Back in Madrid, Adriano continued his recovery with a mixture of impatience and determination. His rehabilitation sessions were rigorous, designed to get him back to full strength as quickly as possible. Each day, he pushed himself a little harder, not only to mend his ankle but also to prepare mentally for the battles awaiting him on the field.
In one particularly introspective moment, Adriano picked up a framed photo of his younger self—an image from his early days in football, when the future was a bright canvas of endless possibilities. "I promised myself," he whispered into the silence, "that I would never let setbacks define me." The echo of his own voice was both a reminder and a pledge—a promise that he would not allow this injury to mark the end of his journey, but rather the beginning of a new chapter of resilience and evolution.
Blanca, ever supportive despite her own mounting challenges, made time for him as much as she could. In the quiet hours of the night, when the pressures of the media and the weight of public scrutiny grew unbearable, she would sit by his side and read him messages from fans, letters of encouragement, and even some scathing critiques that she managed to sift through with a careful, balanced perspective. "They're just words, Adri," she often said softly, her fingers gently brushing his arm. "Our life isn't written by headlines—it's written by the determination and passion we pour into everything we do."
As the days merged into week, both the club and Adriano began to find their footing in the new reality. In the dressing room, the echoes of Pellegrini's words continued to resonate. Every time a player struggled during a drill, someone would step in with encouragement. Every time a passing sequence broke down, another teammate would remind them of the trust they had built together. It was as if the absence of their star had ignited a collective fire—a determination to prove that their spirit was unbreakable.
On the eve of their next match, the air in the training grounds was electric. The squad gathered for one final tactical briefing, the mood one of both solemnity and anticipation. Pellegrini's voice was measured but resolute as he addressed the team one last time before they stepped onto the field.
"Tomorrow is more than just a match—it's a statement. We may be missing Adriano, but we are not diminished by his absence. We are a team, a family, and every single one of you has the power to change the course of this game. Play with passion, play with unity, and let's show everyone why we deserve to be champions."
As the players filed out, each one carried with them not only the tactical instructions but the promise of a renewed identity—one built on resilience, teamwork, and a shared determination to rise above adversity.
And far away in Madrid, Adriano watched these developments with a mix of pride and longing. Though he was confined to recovery, his heart soared at the thought of his teammates fighting on and the legacy they were all building together.
In the quiet moments before sleep, as he scrolled through updates and training videos shared by his coach, he allowed himself a rare moment of hope. "I'll be back soon," he promised himself, "and when I do, I won't be the one carrying all the weight. We'll be unstoppable—together."
Meanwhile, there was trouble in paradise.
Blanca had always been a professional. Her career had been carefully cultivated over the years, a combination of talent, hard work, and a relentless pursuit of excellence. She had worked tirelessly to establish herself in the fiercely competitive world of fashion and entertainment. Opportunities had opened up for her, one after the other, each a stepping stone to the next level of success. But in the weeks since she started dating Adriano, and especially after his injury, things had begun to shift in ways she hadn't anticipated.
It started subtly, almost imperceptibly. At first, it was just a few whispers behind closed doors—small murmurs from industry insiders who had once been so eager to book her for their campaigns, now expressing concern over her recent unavailability. She had been understanding, of course, when she had to cancel a few minor engagements to stay by Adriano's side, but as the weeks went on, her absences became more frequent, and the understanding began to wear thin.
Blanca sat on the couch in her apartment one evening, phone in hand, scrolling through social media absentmindedly. Adriano was beside her, lying down with his injured foot still propped up on pillows. He had been restless all day, but now he had finally dozed off, his breathing shallow but steady. Blanca's gaze flicked from her phone to him. She had been managing to juggle both—keeping an eye on Adriano while trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy with her work.
Her phone buzzed, and she looked down at the screen. The name on the caller ID made her stomach tighten. It was Clara Ramos, her agent. She hesitated for a moment, knowing this wasn't going to be a casual conversation.
"Clara," she said as she answered the call, her voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb Adriano's rest.
"Blanca," Clara's voice came through sharply. "We need to talk. You need to come to the office. Now."
Blanca's pulse quickened. The tone in Clara's voice was one she recognized—a tone that signaled something was wrong, something urgent. "What's going on?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
"There's no time for explanations over the phone," Clara replied, her voice tight with frustration. "Just come to the office, and we'll discuss it there."
Blanca glanced over at Adriano. He was still asleep, his foot carefully elevated. She had been so focused on him these past weeks that the growing tension between her career and her relationship had been pushing her into a corner she wasn't ready to face.
"I'll be there," she said, her voice resigned.
