The journalist's footballer (Rúben Dias)

Chapter Twenty One

Rúben

With Spurs only four points behind us, this match is a must-win. We need to head to the World Cup securely at the top of the league.

I laugh reading Christina's message.

"I won't wish you good luck today because I hope you lose".

"This is technically your team now, so..."

"Not my team when you play Spurs, it says so in the contract. Sorry!"

To be honest, it wouldn't surprise me if she tried to add that to the contract. A contract I talked about with Tom. The moment I asked him about it and about Christina, he only told me that no, there isn't a rule that forbids her from dating the players.

Well, interesting that he knew that was what I wanted to know. He had a good laugh seeing my face. I'm that obvious.

When we head to the pitch, I know there are two targets for me today. Winning and doing something else. I immediately find the person who can help me with one of those tasks and he is on board with it. Perfect.

The match, however, is not perfect. We lost Grealish at the beginning of the second half when he got his second yellow card and Spurs managed to get a 78th-minute equalizer through Son.

"I guess a draw is ok.

Also, you were amazing today. MOTM performance 😉❤️"

How does she manage to put a smile on my face with just a few words?

Pep wishes all of us going to the World Cup luck and tells us he'll see us when we are back.

I can't help but have mixed emotions about leaving.

Christina

These last few days in Brighton are all I needed. Seeing my parents, catching up with my sister and spending hours playing with my nephew. The smile hasn't left my face the entire time.

"Chris? Can you come here a sec?", asks my mother when the match ends.

"Sure. What is it?"

"What is going on between you and this Rúben guy?"

I blush and try to think of how I can deflect this.

"Don't try and deny it. I'm your mother, darling. You are going to live in his apartment. You have visited him before in Manchester. And I could see the way your face lit up when he was shown on tv".

That only makes me blush more. "There is nothing going on, mum".

"Yet, you mean?", she says with a knowing smile.

"Maybe".

She sees me trying to get my hair out of my face and goes behind me to braid it. She can make me feel like an 8-year-old with just one small gesture.

"Just be careful, ok? I know footballers seem like a very attractive option, but many don't have good intentions".

"Mum..."
"I know, Rúben is not like that", she says, finishing my braid and turning me so I look at her. "I want to believe that more than you. But just be careful, ok? I know you are a smart woman. I trust your good instinct. But still".

"I will be careful", I say, hugging her.

"Just tell him that if he hurts you, Portugal isn't far away enough. I'll find him", says my dad when he gets inside the kitchen.

I snort. "Ok, dad!"

"It wasn't a joke", he shrugs.