessness crept in, and sometimes, when the pain flared up, she wondered if she'd ever be able to play at the level she once had.

Despite the overwhelming urge to push herself harder, to just get better faster, she knew she had to be patient. The thought of being away from the pitch for even a moment longer than necessary made her angry, but deep down, she knew rushing her recovery would only make things worse.

She was just starting to doze off on the couch one afternoon when the doorbell rang.

Gianna groaned, forcing herself to sit up as her knee throbbed. She reached for the crutches that had been her constant companion since the injury, slowly making her way to the door.

When she opened it, a familiar face greeted her.

"Hey, champ," Hector said, giving her a soft smile, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie. He looked casual, but there was something in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat.

"Hey, you," Gianna replied, trying to hide the surprise in her voice. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be training with the team?"

Hector shrugged, stepping into her apartment without waiting for an invitation. "Nah. Took the day off. Figured I'd come check on my best friend." He grinned, his voice light, but she could hear the concern underneath.

"Best friend, huh?" Gianna raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. "You just came over to hang out or are you here to give me a pep talk?"

"Both," Hector said with a wink. "Although, I'll be honest, I'm here mostly to make sure you're not going stir-crazy in here by yourself."

Gianna rolled her eyes. "As if I'm not already going crazy. Being stuck here is torture, Hector. I'm not used to this."

He walked over to the couch, sitting down carefully beside her. "I get it. But you need to take it easy. You'll get back to it. Just, you know, one step at a time."

Gianna flopped back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. "One step at a time. That's what they all keep saying. Rehab's one thing, but the hardest part is not being able to play. Not being out there with the team. It's... it's frustrating."

Hector didn't respond right away. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared down at the floor. "I know. It sucks." He looked back at her, his eyes softer now. "But you know what? You're stronger than this injury, Gigi. I've seen it in you since we were kids. You've got more fight in you than anyone I know."

Gianna turned to look at him, his words sinking in. "I'm not so sure anymore. I mean... what if I can't get back to where I was? What if this is it?"

Hector smiled, but it wasn't the playful grin she was used to. It was gentle, comforting, like he was seeing through her tough exterior. "You will. You're not the kind of person who just gives up. And when you're back on that pitch, you're going to be even better than before. You've got a fire inside you that no injury can take away."

Gianna swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak. "What if it's not enough?"

He reached over, placing a hand on her shoulder, his touch steady and warm. "Then you fight harder. You've always been the one to push through, to show the world what you're made of. Nothing changes that, Gigi. Not this injury, not anyone else. It's you."

Her chest tightened at his words. There was something about Hector's unwavering belief in her that made the weight of her own doubts feel a little lighter.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

Hector gave her a small, knowing smile. "You don't have to worry about that. I'm not going anywhere."

They sat in silence for a while, Gianna leaning back against the couch with her leg propped up, Hector beside her. The weight of the world didn't feel as heavy with him there. For the first time since the injury, she let herself relax, her breath coming a little easier.

After a few moments, Hector pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. "You want me to get you some food? You've got to eat, or you're going to make me worry more than I already do."

Gianna laughed softly. "You really do worry about me, don't you?"

He met her gaze with a shrug. "I wouldn't be me if I didn't."

"Fine, I'll let you get me something to eat. But only if you promise to watch something stupid with me afterward."

"Deal," Hector said with a grin, standing up and heading toward the kitchen. "Prepare yourself for the worst movie suggestions."

Gianna smiled, shaking her head as she watched him go. For the first time in days, she felt a sense of calm. It wasn't because everything was fixed-it wasn't. But for a brief moment, she allowed herself to believe that she wasn't alone in this.

And maybe that was enough.