Hi♥️
Can we get a Gold Digger Part III?
Gold Digger | Part III
Summary: Feeling fearful and insecure about the future after a downfall is what kept you away.
Warnings: cursing.
A/N: I've been trying to finish this for a long time. Not able to find the inspiration. Buuuuut, after the Euros match, I totally find the guts to open my drafts and finish what I've been procrastinating. Hope you still find this interesting and read it. Love you all 💛 sorry about the time.
Part one | Part two
London - Seventeen months later
"I think you're ready to go back. The question here is if you feel ready"
"I am. I think I've been ready for a while now."
"And what's stopping you?"
"What if we don't work out?"
"Time is unpredictable."
"What if he realized that I'm not what he wants anymore?"
"You know that is not the case. You told me that."
"I'm scared."
"It's okay, it's going to be fine."
Paris - Eighteen months later
14:35 p.m.
"So, can we say you find the one?" Julien, your friend asks you. "Because I think you have."
"Yes, I found the one."
He clapped happily, popping the champagne he had for this special moment.
You were looking for an apartment. Returning to Paris after more months of being out, he helped you look for the perfect place to return to your parisian life.
"I want to make a toast, for the girl I love the most, and the one I know is ready to shine in all the meaning of the word."
"Je t'aime." You smile, giving him a hug. He was a big part of your return to France.
After graduating, you got an opportunity to go to London with the company that you always wanted to work for.
They were expanding their business and chose París to begin. Since you knew the language and had your whole education there, they naturally asked you to take over the company.
"Let's get this paperwork done with and you and I are going on a furniture hunt." You say, grabbing your pen, walking to the entrance while drinking your champagne.
Paris - Kylian therapist office
"Did you bring the letter I asked you to write?"
"Oui, I wrote my heart out."
"Okay, know follow my instructions. Go home, have a shower, have a nice dinner and some wine if you want to extra relax. You told me you have a fireplace so, turn it on and burn the letter."
"Don't you want to read it?"
"No, I'm not, but you can do a last reading before the burning. This will end a cicle, this means you understand that it happened."
"It happened." He nods.
Parc des princes
- 5:30 p.m. -
"Kyky" neymar shouts from the inside of the stadium. "Want to come with us tonight? Bruna and I are doing a special dinner with friends."
"I can go a little after dinner, I have to do something first."
"Do you have a date? Hmm?" Ney poke his stomach, making Kylian laugh and smack his hand away.
"No, just something I have to do tonight. But for that pasta Bruna makes I'm definitely having a cheat day." He laughs, giving Ney a hug while they exit to the field.
The training goes fine. He let his frustration on the field, turning it into magic while he moves the ball with his feet.
"I miss Sergio. I feel like a part of me is gone, " hakimi says, faking crying and making everyone laugh.
"You miss Sergio more than your ex." Neymar shouts from the other side of the field.
"That's it, Junior."
Kylian laughs at the two guys running around, having fun.
Fun is something he ultimately didn't have. The transfer market is happening. After the higher-ups decided to announce to the world that he didn't want to stay till the end of his contract. The whole internet was a mess.
His parents had long talks with him about his career. Telling him what to do. He's young, too young to be this worried about life.
But he knows that without the help of his parents, he wouldn't be where he is right now.
"Ethan, don't sleep. That ball was an easy catch."
"Who's the boss here? Luis or you?"
"Just do what I say." He says, hitting his head in a joking manner. "Do you want to come with me to Ney tonight?"
"Nah, mom wants to go get this couch she's been obsessed with for the last month. The store lady told her that they only had one in existence and she wants it."
"Okay." He says, continuing with the training.
- On the other side of France -
"I want another couch, like one for the bedroom. I saw a beautiful one on pinterest."
"Do you have an idea if there's a store that sells this here?" He asks, looking at the pictures.
"Yes, I actually called like an hour ago, and they told me they will have one in existence. But they're unpacking it, so it's going to be in exhibition in like an hour. Let's go."
Julien shrugs, grabbing his coat and walking behind you to the elevator. "The PSG has a game this Sunday."
"Nice." You say, ignoring his intentions. "I need a charger."
"Don't give me that attitude." He hits you with the newspaper on his hand. "You know why I say this."
"I know, but like I said. Everything has a time, and I need to find my time to do what I need to do."
"Okay, no biggie."
You call an Uber to take you both to the mall. The store is located in this mall that's a little far from your house.
When you arrived you both check stores and pick some things to decorate. Julien knows the vibe you want for this apartment.
"Hey, I'm going to check the couch to see if it's worth the price." You pat his shoulder. He was trying to find the perfect "dinner plates."
You check some emails while you walk there, not paying attention to anything else. Once you arrive, the lady who spoke with you told you the couch was just about to be ready.
