The energy in the stadium was electric. It was knockout football now—one mistake, one slip, and it was over. We've come too far to let that happen, though. We're the Lionesses, and we're ready. Still, even with the nerves buzzing through my veins, my thoughts drifted for a moment to Caitlin.

We hadn't spoken much today—both of us had been busy with our respective teams. But just before the warm-up, I checked my phone and smiled when I saw her message.

𝘾𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣 🤍
𝙂𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙚. 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧. 𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙫𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨—𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙙𝙤. 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪.

My heart skipped a beat as I read it. There was something about Cait's unwavering belief in me that settled my nerves. I smiled to myself, imagining her back at camp, probably sitting in front of the TV with the same intensity she brung to her own games. She always knew what to say to get me in the right mindset.

Tucking my phone away, I took a deep breath, feeling lighter and more focused. Time to switch on.

Nigeria came at us hard from the first whistle. They were quick, aggressive, and physical. It was nothing we didn't expect, but feeling it on the pitch was a different story. They pressed high, forcing us into uncomfortable positions. I tried to stay composed, playing through the midfield with Kiera, but we weren't finding our rhythm.

By the time the whistle blew for half-time, it was still 0-0, and we were all feeling the pressure. We'd had our chances, but so had they. We needed something—some spark to ignite our performance in the second half.

As we head back to the dressing room, I sneak a glance at my phone. A few messages pop up, but the one that stands out is from Caitlin.

𝘾𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣 🤍
𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨. 𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙚—𝙮𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙤𝙢𝙚. 𝙄 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪.

A surge of calm washes over me. Cait's words always do that—ground me, remind me of who I am on the pitch. She calls me the metronome, and it makes me smile because I know what she means. I control the tempo, I can dictate the game, if I just trust myself.

I lock my phone, tuck it into my bag, and breathe deeply. Time to prove her right.

The second half doesn't get any easier. Nigeria is relentless, but we keep fighting, pushing for a breakthrough. I'm more composed now, keeping the ball moving, looking for pockets of space, but they're tight at the back.

The minutes tick by, and we're still locked in a dead heat. Every now and then, I catch Millie looking over at me with a reassuring nod. She's the anchor at the back, holding things together, while I try to make things happen up top. But it's just not falling for us.

And then the whistle blows again—extra time.

We're all exhausted, but there's no time to think about that. Nigeria keeps coming at us, and the longer it goes on, the more it feels like penalties are inevitable. It's not what we want, but we're ready.

As the final whistle blows, it's still 0-0. Penalties it is.

We gather together, arms slung over shoulders as we wait for Sarina to announce the penalty takers. The tension is suffocating, but we try to shake it off with quiet words of encouragement. When she turns to me and calls my name, I nod without hesitation.

I'm known for my penalties. I've taken them for England before and I won us the FA Cup back at Arsenal. I've been waiting for this moment. The others look at me, trust in their eyes, and I feel Caitlin's words from earlier echoing in my mind. You're in control.

Millie steps up first, confident as ever, and buries hers. 1-0.

Nigeria score their next one. 1-1.

Lucy puts hers away easily. 2-1.

Then Nigeria miss—hitting the post. The entire stadium gasps as the ball flies wide, and I feel the hope build.

Georgia coolly slots hers in. 3-1.

Nigeria pulls another one back, but it's still 3-2. We're ahead.

Then it's my turn.

I step up to the spot, the weight of the moment pressing down on me, but I push it all away. I've been here before. I've practised this countless times. With a deep breath, I focus on the ball, the goal, the keeper, nothing else.

I take a few steps back, plant my foot, and strike.

The ball hits the back of the net with a satisfying thud.

4-2.

The stadium erupts around me, and I jog back to my teammates, my heart racing but my face calm. They swarm around me, congratulating me, but the job isn't finished yet. We just need one more to seal it.

Alessia steps up for the final penalty, and with the calmest strike, she sends the ball straight into the bottom corner.

5-2.

We've done it. England's through to the quarter-finals.

As the celebrations start, the relief and joy wash over me like a wave. We did it. We held our nerve and got the result we needed. The crowd's chanting our names, the adrenaline's still pumping, and I feel like I'm floating.

Before I know it, I've grabbed my phone, eager to share the moment with Caitlin. Sure enough, there's already a message waiting.

𝘾𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣 🤍
𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏𝙎 𝙈𝙔 𝙂𝙄𝙍𝙇!!! 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙩. 𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙞𝙩! 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩. 𝙎𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙚.

I can't help the grin that spreads across my face as I read Caitlin's message. My whole body feels lighter, like the pressure of the match is melting away with every word. Knowing she's been watching, feeling her support even from halfway across the world, makes the victory that much sweeter.

I quickly type out a reply, my fingers flying over the screen as my teammates celebrate around me.

𝘾𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣 🤍

𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏𝙎 𝙈𝙔 𝙂𝙄𝙍𝙇!!! 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙
𝙞𝙩. 𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙞𝙩! 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙩
𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩. 𝙎𝙤 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙙
𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙚.

𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚
𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙚, 𝙞𝙣 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙮. 𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩
𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙛 𝙞𝙩. 𝙄
𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝. 💕

I send the message and then look up, taking in the scene around me. Lucy's dancing in the middle of the pitch with Alessia, while Millie and Georgia are laughing about something only they understand. Jordan's talking with Leah, who's on FaceTime, her injured knee propped up somewhere back home. It's good to see Leah smiling after everything she's been through.

I make my way over to Jordan, who's holding her phone out, and I catch a glimpse of Leah and Beth on the screen. They're sitting together, both injured but still so much a part of this journey.

Beth grins when she sees me. "You nailed that penalty, Elena! Knew you would."

Leah, always a little more composed, just smiles warmly. "Yeah, you were ice-cold. Well done, mate."

I chuckle, leaning into the screen a bit more. "Thanks, guys. Wish you were both here with us."

"We're here in spirit," Leah says, waving her hand. "You girls keep doing what you're doing. We'll be back soon enough."

Jordan nudges me with her elbow, her smile wide. "And how many times did you check your phone today for Cait's messages, huh?"

I roll my eyes, playfully shoving her back. "Not that many," I lie, but Jordan knows better. She raises her eyebrows knowingly, and I can't help but laugh.

"I'd check mine a million times, too, if I were dating Caitlin," Beth chimes in with a cheeky grin. Leah swats her lightly on the arm.

"You two just focus on recovery," I say, smiling at the screen. "We've got more matches to win, and we're going to need you cheering us on, loud and clear."

"We're not going anywhere," Leah promises, her voice serious now. "Keep going. You've got this."

After all the celebrations, the post-match interviews, and the team dinner, I found myself finally alone in my hotel room. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving behind the tired ache of my muscles and the steady hum of satisfaction in my chest.

I picked up my phone, scrolling through messages of congratulations from friends and teammates back home, but it's Caitlin's that I keep coming back to. I reread her words from earlier, her belief in me steady and unwavering.

I tap the call button before I can overthink it, and after a few rings, she answers. Her face fills my screen, and even though she's miles away, it feels like she's right here with me.

"Hey, champ," she greets me, her smile wide and infectious. "You look good for someone who just played 120 minutes and took a penalty."

I laugh, the sound soft but genuine. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck."

She leans in closer to the camera, her eyes full of warmth. "You were incredible. Seriously, I'm so proud of you."

I bite my lip, feeling a swell of emotion that I've been holding back all day. "I couldn't have done it without you. Your messages... they kept me grounded."

Cait's expression softens, her voice turning tender. "That's what I'm here for, Elena. We're a team, you and me."

We sit in comfortable silence for a moment, just looking at each other, feeling the connection even through the screen. It's moments like these that make the distance bearable, knowing that no matter how far apart we are, we're always supporting each other.

"I wish you could've been here," I say quietly, the ache of missing her creeping back in.

"I know," she replies, her voice gentle. "But you've got this. You've got so many people who believe in you. And I'm with you every step of the way, even if it's from across the world."

I nod, feeling the truth of her words settle into my bones. "I love you," I whisper.

"I love you too," she says, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Now, how are you feeling about Australia?" She asks and I giggle. I've always admired Caitlin for how fond she is of her home country and being here to see it for my own eyes made me feel ten times more connected to her.

"Honestly?" I say, a smile tugging at my lips. "It's incredible. I finally understand why you love it so much. The energy here... it's something else."

Caitlin beams, pride evident in her eyes. "I'm glad you get to experience it, even if I'm not there to show you around. Just wait until you see more of it—there's so much to fall in love with."

I settle back into the pillows, feeling a bit lighter just hearing her voice. "It's weird being here without you. I feel like everywhere I look, I'm thinking, 'Cait would love this' or 'I wish she could see that.'"

Her expression softens, and she gives me a look that makes my heart ache. "We'll come back together one day," she promises. "We'll do it properly. You, me, and all the time in the world."

"Deal," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

We talk for a while longer, the conversation shifting between light teasing and deeper moments, but there's always that undercurrent of connection between us. Eventually, though, the exhaustion begins to catch up with me, and I stifle a yawn.

Caitlin notices immediately. "Alright, champ, time for you to rest. You've earned it."

I sigh, reluctant to end the call. "I don't want to hang up."

Her smile softens. "I know. But you need your rest. I'll be here when you wake up. Always."

I nod, feeling a warmth spread through me at her words. "I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Count on it," she says, her smile as reassuring as ever. "Sweet dreams, Elena. I love you."

"I love you too, Cait."

As I hang up, the quiet of the hotel room settles around me, but this time it doesn't feel so lonely. I close my eyes, Caitlin's voice echoing softly in my mind, and let myself drift off to sleep, already looking forward to tomorrow when we'll talk again.