I sat in the corner near the door of the changing room, the hum of excitement buzzing around me as my teammates got ready for the biggest match of our lives—the semi-finals against Australia. The air was thick with nerves and adrenaline, but all I could think about was the reality of this game: it's me versus Caitlin.

Ever since our relationship went public, the headlines had spun tales of our love story while juxtaposing the fierce rivalry between our countries. I could almost hear the commentators' voices echoing in my head, dissecting our every move, every play.

Just as I started to spiral into my thoughts, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, and my heart skipped when I saw Caitlin's name.

𝘾𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣 🤍
𝙃𝙚𝙮, 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙪𝙥? 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩?

I couldn't help but smile at the message. It was a lifeline amidst the pressure. I quickly replied, agreeing to meet outside the changing rooms. My stomach fluttered with anticipation and nerves.

I slipped out of the changing room and headed down the corridor, looking for a quiet spot. As I turned the corner, there she was—Caitlin, leaning against the wall, her hair slightly tousled and her eyes bright with a mix of determination and warmth.

"Hey," I say softly, the weight of the world lifting a little.

"Hey," she replies a smile breaking across her face that lights up the dim corridor.

We settle down against the wall, our knees drawn up to our chests, and for a moment, the outside world fades away. The muffled sounds of our teammates preparing for battle seem far away.

This is our first time being in each other's presence since that night in our apartment just before the end of the season, and now we have to face each other on the pitch for the world to see.

"It's been too long," I whisper, breaking the silence, my voice barely above a murmur.

"Yeah, it has," Caitlin replies, her gaze steady, locking onto mine with an intensity that sends butterflies racing through my stomach. "You ready for this?"

I nod, but the truth is, I'm still processing everything—the weight of expectations, the pressure to perform, and the reality that one of us would walk away disappointed. "I guess so. It just feels surreal, you know? Like we've been preparing for this moment forever, and now it's finally here."

Caitlin leans back against the wall, her expression thoughtful. "I know what you mean. We've talked about this for so long, but nothing can really prepare you for actually being here."

The gravity of our situation hangs in the air, but I feel a warmth spread through me as I remember all the little moments we had shared—the late-night talks, the laughter, the quiet moments of comfort. "Can you braid my hair?" I ask quietly, a hint of nostalgia creeping in.

"Of course," she smiles, and as her fingers begin to weave through my hair, I feel a sense of calm wash over me. Each gentle tug feels like a reminder of home, of simpler times, as if we were back in our little bubble away from the chaos.

As Caitlin works, I could smell the faint scent of her shampoo, something floral and fresh. I close my eyes for a moment, losing myself in the rhythmic motion of her hands. "I missed this," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," she replies softly, her fingers pausing for just a heartbeat. "It's hard to believe we're here, about to play against each other, after everything we've been through."

"Yeah," I chuckle lightly, though it feels more like a nervous laugh. "It's like the universe has a twisted sense of humor."

"Right? But I wouldn't want to go through this with anyone else," Caitlin says, her voice steady and sincere. "No matter what happens today, you know we'll be okay, right?"

I nod, feeling the bond between us strengthen even amidst the competition. "Yeah, we will. But I still want to win. I don't think I can handle losing to you."

Caitlin laughs, a sound that feels like sunshine in the dim corridor. "Same here. But just know, no matter what, I'm proud of you."

Just then, the sounds of the match preparations began to grow louder, pulling us back to reality. I took a deep breath, realizing our moment was slipping away. "Thanks, Cait," I say as she finishes the braid, tying it off with a small hair tie.

"Anytime," she replies, giving my braid a gentle tug. "Now let's go show them what we're made of."

We stand up together, the air charged with electricity as we head toward the tunnel, hearts pounding and minds focused. I glanced back at Caitlin as our eyes met again, a silent promise exchanged—no matter what happened on that pitch, we would always find our way back to each other.

I made my way to the front of the tunnel where I stood behind Millie. My heart beat in my chest as I heard the fans cheering outside, buzzing for the game to begin.