Letting you walk to the store, you check other furniture that might be a good competition for this one.
You wanted something that you could relax without replacing the bed, but you also don't want to do work on the bed.
An "L" shaped couch picked your attention. It was in a dark brown color. The couch was beautiful, pretty similar to something that has your mind burning.
"Mademoiselle, we have the couch ready if you want to see it."
"Merci, I want to ask, do this couch come in a cream color?"
While the lady shows the colors of the couch you were eying while you two walk over to the pinterest couch.
You turn your back to the other one. Even when you don't want to accept it. It reminds you of the one you had on the room you shared with him.
"I think I want the other one more."
"We have it in three colors. Shall we go to see the other options? We have them on our second floor."
"Oui." You nod smiling.
While you walk upstairs, there are two people walking in the store, two faces you know more than enough.
"Ethan, can you please put the phone down? I want your help."
"Fine, but after this you're taking me to eat."
Fayza laughs. "It would have been cheaper to come alone, I see."
"Having a daughter was also an option." He laughs, his mother hitting him on the back of the head.
They were scolted to the couch, and Fayza immediately loved it. Picturing it in the perfect space in her house.
While they get checked out, you were trying to decide between a light brown or a cream dirty white color.
"Okay, this one would be."
"Amazing, if you follow me back to the first floor to get everything settle, your address, the payment."
You texted Julien, finding he was waiting for you at this restaurant. Asking him to send you a picture of the menu so you can pick while paying.
You lift your head back to the room, finding a face looking at you curious. The way Ethan eyes light up when he confirms it's you.
- Kylian's House -
The music in the room is calm, a nice jazz to relax his muscles. The outfit is ready to go out. But he has to burn his past to prepare to start a new present.
But he can't let go of the envelope. He's holding it tight, holding it like his life dependent on it. Maybe because what's written on it made his life take a turn.
He sighs, leaving the letter on the couch. He was feeling ready when he spoke with his therapist, but now that he actually has to do it, it is like a burning sensation.
Does this mean he has to burn the feelings he has for you?
After all, it's been more than a year, and you haven't come back to him. He was working hard.
But his year wasn't the best, the club fighting with him, the press fighting with him and even Paris people mad at him.
All he wanted to do was go back to when you would be there for him after the long training hours, after the comments, after the thick and the thin.
But he can't, and he regrets it all the time.
- Neymar's house -
"Vamos Kyky, good thing you came, Bruna was asking about you"
"I bring her something."
"She's going to love it. Let's go inside."
The majority of the team was there. They were celebrating the news of Neymar and Bruna.
He was happy, even though Neymar and him had some shady times, he was friendly after all, for the sake of the team.
"Hakimi, stop with the potatoes, Luis is going to kill you, man."
"Shut it Mbappe, you were eating chocolate last week, and nobody told you shit."
They all laugh. He loves these times because that distracts him. That makes him feel less alone at home. Where no one was waiting, where no one was thinking about him.
The time with his teammates was good. He drank some cocktails. He was going to regret it tomorrow, but he needed them.
"How are the kids?" He asks Achraf, they were walking to their cars.
"They're with their mom. They are so big, I had to buy them everything again because they grew out of the clothes."
"In Spain?"
"Yes, I can't wait to see them, Hiba is bringing them here and they're staying a few days."
He's happy for his friend, after everything for him his kids were the most important thing.
"Dude, I really miss Verrati."
"I can't believe he's gone, he would have chug that bottle down and be fine tomorrow."
"I want to ask you something, Kicks." Achraf sighs. "How are you? I know you have been down, you know I'm here."
Was he okay? Was he bad? Was he sad? Or angry?
He's feeling everything and nothing at the same time. It's like this for time to time. Sometimes he's fine, happy. But then everything in him feels down, feels blue.
"Don't worry, I'm fine. It's just I guess the season."
"You know I'm here. Right?" Achraf repeats.
"I do, and I'm thankful for that."
- The furniture store - Hours prior
"When did you come back?" Ethan throws himself at you, who with open arms receives the hug. "This is such a surprise."
"Hello, roots."
"Mom, look who's here." He says, letting you go.
Fayza turns at the call of her name, her eyes illuminating at the sight of you. She can't deny how much she misses you.
"Ma belle." Same as Ethan, she hugs you tightly.
"Hello to you two, I've missed you so much."
"When did you come back?" Ethan repeats.
"I been here for a few days now." You confess. "I'm going to be working here."
"So you're back for good?"
"Yes, roots. I am." You hug him back again. "I'm so happy to find you, I missed you a lot."
"We missed you too. You look so good. I was so happy when you told me about your job opportunity."
Fayza and you were close. She went to your graduation, gave you a gift for your birthday, and texted you on Christmas day, on the new year. She was like a mother to you.
