Elena comes into the room and sighs heavily. I know why and I don’t care. I continue to stare out the window at the blue sky. Elena and I met in college. I was on a full scholarship at the University of Alabama, playing wide receiver, and she worked for my favorite clothing store. I wish I could say it was love at first sight, but it was fear that brought us together. I had been in her store when a tornado warning sounded. Everyone in the store took shelter, except Elena. She stood in the middle of the room with nothing but sheer panic on her face. Her co-workers tried to coax her into the back room, but she was frozen. I went to her, scooped her up, and carried her to the back. She clung to me until the warning was over. The entire time I just talked to her about my life, football, my hopes, and dreams. She told me she moved to Alabama to go to school, but her financial aid fell through, and she was too embarrassed to go home and ask her parents for money. They didn’t want her moving south to begin with, and told her she was making a mistake. She needed to prove them wrong.
After that day, we started hanging out. She’d come to the dorm, help me with my homework, and I’d invite her to games. Our friendship turned romantic a few months later, and after a couple of years of dating, I asked her to marry me. I thought I had found my soulmate. It turns out I was just her meal ticket to stardom.
It’s funny when you’re in a life and death situation. You say a lot of things to the people around you. For me, I’ve always dreamed of playing professional football. I worked my ass off in college to achieve my dream. Elena’s dream was to work in marketing or advertising. That was until we started dating seriously, and her social media skyrocketed. Then, her dream was to become an influencer and eventually a model. I supported each change in her career wholeheartedly because I wanted her to be happy, and I was in love with her. I thought she was in love with me. She told me we had to have a house in Orange County even though we lived in Portland, Oregon. At first, I didn’t understand why but still gave her what she wanted. Everything became clear when some reality TV show about wives announced she was joining the cast. The show was a hit. Her fame grew. And suddenly, she wanted to be an actress. By now, through all of this, we have two children and are splitting our time between Portland, Huntington Beach, her parents in Delaware, and mine in Michigan. An endless cycle of traveling. I tried to talk to her about it. I tried telling her something had to give. At first, she was defensive, telling me I was trying to stifle her creativity. Then she said if I really loved her and the kids, I’d ask for a trade to one of the teams in California. When I told her no, she uttered the word I never thought I’d hear—divorce.
My world was rocked.
When all of this happened, Elena and my kids were my world, and I couldn’t imagine my life without them. I spoke to my agent, asked what I could do to move to California, and thought about how I’d have to approach my career—that was until I found out she had an affair.
While I was busting my ass on the field, providing the lifestyle she wanted, she thought it would be smart to sleep with her co-star from her theatrical debut. She forgot about the prenup she signed, and now I’m the bad guy.
Now, here I sit, in the house we bought together, the place we planned to raise our children, at a standstill. I want the kids to live with me in Portland, and she wants them to live here with her. My argument is that our oldest, Reggie, is already in school. He has friends and plays Pee-Wee football. Roxy, our youngest, is only three. She doesn’t grasp everything that’s going on and knows Mommy and Daddy sometimes work away from the house. But most often, I’m gone for a couple of days when we have an away game.
“Julius, we need to make a decision,” her voice is like nails on a chalkboard. I used to love listening to her talk, but now, I never want to hear it.
“I’ve told you my stance, Elena. It doesn’t make sense to pull Reggie out of school to move down here. Plus, this puts unnecessary travel on me when I want to see my kids.”
“Well, I can say the same thing,” she fires back. “I’d have to travel to Portland to see them.”