Robert thought he had time.
He thought, somehow, despite everything — that he could talk his wife around. Guilt her. Threaten her. Buy her silence the way he always had.
But reality came crashing down harder than any punch.
It came in the form of a court summons delivered to the crumbling doorstep of the house he barely maintained anymore.
Petition for Divorce.
Filed. Finalized.
By the time Robert realized it, it was too late.
No pleading. No manipulating. No getting the meal ticket back.
Mikayla had moved on — for herself. For her kids.
With Sarah's help, she had found a fierce, relentless lawyer who made sure the paperwork sailed through. Robert lost the house, visitation rights severely limited, alimony payments stacking up fast.
He raged, screamed at the walls, threw furniture across the empty living room.
But no one listened anymore.
No one cared.
He was just noise in an empty house.
Meanwhile, Kai had returned to Atlanta to say goodbye to his friends and a few other people who wish him well. Now he was in Sarah's apartment packing the last of his things in Sarah's guest room.
His plane to Lisbon left in less than twelve hours.
His heart was heavy and light all at once.
Excited for the future. Mourning the past. Terrified of the unknown. Hungry for it too.
Madison helped him fold the last of his clothes into a sleek duffel bag.
"So," she said, sitting cross-legged on the bed, "off to Portugal, Mr. Superstar."
He chuckled, tossing a hoodie into the bag. "Yeah. Crazy, right?"
She didn't answer immediately.
When he glanced up, he saw the sadness in her eyes.
Neither of them wanted to say goodbye.
Not really.
"I'm proud of you, Kai," she said softly.
He sat beside her, shoulder brushing hers.
"I'm proud of you too, Mads."
They sat there for a long moment, the weight of everything unsaid pressing around them.
Finally, Madison took a deep breath.
"Let's make a deal," she said, offering her pinky.
He grinned, linking his finger with hers without hesitation.
"When we meet again," she said, voice trembling slightly, "when March comes around… if we still feel this…" she gestured between them "— we'll talk. About everything. About us. About the future."
Kai tightened his grip.
"Deal."
His voice was rough with emotion.
They leaned their foreheads together, breathing the same air, memorizing the moment.
Because they both knew the road ahead was long.
And nothing was promised.
But some promises didn't need guarantees.
They just needed belief.
While Kai prepared to fly to the Portuguese capital, Sarah was already setting foundations in the French capital.
She flew to Paris three days earlier, using her deep network of contacts to hunt down the perfect setup for Kai's family. Mikayla had wanted to go to Lisbon but Kai convinced her not to since this was only a six month gig, they will only be staying temporarily and that may disrupt the twins education.
Sarah worked hard and she finally found what she wanted. A modest but beautiful townhouse not far from PSG's training grounds — quiet, safe, close to schools and shops.
Paperwork, visa applications, moving logistics — Sarah handled it all with ruthless efficiency.
She wanted no distractions for her boy.
Kai had earned his shot.
Now he deserved to take it without looking back.
The flight from Atlanta to Lisbon felt endless.
Kai barely slept, nerves and excitement keeping him wired the whole way.
When he finally stepped off the plane, Sporting CP officials were waiting.
Warm greetings. Smiles. Cameras flashing.
He smiled for the photos, shook hands, answered questions in careful English.
But inside, his stomach twisted.
This was real now.
New city. New culture. New language.
No family.
No Madison.
Just him.
On his own.
Sporting's stadium, Estádio José Alvalade, was breathtaking in person — a sea of green and white, history dripping from every corner.
Kai toured the facilities, met the coaching staff, got fitted for training gear. The number jersey he wanted in PSG was available here. The number 17.
The manager, Mister Rui Borges, pulled him aside after lunch.
"Kai," he said in accented English, "we did not bring you here to sit. We brought you here to grow. To lead." What a thing to say to a seventeen year old, but Kai didn't shy away from it.
Kai nodded, jaw tight with determination.
"I'm ready," he said.
Borgas smiled. "Good. Because we believe in you."
Those words stayed with him the rest of the day.
He wasn't a passenger anymore.
He was a driver.
Of his own destiny.
That night, alone in a quiet Lisbon apartment Sarah's team had rented for him short-term, Kai sat by the window, looking out at the strange, beautiful city.
He pulled out his phone.
One unread text from Madison.
'I miss you already. Go kill it out there, Kai. March isn't far away.'
Kai smiled, typing back:
'Miss you too. March. I'll be ready.'
He set the phone down, leaned back, and closed his eyes.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Kai Alexander didn't dream about escape.
He dreamed about triumph.