"I wanted to be stable here with everything before telling you."
"Oh I'm so happy you're here." Ethan jumps a little. "Even Melissa is going to be so happy."
You wanted them back, wanted your little family bond back, but first got to get the boy back.
"I hope to see you guys again, maybe for a coffee or a chocolate."
"Wait, let's go to dinner." Ethan suggests.
Thankfully, Fayza notices the way you don't want to disappoint Ethan. "Maybe later, we have to go home because you haven't done your homework."
"Oh no, roots go home and finish that homework." You joke, pinching him on the ribs. "We can meet some other time for chocolate or a coffee."
Your conversation was interrupted by the worker who handed Fayza her card. The other worker is waiting for you to complete the sale.
"You guys have the same number? If you do I'll text you and we can meet up, okay?"
They both agree with the plan, saying their goodbye, and with another round of hugs, they left the store.
It's undeniable that the Paris Saint German sucks. They have some good moments, and they have some bad. But the bad ones have lately been much more than the good ones.
The last matches were bad, barely even working as a team. It was like if eleven players were there doing their own thing. No union, nothing.
Some people will say "oh but then won the last two," but with the lack of technique they have, it was a big surprise.
The Clermont team was doing so much better. Leaving zero chances for the team. And it was obvious that they were lacking something because it was almost the end and no goals.
Twitter was crazy about the fact that "The Kylian Mbappe" didn't scored against Clermont.
But it's not on him. It's on the team. It's on everyone. Even the new coach. Galtier did so much shit that you can't change in a few days.
You turn the tv off, angry at the result. Stupid game, you thought. Even if it was a repetition, you were mad as if it was live.
Your phone vibrates, picking your attention. You opened the notification, and it was Ethan who sent you a reel about cookies in a new pâtisserie in Paris.
You needed to use your new oven to see if it was working properly. Also, you bought this chocolate that was really good with some butter cookies.
So you invite him to come over, wanting to release some stress and feel some normality again.
The match against Newcastle was bad. The team lost 4 to 1, and the team was struggling.
You notice how Kylian was down. He's not in good shape. Not physically but mentally. Something that makes you worry.
His knee was bothering him again. He had to leave the field because of the pain. Thing that worried you even more.
You wanted to pick up the phone and message him, telling him that whatever is crossing his mind is just there, in his mind.
"Y/n?" Julian says, waving his hand in front of your face. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, sorry. I got lost in my thoughts."
"Notice that." He laughs, he guessed what you were thinking but didn't say it.
"I wonder if he's okay. He looks tired."
"Text him." He shrugs. "I mean, you came back for a reason, do it."
You tap your nail to your phone. You wanted, but what if he has someone else with him already telling him all the things you should be telling him?
"Not yet." You say, getting up and walking to your fridge. "Ice cream?"
- Dressing room - Parc des princes -
"Guys, honestly, we have to keep going. Don't let this bring you down." Luis, tell the team.
The dressing room has this quiet aura. Everybody is thinking of those four goals that nobody stopped, Donaruma feeling bad, the defense guys feeling the same.
And Kylian, even worse. He's thinking of the shots he missed. The moment where he had opportunities and missed them.
His knee hurts. He's tired. He's not focused on the field. He's just not in his prime. That's obvious to everybody.
Especially to the press, printing his mistakes as the first pages, making his missing shots as their conversation on sports programs. Making the Twitter people feel confident about the shit storm they're giving him.
"Kylian, can I have a word with you?"
Luis Enrique and he walked to the corridor. The other team was happy, leaving. Saying their goodbye to the two of them.
"How is your knee?" He asks, he notice the faces he is doing while walking. "You sure you want to play next match? You still have the euros."
"I'm good, I promise sir."
"Promise me something. If you feel like you're overworking your knee, you're telling me. I prefer to sit you for one or two matches instead of you missing the season and euros."
"I promise."
After the talk, Luis advised him to take some recovery therapy. More therapy, he thought.
The drive home was felt long. His chauffeur was quiet, noticing his demeanor. He needs a hot shower and a good night sleep.
He slams the door of his room. Almost ripping this t-shirt, throwing it with all his force to the wall. He wants to scream but won't.
The shower was more than hot. It was burning. But it was all he needed. To feel something again.
He hated to do skin care, thinking all he wanted at night was to sleep, but you taught him to take care of his skin. Creating a night and morning routine.
Even when you're not there, he still did it.
While he stares at his reflection, on the big mirror above his bed, he doesn't know what weights more.
His regret or the ring that sits and collects dust in his nightstand.
That same ring he bought two days before that night.
The same one he was putting on your finger. Now, sure, he will have to throw it away.
Sure, he won't be having nobody next to him to reassure him everything was going to be alright.
