Page 118 of My Spanish Love Affair

Santi.

My chest tightens, and despite the chaos on my phone, I can’t help but smile.

The sound of footsteps draws my attention, and I turn to see Santi emerging from the kitchen, two steaming cups in hand. No doubt one of them is a coffee for himself and a tea for me.

He’s dressed casually in a pair of grey sweatpants and a fitted black T-shirt, looking unfairly handsome with his mop of dark hair slightly tousled and his green eyes wide and sharp.

“Good morning, my love,” he says, his voice still rough with sleep as he sets the mugs down on one of the bedside tables.

“Morning,” I reply, my voice softer than I intended. I gesture to the roses. “These are beautiful, Santi. Thank you.”

He steps closer, his large hand raising up towards my face so that he can brush a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I smile as his fingertips ghost over my jawline in a gentle, tender caress.

“Well, what can I say? You are a beautiful woman, which means that you deserve something beautiful to wake up to every day. It’s the least I could do for you, really”

I laugh lightly, holding up my phone.

“Well, you’ve certainly given the media plenty to work with.”

His expression tightens briefly, but he shakes his head.

“Fuck them. Let them talk - it doesn’t matter. What matters isus, Liv.”

There’s such conviction in his voice that I feel my worries ease, if only a little.

He glances at the clock on the wall, his brow furrowing slightly.

“This week’s going to be crazy. Training, meetings, prep for Thursday’s match -it’s nonstop. But after that...” He pauses, his green eyes softening. “I’m all yours.”

I smile, reaching up to rest a hand on his chest. “I’ll hold you to that.”

∞∞∞

Later that morning, after Santi leaves for training, I sit alone in his apartment with my cup of tea and my thoughts.

The world outside feels distant as I stare out at the city skyline, the hum of traffic below muffled by the thick glass.

My phone buzzes again, but this time it’s not gossip or Instagram comments - it’s a reminder from my work calendar.

Exam season begins: Final exams, Week 1 of 3.

My students. My classroom.

My life before all of this.

Slowly but surely, I’ve been rebuilding that part of my life, and though the whispers in the halls haven’t completely faded, I’ve noticed the looks on my students’ faces have changed. They’re curious, yes -

But there’s also a flicker of pride in their eyes when they ask, “Is thatreallyyou in the pictures with him?”

It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

There are just three weeks left until the end of the school year,and I can already feel the weight lifting. Summer is on the horizon, bringing with it the promise of long, sunny days and a more relaxed schedule. I’ll be running the school’s summer languages programme, of course, but without the pressures of exams and strict lesson plans, it’ll feel like a breath of fresh air.

The thought fills me with quiet excitement.

As I sip my tea, my mind drifts back to everything that’s happened since the first time I met Santi at the bar. The whirlwind of emotions, the challenges, the moments of doubt… it’s all brought me here.

Here, where I can wake up to roses and laughter.

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