When the call ended, Blanca sat back, feeling the weight of the conversation settle on her shoulders. She didn't want to go to the office. She didn't want to face the growing doubts that had been swirling in her life—doubts about her career, her relationship, and the pressure of being scrutinized in a world that seemed to thrive on judgment. But she knew she had no choice.
The office was quieter than usual when Blanca arrived, and Clara was already waiting for her in one of the private rooms at the back. The moment Blanca stepped inside, Clara looked up, her expression a mix of frustration and concern.
"Close the door," Clara instructed, her voice sharp.
Blanca obeyed, walking into the room and taking a seat across from Clara. "What's going on?" she asked again, her nerves starting to unravel.
Clara folded her arms, leaning back in her chair. "You know exactly what's going on, Blanca," she said, her tone no longer as measured as it had been in the past. "You've canceled four major campaigns in the last three weeks. Four. That's not just a little break from work. It's a pattern, and it's starting to get noticed."
Blanca felt a pang of guilt, but she quickly suppressed it. She had always known that her career demanded a delicate balance. She had worked hard to get where she was, and now, with everything hanging in the balance, she didn't know where to begin.
"I know," she said quietly. "But... I couldn't leave Adriano. Not when he needs me."
Clara's eyes softened, but only slightly. "I understand that. I really do. But let's be real for a second. We're talking about Louis Vuitton here, Blanca. A brand that has been a dream of yours for years. And you turned them down. Do you understand how rare it is to get a second chance with them? You've worked too hard to just throw it all away."
Blanca pressed her lips together. She knew Clara was right. Louis Vuitton had been one of the brands she had dreamed of working with from the start. It was a massive opportunity—one that she had turned down without hesitation, choosing to be there for Adriano instead. But now, she was starting to question whether that decision was the right one.
"I just..." Blanca struggled to find the words. "I couldn't leave him alone. He's... he's going through so much right now."
Clara's voice grew more firm. "And I get that, Blanca. I really do. But you're not just risking your career here. You're risking your future. The industry is noticing. And when they notice, they move on to the next person. It's ruthless out there. If they think you're unreliable, they won't hesitate to replace you."
Blanca bit her lip. The words stung, but they weren't untrue. She had seen the way the industry operated. It had always been this way, but hearing it from Clara felt like a harsh reminder.
"So, what do you want me to do?" Blanca asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Clara sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I want you to show the industry that you're still serious about your career. You need to take a job, any job. Book a shoot, anything that will show people that you're still the Blanca Suarez they know. You can't just disappear and expect things to go back to normal. Your career can't wait."
Blanca felt the weight of Clara's words settle in her chest. She had spent years building her reputation, only for it to feel like it was slipping through her fingers now. She didn't want to be the person who abandoned Adriano, but at the same time, she didn't want to lose herself in the process.
"I'll think about it," she said, her voice heavy with the decision she knew she had to make.
Clara nodded, her expression softening for the first time. "You're not a failure for putting your career first, Blanca. But you have to find a way to balance it. If you don't, you risk losing everything."
Blanca didn't respond right away. She sat there in silence, the tension in the room palpable. The decision was not just about a job or a relationship. It was about who she wanted to be—both professionally and personally.
As the meeting came to an end, Blanca left the office with her mind heavy, her thoughts tangled. She had never imagined a scenario like this, where she would have to choose between the man she loved and the career she had built from the ground up.
When she returned home, Adriano was still resting on the couch. He looked peaceful, unaware of the storm that had been brewing in her mind. Blanca stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him. She loved him, and she knew he needed her, but at what cost? She couldn't ignore the reality of her career slipping away, nor could she abandon him in his time of need.
Taking a deep breath, Blanca finally sat down beside him, her thoughts spinning as she reached for her phone once more. The decision had been made. She just wasn't sure what that decision would mean for either of them.
Blanca felt Adriano stir beside her, his movements slow and cautious. She turned her gaze toward him, her heart softening as she watched him shift, wincing slightly from the pain in his leg. His tired, sleepy expression was endearing, but the weight of everything she had been carrying over the past weeks still sat heavily on her chest.
"Everything okay, babe?" he murmured sleepily, his voice rough from the rest he'd been getting.
She hesitated, unsure of how to even begin the conversation that had been weighing on her for days. She didn't want to burden him, especially not when he was already dealing with the aftermath of his injury, but she knew she couldn't keep pretending everything was fine.
"It's work," she admitted quietly, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "People are starting to talk. Brands are hesitating to work with me. Some think I'm not serious about my career anymore."
Adriano's brow furrowed, and he pushed himself up slightly, wincing as he did. "Because of me?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern, as if the very thought pained him.