Sure, he won't be thinking of raising children with anybody else.
Sure, he won't be thinking about buying a retirement house with a big backyard where to watch his grandkids playing.
Sure, there won't be anybody after you.
Unsure about you being his future.
"I need the last reports of the head office so I can start to organize everything and have it ready for the opening."
You were working on a meeting, having to multi-task and focus your attention between the meeting and what your co-workers were saying with the football game that's happening.
The Rennes game was better. They were winning. This was the last game before the Euros.
You wanted to see Kylian with the team of Les Bleus. They somehow cheer him up. They were like an energy drink for him.
Olivier, Antoine, even the coach. They were all like a family, and they were there for each other, no matter what.
Fayza invited you to the match, she knew you wanted to talk to him but didn't knew how. Ethan and her decided to keep your return a secret, letting you announced it on your own.
She sent you a jersey with his number on it. You try it on, smiling at the reflection. He loved seeing you in jerseys with his number on it.
And you loved to display your support for your boyfriend. Showing up at matches with his number on full display, showing the people you were his. And he was for sure yours.
You opennyour phone, going to instagram to see his page, you feel like a stalker. But it was the only thing you dare to do right now.
You turn the tv on, wanting to see something while working. And the first thing that pop up is a football news channel. They have Kylian picture on display.
"Kylian Mbappe leaves training to go to Bondy. The player suffered a family lost and asked his trainer Deschamps for permission to go back to his hometown to say his goodbyes."
You want to text Ethan, but you don't want to disrupt them. You wanted to know what was happening.
So you have two options. Achraf or Tchaga. Both will eventually tell Kylian you reach and asked about him. Both were only one call away.
You go for the second option. Having a little more trust in this one. You search for his number on your contacts.
The phone rings until you hit the voice-mail. You block your phone again, questioning if you had to try again or maybe just wait and speak with Fayza or Ethan later.
You take the jersey off, changing back into your pajamas, ready to be comfy again.
The vibration of your phone alert you, thinking it was from work you walk slowly to the device. But once you're close, you notice the name in the screen "Tchaga"
"Hello"
"Hey, long time no see, how are you?"
You smile at the greetings. "I'm good, how are you, scissors?"
"Been better, have a cold. But you didn't call me to know that. Tell me, how can I help you?"
"I heard the news about Ky, and I don't want to bother him or his family. But I want to know if I can help."
"I'm actually planning on going to Bondy, would you like to come with me?"
You wanted to scream a yes. But you have to be rational and think if this is something that he would want.
"I don't want to be a bother."
"You will never be a bother, not to him or his family. Get ready and pack something to change just in case."
"What? Wait, what if he doesn't want me there?"
"Bébé, he's been in a shit whole without you, so get your pretty as to the closet, change into something, and send me your location. I'll be there in an hour." He says, hanging up the call.
You do as you were told. Sending him your location and the parking code.
Running to the bathroom to have a quick shower and get ready.
After that, you took a black legging, a white blouse with a little London eye on the side. You white sneakers. You add some blush and mascara, just to add something to your face.
You pack the basics and the clothes Tchaga told you to pack. Just to notice you were done in time. Tchaga texted you that he was in the basement waiting for you.
- Bondy - Later that day
Kylian was exhausted. He feels sad and tired. He feels like crying. But won't.
The room feels cold, barely any air. Of maybe it's just him having difficulty breathing. Maybe it's the last few, maybe it's the lost shot, maybe it's the team.
"Kyky"
Ethan was worried about him. He notices everything. How his brother has such prominent bags under his eyes and is losing a little weight.
How he chooses to sleep instead of doing the things he loves. How the whole "mbappe saga" destroyed a little his confidence.
"Want to tell me what's going on?"
Kylian scoffs, he can't believe that his little brother is the one worried and not the other way around.
"I'm supposed to be asking you that, Ethan."
"Well, if I'm worried about you, I'm going to ask and help.It's not like it's a crime being down."
"I just want this bad time to end."
"It will, don't worry, Ky, you're so strong."
He smiles, patting his brother on the shoulder. Ethan offers him a cookie. Knowing he likes them.
"Tchaga told me he was coming. He's probably about to be here." He sighs, not sure what else to do. "Let's play some fifa, I have the app on my phone."
He smiles, heartwarming with how much Ethan is doing to make him feel better. "If I win, you do the dishes."
"Deal."
While they got some distraction, you and Tchaga were stuck in traffic. You feel anxious. Maybe it was the drink you got at Starbucks, maybe the fact that after almost two years you and the man you love were reuniting.
"You need to stop with your leg, bébé." Tchaga says, putting his hand on your knee to stop it from moving. "The car is moving with you, and it's making me nauseous."
"Sorry, I'm just nervous."
