MY FOOLISH HEART
Fandom: German National team
Pairing: Klinsmann/Loew, various
Disclaimer: I still don't know people mentioned in this story and I still hope it isn't true. The plot is still only my fantasy
Summary: we break our own hearts, we are to blame, we see the things we want to...
Author's notes, previous chapters and music here
Timeline for the series is here
My Foolish Heart
'Quit stalling', she mutters to herself looking at the entrance to the restaurant on the opposite side of the street.
The sky is dark - not because it's late, but because heavy clouds are hanging above the city. It rains and rains and rains today. And rains. The wall of water falling down from high above makes it hard to see even things that are not so far apart. Heavy summer rain - a fascinating sight by itself.
"Quit. Stalling". This time she says it out loud. Opens the door of her car before her logic may've had a chance to make her abandon the idea altogether and drive away. She opens her umbrella to prevent raindrops from splashing on her dress and crosses the street, aware of the look of determination that has settled on her face right now, even more aware of the gazes she attracts - though she's used to the later.
Scent of spices - mixed, various, exotic - is filling the hall.
"A table, my lady?"
"Thank you", she smiles charmingly, "but there's someone waiting for me".
And indeed, she is waiting already.
Daniela Löw is sitting at the table in the corner of the room just as they've agreed, and apparently she's sitting there for a very long time. Doing nothing but waiting. Patiently waiting.
It's the first time Marijana sees her - except for an odd photo in some newspaper. She takes a step forward.
The woman is simply waiting. Her head is lowered, an air of doomed expectation about her. Lamb to the slaughter, in a spiced-through hall full of people.
Looking a bit - a small bit - out of place here. Maybe because of the dress. Maybe this shyly-expectant look on her face has something to do with it. The woman in Marijana is reveling in a sense of triumph. Daniela is looking older then she should, and her profession is written all over the tired face, and this famous definition of German woman too that fits perfectly, this old adage of 'church-kitchen-children' - but no, not even that, there are no children, she knows. Not even that.
No wonder Löw is hiding his wife from everyone, when his image of a 'cool' man means so much to him. No wonder he's taken a lover, the fact that he hasn't found himself a more presentable woman to go with the image is much more surprising.
She's heard the story about the daughter of one of the club's bosses and the young ambitious player, and now, looking at the woman on the opposite side of the hall the only thing that makes her wonder is why Löw himself hasn't ended this story a long time ago.
Maybe he just can't.
And she's sitting here, and waiting - for some woman she doesn't even know to come and deliver some bad news - and there's no doubt she will believe whatever is said. And there's no doubt she won't do anything about it.
Such women just keep silence, perfect preys, lambs waiting to be slaughtered. Easy and predictable and vulnerable to the extreme.
She's come here to talk to Daniela Löw about her husband and his affairs, but now she understands that it will be nothing more but the waste of time.
It's not Daniela Löw who will be putting an end to her husband's love affair - no. Daniela Löw will not see even things that are right in front of her eyes. She will pretend that nothing is happening. A perfect wife. Comfortable to live with.
And maybe this is why her husband still doesn't leave her.
She forces her fist open. A perfect wife. Maybe it's Daniela who is a clever woman after all.
A man - good-looking, dark-grey suit, obviously expensive, looking to be in his late-thirties - smiles at her from his table and raises his glass to her. She smiles back, more out of habit then of desire to spend the evening in a company. Throws a glance to the right, at Daniela - and freezes, because the woman has a phone in her hand, and if she's going to dial a number and her own phone will ring... She's ready to bolt out of here, because... Because she doesn't want to talk with this woman anymore. Doesn't want to break a bubble she's willingly living in and doesn't want to have anything to do with her anymore. At all.
But no, her fear is clearly misplaced. Daniela just checks time and puts the phone back in the pocket. Folds her hands before her on the table. And just keeps waiting.
"Will I be forgiven for offering you my company, my lady?"
"Marijana", she smiles sweetly at the man. If she doesn't want to spend time alone, this one is no worse than any other. "But I've just decided that I don't like this place".
"Which means somewhere else will be fine?" He laughs and offers her a hand.
At the exit she turns back to look at Daniela.
She's still sitting there. Waiting.