a choice you made ¡ jude bellingham
after discovering judeâs long-hidden affair, everything you built together shatters in one devastating night.
contains: angst [breakup, emotional manipulation, infidelity, intense argument, no happy ending]. one-shot. use of y/n.
word count: 3.5k
n/a: my first ever fic! let me know what you think. english isnât my first language, so please be kind and forgive any mistakes.
The insistent, repetitive sound of notifications broke the tense peace of the flat. It wasnât just an isolated alert, but Judeâs phone vibrating incessantly on the coffee table every few seconds, lighting up and going dark in a frantic rhythm which became impossible to ignore.
You were lying on the sofa, completely immersed in a book while waiting for Jude to finish his shower so you two could have dinner. Up until that moment, everything seemed to follow the tranquil routine you had built together over the years.
But the persistent buzzing eventually dragged your attention away from the page. It was strange, even unsettling. Jude had always kept his phone close by and on silent almost all the time, especially on his days off when he claimed he wanted to âdisconnect from the worldâ.
Driven by innocent curiosity and thinking it might be an emergency from the club, an update from his agent, or an urgent message from the manager, you slowly leaned over the sofa and picked up the device.
The moment your eyes landed on the display, the world around you seemed to slow down drastically.
A screen crowded with an endless stream of notification previews met your gaze, but what caught your attention were the most recent messages:
have you made it home yet?
still thinking about last night...
when are we going to see each other again?
Your fingers froze the instant they touched the device. The air fled your lungs all at once, as though an invisible hand had closed around your throat, while your heart lurched into a frantic rhythm, pounding against your ribs heavy, violent, loud enough to drown out every other sound in the room.
A few rapid blinks followed, driven by the desperate hope that there had been some mistake, that a perfectly reasonable explanation existed, or that some crucial piece of context lay hidden behind those few words.
With trembling hands and shallow breath, you typed in a six-digit passcode, that very date you two had started dating. Such cruel irony brought a bitter taste to your mouth... Jude had never even bothered to change those numbers, as if keeping a symbol of a ruined relationship was just another insignificant detail.
Upon opening the app, a cold deep crushing numbness washed over your body.
âScrolling through the chat, seconds were all it took to realise this was no recent contact. Not the result of an impulsive mistake, a drunken night out or a moment of weakness that could be easily explained away.
âIt was an extensive history, meticulously fed over months. Perhaps far longer than anyone could bear to imagine.
âExplicit photos filled the screen without a shred of shame. Messages heavy with intimacy bled into pet names, promises and plans for future meetings.
âSordid details laid bare nights spent in hotels across the exact same cities where Real Madrid had been playing. On the very dates he used to call, claiming he needed to âfocus on pre-match concentrationâ, that he was âexhausted from trainingâ, or that he couldnât manage a video call because he âsimply needed to restâ.
Every new message felt like opening another wound, each word cutting like a dull blade. Slow and relentless.
âNot a single tear fell. The shock was so devastating that it paralysed any emotional reaction as though your body had given up on feeling just to bear the weight of that discovery.
âYou remained motionless, staring at the blue light of the screen as years of loyalty, trust and sacrifice crumbled before your eyes, reduced to a string of messages exchanged between two people who acted as if you had never existed.
âWhat are you doing with my phone?â
Judeâs voice cut through the hallway, shattering the heavy silence of the living room like a command.
âHe appeared drying his damp hair with a towel draped over his shoulders, but stopped dead in his tracks the moment he spotted his phone in your hands. His face darkened instantly.
âThere wasnât a single trace of genuine surprise, let alone guilt. Rather, a dry, almost offensive irritation, as if the true outrage of the scene was that you had dared to touch his device.
Without asking again, he strode over to you in long steps. âHe didnât even wait for you to utter a single word. Bending over the sofa, he snatched the phone from your hand with a brusque movement, making your fingers scrape against the phone before letting go.
âHe locked the screen with a quick, automatic gesture, like someone accustomed to hiding what shouldnât be seen, and tossed the phone carelessly onto the cushions.
âHow many times have I told you not to go through my things?â He muttered through his teeth without raising his voice, but lacing every word with a cold, authoritative tone.
