The journalist's footballer (Rúben Dias)

Chapter Twenty Three

Christina

The next month goes by so quickly. I luckily get adapted to the new team I'm working with really really fast. I was surprised it was formed by almost the same amount of men and women, which means I'm no longer the odd one out.

Out of everyone, I connected immediately with Kirby. We've been hanging out outside of work a lot, and Rúben even mentioned I should have her around the apartment if I wanted to. But it still doesn't feel right, with him not being there. The only person that has stayed here a couple of nights is Sarah.

I have also fallen in love with the area where the apartment is located. I wish it wasn't so expensive so that I could rent my own place near Rúben's. I love having a park next to me to go on runs. And all the little shops around the neighbourhood are just lovely.

Even though Rúben told me a hundred times that no area in the apartment was off-limits, I try to avoid going into his room. It just doesn't feel right. But I do have to go there every day to open the window and let some fresh air in.

Also, I have gotten into the habit of smelling the Tom Ford cologne he wore during the time we spent together in Manchester. And I might or might not have sprayed a bit on my Portugal top, so it smells like him. A top that I wear as my pyjamas more often than not.

Coming back from work, I get ready to watch the first knockout match of the tournament. It's Portugal vs France. A really tough match for the Portuguese.

I've already sent my good luck message to Rúben and I can only imagine how nervous he must feel.

I'm sitting on the edge of the sofa the whole match, wearing my Rúben shirt, of course. And barely touching my snacks because of how nervous I am myself.

No team manages to score until the 87th minute when the referee gives a penalty against Portugal.

"What!!!???", I scream to the tv. "No way that's ever penalty. What the fuck, ref?"

Everyone can see that's not a penalty. The player clearly touches the ball. The commentators are saying the same and so is everyone on social media. The referee is called to check the penalty on the VAR screen and I relax a bit. Surely he's going to see his mistake, right?

But he doesn't. He still maintains that it's a penalty. And Mbappé gets ready to take it.

I don't think I've ever wanted someone to miss a penalty as much as I do right now. But there is no point in wishing because the French player scores easily to put France ahead in the game.

The decision is a huge blow for the Portuguese, who are clearly affected by it. And 10 minutes later, the match is over. Portugal is out of the World Cup.

I can see the French players celebrating, while the Portuguese are totally devastated by the defeat. The cameras show them one by one. Some are on their knees, covering their faces. Some are already up, shaking their opponent's hands. And then, there is Rúben. He's still standing, head up but his eyes are closed. I would love to know what's going through his head, but I can imagine it. He's probably blaming himself for the defeat. That's the kind of player he is.

Throughout this month, I've been able to get to know him more during our daily facetime calls. We talked about everything, including work. And he allowed me to see that he's one of those players who takes defeats to heart. He will blame himself for losing, even if he was the best player on the pitch.

He's been praised by everyone during the group stages, but I know he won't care.

I pick up my phone to send a message to him. I don't want to overwhelm him more, so I send a simple "I'm sorry ❤️". I don't even expect an answer. He can have all the time he needs to process what just happened.