I glance to my side and see Steph stood with her hands behind her back in a professional manor. She feels my eyes on her and turns to face me with a soft smile.

"Proud of you for making it this far, Elena," she says, her voice firm and supportive.

"Thanks, Steph. It means a lot," I reply, feeling a swell of gratitude. "You guys have made a lot of history too." I nudge her, playfully, missing the days we'd stay up late in the apartment and binge movies to ungodly hours despite having training the next day.

"I suppose we have." She pulls me into a quick side hug, and it fills me with a rush of determination.

I glance back towards Caitlin as we step out onto the pitch, our eyes meeting for a brief moment that feels like a promise and a challenge all at once.

The first half is intense, with both teams pushing hard. When Tooney scores, I can't help but celebrate with my teammates, throwing my arms in the air as Rachel comes over and celebrates with me, but as I look up, I catch Caitlin's gaze on me from across the pitch. The excitement of our goal mingles with a twinge of guilt; one of us will ultimately go home tonight.

The realization hangs heavy in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the stakes we're both playing for.

Caitlin turns away from me and I know she doesn't hate me, but we're both competitive people. We both want to win.

As I watched Caitlin walk away while still being pulled into the celebration, I could feel everyone's eyes on me. The Matilda's, my teammates, the audience. Everyone knew we were a token. Everyone knew we shared a love for one another and now that was being tested.

As the match progressed into the second half, I felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins. In the 63rd minute, Sam scored for Australia, and I could feel the tide shifting. Frustration bubbled within me, and I knew I needed to step up my game. Australia had equalised with us and as much as I loved the preassure and emotion from taking penalties, I'd rather we not go through that this game.

As the game reset, I could see Caitlin with the ball, making a break for the goal after Steph long passed it to her. Instinct took over as I sprinted after her, knowing I couldn't let her score. My legs pumped beneath me as I watched her get closer and closer to the penalty box. I knew what Caitlin was like on the ball, I'd seen it from the inside and now I was seeing it from the outside.

Caitlin didn't know I was running behind her as I got closer to her. Before I could even stop myself, I was falling to my knees as I slide tackled the ball from her, my foot pushing the ball out just before she could pass it to Mary Fowler.

I stood up and faced her, chest heaving from the effort. Caitlin looked frustrated, but as we walked past each other, our hands brushed lightly. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes—an acknowledgment of our friendship amidst the competition.

The momentum shifted again when Hempo scored for us, making it 1-2. I felt the pressure mounting, and in a moment of panic, I accidentally handled the ball. The whistle blew and I felt a rush of annoyance as I argued with the referee.

"It barely even touched my nail, that can't be a hand ball." I yell at the ref, who seems to not care about my point of arguement.

"The VAR checked. It's a handball." She tells me and I wipe at my forhead.

I feel hands on my shoulders and turn my head to see Lucy behind me telling me it's okay while Rachel and Millie come around me aswell. Millie, being the captain, talks to the ref for me while I get pulled away by Rach and Lucy.

"Don't worry we've got this." Lucy tells me and I let out a frustrated sigh, but nod my head.

I watch the Matildas gather with their coach, Tony, tension thick in the air as they decide who will take the penalty.

My heart races when I see Caitlin step up.

"After review, there's a punishable handball by number 24. Decision is penalty." The ref calls and points to Caitlin while blowing her whistle.

My heart beats faster then I think is humanely possible as Caitlin runs forward and strikes the ball. I watch closely as the ball curves. Mary dives to stop it, but she misses it and the ball goes in, creating a ripple in the back of the net while the stadium erupts in cheers.

I throw my head back in frustration as the score becomes 2-2 and it's all my fault. I swear under my breath, but as Caitlin walks past me, I can't help but whisper the words "Well done, Cait." while holding my hand out for her, the words leaving my lips almost automatically.

The match reached its climax as we grew closer to the end of the game. Before I could even see what was happening, Less scored. making the score 2-3.

The final whistle sounds.