were no guarantees in love but it didn’t matter because Jose not only gave us his blessing but said she was free to come back.
“As long as it doesn’t affect her work or your game, I really don’t care what you do,” Jose said in that mild way of his.
Mateo and I exchanged a look. If only we had known from the beginning.
And so after that, Thalia came back, welcomed with open arms.
She got her apartment back, same one as before, an apartment I’m secretly trying to buy for her. She lived with me for about a month, but preferred downtown Madrid to the suburbs, so we’re currently splitting our time between both places (and sometimes Valdebebas, of course).
As for the ring?
Well, it’s currently burning a hole in my ankle.
I know Thalia had wondered why I didn’t want her wrapping my ankles before the game tonight, something she usually does for me. I had David do it instead. I played it off as some silly Spanish superstition about not letting a loved one wrap your ankles before a game, and I think she may have actually believed me.
And so David was able to stick that ring in there tight.
And now, now is the time to let it out, while there is so much joy in the air, pure poetry and chaos, while the world is watching.
So they know just how serious I am about her.
And how my love won’t die.
I pull back from Thalia, kissing her softly on the lips, aware of both David and Mateo watching me out of the corners of their eyes as they continue on celebrating.
I drop down on one knee and start pull down my sock, start to undo the ankle wrap.
Thalia watches me, concerned.
“Did you hurt your ankle?” she yells at me over the din of the celebration.
I smile to myself and find the ring.
I pull it out of the wrap.
I look back up to her and take her hand.
I bring the ring between us, the sparkle of the massive, ten-carat square-cut diamond ring glittering under the stadium lights, nearly blinding me.
“Thalia,” I say to her, projecting my voice so she can hear it.
She stares down at me in complete shock, hand at her chest, mouth open, her beautiful eyes big and round as she takes me and that iceberg-sized ring in.
Suddenly, the world around us fades away. I’m vaguely aware that some people are watching this scene unfold, while others are still celebrating, jumping into the stands, tearing off shirts, shaking hands with the other team, and all of that.
But that doesn’t matter right now.
It’s only her.
Only me.
Only us.
“Oh my god,” I see her mouth the words. “Alejo.”
I had a whole speech planned. There are so many things I wanted to say to her, to let her know just what she means to me and how I feel about her, even though I tell her such things every day.
But now, I realize, she probably won’t hear half of it with all this noise.
And when it comes down to it, there’s only one thing I need to say, one question that needs answering.
“Mi corazón,” I tell her, trying not to yell but the words are powered by my heart and the adrenaline of the game, the fact that I’m doing this right now, right here. “I may have won the cup but you have won my heart. You’ve had it all this time. And now all I need, all I want, is you, with me, forever. Thalia, te amo, will you become Mrs. Albarado? Will you be my wife? Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” she cries out, tears at the corners of her eyes, her smile brighter than the sun. “Sí, sí, sí. I will Alejo, I will.”
I laugh because my heart might just explode from love. I slip the ring on her finger, letting her admire it for a moment, and then I’m getting up, pulling her into me, holding the back of her head and kissing her with everything I’ve got.
The cheers around us get even louder, deafening, as flashbulbs go off and people start clapping.
I pull back and we look around to see Mateo, Luciano and David, and everyone else applauding, cheering, smiling, and I realize just how much I’ve won and how lucky I am.
“Oh my god,” she says as realization dawns on her. “What would you have done if you had lost?”
“I still would have asked you and it still would have been the happiest day of my life.” I