"Okay, I want to know, let's get deep." He laughs, turning the car off and turning to you. "So you left after graduation, not blaming you tho, I would have done the same."
You smile at his rambling. You missed this so much. Maybe not the topic but the talk.
"The thing here is, you're back, but are you back for him? I know you came back to work. You just told me that."
"Get to the point." You laugh.
"My point is, don't rush me. We're not moving." He says sassy. "Are you taking him back? Are you sure you want to go back and take up every challenge you guys may face?"
You don't have to think your answer. You knew what you wanted way before stepping back into French territory.
"I wouldn't have come back if I wasn't sure that I wanted that."
-Bondy - 9:30 p.m. -
"Mom, I'm going back to the house, Tchaga is coming and Ethan is tired. Do you need anything else?"
"No, go and have a good sleep, baby."
He hugs his mom, kissing her cheek and leaving back to her house. Ethan and him walked over there. The night was calm.
"You know what I want?" Ethan asks.
"Yeah?"
"I want some chocolate with butter cookies." He says, caressing his tummy.
He nods, agreeing with how much a good chocolate and some good butter cookies will heal the day.
"Y/n used to make some amazing cookies. Never knew how to make them, but we can try doing them some other day."
Ethan was talking about other things, how he can't wait to see on the match against Netherlands.
When they got closer, he noticed the car of his friend. Tchaga went out, walking up to him and hugging him.
"Hey, Ethan, why don't you help me with something that's on the co-pilot side." He says with a smirk.
The teenager nods, not thinking about anything else walks to the door. He opens it, seeing you. He wanted to scream, but you shush him putting your finger over your lips.
"Hey, get inside, I will take care of this."
Both men nod to his words, walking inside while they talk, Tchaga was telling him about the crazy traffic and how a little trip turned into almost half a day one.
"What are you doing here?" He whispers while Tchaga walks into the house with his brother. "No that you aren't welcome but you surprise me."
"I wanted to make sure you guys are okay."
"Okay, sweet." He laughs, opening the door for you to get out. "I am, but I'm not if he is."
"I've been worried about him, his whole attitude, he not even being on the press conferences of les bleus."
"Yeah, my parents and I are worried. He won't open up to us." He sighs, tired of seeing his brother like this. "I just want him to go back to the happy Kylian."
"Hey, do you think you can give me some time alone with him? I want to talk."
"God, yes, let's go." He slams the door, grabbing your arm and practically running inside. "Stay here, I'm going to ask Tchaga to come see something so we can leave."
You nod, closing the door. He dissappear into the corridor. You open your bag to spray some mint scent into your mouth, take a small mirror to check that you look decent.
You hear two voices coming down. Tchaga and Ethan walked quickly to where you are. Excited about you and Kylian talking again.
"Okay, he's in the kitchen, go." Tchaga push you a little.
They both left the house. You stood there for a little while. Feeling the senses come back to you. You were about to meet up with him.
You walk slowly to the kitchen, hearing some music playing. You can't get cold feet right now. Not after spending hours in the car just to come see him.
His back is facing you. You run his whole figure with your eyes, smiling at the fact that you're matching without planning it.
You nock on the wood door that's at the entrance. He turns without looking, typing something on his phone.
"Hey E, I found a good recipe for those cookies."
"You can't bake even if your life depends on it." You laugh lightly.
He has to blink several times, scared this would be a fever dream and not you in front of him. With your rosey cheeks, you nice smile and the same shinning eyes he loves.
"I can write the recipe for you. That way, it's similar." You speak again. "But if you don't know how to use your oven the I don't think it will work."
He's still speechless, thing that worried you. He does the same thing you just did to him. Scan your whole figure.
"How?"
"I been on Paris for some time now." You confess, "I wanted to call you, I just felt so scared you weren't going to answer."
"Why wouldn't I?"
You shrug, not really feeling like explaining your insecurities to him. "Just, my mind playing games."
He wants to hug you, missing the feeling and warmth only you can give him. He wants to open his arms around you.
Fuck it, he thought.
Opening his arms while walking to you. You drop your bag to the floor, opening your arms to him.
The hug was like a band-aid. It was what your hearts needed. Like when you put something back together and it just fits so good you can't even see the damage.
"I miss you so much." He hides his face into your neck. Kissing it. "Please don't go, I can't take being away from you again."
You kissed his shoulder, feeling the moment you dreamed about it, the whole thing was better than your dreams.
"Can you look at me?"
He broke the hug, hands on your waist so you couldn't run. It's not like you're planning on doing it.
"If we're doing this again, I need you to really fucking trust me." You laugh, maybe out of nerves. "Babe, I would never be with you for your money. I am with you for your heart, for your soul, you're my fucking soul mate and I can't let you go. But if you fucking pull some shit like that I will make sure you are dead."
