After the Fall

New Family?

Brena sat quietly on the examination table in the stadium’s medical room, holding an ice pack gingerly against her swollen nose. The room was bright and sterile, filled with the faint scent of antiseptic, and the soft murmur of voices from the staff. She still felt the sting from the hit, and her nose was throbbing, but the pain was bearable now, dulled by the cold compress.

Beside her, the middle-aged couple who had so kindly claimed her as their own hovered protectively. The woman, who had introduced herself as Margaret, was rubbing Brena’s shoulder soothingly, while her husband, Tom, stood close by with an easy, reassuring presence. The way they doted on her made Brena’s heart warm, a strange comfort settling over her despite the pain.

A nurse approached with a sympathetic smile. “How are we feeling, Miss?”

Brena managed a small smile in return, though her face still ached. “Better, I think. Just a bit sore.”

The nurse nodded and glanced over at Margaret and Tom. “Thank you both for coming along with her. We’re so sorry about the incident. The game’s been rather intense today, and sometimes the ball gets a bit out of control.”

“Oh, no need to apologize,” Margaret said, waving off the nurse’s concerns. “Accidents happen! We’re just glad Brena here is alright. Isn’t that right, dear?” She gave Brena a soft, motherly smile, her eyes warm with concern.

Brena nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed by all the attention. “Yes, really, it’s alright. Just a bit of a shock, that’s all.”

Another staff member came over, extending a hand to Tom. “Again, we truly apologize for the accident. The safety of our guests is very important to us, and we’re doing our best to prevent things like this.”

Tom took the man’s hand, giving it a firm, reassuring shake. “It’s quite alright, mate. She’s in good hands, and that’s what matters. Besides, it’s all part of the experience, eh?” He chuckled warmly, easing the tension with his good-natured response.

Margaret chimed in, her eyes twinkling with humor as she looked over at Brena. “Though I suppose we’ll have to add ‘wear protective gear’ to our list next time we bring her to a match, right, darling?”

Brena couldn’t help but smile, her cheeks flushing slightly at Margaret’s playful tone. Despite the fact that she’d only known this couple for a brief time, their presence felt oddly comforting, like a family she’d never had.

As the nurse finished checking her over, she smiled at Margaret and Tom. “You both have been wonderful, truly. And Miss Brena is very lucky to have such caring… well, family around her.” She gave Brena a knowing smile.

Brena’s heart squeezed at that word—family. She nodded, unable to hide the faint sadness mixed with gratitude that flickered in her expression. “Yes… I am,” she murmured softly, glancing at Margaret and Tom with a genuine warmth in her eyes.

Margaret squeezed her shoulder gently. “Anytime, love. Besides, it’s been a while since we’ve had anyone else to look after. It’s nice, in a way.” She exchanged a warm glance with Tom, who nodded, smiling fondly at her.

The nurse finished her examination and stood back, giving Brena a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Well, you’re all set to go. Just keep applying ice and take it easy for the next few hours, alright? And if anything feels worse, come back here right away.”

Brena nodded, clutching the ice pack a little tighter. “Thank you… for everything.”

Tom chuckled, patting her on the back. “Come on, then. Let’s get you back up there and see the rest of the game. We wouldn’t want you to miss any more of the action, now would we?”

Margaret gave her a playful smile. “And maybe we’ll even get you a Dante jersey next time, eh?”

Brena laughed softly, a mix of amusement and gratitude filling her chest as they guided her gently out of the medical room. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t just some stranger in a crowded stadium.

As they started making their way back up from the medical room, a sudden presence blocked their path. Brena looked up, her eyes widening as she recognized the player standing before them. It was him—the famous Dante. He was even taller in person, with broad shoulders and a chiseled jaw, his features set in a calm, collected expression. He wore his team’s warm-up jacket, his usual cool aura completely intact.

Dante’s gaze was focused, his eyes serious as he looked at Brena. “Miss… I’m Dante. I came to apologize,” he said in a voice as smooth and steady as he appeared. “I didn’t realize my shot would end up… well, here,” he said, gesturing toward her with a faint hint of sheepishness, though his face remained stoic. “I’m really sorry for any pain or trouble I caused.”

Brena blinked, momentarily stunned to be addressed by the Dante, the star player that everyone had been raving about. She still held the ice pack against her nose, feeling a bit awkward under his intense gaze. She tried to keep her composure and gave him a small, understanding nod. “Oh, no… it’s alright. I’ll live. Besides, as long as my nose is still in place, I’m good,” she joked, hoping to lighten the moment.

A brief flicker of amusement crossed Dante’s usually impassive face, and he nodded in acknowledgment. “I’m glad to hear that,” he replied, his voice gentler. “Still, I feel responsible. I’ll be more careful next time.”

Before Brena could respond, Tom stepped forward, his eyes wide with admiration as he looked at Dante. “Blimey, you’re Dante!” he exclaimed, his voice rising in excitement. He turned to Margaret, his eyes sparkling like a kid meeting his hero. “Can you believe it? Dante himself!”

Margaret laughed softly, patting Tom’s shoulder. “Oh, go on then, love. You can hardly contain yourself.”

