TRAVIS

Seeing Eli walk on the field to a roar of adoring fans is more emotional than I expected. I’d always dreamed of taking him out there at the end of a game or when we won the Super Bowl. I think it’s something every player wants to share with their kids.

Eli shows no fear or trepidation, smiling and waving as he holds my hand and makes his way to the center of the field. Tugging on my jacket, he pulls me down to whisper in my ear, “Daddy, this is fun. I wike it! Can we pway, too?”

“Not right now, champ. When we get home, we’ll play.” It’s all the encouragement he needs—he skips off to get his shirt with my name and number emblazoned on the back. Pride wells up inside me as I watch him accept this honor. He holds it up to show me with a huge smile on his tiny little face.

“Daddy. Wook at this! It’s just my size. We can be twins.” Running straight at me, I scoop him up and into my arms.

“Good job, champ. You did so great. Daddy is so proud of you.” He snuggles into my chest suddenly shy of the crowd. Eighty thousand people are cheering for him, and I can’t help thinking it’s only a fraction of what he deserves.

They beckon me to the microphone before presenting me with a framed jersey and Angela’s memorial plaque. For the first time in forever, nerves pool in the pit of my stomach. I used to thrive on the energy in the stadium but being out there with the team is a different kind of beast.

“Hey, everyone. Thank you for such a warm welcome and for giving Elijah such a great reception today. The Rams have remained in my heart, even after my sudden exit from the game four years ago. It’s truly an honor to be here today, and I know Angela would be touched at having this memorial plaque in the stadium. She loved this place.”

As I say the words, a flash of Juliet’s face during the press conference comes to the forefront of my mind. I hate what she’s done to Eli and me. I came back for her, but she’s forced my hand, and I’m not a man who enjoys being forced to do anything.

The look in her eyes…

I could see the devastation, pain, and regret. Today is the first time we’ve been in the same room since the night I found out about the article. Like an idiot, I chased her back here to the one place I said I’d never return. And yet, as I stand here in front of all these people, I have an unsettling wave of gratitude. If she hadn’t betrayed me, Eli wouldn’t have gotten this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I wouldn’t have had the chance to see how much my Angel and I mean to the team… and the fans.

I’m both humbled and overwhelmed as everyone stands to commemorate the retiring of my number. In college, I dreamed of becoming a legend—of being so influential to a team that I became irreplaceable. This is as close as any player could hope for. I take a moment to remember the sights and sounds. It’s a far cry from Bear Paw.

I once felt so at ease in this stadium. It was my home away from home. One of my earliest memories was out on the football field. Now, I feel out of place—like this was another life—one I don’t fit into anymore.

When the music starts to play heralding the end of halftime, I’m quick to usher Eli to the tunnel. As amazing as today has been, for every high, there has been a crushing low.

Seeing Jules was a hit I wasn’t expecting to take. I’d geared myself up for questions about her. They’ve been relentless since that night outside her apartment a few weeks ago. Seems like an eternity since she was nestled tight in my arms, sated, and full of possibilities. I’ve seen that snapshot of her in nothing but a sheet on every blog, tweet, and front page—simultaneously making me angry, horny, and protective.

Why does she torment my every waking moment? I want her so bad it hurts, but she broke my trust. Can a relationship be built on such a rocky foundation? Everything I said and did—she used it against me for her own gain. I don’t want to love someone who can treat me like this.

I want to leave before Eli’s safety is compromised. He’s not used to being around this many people or this much attention. Hopefully, I can get us out of here with minimal camera flashes.

Fresh air is a myth in the city. People step outside and take a deep breath, filling their lungs with fresh air, but it’s an illusion. As I take in the sky above us contemplating where we go from here, a familiar voice startles me.

“Please, give me a chance to talk to you, Travis.” Eli stares up with the same doe-eyed look I imagine I had before the article was released.

“Hewwo. I’m Ewijah. What’s your name?” He holds out his hand like a proper little gentleman and smiles as Jules reciprocates.

“My name is Juliet. I’m a friend of your daddy.”

“You’re pwetty.”

“Why, thank you, Elijah.” She drops to his level while staring up at me from beneath long, luscious lashes. “You were very brave today.”

“Reawwy?”

