HERES THE FIRST CHAPTER OF PART TWO! It will continue during the european championship in France, have fun reading! :)
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Manuel sighed as he looked out of the small airplane window. His stomach was doing flips at the thought of possibly seeing her again.
It had been two years. Two years. The day that Manuel had listened in on the call she had with Mesut was the last time he ever heard her voice. It's not like he hadn't tried. He had called her that night, and the morning after, and when he knew she had landed in Portugal. He had called her a lot, but she never picked up her phone.
He had texted her as well. At first he'd text her everyday asking how she was. That slowly turned in to begging her to respond. And finally, after his begging, he gave up. The texts had become less frequent as Arabella became a memory to him. A memory he couldn't get rid off. Instead of begging her to respond he started giving her updates on his life. He would text her every few weeks, updating her on anything and everything that had happened.
He didn't know why he did it. Maybe he was desperately clinging on to a feeling of stomach churning butterflies that only the mere thought of Arabella reading his texts could provide him. Maybe he was just refusing to let go.
How ever, Arabella hadn't replied once in the span of two years. It had been hard for Manuel, even though they had only spent a short splinter of time in each others company.
Manuel had kept up with her by following her social media accounts, as well as those of Cristiano. The rare photo's that were posted of her would make his heart beat twice as fast and then stop all together.
Manuel sighed once more, letting his head fall backwards against the uncomfortably low head rest.
He had finally found the girl of his dreams, and all he was to her was a holiday fling.
He had tried to occupy his heart from aching by dating other women, but it never helped. He had become slightly obsessed with the idea of Arabella, the one that got away.