The journalist's footballer (Rúben Dias)

Chapter Thirty Two (Final Chapter)

Rúben

"How about on my birthday?"

"What? No. That day should be about you, not about who you are dating", argues Christina.

And this is what we've been doing for the last half an hour. We've been dating for 5 months now, and I believe it's time to go public. But she's still scared about the idea. The day of her birthday, I posted a simple photo of our hands, wishing her a happy birthday and I got inundated with comments asking who she was. That only scared her more. And I get it, dating a footballer isn't easy but I'm also tired of having to hide her.

"Then when? When we win the Prem? Maybe after the trophy ceremony. We can get photos with my family and just post that".

"We don't know if you'll win the Prem yet", she says, seriously.

"I can't believe you are rooting against your boyfriend and your employers", I say, groaning at her stubbornness again.

"You've won so many leagues already. Let Spurs have one. Besides, the trophy that matters is the Champions League. So you better beat Real to win that one".

"Don't change the subject", I tell her, annoyed about how this is the only thing we can't agree on.

"How about the holidays? We are going away. I won't work so I can forget about my phone and that means I won't be tempted to read all those mean comments".

"Why do you assume the comments will be mean?"

"Because I'm not five, Rúben", she says, leaving me alone on the sofa.

Holidays then, cool. I'm sure she'll find an excuse when we are there.

**

We win the Premier League with one match to spare. Everyone is teasing Christina about it, who just tells them all to leave her alone and grow up. I use that opportunity to hug her even with the cameras filming us. Everyone else is doing the same, why can't I?

When I notice her tensing, I take my medal off and put it around her neck.

"There you go, now it's almost as if Spurs won".

She shoves me playfully but doesn't remove the medal until we go to dinner to celebrate the win.

That small gesture isn't missed by the press or my fans. And soon there are comments all over social media about us. I try to go through them to see what they are saying but I can only rewatch the interaction over and over again. The way she looks at me after shoving me, the way she smiles touching the medal after I have left...I know she loves me, but seeing that clip makes my heart beat so fast.

Christina takes it surprisingly well. Even goes as far as to like a few tweets of people defending her. One catches my attention: all the people talking about her and her interactions with the players, and especially Dias, are just sick. Women can be friends with men, you know? And if she's dating one of them, so what? Good for her. Mind your own business.

Maybe we'll get there by the holidays.

Christina

May is a busy month. Between Rúben's birthday and the Premier League celebrations, we've all been so busy. But there is still one last match. The Champions League final.

Rúben and I have been very professional whenever I got to travel with the team. He knows how important this is for me. But on the day of the final, I can't help and go to his room before everyone wakes up.

"What...Christina?", he says, still half asleep, when he opens the door.

"I wanted to spend some time with you before the madness begins", I tell him, hugging him.

"Come to bed with me".

We just cuddle there for another hour, talking about the match, what we'll do once the season is over and other silly things. Just keeping each other company and trying to fight the nerves for tonight.

"I love you, Rúben. And no matter what happens tonight, I'm incredibly proud of you. Always".

"I love you more, amor. You have no idea how much".

After the longest hug, since none of us wants to leave the embrace, we go downstairs to have breakfast and to get ready for the day. Big day, hopefully with a happy ending.

**

2-2 in the 91st minute and Real have a corner. Images of all the times they have scored right in this specific moment come to mind. I think every City fan in the stadium is holding their breath, thinking the same. But Rúben outsmarts the Spanish forward to send the ball out of the box. Kevin gets it and one of the Real players has no other option but to foul him to prevent him from having a one vs one with Courtois.

Kevin himself will take the free kick. And then, it all happens so quickly, but also so slowly. The ball gets to the box, where Rúben heads it ...to score the winning goal.

Everyone starts screaming and celebrating but I freeze. I can't believe what just happened.

After the celebrations, there are still 40 more seconds to play. The most important seconds of the season.

And then, the referee blows the whistle. Manchester City are the Champions League winners after beating Real Madrid 3-2.

All the players, bench included, run to Rúben to celebrate with him. I walk slowly to where they are, being stopped multiple times by players and staff members hugging me and congratulating me for Rúben's goal. But I barely notice them.

When Ruben turns and sees me, he smiles and mouths "we did it". And I can't hold it any longer. I sprint towards him and he opens his arms for me. I hug him and wrap my legs around his waist.

"I'm so so so proud of you", I tell him, before kissing him.

Screw the cameras, the fans and anyone that might have a problem with this.

I hold his face and look at his teary eyes. "You did it".