The sun was relentless, beating down on us as we moved through another intense training session. The sound of boots connecting with the ball, sharp commands from Sarina, and the buzz of concentration hung in the air. Everything felt sharper, more urgent. This wasn't just about improving now—this was about perfection. The World Cup final was only days away.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead, my lungs burning as I sprinted toward the ball. Every fiber of my being was focused, tuned into this moment, this pitch. Winning wasn't just about me. It was about my teammates, my country, and even Caitlin. We may have just played against each other, but I knew she'd want me to push myself to the edge.

The whistle blew, signaling a water break. I slowed down, catching my breath, and just as I did, I noticed Millie and Rach up ahead, their arms draped around each other, laughing about something. They were always finding a way to lighten the mood, no matter the pressure. I couldn't help but smile at them.

"Oi, what are you two laughing about?" I call as I jog over, still catching my breath.

Millie turns with a mischievous grin. "Just thinking about how we're gonna smash Spain in the final."

Rachel snickers, leaning into her. "Easy peasy."

I laugh, shaking my head. "You two are unreal."

Before I know it, they have their arms around me, pulling me in close as we walk together, all three of us with our arms slung over each other's shoulders. "You ready for this, Els?" Millie asks, her tone serious now.

"I've never been more ready," I reply, meaning every word. "Let's win this for England."

Rachel squeezes my shoulder. "And maybe for someone special, too?"

I roll my eyes, trying to keep my cool, but the thought of Caitlin crosses my mind. "Alright, alright," I mutter with a smile as we reach the water station. The intensity might have been sky-high, but moments like this with the girls reminded me of what we were fighting for. Each other.

After lunch, Sarina had called for a team meeting. We all gathered in the conference room, the tension immediately heavier. It was time to talk strategy—our final preparation for Spain. The projector clicked on, displaying Spain's team sheet, and we all fell silent.

Sarina's voice is calm but firm as she addresses us. "Spain is not an easy team to break. They play with precision, especially through the midfield. Aitana Bonmatí, Alexia Putellas—these are players we need to neutralize."

I listen closely as she breaks down their movements, their positioning, and how we can exploit their weaknesses. But my mind stars to wander when she brings up Ona Batlle. The room seems to close in a little as her name is mentioned. Ona's a force to be reckoned with, and I knew that better than anyone. We faced each other before, but this time... this time was different.

This was the World Cup final.

I shift in my seat, feeling my heart beat a little quicker. Ona and I had sorted out our issues between each other, leaving us being more friendlier on the pitch, but I knew she'd be coming for me just as hard as I would be going for her. Our last match-up during the Euros had been intense, but this... this was bigger. The stakes were so much higher.

"Keep an eye on Batlle," Sarina says, glancing at me as if she knows. "She'll be trying to shut you down on the right, but that's where we can win the battle. Don't let her get into your head."

I nod, trying to steel myself. I had to be ready for this. I had to rise above.

As the meeting ended, and we all headed back to our rooms to rest, the weight of what was ahead settled deep into my chest.

Back at the hotel, no matter how hard I tried to quiet my mind, sleep was impossible. My thoughts churned restlessly, replaying today's training, Sarina's tactical talk, and, of course, the upcoming final.

I stared up at the ceiling, tossing and turning in the darkness. I was drained physically, but mentally? I was wide awake, nerves gnawing at me. My phone rested on the nightstand, glowing softly in the dim light. Without even thinking, I reached for it and scrolled through my contacts.

Caitlin's name stared back at me.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I pressed call. The phone rang only twice before her sleepy face appeared on the screen, her hair messy but still so familiar and comforting.

"Els?" Her voice is soft, still laced with sleep, but I can tell she isn't annoyed that I called.

"Hey," I whisper, careful not to wake anyone in the rooms nearby. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

She shifts slightly, her duvet rustling as she sits up in bed. "Nah, it's alright. I wasn't really sleeping," she says, rubbing her eyes. "What's up? Can't sleep?"

