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"Anastasia, what do you think about these posts?" as I fiddled with the gold bracelet on my wrist, and the anxiety in my brain intensified every single second. I made eye contact with her, but her menacing and hollow gaze caused me to dart my vision towards the ground again.
"They're disgusting and untrue; they attempt to make me the villain. I didn't verbally abuse Kylian; we simply had an argument," I defended. A bright light shone down on the interview, which was conducted through my manager to attempt to justify my behaviour.
"I want to ask the question we are all thinking. Did Kylian cheat on his fiancée?" The question sounded unreal, and all I wanted to do was yell and tell the world about all that has happened between us—the manipulation, the lies, the truth. Yet I bit my tongue, released a shaky breath, and began to speak.
"No-"
"No, I didn't cheat on the woman I plan to marry. Belle is the love of my life," he interrupted. I could hear the anger in his voice, painted over by his online character.
"Please can we allow Anastasia to answer the question," she scolded him, shooting him a half-smile, facing me again, and urging me to respond.
"No, that was a baseless rumor that I believed. Kylian did not cheat on Belle." My breath steadied, yet my gut churned as my morality battled. "We've had our history, but he has never been unfaithful while I have known him."
He held my hand in his as I felt sickness raise in my throat, apprehension lingering through my brain. We shared a fake smile, my lips curving as his eyes creased slightly. "Right," she interrupted our fabricated moment. "I'm glad we could clarify the truth. Kylian, how are you feeling about the game against Marseille coming up, especially now that Neymar has been taken out?"
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He had decided to drive me home as my ride was late. I awkwardly sat in his car, with nothing but the wind blowing through the open window. The car halted as he faced me, obviously pondering whether or not to say something to me.
"Thank you for the interview. You didn't deserve what they said about you..." I simply shrugged, attempting to get out yet he spoke again. "Do you really think I cheated on her?" He battled his inner consciousness as I stepped back into the car.
"Why does it matter what I think?" I questioned, attempting to delve deeper into his brain yet feeling his thumb against my cheek. "Kylian-"
"You're my biggest regret."
What could he possibly mean by that? Did he regret meeting me? Or did he regret losing me? My heart sank as my brain ruminated through the millions of possibilities. By this point, he had moved away from me and was looking out the front window.
"Do you regret us?"
His words made my heart sink, a question I hadn't even bothered asking myself. There was so much that had been left unsaid, so much that had not been done. I felt everything when I lost him, but did I feel regret?
"Forget it-"
"No."
Our words clashed as we spoke over each other, our voices both filled with emotion. As he heard my "no," he grabbed my face and pulled me into a kiss, and for some reason, I didn't want to pull away.
"Anastasia?" A broken voice asked, causing us both to pull away, staring at the dumbfounded young woman in front of us. "Why would you do that?"She snivelled, still in disbelief as I jumped out of the seat and ran to her, completely ignoring Kylians cries for me.
"Please, Belle..." I pleaded. She stepped back as I got closer.
"I know I deserve it. I'm being a hypocrite." I could practically feel the weight of betrayal on us both as tears trickled down her face. "But, I just never knew you could do this." Her voice broke with each word.
"He kissed me, honestly. I don't know how to convince you, but I'd never hurt anyone like this!" I begged for her forgiveness. "I'm sorry it even happened." She was shaking, her entire body completely broken as she had just witnessed treachery.
"I'm sorry I came here."
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It had been five hours since Kylian kissed me. Belle had packed up her things, and Kylian took her to a hotel. I relentlessly disagreed with it, but my opinion didn't matter as she threw her things into the bag.
"It's not your fault." He stroked my hair, his fingers playing with the strands as he spoke. My head was on his lap as we watched a movie.
"They're going to get back together." I sat up, his deep brown eyes sparkling in awe as we stared for a moment. "It's my fault!" I collapsed back onto him, feeling completely hopeless as I had already messaged her around fifty times.
"She chose to get in the car." He justified, pulling me up as we both sat cross-legged facing each other. "It was through her own free will."
"I just wish I could go back in time and delete Kylian from my life." I shouted in despair, lifting my arms over Ney, and pulling him into a hug. And that was my answer to his question. Yes, I did regret it.
"Maybe if you never dated him, we wouldn't be sitting here."
"No. I would have found a way to get you back in my life." I joked, my head leaning against his shoulder. "We would have connected anyway..."
"You think so?"
"If two people are meant to be together, they will." I stated. He gave me a disagreeing look. "Think about it, if I never went to Brazil when I was sixteen. If I never went to that party. If some guy didn't assume I was a prostitute. If Belle didn't ask to go to the World Cup."
"But that doesn't mean we're meant to be together, it means we fought to be together, and what a beautiful fight it was." He leaned in and kissed my cheek after he spoke. "I love you because we struggled, and I would go back and fight the war if it meant we were together again..."