"I swear on everything I have, I swear on the kids we don't even have yet, that I won't pull nothing like that. Have all my money, have all my properties, what's mine is yours. I was stupid enough not to back you up, and that was the worst thing I ever did."
You shut him up with a kiss. The way his lips are just like you remember, as soft as before, as warm as before.
His hands on your back, pulling you as close as he can. While your hands are on his face. Not wanting to break the kiss.
When the air becomes a necessity, you both can't stop looking at your eyes. The eyes never lie. They tell our secrets. And if anybody sees the way your eyes look at each other, they will see heart shapes on them.
You hear someone clearing their throat. Making you both turn. "Well, hello, I didn't mean to interrupt. But I want to drop this off on the counter."
He let go of his hold, helping his mother with the box she had in her hands. "Oi, that smile was lost until today." She jokes. Making you blush. "Well, I'm going to sleep. Y/n, belle. This is your house. Make yourself conformable."
You nod, wishing her a good night. Once she's out of the kitchen view, you return to the arms of your love.
"By the way, please go to sleep, we have to get Kylian to training tomorrow."
Tou both laugh at her words. Not promising anything. Not after that long.
The game was good, Kylian just scored two goals. He was not only the captain but was the reason they won the game.
The crowd was crazy about it. people were sure he wasn't going scored the two goals that were sending them to the victory.
But oh boy, how wrong they were.
You walk with his mom and Ethan to the outside of the stadium. You were happy for him.
"You know, when he used to say you were his lucky charm, I was like, iugh disgusting. But I think you really are a lucky charm."
You laugh, hitting his arms. "I can go to your matches, maybe I can give you some of my luck."
"No need." Melissa interrupts, smirking. "He has his own lucky charm. Just a little shy to admit it."
"Oh shush." Ethan says, blushing like crazy.
Once you're on the basement of the stadium, where the private parking lot is. You all got into Kylians car.
"Hey, so you do like dudes with a car but without a license." E jokes, remembering the message you sent him.
"Careful kid," you warn jokingly. "You will be walking home if you keep with those unfunny jokes."
The whole trip was Ethan and Melossa fighting about something they saw on tik tok, making jokes about it and Fayza and you being confused.
When the time for Ky comes back home hits, Fayza, Ethan, and Melissa left. Letting him enjoy his night.
"Hey, handsome." You welcome him with a hug. "You did amazing, it was one of the best games you had this season."
"Another way of you telling me my club sucks."
"Shhh, just take the good part." You shush him with a kiss.
"Are we alone?"
You nod, kissing him again. You never had enough when you're with him. It was like a kiss with a candy. You love it and refuse to give in.
He picks you up, making his way upstairs. Almost falling, thing that made you laugh. It was like the beginning. And you loved new beginnings.
- Five months later -
"Ready?" You ask, putting on your seat belt.
He nods, he was feeling anxious about this decision, but you made him understand that it was a necessity.
During the little drive, he told you about some plans Luis has with the team as they were going to the last games of the Ligue 1.
"I never asked you this, but do you ever get free Uber eats?" You ask, confused. He plays for the Uber eats Ligue.
"Why would I get free Uber eats?"
"Uber eats Ligue 1"
"Bébé, just no."
You laugh at his expression, but you had to ask. It was something that had your curiosity.
You park outside the house, Kylian quickly exit the car and run to your side. He was a passenger princess, but he was a gentleman.
"Thanks, Mister Mbappe." You kiss his cheek, taking his hands on yours.
"You're welcome, Miss fiancé."
You knock on the door. You can't help but deep the hold on his hands. It was something that was necessary, you repeat in your head.
The door is open by a woman. She happily lets you inside, offering you something to drink.
"We're okay, thank you."
"He's in the garden. He's reading."
He leads the way to the garden, opening the door and letting you step outside first. The Parisienne air is cold. Good think there's some sun after the cold cloudy winter.
"Père."
Wilfrid smiles, leaving his book on the little table. He was excited about meeting you. He wanted as much as everybody a new beginning.
"Hey, you need to put on a jacket, is cold outside." He warns his son, hugging him. "Hey, Y/n."
"Hi, sir."
"Can I give you a hug?" He asks, hopeful that you will allow him to. "Aftet all, you will be my daughter in law."
You hug him, you left all the pain and resentment in the past, that was hurting you even more.
"Sit, please."
You loved the way his garden looks, wanting to stole some ideas for the new place. "I love the roses."
"They are looking good today. The sun is helping them to look good." He cuts one that's close to the table. Giving it to you. "Tell me. You guys came for a reason."
Kylian looks at you. He wanted you to be the one to talk. He nods his head once you look at him. A sign of support.
