DUMPED BY MY EX, CHOSEN BY THE BILLIONAIRE SOCCER STAR

Daniela's POV

I looked at the clock. The red numbers blinked, 6:00. Why does it always feel like night hangs on this long? The house pressed in with silence, except for Raphael's slow breaths beside me. Lately, he's been shrinking, since missing the contract for the football player, and that warning from his boss. I can't help wondering if there's anything I could do to lift him, but the shadows seem to settle deeper around him, out of my reach.

I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. The weight in the room appeared dense, almost physical. Why is it always harder to breathe when things go wrong for him? As I dressed for my morning run, I wondered if moving my body fast enough could shake off this worry that seems glued to my skin. Floorboards rattled underfoot.

As I walked downstairs yesterday, the scent of coffee lingered, mingling with the morning chill. Elena, Raphael's mother, was already up, standing in the kitchen doorway, watching me.

Elena surveyed me up and down, lips pursed into a nearly vanishing line. She asked quietly, "Why do you run so early?" Her eyes paused for a second too long on my shoes. Her fingers clenched rhythmically around her mug. "You have a nice form, Daniela, but it's better to tend to your husband. He needs you more than ever. Be more supportive,"

She said it all in a soft, careful voice, but her look was sharp. My chest tightened under her judgment; every word held a threat she wouldn't voice aloud. Is there anything I do that pleases her, or is she always searching for my failure?

Maybe if you didn't baby him so much, I wouldn't have wanted to snap. But my grandma's voice resounded: " Be polite to elders. Why is that so impossible with Elena? What does she see in me that isn't enough? I do everything for her son and get nothing in return. What am I missing?

I put my AirPods in and turned on the music. The world compressed to just the pace of my feet and the sound in my ears as I ran outside. When I returned and entered the apartment again, Raphael was already in the shower, water flowing audibly through the bathroom door. I quietly undressed, entered the bathroom, and walked into the steam to join him.

Daniela, I'm in a hurry; I will see you at the office. Great. Why does being dismissed so easily still sting so deeply? I suppressed the urge to cry. He acts indifferent, but it aches that he hasn't touched me in so long. I hate how small I feel right now.

The Oronzo Agency is Madrid's most famous. Its glass tower in Azca gleams with trophies and jerseys. Everyone here lives for competition. Whenever I step onto the twelfth floor, I feel it as a static charge: ambition, hunger, fear. Am I the only one who sees how this constant chase wears Raphael down? I warned him: You have to want it enough; this place devours the indecisive. Now, he's falling behind, and I can't fix that.

"Daniela, my coffee, por favor, and come to the meeting with me," Mr. Moreno called. I ran to get his coffee and caught the end of a conversation. They wanted a famous football player to sign, but no one could reach him. He likes going to a club with friends. I knew the place, my friend Lara bartended there. I had to tell Raphael; this was his chance.

I sat in the chair to Mr. Moreno's right, in the conference room, to take notes. He valued my opinion; in private, he would never admit it to anyone else.

"Bueno, let's see the commercials," he said, opening the first file. They played it, and I laughed. "Mierda."

I didn't mean to; it just came out because the commercial was stupid and badly made. Everyone turned to me. Mr. Moreno slapped his hand on the table. "You're redoing it. Next," he shouted.

As I walked out of the meeting room, I noticed angry looks from the other agents directed at me. Still, I reminded myself I wasn't here to make friends. This job was temporary; I was in my third year of school, studying physical therapy. I planned to take three more years for a doctorate. To cover bills, I'd also picked up a weekend job. People often asked why I was in physical therapy and encouraged me to stay in the agency, saying I was smart and ambitious, but my path was clear to me.

"Thank you, sir. Honestly, I thought you would fire me," I told Mr. Moreno. We laughed. It was horrible...

Yes, it was. I always look forward to your reaction; that's how much I trust you with all this. Now, say the word, and I will fire them and hire you...

"Mr. Moreno, as much as I love working for you, I don't see my path going there, and I'm grateful for you and this job for now," I replied.

You deserve better, Daniela, okay, now tell me what you think of the others?

After an hour discussing commercials and suggesting ideas in the meeting, I walked back to my desk. I made myself a coffee, then left my department and walked over to Raphael's to see him.

"Daniela, what do you want?" Raphael asked.

I leaned closer and whispered, "I have some information. Let's have lunch together, I can tell you then. This is big."

"Fine, I will see you downstairs later. Now go," he dismissed me. I understood he was stressed and taking it out on me.

I called my friend Lara right before one because she slept in.

"Yes, I called to ask for a favor," I said when she picked up.

"Daniela, you have to buy me lunch first, por favor," Lara joked.

"Bad girl," I teased. "Listen, Manuel Karro, I need to get to him. He is..."

"I know who he is, Daniela, and he doesn't do well with being ambushed. I will try to get you inside the VIP; from there, it's on you," Lara replied.

"That will be perfect. Thank you, Lara. I owe you big."

"Yeah, you do, but you're my bestie, and I will do anything for you. Muah, love you," Lara said.

After I hung up, I went downstairs and looked in the café for Raphael. He was talking to a woman, laughing. She saw me, her smile vanished, and she took her coffee and left. "Now tell me what is so important," Raphael said.

I told him about the conversation. "And I asked Lara to call us when he comes to the club. Are you ready to sign him?" I asked.

"What do you mean? Of course," Raphael replied.

"Raphael, learn everything about him. Start today, everything, what he likes to drink, eat..." I urged.

"Are you teaching me how to do this, Daniela?" he asked, his voice angry as he grabbed my wrist. Then, seeming to realize his mistake, he let go. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

For a moment, I just stood by the table, feeling where his fingers gripped my wrist, a rush of heat to my cheeks, and my heart thundering in my chest. Did I really go too far, or am I just exhausted from holding us both together? I searched for a reply that would snap him awake or show him how hurt I was, but nothing came out. Maybe it's not about being strong anymore, maybe I'm too tired. I forced myself not to cry here; not now, not for him to see.

I cried in the bathroom, then washed my face and went back to work.