Benjamin stuck to the plan.
The next morning, he arrived at the training ground, but instead of joining his teammates on the pitch, he headed straight to the physio room. Mark was already waiting, setting up equipnt.
"How’s it feeling?" Mark asked as Benjamin stretched out his leg.
"Still tight," Benjamin admitted. The dull ache hadn’t fully faded, but it wasn’t as sharp as before.
Mark nodded, running his fingers along the muscle, applying gentle pressure. "That’s expected. We’ll start with so mobility work today. Nothing too heavy."
Benjamin didn’t argue. He knew the risks of pushing too soon.
For the next hour, he went through controlled exercises—basic stretches, light resistance work, careful movents to keep the muscle active without straining it. No sudden bursts of speed, no twisting, no unnecessary pressure.
Outside, he could hear the rest of the squad on the training pitch. The occasional shouts. The sound of boots striking the ball. It was strange, not being out there.
By the ti he finished, Mark gave him a nod of approval. "Good session. Keep this up, and you’ll be back in no ti."
Benjamin only exhaled, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Yeah. Hopefully."
The days passed in a routine of rehab and patience.
Each morning, he reported to the physio room, sticking to light work. Resistance bands, controlled movents, careful steps forward.
Each afternoon, he rested. Feet up, ice packs, watching matches he wished he could be playing in.
He kept up with the team, of course. He sat in on etings, listened to Verbeek’s tactical discussions, watched training clips with the coaching staff. But it wasn’t the sa.
By Friday, it was official—he wouldn’t be playing on Sunday. The club released the match squad for the upcoming ho ga against VVV-Venlo, and his na wasn’t on it.
Benjamin stared at the list for a mont, then locked his phone. He already knew he wouldn’t be in contention, but seeing it confird still stung.
Sunday would co, the team would play, and he’d be watching from ho.
He exhaled and leaned back on the couch.
One ga down. One more to go. Then, hopefully, he’d be ready.
"Why the long face?" Sophie asked as she sat down next to him.
Benjamin glanced at her, then back at the TV. So random show was playing, but he wasn’t paying attention.
"Nothing," he muttered.
Sophie scoffed. "Right. And I’m the Queen of England." She tucked her legs under her and nudged him with her elbow. "Spill."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Just frustrated. Feels weird sitting out. I hate not being involved."
She nodded, watching him. "Well, it’s only temporary. You’ll be back soon."
"Yeah, I know." He picked at a loose thread on his hoodie. "Still sucks, though."
Sophie leaned back against the couch. "Tell about it. I had to sit out a shoot last month because I got sick. They replaced in the campaign. That was fun."
Benjamin turned to her. "Wait, really?"
She waved a hand. "Yeah, whatever. It happens. But the point is, things move on. You’re still a key player, and one injury won’t change that."
He exhaled. "Easy for you to say."
Sophie smirked. "Oh, please. You footballers act like missing one or two gas is the end of the world. Try standing in heels for eight hours straight."
Benjamin chuckled. "Yeah, I’ll pass on that."
She grinned, satisfied. "Good. Now, since we’re both stuck here tonight, let’s order food. Adam’s at training, and I’m too lazy to cook. You picking or am I?"
Benjamin shook his head, a small smile forming. "You pick. Just don’t get anything weird."
Sophie grabbed her phone. "No promises."
She scrolled through the food delivery app, humming to herself. Benjamin stretched out on the couch, shifting his leg carefully. The ache was still there, but it was manageable.
"So," she said, tapping on her screen. "Thai or Italian?"
Benjamin thought for a second. "Italian."
"Good choice," she nodded. "Pasta or pizza?"
"Both."
She raised an eyebrow. "Greedy."
He smirked. "I’m hungry."
Sophie rolled her eyes but placed the order. "Fine. But you’re paying."
Benjamin groaned. "Of course I am."
She set her phone down and turned to face him. "So, what’s the plan for Sunday? You watching the ga at the stadium or from here?"
"Here," he said, adjusting his position on the couch. "Coach doesn’t want traveling with the squad unless I have to. Says I should focus on recovery."
She nodded. "Makes sense. Still, it must be weird, watching from ho."
"Yeah," he admitted. "It’s been a while."
Sophie studied him for a mont. "Bet you’ll be shouting at the TV like a lunatic."
Benjamin smirked. "Only if they ss up."
She grinned. "So, definitely shouting, then."
He chuckled. "Probably."
Silence settled between them for a mont. The only sound was the low hum of the TV in the background.
Sophie shifted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You know, you don’t always have to be in football mode. You could— I don’t know—relax for once?"
Benjamin shot her a look. "I am relaxing."
She raised an eyebrow. "Brooding over a match you can’t play in is not relaxing."
He sighed, running a hand down his face. "I just... I hate feeling useless."
"You’re not useless," she said firmly. "You’re injured. There’s a difference."
He nodded but didn’t say anything.
Sophie picked up a cushion and smacked him lightly with it. "Now, stop being dramatic and help pick a movie before the food gets here."
Benjamin shook his head, smirking. "You’re so bossy."
She grinned. "And you’re slow. Hurry up."
He grabbed the remote and started scrolling through the options. It wasn’t the sa as being on the pitch, but at least for tonight, he had a distraction.
"Romance or apocalyptic movie?" Benjamin asked, still flipping through the options.
"Romance is gross. I’d prefer a good apocalypse movie," Sophie said without hesitation.
Benjamin nodded, impressed. "That’s a good choice."
"Obviously," she smirked. "Now, what do we have here?"
He squinted at the screen, whispering to himself. "The Bay, Aftershock, The Cabin in the Woods..." He scrolled down further before his eyes lit up. "This one! 2012. It’s peak cinema."
Sophie leaned closer, peering at the screen. "Classic end-of-the-world chaos. I like it."
Benjamin grinned. "Exactly. Big explosions, people making dumb decisions, and a ridiculous survival story. What more do you need?"
She grabbed a blanket and curled up on the couch. "Alright, hit play. Let’s see how humanity crumbles."
Benjamin did as she said, then relaxed into the cushions. For the first ti in days, football wasn’t on his mind.
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