Love Offside: Four Top Champions Crave My Return

Český Krumlov, Czech Republic.

"Mom, I'm doing great, honestly. You really don't need to keep worrying about me. Summer here is surprisingly comfortable. Most of the buildings are built from stone, so the interiors stay pleasantly cool even on warmer days. You should definitely come and see it for yourself someday. I rented that lovely place you said looked so inviting in the photos. The rent is affordable, and my translation jobs bring in more than enough to cover my expenses. And guess what? I've even made a new friend. We met at my landlady's birthday celebration. She teaches German at the local secondary school, so communication is effortless. In fact, I'm heading out to meet her right now. So talk to you later, Mom."

After ending the video call, Irene shut her laptop and released a quiet sigh.

There were still forty minutes left before her planned meeting with her new friend. There was no need to rush.

The small town in southern Czechia was remarkably peaceful and compact. The distances were so short that, unless someone was carrying heavy bags to the bus station, there was little reason to call a taxi. Even owning a bicycle felt optional.

Despite its size, the town was anything but ordinary.

Quaint historic homes lined its winding streets, their red roofs creating a patchwork of warm colors. The Vltava River meandered gracefully through the town in a broad S-shape, enhancing its storybook charm.

Encircled by forests and hills, accompanied by the gentle sound of flowing water, and crowned by an ancient castle, the town felt like a secluded refuge for anyone seeking peace.

Irene walked toward her wardrobe, but her gaze was inevitably drawn to the mirror. Staring back at her was the heavier version of herself she had become.

After staying here for a while, she had at least learned to face her reflection without immediately looking away. Yet tolerance was not the same as acceptance. She was not happy with what she saw.

Deep down, she had always believed she wasn't the sort of woman who could stand beside a world-famous athlete and seem like a natural fit.

Those roles seemed reserved for glamorous models, celebrated actresses, famous singers, or wealthy socialites. At minimum, they were often lifelong sweethearts whose relationships felt destined from the start.

She didn't fit into any of those categories. At five foot five, she had never looked particularly tall beside the men she had dated, especially those who towered over her.

Even before her breakup with Brody, she had never considered herself striking. Her appeal lay in a gentle, approachable charm rather than breathtaking beauty. That sort of look carried little weight.

The women who stood out had sharp bone structure, prominent cheekbones, and the kind of features you couldn't look away from. Compared to that, her softer appearance felt ordinary and forgettable. No match for the sculpted faces and commanding presence that seemed made for cameras and magazine covers.

And now things were even worse. She was thirty-five pounds heavier than she had once been.

The reflection staring back at her appeared swollen and tired. Her once-familiar features were blurred beneath the extra weight. Looking at herself for too long filled her with discomfort and self-loathing.