Once More. | Manuel Neuer

Chapter Two.

"No, Cristiano!" Arabella shouted loudly as the little boy ran off. "For fucks sake." She growled, running after the child.
"Arabella!" Cristiano called, watching the young woman run off. Just like that he was left alone, wondering where the hell his two companions  went.

"Cristiano!"
Cristiano turned around and saw Mesut coming towards him. He smiled at him before turning back around, his eyes scanning the busy airport hall for Arabella and his son.
"Where's Arabella?"
"Somewhere in the crowd. Junior ran off and she just followed him! What if they get mugged or abducted!? What if they get murdered?" Cristiano said the last part slowly before going into full on panic mode.
Mesut snorted from behind Cristiano. "Calm down, drama queen, they'll be fine." Cristiano just huffed and kept on searching for the two.
"Anyways, why I came over: does Arabella know we're in the same hotel ?"
Cristiano froze, his eyes were wide as the realisation of this sank in. The Portugese star player had known they would share the hotel with team Germany, but in all the commotion had completely forgotten to tell Arabella about it. He cursed under his breath and whizzed around to face Mesut.
"She doesn't know," he stated.
Mesut whistled through his teeth and raised his eyebrows. "Then I think she'll be on the next plane home in about five minutes." He nodded discretely towards her as she came running back.
Cristiano quickly turned around, smiling nervously.
"Ara? Can you give Junior to Mesut for a sec? We need to speak."

Cristiano stood nervously as he tried to come up with ways to break the news. He sighed deeply and hung his head low.
"We're in the same hotel as team Germany," he mumbled under his breath.
"What was that?" Arabella asked in pure confusion.
Cristiano looked up, guilt appearant all over his face.
"We're in the same hotel as team Germany," he repeated.
He could only watch as all colour drained from Arabella's face. She shook her head, looking at him pleadingly.
"No, Cris, I can't. Please, no, no, no.."
Cristiano sighed and pulled her against him.
She burried her head in his sweatshirt.
"I can't do it, Cris," she mumbled.
"Yes, you can. The man loves you and you dropped him like a piece of trash, at least face him with the same confidence that you dropped him with."
Arabella stayed silent, hurt by his words. But no matter how badly she wanted to yell at him, and to tell him to go fuck himself, she knew he was right. She had Manuels text messages to prove it. She would just have to suck it up and face the situation head on. No more running away, no more.