[ seven ]
I spent the next few days in bed, refusing to leave my bedroom. I avoided social media and contact with the outside world. Everyone hated me anyway. Every so often my phone would vibrate with notifications. Some were text messages and calls from James. Others were tweets from people cursing me out because I left him. There were even gossip reporters surrounding my house, hoping for an exclusive interview with 'the bitch who broke James' heart' as his female twitter followers started to call me.
They didn't know what was really going on. They didn't know my reasons. They didn't know, or probably wouldn't care, that I was suffering too. I was afraid of marrying James. I was afraid of leaving Colombia, the only home I knew. I was afraid of leaving my parents behind. Sure I could always travel to visit them, but it wasn't the same. I was afraid that James could get bored and leave me. And I became immersed in all my fears. I should have talked with him about it, but I kept it all to myself and let fear take over.
For days after our break up I self-tortured myself by reading through his depressing tweets, scrolling past pictures of him at Real Madrid training sessions where he looked terrible. He was often photographed by himself, staying out of his team mates' way.
People saw the state he was in and wondered if putting him under contract with the team was worth it. He was a shell of his former self. The optimistic smile that once was a permanent feature on his face was now gone, replaced by quivering lips and tear soaked eyes. His appearance was entirely disheveled.
It hurt to see him so upset and I was ashamed because I was the one who caused all of this.
James and I were happy. He wanted to marry me; marrying him was all I ever wanted. But I let my fears get in the way. And I felt like a horrible person for doing so.
A couple of weeks passed before my break up with James was old news. The media left me and my house alone when it was evident I wasn't going to speak about the whole situation. There were rumors going around, different theories as to why we broke up.
Some said I left him for someone else, others claimed he discovered I was supposedly only using him for his money, and other dumb stories.
James continued calling me everyday. He often sent me messaged, asking me to reply. If he wasn't going to have my love, he claimed he still wanted to be friends. The shame was too great to allow me to answer those messages. He tried this for over two months. By that time, his messages came in small trickles, ranging from one to five days between each message. And one day in December, he stopped texting me altogether. That was the day I saw photos of him, taken by a Madrid newspaper, where he was strolling through the city hand in hand with a beautiful woman.
I returned to school to finish my degree in Spanish literature and journalism.
I had one semester left when I recieved an internship opportunity that would change my life dramatically.
"I have a friend in Madrid." My professor explained to me. "And he has an internship opportunity for a sports reporter on a new show called Deporte Caliente. I told him I know someone who would be perfect for the job. You should go for it, Arista. And I won't take no for an answer. It pays very well and you'll get to meet all kinds of interesting people."
And so, two years later at the age of twenty one, I found myself back in the same country as James. The country where we broke our relationship off two years prior.
.
.
.
.
The trip to Madrid was longer than I remembered it. But I spent it all thinking about James. Madrid was one of the most populous cities in Spain. What were the odds that I would run into him during my six month stay there? The chances were unlikely, made only slightly likely because I would be reporting sports news. But that didn't mean it would be anything that had to do with Real Madrid.
The moment I stepped off the plane and walked past busy people at the airport, alll I could see were Real Madrid commercials on some of the televisions, Real Madrid posters on some of the walls, and most newspapers had pictures of them on the cover.
James seemed like the most recurring one in the headlines, and it wasn't for the most positive things.
'James Rodriguez spotted outside night club with girlfriend Giselle Vilanova.'
'James Rodriguez: Madrid's new badboy.'
'Rodriguez accumulates more red cars than even Ramos and Pepe!'
'Rodriguez sent off for punching a member of the opposing team.'
'Rodriguez suspended for accumulation of yellow cards.'
'Giselle Vilanova speaks about her dream boyfriend: James Rodriguez.'
'Tensions between Real Madrid members escalate. Why Madrid footballers want James out.'
'James Rodriguez is engaged! (Read this exclusive interview with the lucky lady).'
'Giselle and James: the wedding plans.'
Over the last two years, he had become an entirely different person than the one I once knew. At first he was reclusive and miserable, performing poorly at football games. He reached such a low point in his life that the team considered letting him go. They had invested so much money into James and he was spending all his time unhappy. Because he was doing so poorly, he was given one last chance to prove he belonged with the team. Then he met his current girlfriend and became mean and sarcastic. He was full of himself, believing himself to be the best football player in the world. He stopped being the humble boy from Envigado who loved football and wanted to make his country proud of him.
He often argued with his team mates and bad mouthed oponents during press conferences. In several instances he got into trouble for misconduct. He did things like knocking an oponent down onto the ground, kicking them. I even remembered reading in a newspaper once that he was sent off for throwing the football at a member of the opposing team when he was given a yellow for fouling that player.
The one thing that was a constant in his life was his girlfriend Giselle, who he partied with every single night. None of his Madrid team mates liked him anymore, all of them wanted him gone.
He had become a monster and it was my fault.
-
this chapter is pretty short cause i might update again tomorrow.
thank you all so much for reading.
i skipped two years in time and summarized it in the first part of the chapter cause writing it out would have been boring.
basically arista went to the university, james continued in madrid.
she got an internship with a sports show in spain. and by now james has a new girlfriend who he is soon going to marry. and she actually told him yes.
anyway, i hope you like theupdate.
i love you.
-clary xx
