Page 98 of My Spanish Love Affair

Claire leans forward slightly, her pen hovering over her notebook. Her eyes are focused on me, but there’s a certain sharpness to her gaze, as if she’s searching for something deeper.

“I understand. But the media doesn’t always paint a clear picture, does it? They see the glamorous side of things, the fancy dinners and the spotlight, but they don’t see the struggle. They don’t see you: Olivia Bennett, the woman trying to balance it all. So, what’s it like? Is there ever a moment when you question your place in this world?”

The question hangs in the air, and I swallow, feeling the weight of it. My heart beats faster, but I know I have to answer.

This is the kind of question I’ve been avoiding in my head for weeks.

I hesitate, glancing down at my coffee cup.

“I do question it, sometimes. I’m not used to this kind of attention, and there are moments when I feel like... like I don’t belong in his world, you know?” I let out a slow breath. “It’s hard to reconcile the woman I’ve worked so hard to be with the one people think I am because of who I’m dating.”

Claire nods, her expression sympathetic. “And how do you dealwith that?”

I look up at her, surprised by how personal the conversation has gotten.

This doesn’t feel like just an interview anymore. This feels real.

Raw.

"I focus on what I know. I focus on the work that I’m passionate about. The kids I teach. The programme I’m creating. The things that matter most to me. And honestly, some days, that’s all I can hold on to."

Claire’s pen scratches across the paper as she smiles warmly at me.

"You should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished. People want to see the real you, not just the woman in the headlines, and from what I’m hearing today, you’ve got a lot to be proud of."

I sit back in my chair, feeling the weight of her words settle in. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m not just part of Santi’s story.

I’m finally writing my own.

But just as I’m starting to feel comfortable, her next question cuts through the moment.

“And do you ever feel like, maybe you’re trying to prove something? I mean, you've not been in the public eye for long - it has to be overwhelming. So do you ever feel like you’re pushing yourself so hard on purpose, so that you’re seen as more than just Santiago’s girlfriend? And is that what’s becoming exhausting?”

I blink at her, startled by the directness of the question.

“I—” I pause, unsure how to answer. “I don’t think it’s about proving something. It’s just that... for so long, I’ve felt like I’vebeen defined by him, byhisworld. And I’ve never wanted that. I never thought I’d be in a situation like this, with anyone caring about my life - but if they do, then I want to be my own person. To be known for what I do, not who I’m with.”

Claire watches me carefully, her gaze assessing, but not judgmental.

"I suppose many would say that it’s a fine line. Finding that balance between maintaining your identity and supporting someone you care about. But from everything you’ve said, I think you’re doing that. You’re here, telling your story. And that’s powerful."

I take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the conversation settling over me.

“Maybe I’m starting to believe that. Maybe I’m starting to find my voice again.”

As the interview wraps up, I feel strangely calm. More confident, even. Claire thanks me profusely, and I thank her back, feeling the weight of the conversation settle inside me.

This is a new chapter for me, one where I’m not just a side note in someone else’s life.

This is my story. And I’m finally telling it.

Chapter Thirty

It’s almost three weeks before the article is released, and during that time, I focus on keeping my head down.

The media’s attention hasn’t let up -though there’s no real surprise there -but I’ve managed to push it aside, burying myself in my work and the students I care so much about. The summer programme is taking shape, and I’m proud of the progress I’m making along with the additional after-school sessions I’ve been putting on in preparation for the end-of-year exams. There’s only a few more weeks left of this academic year, and I’m determined to make the most of my time teaching.

But no matter how many positive things I try to focus on, there’s always this underlying current of tension running through me.

---