You remained sitting in the same position, eyes fixed on a spot on the floor, unable to react after the rough way he had yanked the device out of your hands.
âRaising your gaze, you slowly took in Judeâs broad shoulders, his rigid posture and the closed expression of someone you had shared the last few years of your life with. This was the person for whom you had moved across countries, left a life behind and learned to call home anywhere in the world.
Even so, the longer you stared, the less you could recognise him.
âWho is she, Jude?â Your voice came out low, barely audible, sustained only by the numbness of the shock. A simple question, carried by an almost desperate need for an answer that might disprove it all.
Jude ran a hand through his damp hair, glanced away towards the glass balcony for a moment and shook his head slowly, as though dealing with a problem far smaller than it actually was.
âWhen he looked back at you, impatience was etched into every feature of his face. His jaw set in a line that betrayed how annoyed he was at having to offer an explanation.
ââAre you seriously making a scene out of this now?â He scoffed, letting out a sharp breath. âLook, Iâve got training first thing tomorrow, the board are on my back about the fixtures, the press are everywhere... and youâre starting a row at this time of night?â
âYou held his gaze without moving.
âThe composure you maintained was no longer drawn from strength, but from pure shock, as if your body were still trying to catch up with how fast your entire life had collapsed in a matter of minutes.
âI... I read the messages, Jude. All of them...â You interrupted before he could deflect any further. Your voice was barely a whisper, trembling, unstable and fractured. âIâI didnât mean to, but... the notifications... they kept coming. And I saw... the hotel photos. I read the chats, months of... of texts you two exchanged and...â
You couldnât finish the sentence, a lump choking your throat as your voice began to crack. The silence that settled between you lasted only a few seconds, but felt endless.
âJude offered an unwavering stare as every trace of innocence vanished from his face. He let out a harsh sigh, visibly irritated at finding himself trapped. No shame, no remorse. Only the cold irritation of someone who despised losing control of the room.
Closing the distance with two slow steps, he stood over you once more, a hand resting on his hip.
ââWhat do you actually expect me to do now? Break down, deliver some speech, beg for forgiveness? Come on, Y/N, weâve been miserable for months, and you just chose to ignore it. Every single day, the exact same thing. The same routine, the constant nagging... did you honestly think I was going to live like this forever?â
The words pierced your chest, hurting far more than every text you had just read.
ââMiserable?â You repeated in a whisper, feeling the pain finally break through the shock that was keeping you upright. Tears welled in your eyes for the first time in utter disbelief. âWeâve been miserable?â
âYou stood up from the sofa with deliberate slowness and forced yourself to lock eyes with him, refusing to look away for even a fraction of a second.
âI built the ground beneath your feet, Jude!â you shouted, the words tearing through your throat as the pain finally burst. âFive years. Five whole years of putting myself last for you. When you were just a kid and no one gave a damn, who held you together when you wept and said you werenât good enough? I did! I threw away my own life, moved countries every time it suited you, and gave you everything.â
Jude just rolled his eyes and shook his head, clicking his tongue in irritation as if he couldnât stand listening to another word.
âStop talking like I owe you anythingâ He snapped as he stepped closer, closing the gap between you two. âI never asked you to do any of that. You did it because you wanted to, so donât try to make me feel like I owe you now.â
His cold gaze fixed you, voice grew louder with every word, his sharp gestures betraying months of bottled-up resentment as he tried to paint you as the one at fault.
âDo you really think I wanted this?â He said, his voice cutting through the room. âJust look at us! We stopped being a couple a long time ago. We were nothing more than two people sharing a house, going through the motions. Whatever we had... it died. The love, the closeness, all of it. And you kept clinging to what we used to be, pretending our history was enough to keep us alive. Well, it wasnât.â
He stared at you for a long moment before giving a slow shake of his head.
âI stopped missing you. Somewhere along the way, I stopped looking at you and seeing the woman I fell in love with. We just... became routine. We got comfortable, carried on because it was easier than admitting what was happening. I kept telling myself it was just a rough patch, that things would get better. But they didnât. The truth is... my feelings changed. And one day I realised they just werenât there anymore.â
Jude swallowed hard, his throat tightening before he looked at you again.
