Page 97 of My Spanish Love Affair

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The next few days are a blur of activity.

The media’s attention hasn’t let up, but now, instead of feeling like I’m drowning in it, I feel a bit more anchored. The decision to take control, however small, has made a world of difference in how I see things.

It’s almost as if I’ve stepped out of the shadows and into the light.

Some stories have been drip-fed to the press, carefully curated to highlight my work and my role in the summer programme, allowing the public to see me for who I truly am -notjust as Santi’s girlfriend.

Javier has been strategic in this, picking and choosing moments to share, letting the media nibble at the surface without overwhelming me all at once. He insists that we should take our time, adopt a slower approach and let the interest build gradually so that it doesn’t feel too much too soon.

I’m happy to follow his lead, trusting that this measured pace will allow me to ease into the spotlight without getting lost in it. There’s no rush, no need to dive into the deep end all at once. It feels like a more controlled, deliberate way to reclaim my narrative, and I’m grateful for the space to find my footing.

Santi has been supportive, of course, but I instinctively know that my interview is something I have to do on my own.

He’s not going to be there when the journalists ask mequestions or when the world forms opinions about me, but in a way, I feel a lot more ready for it than before. I’ve spent too long in my own head, worried about what others think; but now, I’m feeling much more ready to show them who I am.

By the time Friday rolls around, the interview with a local reporter has been scheduled, and my nerves are tingling with both excitement and apprehension. I’ve spent the last few days reviewing what I want to say, ensuring that the focus remains on the students and the summer programme I’ve been working so hard to develop.

I want them to see me as a dedicated teacher, not just someone tied to the celebrity world of rugby.

As I sit in the small coffee shop where we’re meeting, waiting for the reporter to arrive, I try to calm my nerves by going over my notes. My phone buzzes, a message from Santi flashing up on the screen.

Good luck today, baby. I’m so proud of you.

I smile at the message. He’s always been my biggest supporter, but I know this is something I have to do for myself.

The door chimes as the reporter walks in. She’s a young woman in her late twenties, her hair pulled back in a neat bun and a camera bag slung over her shoulder.

She smiles when she sees me and walks over, extending her hand and introducing herself as Claire.

After some small talk, we settle into a quiet corner of the café, where she sets up her recorder.

“So,” Claire begins, her tone professional but warm. “I’m sure you’re aware that there’s been a lot of media interest surrounding your relationship with Santiago Ortiz. But I want to focus today on something different. I want to talk about you. Your work. Your passion for teaching.”

I feel a small wave of relief at her words, the interview taking on a direction I can get behind.

“I’m happy to talk about that,” I say, my voice more confident than I feel.

Claire smiles. “Great! I understand you’re working on a summer programme for your students, correct? Can you tell me a little more about it?”

I nod, launching into a detailed explanation of the summer tutoring initiative I’ve been planning; how it focuses on helping students improve their language skills in a more personalised, one-on-one setting. I talk about the various activities I’ve organised, from conversation practice to cultural immersion, explaining how the program will give students the opportunity to grow in a supportive, engaging environment, and also travel, if they want to.

As I speak, I realise how much I do want to share my work, how much pride I take in it.

This is what defines me. This is who I am.

Not just as someone dating a rugby player, but as an educator, as a person trying to make a difference.

Claire listens intently, asking follow-up questions, her interest seemingly genuine. The more we talk, the more I relax, feeling like the narrative is finally turning back in my favour.

She sets her pen down on the table, her eyes focused on me with the kind of interest that makes me feel seen, not just as a subject of a story, but as a person.

“So, Olivia, you’ve been in the spotlight recently, for obvious reasons. But do you ever feel that pressure? What’s it like, balancing your career with the public’s perception of your relationship?”

I shift in my chair and take a breath, careful not to rush my words.

"It’s not easy," I admit, my fingers gently tapping the side of my coffee cup. "I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect this much attention, especially not on my personal life. It’s been hard, figuring out how to deal with people’s perception of me. They don’t see the work I’m doing; they only see me next to him." I pause, gathering my thoughts, trying to keep my voice steady. "I’ve learned that people will talk, no matter what. But the key is making sure they’re talking about the right things."

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