Emma Lingard, the younger sister of Jesse Lingard, has a daughter. Brooklyn Ximena Ramos-Lingard. No, Sergio doesn't know about her, but. he will know now.
IDK, I'm bad at this and read if you want.
#64 in Sergio Ramos
"Why did you call me??" I ask as I walk into the guest room, I close the door behind me, "Emma's going to fucking kill me!!! I can't fucking breathe right no—" "Sergio Ramos García!!! I swear to God!!" I whisper/shout.
"I just woke up—I went out with a few friends last night—I got drunk and went up to some random person—I told them about Brooklyn, I told them her name—full name and I can't go back home right now—Pilar will kill me," he spits out, I take VERY big deep breaths. "Be glad that Brooklyn is in my house right now, or else you would be dead." I sit down on the bed and think, "Why'd you tell them about the one thing that we agreed to keep private?!?" I ask, "I don't know—all I know is that I can wake up tomorrow morning and my life will be over—along with Brooklyn's. My daughter won't be private anymore—she'll live with our lifestyle—the one thing I hate about my career is my fucking lifestyle." Sergio rants, "Ok, I don't know what to tell you—right now—just assume that whoever you told, doesn't know you." I say and look at the ground.
"You screwed up, you know that...you just risked your daughter's safety—so, if we wake up tomorrow and either her name or your name is on the news. I'm coming to your house and killing you—if it's not on the news, which I think it will be on the news, then I'm second-guessing if you can see her." I say I hear him groan, "Why won't I be able to see her?" he asks, with a tone, "Dude, really...you just told me, that you got shitfaced drunk—and told some random person about your daughter!!" I say, gradually raise my voice.
"We can talk later, I'm just pissed at you and your fucked-up decisions—again," I say and end the call.
I set my phone aside and start to cry, "Ben, why are you crying??" I hear someone ask; I know it's Emma when she sits behind me.
"Serg...he got drunk last night...he knows you'll hate him after I tell you this. Em, he doesn't know who he told—but he told someone about Brooklyn, her name—full name. He isn't going home; Pilar will kill his ass if she finds him wasted—again." I tell her. I rub her arms and I feel her crying, "Em, I know he didn't mean to do this. I rarely hear or see him cry—this is the 3rd time with me around." I say and sit her in my lap.
"Do you want to talk to him?" I ask Emma, she shakes her head, "You know he hates himself so much right now—despite us not talking, I know he wants to hear from you." I tell her, she nods her head and I hug her.
"How come he told you?" she whispers, "He was having a panic attack—I had to calm him down. If he called you, it would wake Brook up and she would want to talk to him." I tell her. She nods her head and we lay back in bed, "You 2 stay here—no excuses—you both need sleep." I tell her.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
