Chapter 17: Part of the Team
Alex folded his hands over the desk and waited. The tension in the air wasn’t sharp, but it was thick, like the aftermath of a storm that hadn’t quite left.
Krstović and Banda sat down across from him. For a moment, no one spoke. The silence stretched, not awkward, but weighty. Alex studied the two men. They were young, both of them, but not green. They’d seen enough, played enough, endured enough pressure to know the consequences of their actions. Still, their body language now wasn’t defiant. If anything, they looked uneasy, even a little vulnerable.
Krstović was the first to speak, his voice low but unwavering.
"I just want to start by saying I’m sorry," he said. "For not showing up to the extra session."
Alex didn’t reply right away. He let the words linger, let them breathe in the space between them. Sometimes silence said more than a reprimand.
"I wasn’t trying to disrespect you," Krstović continued. "It’s just... when you called that session for the forwards, it felt like you were saying we’re not good enough. That I’m not good enough."
His voice caught slightly at the end, and Alex saw something in his eyes that wasn’t just frustration—it was doubt. The kind that eats away quietly when expectations aren’t met.
Next to him, Lameck Banda nodded slowly, then leaned forward.
"I felt the same," he said. "I know I’ve not had the best few months. I’ve been struggling. But after one training session, I’m left out of the squad completely. It hurt, coach. Felt like... like you’d already given up on me."
His voice didn’t shake, but the pain in it was clear. Banda wasn’t angry. He was disappointed, and more than that, he felt forgotten.
Alex let out a slow breath and leaned forward, elbows resting on the edge of the desk. His gaze shifted between the two of them.