Eli
After we wrapped up practice, Marina sat on the bench guzzling water like she’d just finished an Olympic marathon.
“You owe me dinner,” she panted, pulling her sweat-soaked ponytail to one side.
“I said a thank you, not dinner,” I grinned, tossing her a towel.
“Nope. You promised. I hit every one of those serves like a machine.”
“You mean the ones I had to dodge to survive?”
She smirked. “Get ready to pay up.”
“I’ll text you later,” I said, grabbing my bag. “I need to stop by my manager’s office real quick.”
“Try not to fight anyone,” she called as I walked off. “And don’t bring me sushi unless it’s wrapped in fries.”
Marcus was already pacing when I arrived.
“That’s never a good sign,” I said, dropping into the chair across from him.
He ignored the sarcasm. “Eli, I just got off the phone with someone from Keystone Sportswear. They want to sign you.”
My eyebrows shot up. “That’s… a huge deal.”
“They’re launching a ‘Fresh Start’ campaign. You’d be the poster boy. Big paycheck. Visibility. Global press tour.”
“And?”
He hesitated.
I sat forward. “And?”
“They want to bury the scandal.”
I blinked. “What?”
“They have PR partners. Media connections. If you sign with them, they’ll have your past wiped off every headline from the last five years. No more ‘match-fixing Eli.’ No more ‘bad boy of tennis.’ You’d get a clean slate.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Wow.”
Marcus looked relieved. “So you’re in?”
“No.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I’m not signing it.”
“Eli,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “this could change everything.”
“Exactly,” I said. “And I don’t want everything changed. Not like that.”
“Don’t be idealistic. You could be done with this scandal forever.”
“That scandal made me who I am.”
He stared at me.
I continued, “I screwed up. I lost everything. I clawed my way back. And now, I get to play again. I get to breathe again. I don’t want that part of my story erased. It’s mine.”
Marcus looked like he was about to argue but then just sighed.
“Alright,” he muttered. “I’ll let them know.”
Two hours later, I picked Marina up.
“Let me guess,” I said as soon as she slid into the car. “You didn’t pick a place yet.”
“Well, no not yet. But I do crave something.”
“Okay. What?”
She squinted at the road. “Wait. Give me a second.”
“That’s not how cravings work.”
“Eli, I have a system.”
“You’re making me hungry just talking. Pizza?”
“No.”
“Okay, pasta?”
“I had that two nights ago.”
“Sushi?”
“No way.”
“Then you pick.”
“I don’t know.”
“Nobu?”
She made a gagging noise. “I want to eat food, not sample it on a stone plate with smoke coming out.”
“I’m going to drive this car into the ocean.”
“I want McDonald’s.”
I blinked. “Now?”
“Yes. I want a Happy Meal.”
“Of all the choices—”
“I want the toy.”
I sighed, already turning toward the drive-thru. “You are the most confusing woman I’ve ever met.”
We sat in the parking lot, eating fries from the bag like teenagers. Marina dangled her Happy Meal toy in front of me. “It’s a dinosaur. I’m naming him Ace.”
“Of course you are.”
She leaned her head back against the seat, smiling. “This is nice.”
I nodded. “Simple.”
She looked over at me. “You okay? You’ve been quiet since practice.”
I took a breath. “Marcus offered me a deal today.”
Her brows lifted. “Good deal?”
“Huge. Keystone Sportswear.”
Her eyes widened. “You said yes?”
“I said no.”
She stared. “Wait, what?”
“They wanted to wipe my scandal clean. Full media erasure. No more headlines. No more history.”
“And you turned it down?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
I looked at her. “Because if I pretend it didn’t happen, then the lesson doesn’t mean anything. I hurt people. I hurt myself. But I grew. And I’d rather be known for surviving the fall than pretending it never happened.”
She was quiet for a moment. Then she whispered, “That’s… powerful.”
“I was thinking,” I continued, “instead of that paycheck, I want to start something. A fund. A scholarship. For kids who can’t afford to stay in the sport. Coaching, gear, travel—the stuff I had to hustle for.”
Her eyes softened. “Like the ones at the foundation.”
“Exactly. Give them a shot I almost didn’t get.”
She reached for my hand across the console. “You’re doing it.”
“What?”
“Becoming the man you always wanted to be.”
I looked down at our hands. And for the first time since everything fell apart—I felt whole.