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah, I don't know... My mind won't shut off. The final, the pressure—it's just... it's a lot."

Caitlin's expression softens, her sleepy eyes turning gentle as she gazes at me through the screen. "You've been carrying a lot, babe. But you know you've got this, right? You've been incredible all tournament."

I smile, but the weight still lingered. "I just want to make you proud," I admit, my voice small and vulnerable.

Caitlin chuckles softly. "Els, you've already made me proud. You've made everyone proud. But more importantly, you should be proud of yourself. This is huge. Not just for you, but for England. And no matter what happens in that game, you've already made me incredibly proud and also your country."

Her words settle the anxiety swirling inside me, but I still feel a twinge of something—maybe guilt?—lingering under the surface. "I know," I whisper. "But it's weird... I wish we were in the final together."

Caitlin smiles, that sad, wistful smile she always gets when we talk about this. "Yeah... me too. But hey, it's your time now. I'm behind you 100%."

I grin at her through the screen, feeling my heart swell. "Remember the first time we met and I tackled you to the ground to get you out during bulldog." I ask, changing the topic to a memory that always made me smile.

She laughs, her eyes lighting up. "How could I forget? You almost broke my ribs with the way you grabbed me by the waist and tackled me."

I roll my eyes, smirking. "I was just... enthusiastic."

"Yeah, enthusiastic about taking me out," she teases.

I smile, my heart warming as I recall that day. It was back when everything was simpler, before the world knew about us, before the weight of the World Cup.

"Who knew that tackle would lead to all this," I murmur, my voice softening.

Caitlin nods, her expression turning tender. "Funny how things work out, huh?"

I hesitate for a second, my thumb brushing over the corner of my phone screen, before I speak again. "You know... I haven't told the girls this yet, but after the finals, I'm not flying back to England right away."

Her brow furrows slightly, confusion flickering in her sleepy eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I'm staying in Australia," I say quietly, watching as her eyes widen in surprise. "For a while. After the finals, I'm gonna stay here with you."

For a moment, Caitlin just stares at me, as if processing what I've just said. Then her expression breaks into the warmest smile I've ever seen.

"You serious?"

I nod, a grin creeping across my face. "Yeah. I figured... why rush back? We've been apart too much already this year. I want to be with you. And I'm hoping... you won't mind having me around."

Caitlin laughs, a quiet, breathy sound that makes my heart flutter. "Mind? Are you kidding? You know I've been missing you like crazy."

"Well, surprise," I say with a grin.

She smiles, that bright, warm smile that always makes everything feel better, even in the middle of the night. "God, I love you," she murmurs, her voice tender and filled with affection. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

I feel a warmth bloom in my chest at her words. "I love you too," I whisper.

For a few moments, we just stare at each other, the silence comfortable, like a gentle lull between us. I could feel the tension from the day starting to melt away.

Caitlin sighs, breaking the silence. "You're gonna be incredible in the final, you know that?"

"I hope so," I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck.

She tilts her head, giving me a look. "No, seriously. Don't let it get in your head, alright? Just do what you do best and no matter what happens out there I love you. I love you more than I'll ever be able to show you."

Her words settle over me like a calming blanket, and I find myself nodding. "Thanks, Cait. I really needed this."

"Anytime, Els," she smiles, her voice softening with sleep again. "Now get some rest. You've got a big day ahead."

"Yeah, I will. Night, Cait."

"Night."

I hung up the phone, a quiet smile lingering on my lips as I set it back down on the nightstand. I felt calmer, more grounded. Caitlin always had that effect on me.

As I turned over in bed, I caught sight of her shirt lying folded at the end of my bed. I smiled to myself, pulling it on before sinking back into the pillows, finally ready for sleep. But then, a thought crossed my mind. I had planned to tell her I was staying after the final, but now I was imagining the look on her face when she found out I meant it.

I pulled the duvet tighter around me, finally letting my eyes close. Maybe now, with Caitlin's words echoing softly in my mind, I'd actually get some sleep.