The final was over.The trophy lifted.The stadiums silent.
And for the first time in months…
Mateo González had nowhere to be.
Days of Quiet
Germany's team had flown home.Kompany had offered to bring Mateo back in a medical plane.But Mateo asked for time.
"Just a few more days here," he told the staff."To breathe."
And so, with Klara at his side, he stayed in Chile.
The doctors approved.
He was beginning the first step of his recovery—walking slowly, carefully, on crutches, his foot tightly casted.
It wasn't glamorous.
No spotlight.No stadium.No roars.
Only small steps,each one heavier than it should have been.
Peace in Santiago
The capital city was different now.
No more fan mobs.No flashing cameras.
Mateo and Klara moved through neighborhoods at their own rhythm—coffee shops tucked into colonial streets,museums filled with light,parks where the winter breeze carried peace instead of pressure.
Klara took photos of him—grinning awkwardly beside a mural,resting under a palm tree,clutching an ice cream while balancing on one crutch.
He hadn't smiled like this since…before the tournament.
The Call
It was during a quiet lunch in Barrio Lastarria,Mateo's phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
He hesitated.
Then answered.
"¿Aló?"
A raspy voice, warm and confident, answered in perfect Chilean Spanish:
"Hola mi hermano, supe que estabas aún acá en Chile…y quiero invitarte a acompañarme un rato.
Soy Arturo Vidal."
Mateo froze.
The name hit like thunder.
Arturo Vidal.La Leyenda.One of Chile's greatest midfielders.A warrior of Juventus. Bayern Munich. Barcelona. Inter.Champion across Europe.
Mateo's eyes widened.
"¿Vidal… en serio?"
Arturo laughed.
"En serio, hermano.Vi todo el mundial.Eres un monstruo.
Estoy en Santiago esta semana.¿Te animas a juntarte?"
Mateo nodded instinctively, forgetting he was on the phone.
"S-sí… claro. Sería un honor."
After the Call
He hung up.
Klara looked up, curious.
"Who was it?"
Mateo looked at her like he'd just seen a ghost and a god at once.
"Arturo Vidal."
Her eyes widened. "The Arturo Vidal?"
He nodded slowly, a half-smile forming.
"He wants to meet."
And for the first time since the cast,since the stretcher,since the tears—
Mateo didn't feel like he'd lost something.
He felt like the world…was just beginning to open.