Invisible string

Chapter 2- First meeting

Lyon, 22 of March, 2018:

The morning sun cast a soft, golden glow over the city of Lyon as I woke, anticipation thrumming through my veins like a heartbeat. Today was the day - the day we faced off against Barcelona in the UEFA Women's Champions Leauge quarterfinals. It was a match that held immense significance for me, not just because of its importance in the tournament, but because it marked the first time I would come face to face with Alexia Putellas, the Barcelona captain, the woman who would eventually weave her way into the very fabric of my life.

As I slipped into my outfit, the familiar weight of the Lyon jacket, grounding me, I couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves. Would she be there? Would our paths cross on the pitch, setting into motion the invisible string that would bind us together?

I made my way to the breakfast table, where my teammates were already gathered, their chatter filling the room with warmth. Delphine Cascarino, my closest friend on the team, flashed me a grin as I approached, her eyes dancing with excitement.

"Big day ahead, Matilda," she said, pouring me a cup of coffee. "Are you ready?."

I nodded, the nervous energy crackling beneath my skin. "As ready as I'll ever be."

We boarded the bus to the stadium, the air thick with anticipation and tension. I took a seat beside Delphine, our shoulders brushing as we exchanged nervous glances. She reached out and squeezed my hand, a silent gesture of solidarity that spoke volumes.

The journey to the Groupama Stadium was a blur of nerves and excitement, the hum of the engine lulling me into a state of quiet reflection. I thought about everything that had led me to this moment - the years of hard work an dedication, the countless hours spent on the training pitch, the sacrifices made along the way. And now, here I was, on the cusp of something extraordinary.

As we stepped off the bus and onto the pitch, the roar of the crowd washed over me like a tidal wave, sending shivers down my spine. This was it - game time.

The whistle blew, and the match began in earnest, the intensity palpable in the air. Barcelona came out strong, pressing forward with relentless determination, but we held our ground, our defense a solid wall of resistance.

I glanced across the pitch, searching for her - Alexia. And there she was, standing on the sidelines, her eyes locked on the game with a fierce intensity. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of her, the invisible string between us tugging at my soul.

The first half passed in a blur of action and adrenaline, neither side able to break the deadlock. But then, just before halftime, the moment we had been waiting for arrived.

I received the ball at the edge of the box, my heart pounding in my chest as I lined up to shoot. With a swift motion, I unleashed a rocket of a shot, the ball sailing past the arms of Sandra Panos, the Barcelona goalkeeper, and into the back of the net.

The crowd erupted into cheers, the sound deafening as my teammates swarmed around me, their jubilant shouts echoing in my ears.

The second half brought more drama and tension as Barcelona fought back with everything they had. In the 72nd minute, Patri Guijarro found the back of the net with a stunning strike, leveling the score and sending shockwaves through the stadium.

But we refused to be beaten. With time running out, we dug deep, summoning every ounce of strength and determination we possessed. And then, in the 79th minute, our moment of glory arrived.

As I leaped the ball over the defence of Barcelona, Ada received the ball and her shot finding the back of the net with perfect precision. The stadium erupted into cheers once more, the sound echoing of the walls as we celebrated our hard-fought victory.

As the final whistle blew, signaling the end of the match, I felt a sense of elation wash over me. We had done it - we had emerged victorious, our dream of Champions Leauge glory still alive and burning bright.

But amidst the celebrations, my mind kept drifting back to her - Alexia. I knew that our journey was far from over, that this was only the beginning of a story that would span years, continents and lifetimes. And as I glanced across the pitch one final time, our eyes met, the invisible string between us pulling tighter with each passing moment.

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Matildaverstappen: Great game. Two goals and a lead heading in to quarterfinal next week in Barcelona.

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