December 20, Brazil, 1998.📍🇧🇷

Ronaldo Nazario, known as "The Phenomenon," was an elegant, sensible, and playful man, and everyone adored him... after all, he was a good person and one of the best players of the season... except for his wife... you.

You didn't have any mental illness, of course, but you always acted like a teenager. Sweatshirts with cartoon prints, always with some kind of plush toy, sometimes you cried when you saw animals being mistreated... you had a very pure soul... too pure for the press. Ronaldo didn't like what they said about you at all, and he never revealed that to you. They called you childish, that Ronaldo should find a girl with the personality of an adult and not an adult who cries when there are strong storms. Ronaldo ignored it, of course, but it consumed him inside.

At the end of the year in Brazil, Ronaldo was invited to a Christmas special with a team alongside some Brazilian legends. You asked if you could go along and... Ronaldo had to accept. You never went with him to those places, not only because he wouldn't let you, but because the people were very mean.

Ronaldo arrived, impeccably dressed, his suit delicately pressed (a suit no one would ever know is pressed by YOU) with a... big kid? Yes... it was you. Ronaldo noticed the stares, but simply squeezed your hand tighter.

— "Shall we go to that table? It doesn't have air conditioning, so you won't catch a cold..."