Blanca let out a long sigh and glanced down, her hands wringing together in her lap. She had known this moment was inevitable. "Not just because of you. But us. The age gap, their own speculations, the fact that I've canceled multiple things to be here with you—it's making people question my professionalism. They think I'm distracted."
Adriano's face tightened, his eyes darting away from hers. "I don't want you to lose your career because of me," he said, his words coming out strained, like a confession he hadn't intended to make.
Blanca's heart ached at the guilt in his voice. He didn't deserve to feel responsible for this, and yet here he was, caught up in something he had never asked for. "You're not making me lose anything," she said softly. "I was the one who dragged you into it. I made the choice to be here. I want to be here with you."
His expression shifted, a flicker of worry passing through his eyes. "But that choice is hurting you," he murmured, his voice laced with guilt. "I don't want that. I don't want to be the reason your career suffers."
Blanca's gaze dropped to her hands, her fingers pressed together as she tried to steady her breathing. She didn't want to argue about this, not now, not when he needed her, but the words felt like they were choking her. "And I don't want to be the reason you go through this alone," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet of the room.
They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the gentle patter of rain against the window. Blanca tried to clear her mind, but the reality of what was happening—the pull between her career and her love for Adriano—was too overwhelming to ignore. She could feel the weight of her choices, the pressure of an industry that expected everything from her and yet offered nothing but judgment in return.
Finally, Adriano exhaled deeply, his eyes meeting hers with a seriousness that made her heart skip a beat. "You should take the contracts," he said, his voice firm but gentle.
Blanca blinked in surprise. "What?"
He met her gaze with an intensity that left no room for argument. "Clara's right. You've worked too hard to let people think you're not serious. Take a shoot, do something—show them that you're still Blanca Suarez, the professional. I'll be okay. I don't want you to lose yourself in this."
Blanca searched his face for any sign of hesitation, but all she saw was sincerity. He wasn't asking her to choose between them; he was asking her to keep fighting for both.
"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice low, a flicker of doubt still lingering in her mind. Could they really make this work, balancing their demanding lives? Could she still maintain her career while being there for him the way she needed to be?
He nodded, a small but genuine smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. And besides..." He smirked slightly, a playful glint appearing in his eyes. "I can't have people thinking my girlfriend is some washed-up model just because she's in love with me."
Blanca laughed, the sound escaping her before she could stop it. She reached over and shoved his shoulder lightly. "You're an ass," she teased, though the tension that had been suffocating her chest slowly started to ease.
"I'm just saying," he grinned, his eyes full of mischief. "Prove them wrong." But as he spoke, the smile faltered ever so slightly. A shadow of doubt crossed his features, as if the weight of their situation was hitting him too. How would they make it work with both their schedules?
Blanca saw the hesitation behind his playful facade, and it made her pause. This wouldn't be easy. The demands of his career, the pressures of hers, the constant public scrutiny—it was a lot for any relationship to handle.
She took a deep breath, feeling something loosen in her chest. Maybe he was right. Maybe there was a way for them to find a balance. It wasn't going to be perfect, and it wasn't going to be easy, but if she wanted to keep both her career and her relationship intact, she was going to have to fight for it.
"Okay," she said after a moment, meeting his gaze. "I'll take the contracts. I'll book a shoot. I'll show them that I'm still Blanca Suarez—the model, the professional. I'm not going to let anyone define me based on my relationship. Not even the industry."
Adriano smiled, a little more at ease now. "That's my girl," he said, his tone full of pride. "I knew you could do it."
Blanca smiled back, feeling the weight of his words settle in her heart. It wasn't just about proving the world wrong; it was about proving to herself that she could still have it all—that she could still be herself, no matter the circumstances.
But as the smile lingered on her lips, another thought crossed her mind. How would they manage the time apart? How would they find the balance between their careers and their love for each other? Would they even be able to make it work with all the pressures that came with their lives?
The uncertainty was there, lingering in the background, but for now, it didn't matter. They had made the decision together. And together, they would figure out how to navigate the challenges ahead.
As Adriano leaned back against the pillows, his eyes closing again, Blanca settled beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. For the first time in days, she felt a small sense of relief, as if the weight of the world had momentarily lifted. They still had each other, and that was enough—for now.
The next day, Blanca sat down at her kitchen table, phone in hand, taking a deep breath before dialing Clara's number. The conversation she'd been putting off was finally going to happen.
Clara picked up almost immediately. "Blanca! I was starting to wonder if you were going to call me back or leave me in suspense forever."
Blanca couldn't help but smile at her agent's enthusiasm. "I'm sorry. I've had a lot on my mind." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "Start taking offers," she said firmly. "Select the big brands, though—cut down on the smaller ones and commercials. I need to focus on what will keep me relevant."
