OFFSIDE

8

❝ I once believed love would be black and white, but it's golden. ❞
« ♫ ♡ ♫ »

Pablo's POV
"You were home late last night," I say as I enter the kitchen. Elena is behind the stove, preparing my breakfast. "Lost track of time," she replies.

"Didn't the museum close around eight?" I ask, furrowing my brow, and grab the coffee cup already prepared for me. "Yes, but Petra managed to arrange for us to get in after closing time. She's friends with the investor." She turns off the stove and places my egg on a plate.

With a smile, the blonde places the plate in front of me and gives me a kiss on the cheek. I briefly hold her hand and kiss it. "Thank you, Mariposa."

"What time do we need to leave?" she asks. I glance at the large clock and think for a moment. "We need to be in the car in about half an hour," I tell her. The blonde nods and sits on the other side of the table.

"What should I expect, and what should I wear?" she asks. I can see her brain working overtime.

Elena is naturally someone who doesn't like to be in the spotlight. She has both beauty and brains but prefers to stay in the background. She's a very introverted person, but once she feels comfortable, she becomes more relaxed and extroverted. I've never been ashamed to introduce her to someone. She's an elegant woman, and I'm proud to have her by my side.

"Don't stress too much about an outfit. You always look good," I smile at her. Elena looks at me and smiles. "Thank you."

"But here's what you can expect. When we arrive, I've asked most of the guys to wait by the locker room. That's when I'll introduce you to them. After that, I'll change, and you can go to the stands on the field. Fermín's sister will also come. Then I'll introduce you to the coach, and you can see how I get pushed to my limits. It takes about two hours," I explain to her.

"Okay. Sounds good. Can I bring a book?" she asks, gesturing to an old book on the table. "Sure, but would you also try to pay a bit of attention to what I'm doing?"

"Of course, but I don't think I can endure watching for two hours," the blonde bites her lip. I nod. I can imagine that if you don't understand much about football, it can be quite boring to watch. Now, everything seems more enjoyable than reading a book, but that's just me.

The morning light streams into the kitchen, casting a warm glow over the table where Elena and I sit. I'm quietly sipping my coffee, letting the familiar routine of breakfast soothe me. As I eat, my mind drifts into contemplation about the future, about us.

Elena, with her radiant smile and genuine charm, moves gracefully around the kitchen. I look up to meet her eyes, momentarily losing myself in their warmth. Yet, beneath the surface, there's a weighty topic that has been lingering in my thoughts.

Our life together has been a beautiful journey so far, filled with shared dreams and unwavering support. But, as a professional footballer, there are societal expectations, an idealized image of what a football partner should be. My mind wrestles with the conflict between the life Elena envisions for herself and the one that aligns with the demands of my career.

As I observe her, I realize that Elena, in her own right, is a person of ambitions and dreams. She has her own aspirations and desires, and I respect that immensely. But the world of professional football is unforgiving, and the expectations for partners often extend beyond the conventional boundaries of a relationship.

"Elena," I begin, my voice carefully measured, "I've been thinking about our future, about what it means for you to be with me in this world."

She looks at me, her eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "What do you mean?" she asks, her brow furrowing slightly.