The following afternoon, Akin found himself walking through the sterile, brightly lit corridors of Homerton University Hospital.
Because Alicia was a senior nurse here, she navigated the labyrinth of hallways with effortless familiarity, greeting passing colleagues with warm smiles.
Akin trailed slightly behind her, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. He felt a strange mixture of apprehension and relief.
They stopped outside a frosted glass door bearing a small, neat plaque: Dr. Katherine Haggelton – Sports & Clinical Psychology.
Alicia didn't bother knocking. She pushed the door open, her face lighting up. "Kat, are you decent?"
"For you? Always."
Sitting behind a tidy, oak desk was Dr. Katherine "Kat" Haggelton. At thirty-five, the Irish-born psychologist carried an air of sharp intelligence softened by a deeply approachable warmth.
She stood up, smoothing down her smart trousers, and walked around the desk to pull Alicia into a tight hug.
"It's good to see you, Ali," Kat smiled, her soft Irish lilt instantly filling the room. She then turned her gaze down to Akin, her eyes widening in genuine shock. "And this must be Akin. Look at the size of you! Five foot four already? The last time I saw you in person, you were barely walking."
"It's nice to finally meet you," Akin replied, managing a small, polite smile.
"Oh, none of that formal nonsense," Kat laughed, waving a hand. "You call me Auntie Kat, understand?"
When his mother had mentioned a "friend" in the sports medicine department last night, Akin hadn't realized she was talking about the elusive godmother he had heard so much about but had never actually seen.
As his adult mind had matured and absorbed the history of his new family, he had learned exactly how vital Katherine Haggelton was to their lives.
Ten years ago, Alicia had been a young mother in her early twenties, hospitalized at Whipps Cross after giving birth.
The joy of Akin's arrival had been violently shattered just days later when Joseph Adeleke—a professional striker for a League Two side—was killed in a devastating car accident.
Alicia had been entirely alone in the UK. She was a fresh, grieving widow with a newborn baby, completely isolated and suffocating under the weight of her sudden tragedy.
Kat had been doing her clinical placement at the hospital at the time. Seeing the young mother spiral into shock and depression, Kat had stepped in.
She visited on her breaks, sat with Alicia through the darkest hours of her grief, and helped her navigate the agonizing transition into single motherhood.
Through that trauma, an unbreakable bond was forged. Just as Brian had been named Akin's godfather to honor Joseph, Kat had been named his godmother to honor the woman who saved Alicia's life.
However, shortly after Akin turned two, Kat had moved back to Dublin to complete her doctorate and clinical fellowships.
She had only recently returned to London to take this prestigious post at Homerton, which was why Akin had no actual memory of her.
But today, Akin wasn't here for a family reunion. He needed Dr. Haggelton.
"Take a seat, you two," Kat said, gesturing to the comfortable armchairs opposite her desk. As they sat down, the casual warmth in her eyes sharpened into something much more focused and clinical.
There was a hint of professional concern in her posture.
"Right," Kat began, leaning forward and resting her hands on her desk. "You mentioned on the phone that he needed to talk to someone, Ali.
What's the issue?"
Alicia glanced at her son, giving his shoulder a supportive squeeze before looking back at her friend. "Well, as you know, Akin has been playing football for a while now. He's been doing incredibly well."
"I remember you mentioning he signed a schoolboy contract with the Arsenal football Academy," Kat nodded, clearly impressed.
"Yes," Alicia affirmed. "But because of his technical ability, they haven't kept him with the eleven and twelve-year-olds. They placed him up with the Under-15s.
He's playing against boys who are fourteen and fifteen years old. Which means, despite how tall he is for his age, he is still significantly outclassed in sheer weight and physical maturity."
Kat nodded slowly in understanding, her analytical mind already connecting the dots. "That makes sense. Playing up multiple age groups is a massive psychological strain. Your technical skill might be ready, but your younger body intrinsically knows it cannot handle the physical impact of older, fully developed players."
She turned her attention entirely to Akin, offering a small, encouraging smile. "So, Akin. Why don't you tell me what's going on in your head? How can I help?"
Akin looked down at his hands. Even though it was Auntie Kat, admitting his fear still stung his adult pride. He took a deep breath, recalling the agonizing phantom pain that haunted his matches.
"When I play in the academy games," Akin started, his voice steady but quiet, "I find myself avoiding the bigger boys. My mind knows exactly what pass to make, or exactly how to win a 50/50 challenge... but when the tackle comes, my body won't listen. I freeze."
He looked up, meeting Kat's gaze with an intense, vulnerable honesty. He couldn't tell her about his past life. He couldn't tell her that he was carrying the trauma of a career-ending injury from a timeline that no longer existed. So, he gave her the closest, most logical truth he could muster.
"I'm terrified of my knee snapping," Akin confessed, the words hanging heavily in the quiet office. "When they rush at me, all I can picture is the impact. I pull out of challenges. I make mistakes because I'm playing with fear. I want to be the best, but my brain is too busy trying to survive the match to actually let me play it."
Kat studied him carefully. There was no pity in her eyes, only deep, validating comprehension.
"What you're experiencing is a completely natural self-preservation instinct, Akin," Kat explained softly. "Your brain is perceiving a massive physical threat, and it's overriding your tactical training to protect your body. It's incredibly frustrating, but it means your mind is working exactly the way it's supposed to."
She picked up a sleek pen, tapping it gently against her notepad. "So. What do you want to do about it?"
Akin sat up slightly straighter. The hesitation vanished, replaced by the fierce, unwavering conviction of a man who refused to let his second chance slip through his fingers.
"I want to rewire it," Akin stated firmly. "I want to be confident. I want to stop shying away from confrontation and play at my absolute highest level, no matter how big the player running at me is."
Kat held his gaze for a long moment. Then, a slow, brilliant smile spread across her face.
She clicked her pen open. "Then why don't we get started?"