Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110351 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110351 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“Santi is... Santi.”
She raises an eyebrow almost comically. “Care to elaborate?”
I laugh at that. “He’s amazing. Supportive. Funny. But I’m just… I’m not quite sure I’m cut out for this, you know? He asked me to come to one of his matches -”
“And you said?”
“I said… I said I’d think about it,” I admit, visibly cringing as she frowns. “I know, Sarah, trust me - I do. But it’s just… A lot, okay?! The idea of stepping into that world is just…. so intimidating, honestly.”
Sarah blinks at me with a no-nonsense expression. “Olivia Bennett. You have uprooted your life, moved to a new country and started a new career, all within the short space of a few months. In fact, scrap that - it was weeks! And now you’ve fallen for a man who clearly adores you, and you’re, what - scared because he tosses a ball for a living?!” She cocks a brow at me. “You’re stronger than you think, but if you’re not careful, you’re going to end up letting your head ruin this for you.”
I open my mouth to argue, but she cuts me off.
“Listen,” she continues, “this isn’t a commitment. Right? Nobody’s saying that you go to a match and suddenly, you’re a WAG, or something. And you don’t have to be part of the rugby scene or the celebrity stuff if you don’t want to. But what you do have to do is show up for your boyfriend if you want your relationship to work. And if it’s important to Santi, then maybe, just maybe, you should give it a try. You’ve dealt with a hell of a lot more intense situations recently, so who knows - you might just surprise yourself.”
Her words settle over me, heavy and comforting all at once. I glance at the sleeping baby in the bassinet, her tiny chest rising and falling peacefully, and wonder if Sarah is right after all.
Maybe I am just blowing all of this out of proportion and letting my imagination run wild.
“Okay,” I say finally. “I - fine. I will. I’ll go.”
Sarah grins. “Good. And if you need a pep talk beforehand, you know where to find me.”
∞∞∞
Later that evening, as I sit in my apartment, I replay the conversation in my head. I think about the lingering disappointment in Santi’s gaze when I hadn’t confirmed I’d go to his game, and Sarah’s firm but fair words of encouragement swirl around my mind.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe this is another one of those moments where I need to step outside of my comfort zone and take a chance, but also remember that I’ve dealt with far scarier things this year.
I pick up my phone and text him before I can overthink it.
I’ll come to your match.
Maybe it’s a little too harsh. Perhaps I should have said something else - thrown an emoji there, or something.
His reply comes almost instantly, though, so it’s too late to go back now.
You just made my week, mi cielo.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Remind me again why I’m going through with this?”
I stand in front of my open wardrobe, my hands on my hips and my stomach tying itself into knots. Santi’s match is in a few hours, and the thought of stepping into his world feels far more intimidating now than it did when I’d texted him my yes.
“Because you’re in lo-ove,” Laura says in a sing-song voice.
We’re on a video call, and my phone is propped up in the centre of my wardrobe, meaning she has a head-to-toe view of my body.
“What do you even wear to a rugby match?” I complain, pointedly ignoring her comment.
I’ve already pulled out a number of outfit options and have tossed them onto my bed, not satisfied with anything so far. I want to look nice, of course, but not like I’m trying too hard.
Casual chic, as Laura calls it.
Eventually, I settle on a pair of high-waisted jean shorts, a cropped cream blouse that’s pretty but flattering, and a pair of tan sandals that twist up around my mid-calf. The April weather is smouldering, but I drape a light cardigan over my arm anyway, just in case it’s a little chillier at the stadium. I add gold hoop earrings and a small necklace to finish off the look and sweep a tad more bronzer across my cheeks, trying to keep my makeup light but polished.
Laura wolf-whistles down the phone, and though the sound has me rolling my eyes, I can’t help but grin, too.
I wish she was here with me, though. I could really do with a hand to hold right now.
I glance in the mirror and catch myself fidgeting with the hem of my blouse. I force my hands to still, dropping them down by my sides.
Relax, Olivia. It’s just a match, I tell myself. No one’s going to be staring at you.