âLook, I never wanted to hurt you., but I couldnât keep pretending we were happy when we werenât. We hadnât been for months! I know I lied and Iâm not saying that was right, but this didnât start when I met her. It started long before that, when we stopped talking, stopped trying... and just carried on because neither of us wanted to admit it was over.â
You listened in silence, letting every word sink in. Hearing the man youâd given so much of yourself to speak so calmly about falling out of love with you felt like the final blow. The pain was still there enough to steal your breath, but for the first time it was accompanied by something else: Clarity. There was nothing left to fight for.
Nothing left to save.
For a long moment, all you could do was stare at him. You blinked slowly, forcing back the tears threatening to spill. It wasnât the confession that broke something inside you, but how easily he said it, as though the years youâd shared could be dismissed with a few sentences. In that moment, you realised the man standing in front of you was no longer the one youâd fallen in love with.
âYou really believe that, donât you?â You said quietly, never taking your eyes off him. âYouâve been standing there, trying to convince yourself that this is somehow my fault... because I loved you? Because I stood by you spent years trying to be the person you needed no matter what was happening in your life?â
Silence stretched between you. Jude drew a slow breath and rubbed the back of his neck before letting his hand fall. He just stood there, his expression guarded.
You took a deep breath before continuing.
âI spent years trying to be enough for you, Jude! Whenever you needed me, I was there. When you messed up your shoulder, I lived every second by your side! Every appointment, every bloody day of recovery, every time you spiralled thinking youâd never be the player you used to be. I learned to cook whatever your nutritionist wanted, I adapted to everything just to make your life easier! Somewhere along the line, I stopped asking myself what I wanted... because everything became about you!â
ââThe only thing I ever asked for... was loyalty.â A broken laugh slipped past your lips, heavy with defeat as tears tracked down your face to the neck. âThat was it, Jude. Just loyalty. And you couldnât even manage that.â
A sob escaped, taking the breath right out of your lungs. The hot tears finally spilled over and you had to pause, fighting through the lump in your throat just to get the words out.
A heavy silence fell over the living room, so thick it felt hard to breathe.
âDo you remember what you told me back then? You swore I was the only person who stayed by your side through every single storm. That I was your home.â Your voice cracked with the weight of memory. âAnd now you turn around and make the way I cared for you sound like a burden. How could you?â
You slowly shook your head, a bitter disappointment written across your face. You wiped the tears from your face and drew a deep, heavy breath, trying to regain whatever control you had left.
ââDonât twist this. That isnât a lack of love from me, Jude. Itâs pure cowardice from you.â
Judeâs lips pressed into a thin, tight line, yet he stayed silent.
âIf you wanted out, you had a fucking choice. You couldâve sat across from me like a grown-up and said, âI donât want this anymoreâ. Instead, you came home to me every night, climbed into our bed, let me keep planning our future, all while you were already off giving yourself to another woman. Thatâs absolutely fucking disgusting!â
Try as you might to maintain a firm posture throughout the argument, your body finally yielded to the weight of reality. Again, more tears streamed down, one after another, while your breath hitched in stifled sobs.
âCheating wasnât an accident. It wasnât a mistake or because of me. It was a fucking choice! A selfish, cowardly choice that you made, over and over again.â
Jude stared at you, the sharp edge in your voice cutting right through the walls he had built up all evening. Hearing his own actions laid out so plainly made him feel smaller than heâd ever felt. He wanted to blame you, to convince himself that heâd been trapped, but looking at your tear-streaked face, the lie fell apart in his mind. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to block out the truth, but he knew he had chosen the easy way out and nothing he could say now would ever repair the trust he had so carelessly shattered.
Tonight was supposed to be just another quiet evening. You were going to have dinner, watch a film before bed and the next day he would head back to training like so many times before.
Instead, everything you had built over the years ended right there inside that living room.
You brought your hands to your face, wiping away your tears again hastily, trying to prevent him from seeing any further trace of the damage he had caused. You took a few deep breaths, trying to control the tremor running through your entire body.
âI... I canât stay here.â Your voice came out low, broken.
Jude opened his eyes immediately.
