Cristiano straightened his sore neck and walked down the plane's aisle, flashed a small smile at the Air India air hosts. Once he was on the tarmac, he finally let go of the breath he was holding. He hadn't told anyone, not even a single soul. Just got up, missing Zarine too fucking much to just go out and pretend that it was okay, drove to the airport and got on a plane.

The minute the plan took off, he wanted to jump off and go back to his house. A million questions rang through his brain. What if he couldn't find her house? What if she refused to see him? What if she told him she hated him? What if she never forgave him? What ifs, what ifs.

But then he calmed down. He wasn't going there to ask her to be his girlfriend, he knew he'd lost that entitlement because of his stupidity, jealousy and okay, he had been kind of possessive. All he wanted was to see her one last time, apologise for his behaviour, let her know that he'd committed a mistake and he knew it. His feelings for her would never change but he wanted to tell her that he knew now that his articulation of those feelings had been terribly skewed that day. Hell, he'd known it the minute she'd left his house but he'd let the moment override his brain. Not understood the extent of his words until it had been too late.

The past weeks he'd wished he could turn back time, take back those words, time and again. Of course, there was a part of him that hurt and wondered if he had ever meant anything more than a fling to Zarine because he'd been truthful in his love. He had wanted a life with her, he still wanted one. Sometimes, he felt his heart would just break from the hopelessness of his love.

He got on a taxi and tried to keep his cap low so as to avoid attention. As the trees and buildings whizzed past his windows, he thought, I should have come sooner. I should have come that very day. But the sad thing about people, yes, even famous footballers, is that sometimes they think too much and let fear and apprehension get the better of them. Even they think that they're not good enough and that people don't actually really like them. It's human nature. To muster up the courage to let go of these fears, to own up to your wrong, to apologise is no small thing but Cristiano was going to try. Better late than never.

The taxi stopped to halt and now he could see Zarine's house. His hand shook slightly as he handed the fare and got down, a slingbag over his shoulder. Halfway down the drive, he felt that he was doing a big mistake again. She's obviously moved on. Why open old wounds?

I just want to see her.

I just want to see her smile.

I just want to hear her voice.

I just want to tell her I'm so sorry and that I miss her, that I'm a fool and I love her.

He took a deep breath, the kind he took before important penalties and pressed the doorbell. The door opened all too quick and he braced himself.

"Cristiano Ronaldo?"

He breathed, trying to remember what the correct greeting was, "Uh, assalamalaikum, Aunty. I'm Zarine's-" Ex-boyfriend? Boyfriend who messed up? "-friend." Wonder what she's told her family? Do they hate me too? Please don't hate me.

Firoza rolled her eyes, "Of course I remember who you are. Best footballer in the world is pretty tough to forget. Come in, come in." She pointed him towards the sofa, "Toh, beta, yahan kaise aana hua? Match hai kya?"

Cristiano tried to understand but could only look back with glazed eyes, "Uh sorry?" His stock of Urdu phrases was limited to "mujhe tumse betahasha mohabbat hai, jaaneman", "khudahafiz" and "Gareth aur mere beech mein aisa kuch nahi hai, yaar!" all of which he spoke brokenly and slowly. He did understand the word beta meant son so that probably meant Zarine's family didn't hate him. Probably.

"Didn't learn Urdu from Zarine? She would be a bad teacher anyway. All she does is tap away on her phone. Come to think of it, she hasn't been that obsessed with her phone lately....Sorry, what was I saying? Oh right, I was asking about your visit. What are you doing here? Do you have a match or something?"

What do I tell her? How much has Zarine told them? Nothing ever goes to my plans whyyy.

He spoke slowly, making it up as he went along, "Oh I was just passing through so I thought I'd pay my friend a visit."

"Oh," nodded Firoza. "Well, I trust you. You're not like those horny stalker-boys one sees on tv nowadays. Thanks for taking care of my Zarine when she went to Madrid. I heard you even paid for her hotel? Very nice of you. I'm glad you two are friends but surely you know that Zarine is at her job till about five? Should I call her and ask her to cancel some of her classes and come home? I'm sure she'd be delighted to see you and you've come a long way."