Tom turned back to Dante, his enthusiasm spilling over. “Listen, mate, I’ve watched every one of your games—haven’t missed a single one! You’ve got a true gift, son, I mean it. The way you play, the precision, the passion—it’s something else! I saved up for months just to get one of your jerseys. That’s how much I admire you.”

Dante’s stoic demeanor softened as he listened, a glimmer of respect in his eyes. He extended his hand to Tom, giving him a firm handshake. “Thank you. I’m honored. It’s fans like you who keep me motivated.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it!” Tom continued, looking a bit starstruck. “I’ve been telling my mates for ages that if I ever met you, I’d tell you just how brilliant you are. You’re the reason I keep coming back to these games.”

Dante considered this for a moment, then reached into his sports bag and pulled out a jersey—the same one he wore during matches, emblazoned with his name and number. He held it out to Tom with a rare smile. “Here. Take this. It’s my way of saying thank you—for all the support.”

Tom’s eyes widened in disbelief as he reached out to accept the jersey, holding it as if it were made of gold. “Are you serious? Your jersey? This… this is incredible. I can’t thank you enough, Dante.” He turned to Margaret, grinning from ear to ear. “Did you see that? This is Dante’s jersey!”

Margaret chuckled, nudging him playfully. “Well, I reckon you’re the luckiest fan in the stadium tonight!”

Brena, meanwhile, watched the scene unfold with a strange mix of awe and amusement. Here she was, face slightly bruised and holding an ice pack, while her temporary “parents” were having the time of their lives meeting their hero. Despite herself, a small smile tugged at her lips as she watched Tom’s genuine joy.

Dante turned back to Brena, his serious expression returning as he inclined his head politely. “Thank you again for being so understanding,” he said, his voice calm. “And please, take care of yourself. I’ll make sure this won’t happen again.”

Brena nodded, feeling a strange sense of gratitude that he’d come all the way down to apologize personally. “Thank you, Dante. I’ll be alright… really.”

Dante gave a final nod, acknowledging her and the couple, before slipping back toward the tunnel. Tom watched him go with a look of admiration, clutching the jersey to his chest as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

Margaret squeezed Brena’s hand, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Well, looks like you got more than just a nosebleed tonight, didn’t you, dear?”

Brena couldn’t help but laugh, her spirits lifting as she looked at Tom and Margaret, who had so unexpectedly turned a painful night into a strangely heartwarming experience.

As Dante disappeared back down the hallway, Brena felt a strange pang of recognition. His face, though cool and unfamiliar at first, now seemed oddly familiar, as if she'd seen it somewhere before. She squinted, trying to place where she might have crossed paths with someone like him. It was unlikely—how often did ordinary people like her run into football stars? But the nagging sense remained, as if something just out of reach in her memory was trying to make itself known.

Before she could dig any deeper into that thought, Tom’s excited voice snapped her back to reality.

“Brena, I can’t thank you enough!” he exclaimed, still clutching the jersey Dante had handed him with a grin that stretched ear to ear. “You’re a right lucky charm, you are! Imagine, meeting Dante on my first game back here. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes!”

Brena gave a small laugh, still feeling a bit out of place but warmed by his enthusiasm. “Oh, I don’t know about being a lucky charm,” she replied shyly, still clutching her ice pack. “I feel like more of a walking accident, honestly.”

Margaret chimed in, her hand resting on Brena’s shoulder. “Don’t be modest, dear. It was meant to be! Dante himself, right here, just because of you!” She chuckled, glancing at her husband, who looked as if he’d just won the lottery. “Tom’s been dreaming of a moment like this forever, haven’t you, love?”

Tom nodded vigorously, his eyes sparkling. “Years, Brena! Years I’ve been waiting. Every match, I’d think, ‘Maybe this is the one, maybe today I’ll see Dante up close!’ And tonight, just when I’d nearly given up hope, you walked into our lives, and bam!” He held up the jersey as if it were a trophy. “If you hadn’t been here, none of this would’ve happened.”

Brena felt her cheeks flush at the thought that she could have somehow "brought luck" to anyone, especially when her own night had started so miserably. But there was something heartening about their excitement, and she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit of pride that, however inadvertently, she’d made their night special.

“Well,” she said, smiling, “I guess if someone was meant to have a little luck tonight, I’m glad it was you two.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Margaret said, patting Brena’s arm fondly. “We all got lucky tonight, if you ask me! After all, you’re practically family now.” She winked, nudging her husband. “Aren’t we lucky we found her, Tom?”

Tom nodded fervently, chuckling. “Aye, couldn’t have asked for a better match companion. And look here, if you ever feel like bringing a little more luck to a football game, you know where to find us. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

Brena felt a warmth settle over her, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time. This simple kindness, the way they treated her as if she were part of their lives, was unexpectedly touching.

“I’d love that,” she replied softly. “Thank you both for… well, for everything. It’s not every day strangers go out of their way like this.”

“Oh, hush,” Margaret said with a grin, “you’re not a stranger anymore, love. Besides, life’s too short to be anything but kind, isn’t it?”

Brena nodded, her heart filling with an unexpected gratitude that washed away some of her lingering sadness.