Page 111 of My Spanish Love Affair

The lump in my throat grows, and I nod, unable to speak.

His words, his touch, the way he’s looking at me… it’s almost too much.

But instead of feeling suffocated, I feel safe. Anchored.

Loved.

He shifts closer again, his forehead resting lightly against mine as his fingers tangle with mine on the blanket.

“You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to be anything other than yourself. That’s enough for me, Liv.”

Liv.It’s the first time he’s called me that, and my heart skips a beat.

The raw honesty in his voice, the unwavering conviction behind his words, makes my tears spill over.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I admit, my voice trembling as the tears finally fall.

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he promises, his grip on my hand tightening just slightly. “One step at a time. No pressure, no rush. Just us.”

I close my eyes, letting his words wash over me. For the first time, I truly allow myself to believe that maybe - just maybe - I don’t have to have everything figured out right now.

Maybe it’s okay to just...be.

Chapter Thirty-Four

The small, local restaurant that my mother picked for lunch is charming in its simplicity, and Santi pulls out a chair for me before sitting across from my mum, who’s already scanning the menu with her reading glasses perched on her nose.

“You really didn’t have to join us, you know” my mother says with a polite smile, though I can tell from her tone and smug expression that she’s absolutely delighted by his presence. “I’m sure you have more exciting things to do than spending your afternoon with us.”

“On the contrary,” Santi replies smoothly, leaning back in his chair and flashing her that easy smile that could charm just about anyone. “There’s nothing I’d rather do. Besides, I’ve heard so many wonderful stories about you and about Manchester, too - I wanted to be able to spend some more time with you, Mrs. Bennett. So long as that’s okay with you.”

“Oh, do call me Margaret,” she says with a wave of her hand, though I catch the faint blush rising to her cheeks.

“Margaret, then,” he says warmly. “It’s a pleasure.”

Mum gives me a quick, approving look over the top of her glasses before turning her attention back to the menu. I try my best not to roll my eyes at her silliness.

The waiter comes by to take our orders. Mum chooses a heartychicken pie while Santi opts for the steak sandwich, and I stick with a classic caesar salad. I’m still not feeling the best - drinking wine late into the evening last night combined with an emotional reunion with Santi hasn’t been the best combination for my head - and I can’t really face the thought of eating much.

Once the waiter leaves, my mother turns her full attention back to Santi.

“So, Santiago -”

“Santi, please,” he interjects smoothly.

She nods. “Santi. Tell me, how did you end up playing rugby? I’ve always wondered how people get into these sorts of things at a professional level. Hobbies, certainly; but to be able to make a career out of it seems incredibly impressive. Were you just born with it?”

He chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement.

“Not quite. My dad played rugby when he was younger, and my uncle used to take me to matches when I was a kid. I fell in love with the game really early on. In Spain, football is the biggest sport; it’s so popular, and so much money is invested into it. But my passion was always more for rugby. I didn’t really think it could be a career until I was a teenager, though. That’s when I started getting serious about it.”

“And you’ve been playing ever since?”

“Pretty much, yes,” Santi confirms with an easy smile. “There have been some injuries along the way, of course, but I’ve been lucky to have a solid career so far.”

“I imagine the lifestyle has its perks, too,” Mum says with a knowing look, her tone bordering on playful. “Especially for a single young gentleman.”

Santi chuckles, glancing at me briefly before responding. “Itdoes have its moments, Margaret, but it’s not as glamorous as people think. It’s a lot of hard work, strict schedules, tough diets and countless hours of training. If I’m not in the gym, then I’m training, and if I’m not training then I’m at home, resting.”

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