The late afternoon breeze stirred the leaves as Benjamin sat on the bench just outside the locker room, lacing up his boots with methodical care. His eyes glanced up when he heard footsteps approaching.

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind,” he said quietly, the corners of his mouth twitching into a knowing smile. “Football’s not always just about the game, you know. Sometimes it’s the moments in between that count.”

He stood, stretching lightly, and gestured toward the empty field. “Want to walk with me? Talk, or just clear your head. I’m good either way.” His tone was easy, inviting—like a calm harbor after a storm.