"I want to leave all in the past. We want to start a clean new beginning. And we want you on it. You're his father, and we're going to be family. So I. Well, we want you to be there for us."
"I want that, I know I have a long way to you, but please, now that my heart is full with good intentions."
"We know, père." Kylian says. "That's why we wanted to do this."
You feel out of breath. But at the same time, lighter, like taking something off your shoulders. Your life was taking a good turn.
You chatted with his father for a while, sharing some wedding details. Your plan was to have a wedding once the season finishes. So you can have a honeymoon and some free time with him.
You grab the hand of your fiance, the ring he gave you shining. You knew that even if it was hard, you needed to leave the past in the past. Just lean about it.
🪷🪷🪷
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You're my new favorite blog! You have no idea how I wish I could peck inside your brain like a chicken. 😭😂😂 I am a Catholic and a recovering agnostic. I struggle with letting go of my old way of life and philosophy constantly, I have been struggling with it since the day I decided to revert - that was back in 2017. (I think you would like to know my journey back to the Faith started after watching HBO's The Young Pope! 👌🏼) At this point I don't know if I'll ever be the person the Lord wants me to be, oh well, I'll die trying and I know that will mean something.
I just know I can't go back to being a non-believer, because as Carl Young said, now I don't just believe, I know. The irony is my struggle to believe in something I know to be objectively the Truth.
I have a question for you though, actually I hope for some advice from you. How do I reconcile with the reality that I haven't become who I dreamed to become (like career wise), but now that a new career has been shoved upon me (a career my parents wanted for me - and they valued safety and stability over "following my dreams" I suppose)? ...which isn't necessarily a bad thing, because it is an extremely noble profession and it pays quite well.
The thing is, as much as I try to accept my new career, I keep telling myself and to others that I'm doing this for my parents and not because I want to be here. I feel terrible about it. But, again, it's not like I am unfulfilled (I am unhappy though, but that comes with the work culture/environment, I feel like I am surrounded by 40+ year old teenagers); as a matter of fact, I do think I know - objectively - in my heart that this is exactly where the Lord wants me to be? But I keep fighting against it, keep struggling against this sense of vocational calling that I'm feeling towards my new job, instead I desperately wanna give into my want to go "live the life I want." Like throw this all away, get new training and start all over with the career I wanted all those years ago.
I want to be better, to be sacrificial like Christ on the Cross. I've always known I had a little depression (comes with my disability from a young age and this whole dream thing); I have been suicidal over this, I actually used to joke with myself that I'd kill myself if I don't achieve my professional goals by the time I turned 25. I will turn 30 this September and even though I haven't been literally dead, I feel like I've been in a vegetative state - mentally - ever since the day I turned 25. I hope that makes sense.
I started seeing a therapist 2 weeks ago since my mental health started affecting my new job - she did say I have depression and is trying to help me but I just don't know if I want to be helped at all, because I am unable to do the exercises she tells me (like create a routine, exercise well, write down good thoughts, etc.) I feel like I'm failing myself, my parents and, most importantly, my Heavenly Father.
I apologise if this is nonsensical, I apologise for dumping all of this on you - random stranger on the internet - but idk I felt like maybe you'd have something wise to tell me to knock some sense into me (without a bump to prove it hehe).
Thank you and God bless! 🥰
You’re very kind, and I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to share all this with me! I really never have anything good of my own to say, or any wisdom to offer, except what I “steal” from God…and I guess what I mean is, if I ever say anything helpful or good or true, I’m just the messenger. I didn’t come up with it. On my own I have zero wisdom or good things to offer.
Anyway, I was surprised reading this because I have gone through (been going through) a similar sort of mindset. I went to school for the career I dreamed about (still dream about) and I worked hard and I wanted it more than anybody around me (very Mike Wasowski in MU of me) and it hasn’t happened the way I planned, or in my timetable.
I mean, in all humility: I work with a studio making a tv show, but it hasn’t got off the ground yet, and I work for a company that writes movie reviews, but neither of those things pay my bills. I have a third job, working with therapists, that’s nothing like what I always wanted to do. That’s my “career,” but it’s not the career I’m passionate about and working toward. And I wonder if I’ll ever do anything “major” in the line of work I love and went to school for. And when I do, I have gotten into some really dark mental places.
Forgive me for not using the words “depression” or “suicidal.” I hate using those words because they’re overused and romanticized and flooding the culture. But more importantly I hate using them because the only thing I identify with is Christ, not any mental struggle I try to slither back into, like a snake trying to put back on old skin. I’m not my overthinking—I’m not my depression—I’m not my suicidal thoughts or emotions—I am one with Christ. Those are things inside me that are defeated and dead—the teeth have been knocked out of them. They just gum me from time to time. So I want you to know I empathize with you, but that’s my point and that’s how I want to answer you:
The only thing about you that really matters is Christ.
