me back and we stumble backward to the bed.
Chapter 17
Alejo
A miracle happens at a time it’s needed the most.
A week before El Clásico, with Thalia’s permission, Mateo puts me on the pitch to train alongside the team. I’ve been taking part in practice lately, and I’ve been doing a lot of training with Thalia and the assistant coach to get me to one hundred percent. I’ve been doing speedwork, corework, drills, running up a ramp while attached to weights, I’ve been giving it my all.
But this is the first time I’ve been able to fully train with my teammates without the brace.
After practice, and once Dr. Costa gives me the final once-over, I am deemed healed enough to play in the game.
I couldn’t be more elated.
All this time I’ve spent with my knee, sitting on the sidelines and watching others play the game that I love, made me realize how much the game matters to me. Being out there on that pitch, using my God-given talent and the body I’ve been blessed with, it’s like every puzzle piece in my life is sliding into place.
Yet I know that’s not just the game that’s making things fit again.
It’s Thalia.
I’ve become completely infatuated with the way she’s slipped into my life, sliding into the seams, holding everything together. There’s not a moment that goes by where I’m not thinking of her in some way. The only time my mind seems to clear of her is when I’m on the pitch, and thank God for that, because that could get messy fast.
Instead, it’s like I can’t imagine my life without her in it, which I suppose is a little dramatic, even if it’s completely true. She makes everything else make sense and grounds me while letting me soar at the same time.
She’s like the sun.
El sol de mi corazón.
The sun of my heart, but a sun that’s always rising, always beautiful, a sunrise that makes you stop and stare and wonder.
Right now, she’s standing behind me on the airport bus that’s zipping across the runway at Madrid International Airport. The whole team is packed on here, standing, holding on to the bars, and the excitement in the air is unbelievable. We’re finally all together as a team, heading to Barcelona for the annual match, and we’re going to win this fucker.
The bus comes to a stop outside our private jet, which is an Emirates plane since they’re one of our major sponsors, and when the stairway is pushed to the open door, we all start climbing into the plane.
I’m completely tempted to sit beside Thalia. I want to keep looking at her. This is the first time she’s been on a private jet (she told me as much the other day), and she’s taking it all in with complete awe and wonder, and I want to be a part of that.
But the team sits near the front and everyone else is at the back. All I can do is occasionally look over my shoulder at her, hoping to catch her eye, but she’s staring out the window with her headphones on, lost in thought.
I can’t imagine how sweet it would be to actually be with her, out in the open, nothing to hide. Can that ever happen between us? Are we forever going to be a clandestine secret, hidden behind closed doors? Can I even go much longer without telling the world how much she means to me? Feelings like this, the ones that have been building in my chest for days and weeks and months, are intense and unyielding, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep it to myself.
Granted, Luciano kind of knows, but I know he doesn’t quite understand either. I think it would be hard to see what Thalia and I have if you’re outside of it all.
But I’m inside it. Deep inside.
I don’t think there’s a way out for me.
And I don’t want there to be.
The flight to Barcelona is short. We could have taken a six-hour ride on the bus, but that leaves a chance for things to go wrong.
We land and are greeted by photographers and Madridistas with banners, shouting our names as we pass through arrivals. I smile for each and every photo, especially with so many people telling me how happy they are to have me back in the game. Every now and then I look behind me at Thalia, who trails behind with the assistant coaches, trainers, and the medical team,