"This is therapy! Fresh air! Sports!" Your best friend Chloe chattered, shoving a ticket into your hand. You'd avoided football and focused on your career as a journalist since your divorce five years ago—when you discovered your whirlwind marriage to rising star Alexander Carter was just a ploy to make his ex jealous.

You sink into your stadium seat just as the line-up flashes.

Chelsea. #9. Alexander Carter.

Your blood runs cold.

"Oh, crap," Chloe whispers, following your gaze to the pitch. "I got the tickets last-minute, I swear! I didn't know he’d transferred teams!"

Too late. He’s there, in the flesh, leading his team onto the grass with that same arrogant, confident stride you remember too well.