On the Pitch: Diego's Story

Chapter 20

Diego's POV

The moment my feet hit Argentine soil, a wave of relief washed over me. There was something about being back home—the warmth in the air, the way people spoke, the streets that felt familiar even after so much time away. It felt like a different world from the cold, rigid atmosphere I'd just left behind in Salzburg. But I pushed those thoughts out of my head. Right now, I wasn't Diego, the footballer with transfer rumors swirling around him. I was just Diego, the son returning home.

As I made my way through the airport, I couldn't help but feel a buzz of excitement. My parents were waiting for me, and I hadn't seen them in person for months. The distance had made me miss their presence, and the thought of their smiles made my steps faster.

Stepping out into the arrivals section, I spotted them immediately. My mom, with her warm, teary-eyed smile, and my dad standing tall and proud beside her, waving at me.

"There's my boy!" my dad shouted, opening his arms wide.

Before I knew it, I was wrapped in a tight embrace from both of them. My mom was crying, holding onto me as if she was afraid I'd slip away.

"Diego, mi hijo, you look so grown up," she whispered, pulling back to study my face.

"Stop it, Mom, I've only been gone a few months," I chuckled, but I could feel the emotion tightening in my chest.

"You've been gone long enough," my dad chimed in, giving me a firm pat on the back. "It's good to have you back, son."

After a few minutes of talking and catching up, they led me out to the car. The drive back through the city was full of laughter and stories, my mom insisting on knowing every detail of what happened at Salzburg, while my dad reassured me I was going to be a star for Argentina. I didn't have the heart to dampen their spirits with the reality of my club situation. For now, it was enough to be back with them.

Later that afternoon, I met up with my old school friends. It was crazy how little had changed with them, despite how much my life had evolved. I had to be careful, though. Strolling through Buenos Aires in broad daylight wasn't exactly low-key for someone in my position. So I threw on a cap and a pair of sunglasses, hoping to blend in with the crowd. The last thing I needed was to be mobbed by fans or questioned about my transfer situation. This was my time to reconnect.

We walked through the bustling streets, joking about old memories, making fun of each other like no time had passed at all.

"So, big shot, still hiding from the public, huh?" one of my friends, Pablo, teased, giving my shoulder a playful shove.

"Hey, I need a break, alright? Plus, I don't want the media following me around," I replied, grinning. "It's nice to just chill for a bit."

As we made our way past one of the parks we used to hang out in, I noticed a group of girls walking toward us. At first, I didn't think much of it—just another group of locals out for a stroll. But then, I recognized them. And in the middle of the group, leading them like she always had in school, was her—Sofia.

The memories hit me like a punch. Sofia had been one of the most popular girls back in high school, and she'd never been subtle about her interest in me. She flirted openly, often trying to get me alone, always hinting at something more. There were plenty of times she'd tried to seduce me, too. It wasn't that she wasn't attractive—Sofia was beautiful, confident, and knew how to get what she wanted. But back then, I was focused on my football career. And now, well, I had Maya.

"Diego?" Sofia's voice rang out, surprised but immediately slipping into a familiar, flirtatious tone. "Is that really you?"

I could see her eyes light up as she broke away from her friends and walked over to us. The rest of the girls followed, but none of them had the same air of confidence Sofia did. She was always the leader.