Clara's voice softened with relief. "Now that's what I like to hear. I've already re-contacted Louis Vuitton. Thankfully, they agreed to wait on you. I'll also confirm the fashion expo with Prada next week. But," she added, her tone shifting to one of caution, "just remember, these will take up a lot of time. You're going to be traveling a lot. You probably won't be in Spain for a while."
Blanca's chest tightened. She hadn't fully processed the extent of what she was committing to. She didn't want to leave. Not now. Not when Adriano was still recovering and their relationship felt like it was already being tested. But she knew she couldn't just throw everything away. Her career had taken years to build, and it wasn't just hers to toss aside.
She stared out the window, watching the busy city streets below, trying to push down the anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her. "I know. I just... I'm not sure about being away for so long. A few months... that feels like a lot." Her voice faltered, but she steadied herself. "I don't want to leave him alone right now. Not with everything happening. But at the same time, I can't stop the world from turning. I have to do this."
Clara was silent for a moment, letting the weight of her words settle. Then she spoke again, her tone softer. "It's a tough balance, but you'll make it work. You've always been able to handle everything life throws at you."
After they ended the call, Blanca spent the rest of the morning in a haze of thoughts. Her relationship with Adriano had become her anchor, but the pressure of her career, of what was expected of her, felt like a storm she couldn't avoid. She stared at the phone in her hand, considering whether she was making the right choice.
When Adriano returned from a short rest and settled back on the couch, his leg still propped up on pillows, he looked over at her with that familiar warmth in his eyes.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice low and cautious.
Blanca hesitated. "I spoke with Clara," she said, her voice distant. "The brands are coming through. Louis Vuitton's still on board, and Prada's lining up an expo. But it's... it's a lot. I'm going to be traveling a lot. I might be away for months at a time."
Adriano's face shifted, his lips pressing into a tight line. The conflict in his eyes was clear. He didn't want her to leave, not when they were still figuring out their footing. But he also knew how important her career was to her.
For a moment, he was silent, and then he sighed, pushing himself up slightly, despite the pain. "I don't want you to go," he admitted quietly, as if speaking the words caused him pain. "But I also don't want to be the reason you suffer. You've worked too hard to throw it all away. I'll be okay. You know that, right?"
Blanca's heart twisted. She could feel the guilt creeping in, but she pushed it away. "I know, Adriano. And I love you for understanding that. But I—" She stopped, looking down at her hands, torn between what she wanted and what she knew she had to do. "I want to be there with you. I really do. But I don't know how to make both our lives work like this. If I'm traveling constantly, how can we make time for us? How can we have a future if we never see each other?"
Adriano looked at her with a seriousness she hadn't seen before. "I don't mind if you have to go away for two months, but what happens after that? How do we make sure our work lets us spend time together? Can we even make it work like that?" His words hung in the air between them, and he watched her closely, waiting for an answer he wasn't sure existed.
Blanca felt a pang in her chest. She didn't have an answer. She wanted to reassure him, but the truth was, she wasn't sure how they would navigate their relationship with their schedules constantly pulling them in opposite directions.
"I honestly don't know," she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You're so important to me, Adriano. I want to be with you. I want to share those moments with you. But if I keep working like this... it's going to get harder and harder to see each other. I trust you—I know you wouldn't make this an excuse to see other women—but I wouldn't feel good about leaving you alone when you're going through your important moments without me."
Adriano's face softened, and he took her hand, squeezing it gently. "You know I won't make you choose between me and your career. You've worked too damn hard to get where you are. You deserve to be at the top."
Blanca felt a tear slip down her cheek, and she wiped it away quickly. "I know," she whispered. "That's why I love you so much. You've always been so supportive. And I feel terrible for dragging you into this mess when all you ever wanted to do was play football."
Adriano chuckled softly, his hand brushing her cheek. "I don't know what we're supposed to do, either," he admitted, shaking his head. "But let's forget about all that for now. Finish your shows, go to Paris, go wherever you need to be, and then come back before the season ends. I want to celebrate winning the league with you. Just be there. That's all I'm asking."
Blanca's heart swelled with affection, and she smiled through the tears. "I'll try my best to come back before May," she said, her voice steady. "I hope you can wait for me."
Adriano grinned, a playful light returning to his eyes. "I'll be here. I'll always be here."
Blanca leaned in and kissed him softly, the taste of his lips grounding her in the moment. She didn't have all the answers, and there was still so much to figure out, but for now, she had this—his support, his understanding—and that was enough.
They would make it work, somehow. They had to.