CHAPTER 190: PICTURE (GT)

Lukas let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

"A lot," he admitted. "I’ve already asked my dad so many things, but he... he could only tell me what he knew. And he didn’t know everything. There are questions only she can answer. And I—" He swallowed. "I’ve been thinking about them for years. Even before this life."

Joanna nodded slowly.

"Then meet her," she said, her voice steady but gentle. "If not for anything else, then for closure. For your own peace of mind. So you don’t have to keep wondering ’why’ every time the thought of her crosses your mind."

Lukas closed his eyes again as her words sank in. She was right. Completely right.

He had spent an entire lifetime not knowing.

An entire lifetime assuming.

An entire lifetime with a cold space in his heart where the story of his mother should have been.

Now, whether he liked it or not, he finally had the chance to hear the truth from the only person who actually knew it. Directly, unfiltered.

He let out a slow breath and nodded.

"Yeah," he murmured. "You’re right. I... I need to hear it from her. I need to know why she did everything she did." He paused. "She never once reached out in my previous life. Not once. So why now? Why in this life? What’s different? What changed?" he thought to himself.

Joanna leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, lingering for a moment.

"Whatever her reasons are," she whispered, "you won’t know them unless you see her. And whatever you decide — meet her or not — I’m with you. I’m always with you."

He felt something warm spread through his chest at her words, unraveling the knot of tension that had been twisting inside him since Bremen.

Lukas reached up and gently slid his hand along her cheek.

"I don’t deserve you," he murmured.

"Yes, you do," she replied immediately, her eyes softening. "And I’m not going anywhere."

Their eyes held for a heartbeat, then another.

Lukas pushed himself up, shifting so he was sitting beside her. She looked at him with that mixture of affection and quiet strength she always carried when he needed her most.

He leaned in.

She met him halfway.

Their lips touched — soft, slow, warm. Not rushed, not hungry, but steady and grounding. A kiss that felt like an anchor in a moment of emotional upheaval.

When they pulled back, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling.

"I love you," Lukas murmured.

"I love you more," Joanna whispered back.

And this time, Lukas didn’t argue. He just smiled and kissed her again.

* * *

Joanna stayed for another half hour after the conversation, but eventually she checked the time on her phone and let out a soft groan.

"I should go," she said reluctantly. "I promised my mom I’d be home before dinner. And you need to get ready for your recovery session."

Lukas nodded, though a part of him clung to her presence. Still, he stood, stretched a little, and went to grab his training bag from the bedroom while Joanna put her coat back on.

When he returned, she was waiting for him by the door, hands tucked into her sleeves to keep warm. He slipped on his jacket, slung the bag over his shoulder, and opened the door for her.

They stepped out together into the crisp afternoon air, walking side by side down the quiet corridor of the ProfiCamp residential wing. The building felt unusually calm — most players who lived here were either resting or already at the training facility.

As they approached the exit gate, the sound of chatter and laughter floated in from outside.

Uzun, Larsson, and Knauff were coming in from the parking lot, all in training gear, all mid-joke.

Uzun spotted them first.

"Ohhh look who it is," he announced loudly, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Mr. I-disappeared-after-the-game."

Larsson’s eyebrows shot up when he saw Joanna standing beside Lukas.

"Ah, so this is the reason he left us behind in Bremen," Larsson teased. "Makes sense now."

Knauff folded his arms dramatically.

"You didn’t even tell us why you were leaving early. Just vanished. Not cool, bro."

Lukas rolled his eyes, fighting a smile. "Guys, shut up."

He gestured between Joanna and the three of them.

"This is Joanna. My girlfriend."

There was a collective, drawn-out "OHHHHHHH," and Uzun immediately stepped forward to shake her hand.

"Nice to meet you. And congratulations for somehow dealing with this guy," Uzun said, pointing at Lukas.

Knauff smirked. "Yeah, respect. He’s a menace."

Joanna laughed, not shy at all. "He’s alright. Most of the time."

"That’s generous," Larsson deadpanned.

Before Lukas could come up with a snappy comeback, Joanna turned to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and — with zero hesitation — pulled him into a full kiss.

Not a quick peck.

Not a shy brush.

A real kiss.

Soft, confident, affectionate.

Uzun, Larsson, and Knauff froze mid-breath.

Lukas himself was stunned, his eyes widening for a heartbeat before instinct took over and he leaned into it. When she finally pulled away, he looked dazed — but in the best possible way.

"Well..." Knauff blinked. "Damn."

Larsson clapped slowly, grinning. "Bro, your girlfriend is cooler than you."

Uzun nodded in full agreement.

Joanna just smiled and straightened Lukas’s shirt.

"I’ll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah," Lukas said, still smiling like an idiot. "Text me when you get home."

She waved to the boys, turned, and walked out through the gate. Lukas watched her go — and none of them noticed the man with a long-lens camera across the street, snapping photo after photo.

Within a few hours, those pictures would be sitting in the inboxes of every major German sports outlet.

But for now, Lukas had no idea.

Uzun nudged him with an elbow.

"You’re so gone for her."

"Shut up," Lukas muttered, though the smile on his face betrayed him completely.

They walked together toward the training building for the scheduled recovery session. Inside, the players were already stretching, hydrating, and slowly getting the stiffness from yesterday’s match out of their muscles.

Toppmöller approached from the far side of the hall the moment he saw Lukas.

"Lukas," he called out quietly. "Walk with me for a second."

The teammates exchanged knowing glances — as if Lukas had just been summoned by the headmaster — but Lukas followed the coach without complaint.

They stepped aside near the wall, away from the group.

"You okay?" Toppmöller asked, lowering his voice. "You seemed... off after the match. And you took time away for family reasons. All good now?"

Lukas nodded, sincere.

"Yes, coach. Thank you for checking. It’s all sorted."

Toppmöller studied his face carefully, searching for signs of strain.

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Lukas repeated. "Really. I’m good."

The coach nodded once, trusting him.

"Alright. Then let’s get to work. Light recovery today. We need you fresh for Bilbao."

"Yes, coach."

They returned to the squad, and Lukas blended in with the rest of the players, stretching out his legs as Uzun made faces at him from across the mats.

Life went on.

Training went on.

But the camera shutter from earlier had already been clicked.

The world simply didn’t know yet.