C O D E W O R D | neymar jr

XLV

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My heart skipped a beat as I watched a woman walk into the restaurant, her blonde shoulder-length hair swaying beside her as she politely smiled at me.
"Sorry if I’m late," She said as she began to look at the menu. "I had to take care of some things."

"I hope everything is well taken care of." I quipped, and instantly tension began to rise, only to be shattered by the arrival of the waiter.

"Posso começar com algumas bebidas para você?" The teenage girl asked, and I saw Carol share a smug smile as she assumed my knowledge of Portuguese was the same as the last time we met.

"Eu vou querer um vinho tinto." I replied to the waiter, my accent harsh yet understandable as she squinted her eyes at me.

"O mesmo para mim." She added it to the waiter's checklist. After the waiter walked away, I was met with her dark nails tracing her cheek.

"I didn’t know you were learning Portuguese," I said, interrupted as I began to speak. "You must be serious this time."

"Actually," I began to say, and her eyebrows lifted. I lifted my hand to reveal my ring, a princess-cut trilogy taking up half the space of my finger in a way I deemed classically flashy. "We’re getting married!"

Her face was always deemed kind; from her large eyes to her wide smile, a resting bitch face didn’t exist on her face (something I was extremely jealous of).
Yet now her face seemed disapproving as she glared at my hand as I slowly placed it back down.

"Talk me through how you’re going to marry a man when you have no connection to his son." She queried, and I knew whatever I said was going to be met with immediate resentment.

"That’s why I’m here," I began. "I think that we have both grown so much, and it’s been ten years since this whole fiasco. So I was asking if I could have a relationship with Davi or at least be allowed to be near him."

"It has been a while, and I was over it. Why should you have a right to see my son when I’ve seen how flaky you are with Neymar? How many times have you broken up now? Five? Six?"

"We've done it three times, and each time it made sense, but now we’re in a scenario where we want to commit." I sighed. "Listen, if I marry him, I will probably be near Davi anyway; I just wanted to make sure we were on good terms."

"We have never been on good terms, and just because you want to marry him now doesn’t grant you a pass." She lowered her voice as our drinks were served, allowing us both to try to ease ourselves with alcohol. "Just because you want things to change doesn’t mean they will."

We both sat in silence for a second to recoup ourselves, ordering our meals as I realised this would be a longer conversation than I had once hoped.

"How do you expect things to change when you’ve never accepted my apology?" I questioned her, and she scoffed at me.

"I don’t have to accept your apology!" She began to yell but stopped herself. "I don’t want you near my son; you have to accept that."

My lip tugged upwards as I reached into my purse, pulling out a file filled with documents. "Either you accept my apology and at least pretend to be nice to me, or I will be fighting for custody of Davi, forcing him to stay with his father as I play doting stepmother."

I watched her eyes widen in shock as she began to leave the table. "I would take a look at this before you go."

Hesitantly, she looked at the papers, her face turning into a sour expression as she continued to flip the pages. "What is this?" She asked, "Where did you get these pictures?"

"This is a twelve-page document that paints you out to be a party animal and a neglectful mother, with pictures of you doing weed and other substances and witness statements from old friends and relatives, and I can prove you were in your custody time with Davi during every single piece of evidence."

"What is wrong with you?" She asked as she threw the booklet at me. I shrugged as I knew this was a harsh thing to do, yet I knew it was something worth doing as she would never accept my apology and would do anything to keep me away from my future stepson.

"There’s a thing on the back that states you will not speak badly of me, you will not purposefully keep Davi away from his father if we get married, and you will respect the family I’m creating," I stated as I turned and pointed towards the paper. A pen in hand.

My heart was beating out of my chest, and I was hoping she’d ignore how much my hand was shaking as she placed her hands against the sides of her head to think.

Usually, this would be something I would never do; a mother's choice should always be respected, yet it was my last resort.

She rolled her eyes as she took the pen from between my fingers and slid her signature along the paper. "Welcome to the family." She grumbled as she handed the papers back to me in a huff. "The family name will fit you well."

I gave a half-lipped smile before snatching the papers and shoving them into my purse.

"I won’t overstep my boundaries," I promised. "I just hope one day you’ll know I am sorry."

I began to walk away, but she stopped me. "You already ordered."

About midway through the extremely awkward yet delicious meal, I heard her speak again.

"You started dating him when I was three months pregnant, and now he’s twelve years out of the womb and you’re still dating him." She stared out at the ocean next to the restaurant. "Maybe it is fate."

"Or maybe fate isn’t real, and maybe it is just a lot of mess." I joked.

She laughed as we clinked our glasses together. "To a life of being connected through the mess."

"Cheers to that," I added before we chugged down the drinks.
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A/N: I started college and everything in my life feels so different that I neglected this story but thank you all for the privilege of doing what I love and that is writing. Now continue writing and enjoy what I've written foe all of you ;)