lover boy

Chapter 56

Jude Bellingham

The roar of the stadium was deafening, but inside my head, it was eerily quiet. The sound of the national anthems, the cheering crowds, and my teammates all felt like a distant hum, something on the periphery of my senses. My heart was racing, my breath coming in short, shallow bursts as I stood on the pitch, staring ahead, trying to focus. The European Championship final—the pinnacle of every footballer's career—was about to begin. This was supposed to be the moment I had dreamed of my whole life, but my thoughts kept drifting somewhere else. Or rather, to someone else.

Cecilia.

She should've been here. I should've felt her presence in the crowd, cheering me on like she had done so many times before. But now, the emptiness was overwhelming, a gaping hole in my chest where she should have been.

I tried to push the thoughts of her away. I needed to focus on the game, on the 90 minutes ahead, on Spain—the team that had been nearly impossible to beat throughout the tournament. I needed to win this match, not just for my country but for myself, for everything I had worked toward. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about Cecilia.

She was gone now, on her way to New York, chasing her dream, and I should've been happy for her, proud even. But all I could feel was the weight of her absence pressing down on me, heavier than any expectation or pressure from the game. I felt like I was losing something more than just a relationship. I was losing a part of myself.

The referee blew the whistle, and the match began. The first half was a blur, the game moving so quickly that I could barely keep up. We fought hard, but Spain dominated, controlling the ball with their precision passing and quick footwork. Despite our efforts, they struck first, sending the ball flying into the back of our net with a clinical finish.

I felt the sting of that goal deep in my chest, but I pushed it down. There was still time. We could come back. We had to.

Halftime came and went in a flurry of tactical adjustments and motivational speeches, but all I could think about was Cecilia—her smile, her laugh, the way she always seemed to know when I needed her most. My chest tightened. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

When the second half started, we fought back with everything we had. We managed to equalize with a brilliant counterattack, and for a brief moment, hope surged through me. But then, in the final minutes of the game, Spain broke through our defense again. Their forward struck with lethal accuracy, and just like that, the ball was in the back of the net.

2-1.

My heart sank. Time ticked away, and we couldn't find a way back. The final whistle blew, and the roar of the Spanish fans filled the stadium. I stood there, frozen, my body numb, my mind refusing to accept what had just happened.

We had lost.

This was supposed to be the game of my career, the match that defined everything I had worked for. And now it was over, slipping through my fingers like sand. The weight of the defeat was crushing, but there was something else, something worse gnawing at me from the inside.

Cecilia.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I had lost more than just the game. I had lost her, too. The love of my life. I had let her go without telling her how much she meant to me, without fighting for her like I should have. And now she was gone, just like the championship.

I walked off the pitch in a daze, the sounds of celebration from the Spanish players barely registering. My teammates tried to console me, but their words fell on deaf ears. All I could think about was how everything I had worked for, everything I had dreamed of, was gone.

When I reached the tunnel leading to the locker rooms, I couldn't hold it in anymore. The disappointment, the regret, the overwhelming sense of failure—I felt it all crashing down on me. I had lost it all, and I didn't know how to get it back.

I trudged into the locker room, barely aware of my surroundings. I just wanted to be alone, to escape from the world for a while. My hands were shaking as I slumped onto the bench, staring at the floor, my mind racing with thoughts of Cecilia, of everything we could have been.

And then, I heard footsteps.

They were soft at first, almost hesitant, but growing louder as they approached. I thought it was one of my teammates coming to check on me, but something about the sound made me pause. I slowly lifted my head, and when I turned around, I couldn't believe my eyes.

It was her.

Cecilia stood there, just a few feet away, looking at me with those eyes I had missed so much. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming, that my mind was playing tricks on me. But she was real—she was here.

"Cecilia?" My voice was barely above a whisper, disbelief coloring every word.

She didn't say anything at first, just took a step toward me, her expression soft but determined. And in that moment, I realized that despite everything, despite the game, despite New York, despite the distance between us, she had come back.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I stood, my heart pounding in my chest. I crossed the distance between us in an instant, and before I knew it, I had her in my arms, holding her tight, afraid to let go.

"I couldn't leave without seeing you," she cried, her voice trembling slightly. "I couldn't leave without telling you how much you mean to me. All my life I put my career first, but through you I learned that life has so much more to offer. I love you, Jude."

My heart swelled with emotion, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on my chest began to lift. "I thought I lost you, love," I admitted, my voice thick with emotion. "I thought I'd lost everything."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at me with a soft smile. "You haven't lost me, Jude. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

And in that moment, everything else faded away—the loss, the disappointment, the pressure. None of it mattered anymore. All that mattered was that she was here, that we were together.

I kissed her then, a kiss filled with all the love, regret, and hope I had been holding inside for so long. And as our lips met, I knew that no matter what the future held, no matter where life took us, we would face it together.

Cecilia Anderson. The most beautiful girl in the world. The love of my life and, hopefully, the mother of my children. Never again in my life will I let her go. Some might see the championship as a loss for me, but no. Today is the day I celebrate the greatest victory of my life. Her. My love.

THE END