It’s funny how small the world seems once you travel outside of the bubble you once thought was the only place on earth.

Once my life officially fell apart, and I hit rock bottom, there was only one place to go, and it wasn’t up. It was Europe … with Eloise. I’d never traveled outside of the United States, and of the traveling I’d done within, most of what I’d seen had been the inside of airplanes and basketball arenas.

I used to think that my world, the social clubs and VIP athlete treatment, was the biggest thing out there. In that world I’d been a king, and when you’re a big fish in a little pond, you tend not to look for adventure or validation anywhere else.

So, moving to Paris was humbling on so many levels. The world opened up for me, revealing all of the beautiful sights and unknown experiences that I hadn’t even known I was missing out on. I met new kinds of people, learned different customs and languages, became a face in the sea of faces. No one knew who Colton Reiter was here, no one had expectations or wanted anything from me. It was freeing, in a sense, to become a small fish.

It was also humbling to become the low man on the totem pole when it came to basketball.

“What’s up, rook?” Vladamir Hugo holds up his hand for a high-five as I walk past him into the gym.

“Not a rook anymore, you big Russian.” I smile good-naturedly and pick up a ball.

“When you’ve been here as long as I have, and won as many championships as I have, you’re still a rookie until you’ve gotten your … let’s say third ring.” He goes to the free throw line and begins warmups.

“Well, then, I’m one third there.” I join him as the rest of our team hits the court, ready for practice.

Last season, my Parisian basketball team had won the European Basketball League championship. And I had seen a side to the sport that I didn’t even know existed. Of course every player knew about the European league, but what people didn’t assume was just how insanely good these guys were. Most of them were better than NBA players, but chose to stay here because there was less bullshit. Here, it was all about the sport. And there were no superstars, not to these seasoned veterans. You came, you put in the work, you played as a team, and you won as a unit.

They’d taught me so much more about my sport in one year than I’d learned in my entire lifetime. Each guy had something to show me about his culture too; Vlad made me borscht, Samir had taken me and a couple of the other guys to his favorite golf course on the outskirts of Paris, Henrik had invited us two months ago to his summer house in Sweden. My world had been completely blown open, and while my life had fallen apart, if had been built up twice as strong.

“Let’s go to Bon Amor after this.” Micah, our shooting guard, dribbles past me.

“You can’t eat for free at my girlfriend’s restaurant every night.” I laugh.

“Who said for free? You’re paying.” Samir chuckles, fist-bumping Micah.

At least once a week, me and the guys went to the restaurant where Eloise worked late into the night. It was one of the most expensive, and delicious, restaurants in the city … and it allowed me to stare at my girlfriend through the open concept kitchen as she worked.

Was it crazy that I found her even hotter when she was running around the kitchen, her eyes so focused and cheeks pink with exertion? I’d never seen her in her element fully until I moved here, and now I wanted to sit at a table in the corner of Bon Amor every night just to watch her.

I might have fallen in love with Eloise because of her spunk, her need to challenge me and keep me on my toes, that beautiful face and body, and the overall meshing of her personality with mine. Those were all of the things that attracted me to her from day one when she stepped foot on campus at Jade Mountain.

But what kept us together, and what made me fall just a little bit further each day, was when she proved just how loyal, compassionate, understanding and solid she could be. Standing by me through the Mac scandal, supporting me in West Virginia with my mother … I’d never really had anyone who would be … well, it’s corny, but ride or die.

I’d never envisioned myself being wifed up, living with a girl and spending my nights cooking and watching Netflix shows and getting in bed early so that we could talk and flirt in the dark.

It was safe to say, that over the past year, I’d reinvented myself into a stronger, more caring, more open person. Sure, I kept up on which one of my old teammates was drafted and where they were now playing. And yes, I had regrets. I still had a tiny flicker of hope in my chest that I’d make it into the most famous league in the world; I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.

“Reiter, Coach wants to see you in his office.”

I stop what I’m doing, and automatically, a cold trickle of sweat moves down my spine. The last time I had to walk into a Coach’s office and have a private discussion, my entire world was torn to shreds. But no one else seems to think anything of it, the guys continuing on with their drills and jokes.

When I walk into Coach Schmidt’s office, the large German man is at his computer, a lemonade half drank on the corner of his desk. Schmidt is a good coach, knowledgeable, but a little aloof. He doesn’t connect with the players as much, but then again, this isn’t college. He isn’t supposed to be molding us into good men, he’s supposed to be winning championships for the organization.

“Coach, you needed to see me?” I stand at the door.

His accent is thick as he waves me in. “Yes, yes, Reiter … sit down.”

I do as he says, and fold my hands in my lap.

“You have been good player, we value you. But, I’m afraid your time here with us is ending.” He’s blunt and his expression doesn’t change in even the minutest of ways.

My stomach bottoms out, and that clawing emotion of desperation works its way up my throat. “I’m sorry … you’re letting me go?”

Technically, my contract was up after last season and I’m still in talks. I thought it looked good; I’d get a nice pay increase, I’d get to keep playing with a team I admired. But apparently, I’d read the signs totally wrong.

“Not letting you go, not at all. I’m sorry to have to see you go. But, when a team in the NBA wants to sign you, I think I know what your answer will be. So, like I said, your time with us is ending.”

Did he just say NBA? “Wait … what?”

Finally, the normally stoic coach cracks a small smile. “The New York Cougars want you, Reiter. They saw what you did last season, and it’s outweighed any scandal that is now yesterday’s news. They want you to play in the NBA, starting for them this season. You need to be on a plane on Friday.”

My mind whirls; with the news, with excitement, with terror that I won’t live up to the hype. This is all I’ve ever dreamed of, and now that it was here, I was letting hope fill my chest like it was a ten-gallon jug. My entire world was about to change once again, but this time I was prepared for it.

But in that moment, I realized my life kept doing one eighties, with one constant grounding me. Because the only thing I wanted to do was go home and celebrate with the most amazing girl I’d ever met. Who just happened to agree to be mine.