"No, no," Cristiano began. "I don't want to mess her schedule."

"Arrey, it's okay," Firoza shushed him, picking up her phone. "Cancelling a couple of classes is not a huge thing. Besides, she's been really down in the dumps since she came back. I figured she was missing you and Madrid because that lazybum probably enjoyed her stay there. Oh I have to thank you for getting her to eat broccoli. You should have been a mother, Cristiano."

"Uh, thanks?" he looked flustered. Zarine didn't even tell them she stayed with me. For her family, "us" doesn't even exist... No, she had reasons, I shouldn't overthink. I shouldn't doubt. Because if I start doing that, I'll start doubting everything. She's the smartest girl I know. I trust her. I trust her with my life, I can trust her with my heart. "But seriously, don't ask her to cancel her classes. I-I know she's worked hard to get this job and she really does like teaching...how about I go to her college and surprise her?"

"Oh you could do that but don't surprise her too hard, you know it's bad for the heart?"

"Yeah," he couldn't help but smile at how motherly Firoza was.

She wrote down the address for him as she talked, "So, how is family? Is your Mom's backache any better? And your siblings? All good? Good, good. Tell them I send my duas. That's good wishes, by the way. Here you go."

"Thank you so much, Aunty."

"No problem, beta. I just wish Farhan was here to talk with you because I can be a bit boring but it's a weekday so he's at school. Why don't you come again sometime?"

If your daughter allows. Which she won't. Because she hates me. Because I didn't give her the one thing she asked of me. Respect.

In fact, by the time he left, he actually met Farhan coming up the driveway and just like the last time he'd met him, Cristiano couldn't help but notice that even though Farhan was younger, he was the calmer, more serious one than Zarine. It was a good thing that he met the boy because Farhan told Cris the valuable info of how to get in a college campus without a college ID and helped him get a taxi.

The ride to the college was a short one and soon he was standing outside the college gates of St. Patrick College. Cristiano remembered Farhan's advice, Just take a backpack so that it looks like you're a normal college goer. Keep your head low. There are a lot of fests going on at the moment, they won't pay much attention to you. If they ask for a college ID card, tell them you're there for your college promotions. If all else fails, use your face. Also, she ain't that mad. She misses you terribly. She'll be happy to see you.

Cristiano shouldered Farhan's lent backpack and sauntered in through the gates easily thinking that Farhan was an amazing person. Plus, he'd relieved a bit of his apprehension by hinting that he was one person who actually knew about Cristiano and Zarine in her family.

He walked around the college corridors, desperately trying to avoid attention and peeping into classrooms looking for her.

And just like that he found her. He heard her first, actually. And then he saw her. It felt like his heart would break from the clench it felt from seeing her after so long. There she is. She's there. She's there.

Instantly, he knew something was wrong. Her mask was good but he could see through it. She was smiling but it wasn't her smile. It wasn't that spontaneous, full-mouthed, twinkling eyes smile. This was more of a packaged smile. The kind he did when he had to force a positive reaction in front of the cameras.

And her eyes? Sorrow, sorrow, sorrow. This Zarine had huge dark circles and eyes that seemed tired, as if they'd seen something beautiful die and had survived it only to relive it day by day.

Zarine.

[ Yaaaas he's back in India! But who knows what will happen next? ;)

By the way guys, this book is soon going to get over omg :'( Omegle has come so far and we are so proud of it. Hope you guys are enjoying it too #ZarianoForever

Also we have started thefootballproject which aims at bringing more recognition to the football fandom and its books on Wattpad. We have lots of fun things planned like contests, reviews, promotions etc. We really really reallllly hope you guys will check it out and show your support :)

The sticker on the cover is to show the support for this project and anyone who wants to be a part of the project can put it up too as well as use the tag #thefootballproject on their stories. All the details are on the project account.

Ps: we are really happy you guys enjoyed the playlist :)

Love you all xx]