With all the drama unfolding, Tiger felt restless. Even after making his stance clear to Brendan Rodgers, a nagging sense of unease lingered. He wasn't usually one to make rash decisions, yet here he was, throwing down a bold challenge in the heat of the moment.
Did he do the right thing?
Normally, he'd be more calculated. But this was Liverpool. This was personal—not just for him, but for the legacy he was carrying. He couldn't afford to be seen as a pushover, not with the weight of Manchester United on his shoulders.
Still, doubt crept in. After a moment's hesitation, he pulled out his phone and dialed Victoria.
At home, Victoria was having dinner with David and Alexa when she saw his name flash on the screen. She quickly wiped her hands and answered.
"Hey, Tiger. Everything okay?"
He exhaled. "Yeah... just needed to talk."
She picked up on the rare vulnerability in his voice. "I'm listening."
Tiger recounted everything—Rodgers' provocation, his own impulsive challenge, the way the room had gone silent after his declaration.
Victoria stayed quiet, absorbing every word. When he finished, she finally spoke, her voice calm and sure.
"You did the right thing."
Tiger blinked. "Even though I was impulsive?"
"Especially because you were impulsive," she said with a small laugh. "Everyone sees you as a rookie, as Ferguson's stand-in. But if you want your own identity, you need to show them who you are. Sometimes, you have to scare the monkeys by showing them the chicken."
He chuckled at the old saying. "I suppose Rodgers is the unlucky chicken."
"Exactly."
Tiger let her words settle in, the weight on his chest easing. He had made the right call. His resolve hardened.
Then, another thought struck him—why had he called Victoria first? Why was it her voice he needed to hear?
His grip on the phone tightened slightly as realization dawned. It had been a long time since they'd had a moment like this. A real, honest conversation.
"Vic..." he started, his voice softer now. "I needed that. Thank you."
"Always," she murmured.
There was a brief pause before he added, almost hesitantly, "I know it's been a while, but... I love you, Vic. You know that, right?"
Her breath hitched slightly. It had been a while. More than a few months, at least.
A slow smile spread across her face. "Love you too. Waiting for you at home."
Tiger let out a content sigh. "I'll try to come early. You know I'm not interested in alcohol."
"Mm-hmm. We'll have a drink together when you get back."
He smiled. "Sounds perfect. For now, I'm just going to eat some of this fancy food here. You relax with the kids. I'll be home soon."
"Alright," she said warmly. "See you soon, love."
As the call ended, Tiger felt lighter. The noise of the party faded into the background, his doubts silenced. He knew exactly what he had to do.
And, more than anything, he knew who he was fighting for.
At Tiger's home, Victoria put the phone down, her fingers lingering over the screen as she replayed their conversation in her mind. It had been a long time since they'd spoken so openly, so honestly. A warmth spread through her—this call wasn't just about football; it was about them. And in that moment, she felt they had grown closer.
She glanced at the dining table, where David and Alexa were still finishing their dinner, oblivious to the quiet shift in her heart.
Ever since Tiger had taken over as Manchester United's manager, things had changed. Not just for him, but for their entire family. Their lives were no longer dictated by the rhythm of a single player's schedule. Now, he carried the weight of an entire club, its history, its expectations, its future. The pressure was immense, and Victoria had watched as he threw himself into the role, determined to prove himself.
She had seen the late nights poring over tactics, the distant look in his eyes when he was lost in thought about an upcoming fixture. She had felt the strain, too—the way their conversations had become shorter, their time together rarer. It wasn't just about football. It was about who he was becoming.
At first, she had worried. Would he lose himself in the job? Would the pressure erode the man she knew?
But tonight, something changed.
For the first time since he took the job, he had reached out—not as a manager, not as the man carrying Sir Alex Ferguson's legacy, but as her husband. He had opened up to her, and in that, she saw a glimpse of the Tiger she had fallen in love with.
A small smile touched her lips.
He wasn't just fighting for Manchester United.
He was fighting for them, too.