“Really.” She straightens his shirt with a maternal tenderness. “I bet your daddy is so proud of you. Going out in front of all those people and having them all clapping just for you. You were such a big boy.”

“They had a cewemony for my mommy, too.” A knife twists in my chest at his words. I look to Jules and watch as her eyes fill with tears. Anger wells inside me. How dare she cry for my wife or Eli. We wouldn’t be living this all over again if it wasn’t for her.

Elijah, always the stronger one, reaches out his hand to wipe away her tears.

“Don’t cwy. She’s in heaven. Daddy says she’s an angel with pwetty wings.” A lump forms in my throat crushing me from the inside out. I scoop him up with one arm, holding my jersey in the other.

“She sure is, champ. Say goodbye to Miss Abrams. It’s time to go home.”

“Will the camewa people still be there? I don’t wike them. You don’t wet me pway outside.” I can’t even look at him. Heading for the parking lot, I leave Jules on her knees unable to voice the thunderous storm raging inside me. Within seconds, she’s alongside us with tears streaming down her face.

“Please. I’m begging you, Travis. Talk to me. Let me explain what happened. I’m so sorry I put you both in this position.”

“Too little, too late.” I lower my voice so as not to upset Eli. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to my life? To his life?” I can’t stop. I need to keep moving toward the car. If I don’t, I have no idea what I’ll say or do.

“I was wrong. I thought if you came back… then we could…” Her fingers brush against my arm, and I hate how it quickens my pulse. After everything she’s done, I can’t believe the words coming out of her mouth.

“There’s no ‘we.’ You betrayed my trust. If you knew who I was, why didn’t you say something?” She hesitates as I open the car door and buckle Eli in the back seat, but the moment I close the door, she finds her voice.

“I could ask you the same question. You asked me to leave my life and my career to stay with you in the middle of nowhere, and yet you didn’t think I had a right to know who you are.”

“I don’t tell anyone!” I run my fingers through my hair—a stark reminder of how things have changed. Juliet’s gaze follows my every move. As if lost in a trance, she speaks without thinking.

“You cut your hair.”

“Well, I’m not in the mountains anymore, am I? Here… I’m Travis Thorburn. People don’t want to see a messed-up sasquatch. They want the happy football star.” She has the good sense to shy away from commenting further. “That man… the one you met… is gone.”

“Travis. If I could go back and do things differently, I would, but I can’t. If you had trusted what we had, I would never have written that article.”

“This is my fault? Is that what you tell yourself so you can look in the mirror? It’s laughable that you think I should’ve trusted you. Surely, you see the irony there, right?” I reach for the door handle intent on getting out of this situation before any reporters see us, but Jules steps in front of me.

“You can’t just leave in the middle of this.”

“I can, and I will. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you. Don’t you get it? I. Don’t. Want. You. You were right. You could’ve been anyone. A warm pussy when I needed it.” Her whole demeanor changes—all fight gone as her shoulders slump, and she steps aside. I leave her standing dumbstruck as I slam the door shut, slamming my hands against the wheel.

“Daddy, are you okay?” I hang my head, ashamed of myself for being so brutal and doing it in front of my son.

“I don’t want to love her.” I look back at him, his sweet innocence shining through.

“Who? Mommy?”

“No, champ. I will always love your mommy.” His smile warms my heart, but as I turn to see Jules walking away distraught and alone, the familiar ache of loss wraps me in its cruel embrace. I pull Eli’s favorite blankie over him. “Time to close your eyes, little man. It’s been a long day. We’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.” I start the engine and pull out of the parking lot with the faint roar of the crowd echoing from the stadium—the ghost of a previous life. Silence descends as the minutes on the clock tick over, the gentle hum of the engine lulling Eli to sleep.

I moved us from Angela’s parents’ house back to my LA home about a week after we arrived. The reporters were relentless and keeping Eli there wasn’t doing anything to shield him from it. If anything, I just took the problem to their doorstep instead of my own. They don’t deserve to live through all this again. I left them with that responsibility once before, and they never held me accountable for any of it.

Eli seems to like it here. The house is full of pictures of his mommy and me over the years and adventures I haven’t told him about yet. He has his own room, but most nights he finds his way to mine. The cabin is his home—the place he feels safe in his own bed. This house is huge, and the long, dark hallways scare him.

