“Can we afford an executive box?” Sophia asked. “This all seems rather extravagant, given our financial situation now.”

“Our financial situation has changed,” I replied, “but I’ll tell you about that later. We’re not paying for anything today. It’s all free hospitality.”

“Why are people paying for us to come to watch a rugby match?”

“Stop complaining, Sophia,” Ellie huffed. “We get to spend the day admiring big, muscular men in tight shorts. I’d have paid a lot of money to be here.”

“Yeah,” Dani agreed. “This isn’t cricket, after all. Now that, you’d have to pay me for.”

By the end of the day, I’d likely regret inviting Ellie and Dani along with us, but Sophia always seemed happier when they were around, and I’d do anything to keep a smile on her face. The girls kept her grounded, and helped her forget she was a celebrity of sorts, even with all the special treatment we were getting today.

“We still attract attention,” I explained. “The club looks good with us in the crowd, so it’s a win-win situation. Except for the fact that I have to watch a West London game.”

A security guard escorted us up to a corporate box just as the match was starting. Rugby was very much a secondary passion after football, but I did have a weakness for Harlequins, who just happened to be rivals with West London.

Once we all had drinks in hand, Ellie and Dani disappeared outside and took a seat in the stands—anything to get closer to the men, I suppose.

“We can go outside too, if you like,” I suggested.

“Let’s stay here for a bit. You can explain the rules to me, so I don’t sound like an ignorant American out in the crowd. Is there an offside rule in rugby like there is in soccer?”

“Sort of.”

“Shit. I hate that one.”

Sophia stripped off her coat and scarf, revealing her slender curves under a tight jumper. Maybe I should have arranged for a little more privacy. How long had it been since we’d had sex? I checked my watch: about three hours. I’d started cooking some lunch, which apparently Sophia found sexy as all hell, so we got down and dirty, while the eggs remained unwhisked and the toast burned.

“Are you nervous about being in the public eye again?” I asked. “I know it’s a big step coming out again like this.”

“We have to do it at some point,” Sophia replied. “Everyone must be so confused seeing us together after you publicly declared our divorce. You wouldn’t believe the conversation I had with my mom.”

“I overheard some of it. You were trying to explain why we were more in love than ever, but getting divorced anyway. I guess it does sound a little crazy.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

Sophia rubbed the spot on her ring finger where the engagement and wedding rings had both taken pride of place until a week ago. I’d suggested putting them in a drawer in case we ever needed them again, but Sophia had insisted on selling them. She’d been right; the rings made a small fortune in a charity auction. Far more than I paid for them in the first place. It seemed unusual that a metal band could increase in value just by spending time on Sophia’s finger, but then I decided that actually made perfect sense. Sophia improved anything she touched, and that included me.

“Is this a big game?” Sophia asked. “The crowd seems up for it.”

“There’s nothing special about the game,” I replied. “But one of the players, Oliver Cornish, is kind of a hero. This is his first game since almost single-handedly winning England the World Cup. Even the opposition fans respect him, and that’s saying something.”

I tried to watch the game from the comfort of our soft leather seats, but my eyes kept turning back to Sophia. She looked adorable as she tried to process what was happening on the pitch in front of her.

“Why aren’t they passing it forward?” Sophia asked. “There’s loads of space behind the opposition line. Someone could run through and pick up a pass.”

“You can’t pass it forward. It’s against the rules.”

“It’s against the rules to pass it forward?” Sophia asked incredulously.

“Yep.”

“Is that a rule in soccer as well, because it would explain a lot about why English sports are boring as hell.”

“I really need to take you to a football game. That’s a real sport, but rugby’s cool too. It’s like American football without the body armor. Ellie and Dani seem to like it.”

“We both know why they’re enjoying it.”

With impeccable timing, Ellie and Dani both wolf whistled as Oliver Cornish approached the line for a throw. I’d expected him to retire after the World Cup, but some players just had that natural hunger in them; a fire that wouldn’t go away. Oliver looked up for it today; I just wished he weren’t playing for West London.

A waitress came over and offered us another glass of wine, but Sophia and I both needed caffeine after a few too many last night. For me, that meant a cup of tea. For Sophia, it was coffee.

“It’ll be me serving the coffee again on Monday,” Sophia said, once she had her hands around a hot mug.

“You don’t have to go back to work.”

“I want to. Besides, we need the money. No more playboy lifestyle for you either.”

“I don’t want to be a playboy anymore. However—”

“However?” Sophia asked with raised eyebrows. “You’d better not be going back to sleeping around my college again.”

“I’m not sure there are many left,” I replied with a grin. “But that’s not what I meant. Remember I said our financial situation has changed?”

“Yeah. What did you mean by that?”

“I’m collecting the inheritance.”

“What? How?”

“I got that palace solicitor to look into the trust. Turns the trust has very specific language about me marrying a woman.”

“We knew that already.”

“The solicitor—being a typical smartarse—pointed out that if I were gay, the clause requiring me to marry a woman would be unconscionable.”

“Please God don’t tell me you're planning to fake a marriage to a guy this time?”

“I was a little worried that’s where the solicitor was going, but he said we could challenge the clause without me actually proving I’m gay. The trustee backed down instantly. No one wants to be the guy upholding a discriminatory clause, so he declared it invalid. The money’s mine.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Yeah. Still want to go back to serving coffee?”

“Maybe not.”

We sat there holding hands in silence, until Sophia finally decided she wanted to get out from behind the glass and watch the game with the fans.

“They’ll spot us in the crowd,” I warned. “It might take five minutes, but I guarantee you they will spot us.”

“So what if they do? My boobs are already on the internet for all to see. A bit of banter from the crowd shouldn’t be a huge problem.”

It didn’t take five minutes. The second we stepped outside, the fans nearby turned around to look at us and that reaction spread throughout the ground like a Mexican wave.

Then came the chanting.

“What are they singing?” Sophia asked.

I looked over at Ellie and Dani, who were both trying hard not to laugh. “They are imploring you to show your chest,” I replied tactfully.

“Get your tits out for the lads,” the crowd chanted. “Get your tits out, get your tits out, get your tits out for the lads.”

“Oh,” Sophia said. “I hear them now.”

“We can go back inside if you like?” I offered.

We both knew Sophia was going to be the subject of gossip and rude gestures for a while yet, but this was definitely a baptism of fire.

“No, it’s okay,” Sophia replied. “Could be worse.”

Ellie and Dani leaned over to offer their support and the girls all started laughing and joking. Perhaps it had been a good idea to bring them along. The three of them stood up in unison, in the way women did when they all planned to go to the toilet together.

I turned my legs to the side to let them past, but they didn’t move.

“On three,” Ellie said loudly. “One. Two. Three.”

The three of them—perfectly in sync—all lifted up their jumpers and bras, flashing their breasts to the crowd. I quickly looked away before I got accused of looking at more than just Sophia’s, but I was the only one in the ground who did.

Tens of thousands of men all wolf-whistled in unison as the girls waved their tits around for five seconds that seemed to last an eternity.

Eventually, they all sat down and carried on watching the game as if nothing had happened. I stared at Sophia, my eyebrows having taken up permanent residency at the top of my head.

“What?” she asked innocently. “It’s not like they haven’t seen mine before. And fuck it, they’re only boobs.”

“They’re not only boobs. They’re the best boobs I’ve ever had my hands on. Speaking of which, I know we promised to have dinner with the girls but do you think we could—”

“Take a detour via the hotel? Yeah, I think we could swing that. I like to work up an appetite before eating.”