***POV ISABELA***
“Are we going to be able to take pictures with the players?” My daughter asked excitedly.
I knew I could give my daughter this privilege; it was just a matter of asking Noah. But I wouldn’t do that.
In the moment of excitement, she wouldn’t realize it, but later she would bombard me with questions about how I managed to pull it off.
“No,” I said, sitting down on the bleachers. “Are you excited?” I asked, observing her animation.
“VERY MUCH!” She screamed euphorically, I'm in love with this team. Thank you, Mom!”
“Anything for you, my little angel.”
My daughter smiled and started singing along with the crowd.
We were both wearing team clothes; Noah practically forced me to wear a T-shirt with his name on it. My daughter was wearing a T-shirt just like mine, also with his name on it, since she's a fan of his.
"Man, that Noah is so handsome," I heard a woman behind me comment to her friend as the team started to take the field.
I turned my head to look at the woman; she was young and very pretty, I must admit. I pressed my lips together, annoyed.
"And then you say you're not in love," my friend whispered in my ear, just for me to hear.
"I'm not."
"So why are you jealous?" He asked.
I looked at Noah, who was scanning the stands. I'm sure he was looking for me. At the same moment, he found me and smiled. I smiled back discreetly.
"MY GOD, HE SMILED AT ME!" The woman behind me exclaimed excitedly. My hands were already clenched in anger at this woman.
"I'm not a jealous person," I muttered. I've never been the jealous type; I never fought with my ex-husband about it. I gave her so much freedom that I ended up being betrayed.
"I'll tell you at midnight," he joked, taking a sip of his beer.
The players took up their positions to start the match, and the stadium was filled with shouts and applause from the fans when the referee blew the whistle to start the game.
"He plays well," commented Alex.
"Stop that," I ordered.
"What?" He looked at me, puzzled.
"If you keep talking about Noah, Isis might hear," I whispered in his ear.
"My mistake," he apologized, and I just nodded, sipping my drink through a straw.
"GOAL," everyone shouted and jumped up and down with excitement.
I hugged my daughter, thrilled by our team's goal, scored by Noah.
He looked at me and sent me a heart, dedicating the goal to me.
All the women around us melted and wondered who it was for.
I was already dizzy.
The referee blew the whistle again, and for the last time that day. The game was over. We won 3-1.
I watched Noah take off his shirt and hand it to a player from the opposing team. They shook hands and exchanged shirts.
“He’s looking at us,” my daughter said excitedly. “Do you think he remembers us?” She asked.
“Of course he does,” Alex said, laughing, which made me pinch him. “Ouch,” he said, rubbing the spot where I pinched him.
“Is he calling us?” Isis asked, making me look at Noah, who was beckoning us.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said, pressing my lips together.
Why was he calling us?
“Stop it, Mom. It’s a great idea. Everyone here would die to be near him.”
My daughter stood up and started to descend the bleachers, approaching the field. I got up with Alex and followed her down.
Noah was talking to my daughter, who was smiling like a fool.
“Hi,” I said as I approached. He was shirtless and sweaty, which made my thoughts wander.
“Hi,” he replied, placing his hands on his hips. So handsome! “Isis said she wanted to take pictures with the players. Is that okay with you?" He asked me. My daughter turned to look at me, pleading with her eyes.
"Yes" was all I could say, making them both smile.
“Come on, come over to this side,” he requested.
He held my daughter's hand, helping her jump over the advertising board, and did the same for me, extending his hand.
We walked across the field to a group of players. Noah asked us to wait while he talked to them. They nodded, and he signaled for my daughter to approach. She started taking pictures with all the players, who were very kind and accommodating.
“Did you enjoy the game?” He asked, stopping next to me and also watching my daughter excitedly take pictures.
“Yes.”
“I want you to come more often. You bring me luck.”
I turned to look at him and suppressed a smile.
Why does he have to be so handsome???
“You need to stop this,” I asked.
“Stop what?” He asked, not understanding.
“You're not hiding what's between us. You invited me to the game, scored a goal, and dedicated it to me, and now you're calling us onto the field...” I sighed, looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to us, then looked back at him. “People will start to suspect soon.”
“You know I wouldn't hide anything if it were up to me,” he sighed, adjusting his shorts, and I couldn't help but follow his movements with my eyes. “I know that look.” He tried to stifle a laugh, unsuccessfully, as I saw his little smirk.
“You could stop being so handsome,” I said, instantly regretting it. What am I saying? I'm terrible at flirting!
“Don't say things like that when I can't kiss you here,” he asked through gritted teeth.
“Sorry.”
“Make it up to me later, gorgeous.”
He spoke casually, but it sent a shiver through my body.
“Same place?” I asked.
“Can I pick you up at your house?” He countered.
“I don't think that's a good idea. My neighbors are gossips.”
“Fine, same place then. I need to talk to you.”
“About what?” I asked, curious.
Noah didn't have time to reply because my daughter was approaching Alex.
"Thanks, Noah. I loved meeting the other players. I'm a big fan!" My daughter said this enthusiastically, her eyes shining.
"Whenever you want free tickets, just let me know," he winked at her, who was delighted.
She doesn't know, of course, but I didn't pay for those tickets either. Noah gave me all three.
"Thanks!" She smiled, and he smiled back.
"Let's go," I said. "Thanks for everything." I thanked him, looking into his eyes as he looked back at me. Our eyes spoke more than words, and I loved that about our relationship.
Wait, are we in a relationship?
I don't know...
But I like everything about this "thing" we have, especially how our eyes communicate.
"Bye." He waved goodbye, watching us leave, and winked at me, making the butterflies in my stomach come alive.
"Mom, I think I've found a boyfriend," said my daughter, catching my eye.
"You're too young for this."
"What do you think of Noah? He's handsome. Perfect. The son-in-law you asked God for, right?"
I choked on my saliva and started coughing madly. Alex came rushing to my side, patting me on the back to help me recover.
"Breathe, Isa. Breathe," he said calmly when my coughing subsided.
"I didn't ask God for a son-in-law," I thought it was important to clarify. I looked seriously at my daughter. I don't know why, but it bothered me that she fantasized about Noah when he slept with me every night."Noah is much older than you and you shouldn't be thinking about these things now. You're still a child.
“I’m 15,” she said, stomping her foot and crossing her arms as we reached my car. “Am I not pretty enough?”
“You are beautiful, my daughter. But you’re too young to think about these things,” I sighed, tired of the subject. “Focus on your studies, that’s all,” I asked, unlocking the car alarm so we could get in.
I got into the driver’s seat. Alex sat beside me in the passenger seat, and Isis sat in the back, still huffing and grumbling.
I rested my head on the steering wheel to try to clear my thoughts and focus on driving.
Alex put his hand on my shoulder, giving me a bit of the reassurance I needed.
“Are you spending the rest of the day with me, sweetie?” I asked.
“I’m spending it with my dad,” she replied curtly.
Great, back to square one. Where she ignores me, treats me with indifference, and doesn’t want to look at me!
I never imagined raising a teenager would be so difficult. It’s one of the hardest challenges I’ve ever faced.
Honestly...