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Madrid, Spain 3 days later.

My phone rings yet again. I can’t keep ignoring the calls. With a sigh I answer.

“Hello?”

“ABOUT BLOODY TIME! I HAVE ONLY CALLED YOU ABOUT 100 TIMES! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

“Why don’t you ask Harry?”

A sigh.

“You know he only said what he did out of hurt and anger,”

“Right. Because you know everything Harry thinks,” I say sarcastically.

“Look, we have to talk. Where are you?”

“The Santiago Bernabeu,”

“You are in Madrid?”

“Yup.”

“When are you coming back?”

“Kate. I am not going back to London. There is nothing left for me there.”

“You are wrong about that,”

“Kate. It is over ok?”

“Only because you want it to be,” she shoots back.

“Kate, please. Don’t be difficult. I made up my mind, there is no turning back.”

“You know AJ, when you decided to break up with Harry, you broke up with us as well. I thought we were friends,” Kate says softly.

“Kate, I love you. You are so dear to me but right now, with how fresh things are, maybe we should pause our friendship. Harry doesn’t need you to be friendly with someone whom he probably considers an enemy.”

“You are crazy!”

The tears well up again. I have been crying so much over this.

“I have to go Kate,” I choke out and hang up.

I thought coming to the stadium would help me cheer up. Goodness knows how long I have been obsessed with Real Madrid and have dreamt of coming here. I drop my head into my hands crying. I wish I hadn’t messed up so badly with Harry. I wish that I were back in London planning my wedding to him, but instead, I sit here alone.

“Hey you!” a voice shouts.

Startled I look up. A dark figure is walking towards me. I sit nervously; maybe I am going to get kicked out. He reaches me and I realize that it is Sergio Ramos. He peers at me suspiciously.

“What are you doing sitting out here?” he questions in accented English.

“I’m just thinking,” I reply honestly.

“You look familiar. Have we met?”

I nod.

“We met in England at the Manchester United game,” I remind him.

He looks me over and then nods.

“Right. You were with the prince. You look… a bit different,”

I snort with sarcastic laughter. I know what a mess I must be. Taking out a mirror to check what I look like I wince. My eyes are wet and blood-shot; my skin is pasty white though the circles under my eyes make me rival a raccoon. I look up at Sergio.
“Yeah, I can see why you don’t recognize me,” I sigh.

He hesitates and sits down in the seat next to me.

“Are you ok? I mean obviously you aren’t but…”

“I’ll be fine. Just typical girl problems,”

“Is Prince Harry here?”

“Nope. Just me.”

Sergio stands up.

“You hungry?”

I stare out at the field. The greenness of the grass stretches out and frankly I want to run barefoot across it. I tell Sergio my thoughts.

“So do it,” he encourages.

I want to say no. I want to explain my fears but really. Haven’t my fears done enough damage? I slip my shoes off and stand up. Looking at Sergio I flash him and smile and run down racing across the grass. I burst out laughing, giddy with happiness. I am only 19 and yet I tend to forget that. I forget I am still young and should be having fun. I have always been expected to be an adult, not a child and to be doing something so carefree for once I fling away my worries. I scream loudly taking it in and do a cartwheel.

Sergio jogs up to me and laughs.

“That was quite the display,” he grins.

“Do you have a soccer ball? A football, whatever it’s called. Do you have one?” I demand.

“Sure I do,” he replies and runs to get it.

I stand breathing heavily and promise myself a chance at being young. Sergio returns with a ball and he teaches me passing. In my life, I took piano and violin lessons, I took ballet and enjoyed poetry, I learned how to ride a horse and serve tea. Now I am going to be a teen girl kicking a ball and then, who knows.


Later that day, Sergio and I sit together in a shabby looking but comfortable and clean restaurant.

“You will like it, I promise,” Sergio tells me of the shrimp and rice plate I have ordered.

“It smells so good,” I say as I stab my fork into a shrimp.

He watches with a smile and I carefully take a bit out of it. Flavor bursts in my mouth with the first bite.

“Oh my gosh!” I exclaim and begin to eat in earnest. I have hardly eaten in the last couple of days.

“Told you,” Sergio actually sing songs.

I sip the tea and eat more of the food, Sergio having ordered fish and we get to know each other better.

“Cris over here!” Sergio suddenly calls out.

I look up as Cristiano heads over.

“AJ? What are you doing here?” he questions when he reaches our table.

“I came to Spain for a visit,” I shrug hoping that my stupid blush isn’t making an appearance.

“Did I not give you my cell phone number? You should have called,” he says taking a seat.

“Oh. I didn’t think you were serious,” I squirm.

He gives me a strange look.

“I don’t just give out my personal cell phone number to anyone…”

“Oh,” I say again.

“No matter. You are here now. We will make the most of it no?” he questions looking at me.

“Er, yes?”

Laughing, Cris orders some food and joins in with us. I feel guilty thinking of Harry and with a sigh, push him out of my mind. Too late to fix that now.