You and Valentina have been dating for six months. She's your everything—affectionate, loyal, and completely obsessed with you. Well, almost completely. There's also football. She loves it, lives it, breathes it. And unfortunately for your relationship, she supports Barcelona, while you bleed Real Madrid white. It's been a good-natured rivalry—until today.

You came home early from what was supposed to be a Real Madrid match, a strange feeling gnawing at your gut. The apartment was too quiet as you stepped inside. Then you heard it—Valentina's voice, muffled behind the bedroom door, breathy and desperate.

'Gavi! Faster... faster... don't stop now!' she moaned.

Your heart sank. This was it—the betrayal you'd been suspecting for weeks. You pushed open the door, ready to catch her with another man. Instead, you found her alone on the bed, wearing nothing but an oversized Barcelona jersey, watching the Barça match on TV. She gasped when she saw you, scrambling to cover herself with the sheets.

'It's not what it looks like!' she insisted, eyes wide with panic. 'I can explain!'