One Week

“Are we going to sit here all day?” Sarah asked carefully, glancing across the posh interior of the sleek black Mercedes. They’d been stationary in the parking lot for at least fifteen minutes and her friend hadn’t made any indication that she was going to move during the entire time.

“No, of course not,” Emma replied with faked cheeriness. All she really wanted to do was to get the hell away from the arena behind them and crawl back under the covers of her bed.

It was only that she didn’t have a bed in any sort of close vicinity considering that they were in south west London at the moment…

“I get that this is hard for you, but…” Sarah began.

“It’s beyond hard for me,” Emma interrupted Thomas’ fiancé, finally letting go of the steering wheel as she looked back across the car. “And I'm sorry, but you can’t understand how hard this is,” she said honestly. “You're not the one who’s going to go out there and keep a brave face on cause your husband is currently one of the most hated men in the league right now.”

“No, but I am going to be sitting with WAG’s of the Blues when my man is playing for the Reds,” Sarah pointed out simply, happy that she at least got a slight tug of the corners of her friend’s mouth.

“There is that,” Emma had to give her that. She’d ended up bribing Sarah when Fernando had requested that she and Elias come down to London for his debut with Chelsea…against Liverpool. That was going to be a whole new kind of weird for her that was for sure…

“Nando needs you,” Sarah pointed out the obvious, knowing that she was playing dirty as she did.

“I hate you,” Emma sighed, grabbing her keys from the ignition as well as her seemingly mandatory oversized designer bag from the floor next to Sarah’s feet.

The two of them climbing out of the car, Emma knew that walking through those doors, just a couple of feet behind them, was going to a whole new experience for her. She’d thought that Alex was intimidating the first time she met her; it most likely wasn't going to be anything against walking out between the Chelsea WAGs. They were women just like her, but at the same time…they weren’t…

Locking the expensive vehicle behind them, she consciously ignored the looks from the fans heading towards the arena that noticed them. She wasn't a vain person, not at all, and she hated blowing her own horn, but it would be a lie to claim that she wasn't in the papers, that bloggers didn’t find it unbelievably interesting to write about her latest purchases or how she hadn't been like many of the other WAG’s and lost all her baby weight right after Elias was born some six months earlier. Anyhow, it was obvious that they recognized her, or at least thought they did.

All but ushering Sarah in through the metal door before her, she let the heavy door close behind them as they continued through the arena. She’d never before been there, but somewhat surprisingly it wasn't all that hard locating where you were going, the directions were perfect and present at every turn. Walking through the large arena in silence, she had to stop herself from shaking her head as they slowly made their way towards the home stands.

Never in a million years would she have thought that she would ever call the family boxes at The Bridge ‘their home’.

Making sure that her hair wasn't standing on end, that she had nothing stuck to the underside of her high heeled pumps and that her shirt wasn't tucked in anywhere, she took a deep breath before giving Sarah a slight nod and crossing the last few steps out in the stands. You only have one chance of making a first impression and if Fernando got his latest wish, they would be staying in London for close to five years, or more; it would be a couple of very uncomfortable years if she didn’t at least somewhat click with the other women in that room, that was for sure.

It was kind of like when you had your first day of school, you hate it cause you know that whatever you do it’s going to be what they base their entire future opinion of you on. And you’re never going to be able to fully erase that opinion no matter how much you try…




Sitting next to Sarah, her legs crossed as she leaned back in her seat and suppressed the urge to bounce her foot up and down nervously, Emma watched the players greet each other down on the pitch and she had to breathe a sigh of relief as she saw most of the Reds smiling slightly and shaking Fernando’s hand like they actually still liked him when he passed them, unlike the fans that had traveled down...

Thomas was standing in the midst of them, looking ever the proud Red and she just couldn’t keep from feeling unbelievably proud where she was sitting in the stands, surrounded by women she didn’t know, all who were there to support the blues when half of her much rather wanted to wear the red threads…

Her cousin getting the opportunity to play for a – former – top team in the Premier League was such a big deal that she still wasn't sure she quite got how big of a deal it really was. But she knew that she was extremely proud of him and for the first time ever she was now faced with the very real prospect that she would have to cheer against him, and the team she had in her heart…

She honestly wasn't quite sure how that was going to go over.




Leaning forwards slightly, her arms resting on her knee, Emma closed her eyes for a moment as she caught sight of the number being pulled off the pitch. The big red number nine for Chelsea almost seemed mocking as the fourth lineman held up the sign above his head, announcing the switch in the 60something minute of the game.

There was one thing being substituted after a bad performance cause your team needed an extra boost and a whole different thing when it’s your debut game in your new club and especially when it’s in a game against your old club…

She didn’t even have to see Fernando’s face to know that he was about crushed in that very moment, being pulled off in his debut match with the Blues, knowing just how much pressure and how many eyes were on him in that moment. Just how many people who were just looking for him to fail so that they could gloat…

The club had paid so much money for him that the fans were demanding immediate success and even if the coach and everyone in the club was telling them that they would take the time needed for him to feel comfortable and start scoring those goals, it was still like a dark cloud hanging above their heads.