âWhat?â
You didnât answer. You simply averted your gaze and walked toward the bedroom, leaving him standing in the middle of the room.
The moment you stepped inside, you pulled the door shut just enough to create a small barrier between you and entered the walk-in wardrobe. Your hands were shaking so much that you had to take a deep breath before you managed to pull a small suitcase from the bottom compartment of one of the wardrobes, and it hit the floor with a dull thud, echoing through the quiet bedroom. Right there, you unzipped it and began packing only the essentials.
Changes of clothes, documents, your phone charger⌠every item was folded in a hurry, but your movements betrayed how lost you felt. Sobs escaped your lips beyond your control, filling the room with a painful sound that carried down the hallway and reached the living room.
Jude remained motionless, listening to every single one of them, still trying to grasp how everything he had lived over the last five years was ending this way. How, in a matter of minutes, the relationship that once seemed unshakeable had spiraled completely out of control.
After a few seconds, he walked over to the bedroom.
He stood in the doorway of the walk-in wardrobe, watching you knelt before the suitcase, trying to do up the zip while your hands kept trembling. Your face was swollen from crying, and your hair fell messily over your face.
He took a deep breath before speaking. âDonât do this.â
You carried on packing the last few items without even raising your head.
âWeâll sort this out tomorrow. Youâre hot-headed right now, and so am I. Tomorrow weâll talk properly.â
âTomorrow?â Your voice sounded raspy when you finally looked up at him. There was as much exhaustion as there was disappointment in your eyes. âDo you honestly think thereâs any talking to be done tomorrow?â
Jude took a step into the bedroom. âThere is. You donât need to leave right now.â
You shook your head slowly and took another deep breath before answering.
âIâm leaving. I'm going back to England.â
His expression faltered for the very first time that night. You stand up from the floor and adjust the suitcase.
âI canât stay here any longer.â
He ran a hand over his face, visibly agitated.
âYouâre making a decision in the heat of the moment...â
âNo, Jude, please... just stop.â Your voice came out low but steady, your hand gripping the handle of the suitcase.âI canât even bear to look you in the eye.â
The words struck Jude differently from anything that had been said up to that point. His eyes, red and dull, fixed on the suitcase before rising slowly to your face.
âAre you really leaving right now?â His voice came out low, raspy, stripped of that harsh, authoritative edge.
You didnât answer right away, feeling a crushing weight in your chest, but without faltering. The pain was still there, raw and burning, but the decision had been made the moment you saw who he truly was.
Jude took a hesitant step, running a hand clumsily over his face. He suddenly looked smaller, as though the massive, luxurious flat had grown too big for him to inhabit alone.
âWe donât have to resolve everything tonight...â he muttered, again, staring at you with a mix of exhaustion and restrained desperation. âYou donât have to leave like this in the middle of the night. We could just... talk tomorrow with a clear head.â
You offered no response.
He swallowed hard, looking down at the floor. His face contorted for a second in an expression of genuine anguish. The weight of knowing he had destroyed the only real relationship he had, the only person who had loved him before the money, the and the fame... finally seemed to crash down upon his shoulders.
âI know what I did. What I said, butâŚâ he began, his voice wavering slightly, stopped mid-sentence and letting out a heavy, shaky sigh. He took another step, reaching out a hand as if to touch your arm, but hesitated halfway and pulled his fingers back upon seeing your distant gaze. â...I didnât want it to end like this.â He whispered, looking at you with glassy eyes.
âYou chose this the very first day you betrayed my trust, Jude.â You replied, holding the handle of the suitcase firmly. âThe only difference is that today, Iâm making your choice official.â
You pulled the suitcase close and walked toward the bedroom door. Jude stepped aside slowly, making way with his shoulders slumped as he watched your every move with a late, useless sorrow.
When you reached the living room, you didnât look back. With the suitcase in your hand, you walked down the hallway towards the lift, each step taking you further away from him.
Jude remained still for a few moments before finally making his way to the living room, just in time to see the front door close behind you. Standing motionless and silent in the doorway, he watched as you stepped into the lift and walked away, without looking back even once, leaving everything you had behind and walking out of his life.