Who He says you are, what He has done and how He lived, which is applied to you because He said it is, by grace alone, through faith alone. No matter how you feel.
And I say that to you, as the answer, because I think you and I focus too much on what could be and what “should be” as if God has a set path for us, and if we don’t figure out what it is and walk it, we’ll have a less-fulfilling life. “If I stay at my therapy job and just work with teenagers and write on my blog for the rest of my life, I’ll be fine, but I won’t be as good as I could be.” Or for you. “If I stay in this career I’m in, the one my parents backed me into, I’ll make it, I’ll be fine, but I’ll never be as happy as I want to be.” We’re both thinking, every once in a while, “This is career is what God wants for me, and all my misery is coming from not submitting to it, and if I could just wrestle my contentment into place and give up the thing I want, and submit to what God wants, I’d be fulfilled.”
But how do we know any of those thoughts are true? How do we know God wants us in these boring old careers we wouldn’t have chosen—didn’t choose? Or, how do we know these boring old careers are what we’re stuck in because we didn’t take the plunge and work harder for our “dreams,” which were what He really wanted us to do? How do we know either of those things?
We don’t. We don’t get to know. That’s the point.
Because that’s not how God works. Not from what I can tell in the Bible.
“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”. Colossians 3:17.
Whatever you do. Not “the one specific thing you figure out He wants you to do.”
My mom described it to me once when I was in a really dark place trying to figure out what He wanted me to do, paralyzed with indecision, afraid He wanted me to do something I just didn’t want to do, like this: “God doesn’t hold out one flower and say, ‘this is the one I want you to have, so you can either take it or take something worse.’ God makes a field of flowers, and He says, ‘Which one do you want? Pick one, and do it with excellence for Me.’ Then just trust Him to make it good.”
It sounds like you’re in a career, but you are wrestling with whether or not to pick it, now that you have some autonomy as an adult, or to pick starting over. Well. Pick one. Just pick one. And trust God to take care of you. Trusting God looks like thinking it through with excellence, then making the decision—and making the decision means letting go of worrying about the thing you didn’t pick. “Take every thought captive in obedience to Christ.” Once you make a choice, make it all the way, and don’t let your mind wander anymore to “what if this blows up in my face? What if I should’ve stayed back there at the crossroads, or gone down the other path?” It’s going to be hard and God is going to take care of you, no matter what you pick. So don’t let your mind go to those places where you worry; acknowledge the worry, and every time, ask God to help you remember that He’s got you.
Because here’s the point, here’s the thing: He does have you. Because ultimately, your career really doesn’t matter. It doesn’t, it doesn’t, it doesn’t. Neither does your dream. Not ultimately. And now I’ll say “our” because I need to hear it too. Our dreams and careers are not the point of us, and our dreams and careers are not what God means when He says “I’ll take care of you.”
What He means is, “I’ve already taken care of you.” Because the most important thing isn’t our job or our dream. The most important thing is, we’ve been rescued out of eternally being trapped in our broken desires, and now we get to live for Christ, Who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. That’s the major. And that truth is where our fulfillment is supposed to come from, what our lives are meant for, our purpose. As long as we pick one, and do it with excellence to make the name of Jesus famous, with that goal in mind, we’ll be emotionally fulfilled. We’ll be satisfied. Because that’s the goal. Not making movies, or whatever it is you want to do. Not having secure means of living. Just…living our lives to make who Jesus is famous. We can do that wherever.
So then the choice? It becomes a minor, not a major, and the pressure of “will I be happy?” is off, because happiness isn’t found in that stuff. And whenever I forget, and start looking for happiness in my dreams, goals, career, that’s when it all starts to feel dark and stressful and hard and crushing. Because it was never meant to give me happiness or fulfillment—that’s a need only Christ can fulfill.
Don’t misunderstand me. He cares what you do. He cared about every decision you make, and He does have a plan. But that’s going to happen anyway. So just pray, consider which option is a) wise to go for and takes care of the responsibilities God has entrusted you with, b) which option you genuinely want, when your wants are not influenced by fears, and then c) step out and do it in faith. And do it with the mindset of, “I’m doing this, and I’m not thinking about the alternative if I can help it, and I’m also not putting all my happiness-eggs in this basket, because even if it crashes and burns, hey, I’m still one with Christ and I can still make Him famous no matter what road my career goes down.”
I hope this helps. It’s a subject I’m hamster-wheeling around in my mind right now a lot—but when I just fix my eyes on Christ and think about how the most important things, the things that give real joy and happiness, are already and forever taken care of and I can’t mess them up—then can get off the hamster wheel and enjoy the life He’s given me, right now, today, without worrying about the future.
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