Status: In Progress.

Cheating Across the Pond


“Did you have a good time today?” I asked as I slid under the covers, molding myself against Stephen’s body.

“The VIP lounge with the free booze was nice,” He joked, “But I don’t know. It was kind of awkward.”

My heart stopped. “What was so awkward?” I fought to keep my voice even. Could he tell? Could he see? Did he know?

“It just felt weird I guess being known as Alyssa’s man, you know?”

I turned to face him, “What do you mean? Do you not like being known as my ‘man?’”

“No, no I do. It’s just weird for me, I guess. It felt like everything was an inside joke at my expense. Like is this how you feel at the company parties? Like they’re less interested in you as a person and more as an accessory?”

Yes. Yes. Yes. Nothing was more sinfully boring than his company Christmas party, all fake laughter and company politics.

Our first Corporate Christmas party together was a disaster. My laughing too loud, too real. Not enough phoniness to blend in with the other jaded employees. I distinctly remember Stephen distraught that his chances of getting promoted were ruined. Because of a Christmas party.

When he got home, as I lay in bed, I heard him call his boss, apologizing on my behalf for my ‘embarrassing behavior.’

Would Cristiano do that? Find me embarrassing?

I pushed the thoughts out of my head. I shouldn’t be thinking of Cristiano, in my bed, with my fiancé, “I’m sorry you felt that way. I think they just need to get to know you.”


It was strange. Almost as if I had to reacquaint myself with Stephen. And the longer I was with him, the more I compared him to Cristiano and it wasn’t right.

“It was weird meeting Stephen, you know?” Rio mused as I taped his ankle for practice, “Like we finally got a face to put to the name but like nothing really matched up right.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just imagined him different. Didn’t think you were into the whole Eastern European, sandy hair, green eyes deal.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t stalk my Facebook looking for pictures of us.”

“Huh, that would have been a good idea,” Rio shrugged. “What’s bothering you?”

I frowned as I smoothed the white tape, “Stephen told me he didn’t feel welcome.”

“Well no offense, darling, but he was pretty standoffish. He seemed more interested in his beer than talking to any of us.”

“Maybe he was star struck.”

“He doesn’t even like football! How could he be star struck?”

“I don’t know,” I threw my arms up, frustrated with Stephen, Rio and the wrinkling white tape that covered his ankle. “Sir Alex is pretty famous everywhere, right? He’s knighted for God’s sake.”

“They knight anyone these days. Last year they knighted this guy for his contributions to the cheese industry or something like that.”

I wrinkled my forehead as I ‘sealed up’ the ankle with another layer of tape, making sure it was immaculate and smooth.

“What’s wrong?” Cristiano asked as he stood in the doorway of the training room, his eyes lingering on my face, before moving to sit on the treatment table next to Rio’s.

“Stephen said he felt awkward and not welcome yesterday,” Rio said bluntly.

“Oh,” was all Cristiano said.

“You’re done,” I patted Rio’s ankle.

“Alrightey then,” Rio hopped off the table and jogged to the locker room.

“Ankle tape?” I asked.

Cristiano nodded, “That’s not all.”

“Is your thigh bothering you again?”

“No, not me. You. That’s not all that’s bothering you. There’s something else.”

I frowned, was I that easy to read? I started wrapping the pre-tape around Cristiano’s ankle. “It’s just I didn’t think it would feel so different.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like I have to reacquaint myself with him. Everything feels so different and new and not in that good, exciting way. It feels like he’s a stranger,” I began to wrap the white tape around his ankle in a methodical, automatic way that I let myself go on autopilot. “Yesterday he said it was weird being known as ‘Alyssa’s man’ or whatever. Like he’s not proud to be my fiancé.”

“I’d be more than proud to have you as my fiancé. I would want the whole world to know you were mine and that I was yours.”

“Well that’s good. Since the whole world would know. You are you, you know? You can’t sneeze without the paparazzi knowing.”

Cristiano frowned at the reminder of his fame. “He didn’t seem like that type of guy you would go for. At least not what I thought would be your type.”

“Oh yeah? What do you think my type is?”

“Someone who loves football as much as you do, someone who-”

“Football isn’t everything.”

Cristiano gave me a pointed look, “Someone who is fun and loving. Someone who makes you smile and puts you at ease. Someone who’s spontaneous and outgoing. Someone like-”

“Like you,” I finished before I could stop myself.

“Yes, like me.”
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Merry Christmas! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Please leave a comment, they really mean a lot to mean :D