The journalist's footballer (Rúben Dias)

Chapter Twenty Two

Christina

Moving day is finally here. Knowing my stuff is on its way, I relax on the train. It's quite a long journey from Brighton to Manchester, so I brought more than one book with me.

When I finally get to Manchester, my body aches from sitting for so long. I need to decide whether I should do some yoga or take a bath. Probably both.

Closing the door behind me feels weird. This will be my place for the next two months, but it isn't mine at the same time. It's Rúben's.

I walk around the apartment, making sure everything is in order and I see a package on the kitchen table with my name on it. There is a letter next to it, so I read it first.

Dear Christina,

Welcome to Manchester! I wish I was there to help you adapt to the city, but I'm sure you'll do well on your own.

The apartment is all yours, remember. Nothing is off-limits, so please enjoy your time there while I'm gone. I know you'll take good care of everything.

I thought I'd leave you a little present, as a welcome. Though it's actually two things. One so you see I'm always thinking of you. The other so you, maybe, root for me when England isn't playing.

I haven't left when I'm writing this, yet I can't wait to be back to be a part of your new journey.

See you soon.

Rúben

I'm always thinking of you. It's the closest any of us has come to confessing any type of feelings.

I wipe the little tears from my eyes and I open the package. The first thing I see is a white shirt. A...a Spurs shirt! And it's Son's!

I see it still has grass blades on it. Oh my God! He asked Son for his shirt after the match so he could give it to me? I'm laughing and crying while hugging the shirt. It's such a thoughtful thing to do. And the suggestion that even during such a big match he was thinking about doing something like this for me. My heart couldn't be more full.

I put the shirt down for a second, so I can see what else is in the package. A red shirt? I open it to see what it is only to reveal a Portugal shirt. I turn it to see the back and I see Rúben 3 printed on it. I move my fingers over the letters forming his name with tears in my eyes and a silly grin on my face. If I wasn't falling for him before, I definitely am now.

After the bath, I put on Rúben's Portugal shirt and go to bed. Sadly, it's brand new and he hasn't worn it, but it still makes me feel like he's right there next to me.