As I drive up to the gates, a few photographers are still camped out opting to keep a vigil here rather than attempt to snap a shot at the game. They’ve become familiar—the same faces day in and day out. I drive through as they clamber to their feet, furiously snapping away until the gates close behind me, and the headlights fade through the tree-lined driveway.

Eli’s earlier declaration plays on my mind, Daddy, you never wet me pway outside. Why are we still here? I could have left the day after the article dropped. Gone back into hiding until it was safe to return to the cabin without being followed. But, I didn’t… and I’m not sure why.

There are so many things I miss about LA and an equal number I could live without for another four years. But, whatever my reasons are for being here right now, it’s not fair to deprive Eli. All he knows is the freedom to live outdoors and enjoy sleeping under the stars when the weather’s nice. Keeping him inside is selfish. I’m not going to put my needs ahead of his.

Tomorrow will be different.

“I have a surprise for you.” Eli is giddy when I get home from an interview. This morning, I called a local reporter I used to deal with when I was with the Rams. I wanted to set the record straight on a few things that got lost in the press conference yesterday. Juliet’s presence caused quite a stir, and I didn’t get the chance to say my piece. There has been so much speculation since I got back, and I just want it to stop.

With it over and done, I took a few hours to arrange a fun night for Eli and me. His pop-pop was here playing trains all day, but again, Eli was forced to stay inside. Tonight, that’s going to change.

“Tell me, tell me!”

“Go put your pajamas on and grab your blankie.” He’s off like a greyhound at the racetrack squealing with excitement as he disappears down the hall. It’s nice to see him so happy about spending time with me. I know this has been an adjustment for him. He’s used to unfettered access twenty-four seven. It would probably sound strange to most fathers, but I missed him in the few hours that I’ve had to be ‘Travis Thorburn.’

He returns five minutes later with his pajama top on backward, sucking his thumb with his blankie dragging behind.

“I’m weady, Daddy.”

“All right then! Can Daddy get changed real quick?” He stares at me with a disgruntled pout.

“Why didn’t you put your jammies on while I was? Now, I need to wait.”

“Sorry, champ. Two minutes. I promise.”

“Fine.” He grabs my hand and marches me to my room. “Huwwy, Daddy, huwwy!” He jumps up on my bed and wriggles the whole time. Just as eager for his surprise, I pick the first t-shirt and jeans I lay eyes on. I scoop him up into my arms and head for the door. The backyard may not be the hills of Bear Paw, but it’s large with some fun trees to play in.

“What do you think of camping out here tonight?”

“Weally?”

“Really! I was going to set up the tent, but you’re the best at it. Can you help me?”

“Yay!” He screams in my ear before struggling out of my arms and running down onto the grass—happy and carefree.

It takes twice as long to put up the tent with Eli’s ‘help,’ but it’s ten times the fun. He’s organized our sleeping bags side by side outside the tent. Defeats the purpose a little, but I can move him after he falls asleep. This far up the Hollywood Hills, the stars are visible at night away from the city lights.

“Did you bring marshmawwows?”

“Of course. It wouldn’t be camping without smores. Let’s get the firepit going.” He looks at me with a puzzled expression.

“Fiwepit? Why do we need a big hole?” I ruffle his hair, endeared by his childish wonder.

“You’re definitely not a city kid.” He puts his hands on his hips in a superhero stance.

“I’m a mountain man, Daddy.” The serious look on his face has me descending into a fit of laughter. He’s the cutest little guy. I can’t get over the fact that he’s part of me—the best part.

We enjoy hours playing, toasting marshmallows, and picking out the constellations above us. Eli plans out every detail for a treehouse in the far corner of the yard. A cabin away from home as he calls it. And, when it’s late, he snuggles in close to me staring up at the sky. Before drifting off into a peaceful sleep, he strokes his tiny hand over my clean-shaven jaw.

“I miss your beard. I wike when you’re mountain daddy.”

“Shall I grow it back?”

“Yes, pwease.” And just like that, he’s out for the count… and I’m left alone with my thoughts in this wide-open space.

Returning to the person I used to be has left me feeling less like myself than ever, and now I realize I don’t want to be the man I once was. My life has been irrevocably altered making me the man I am now.

I’m not a football star anymore… and I don’t want to be.