Chapter 3: Santos, Part 2

I wake to sunlight in my eyes. That's weird. It never gets sunny on this side of the house early in the morning.

Peeling my eyes open more, I realize it has to be much later than I thought for the sun to be coming through the blinds like that.

It's eerily quiet in the house. I haven't heard Theo squeal yet and none of the girls have poked me in the nose or put barrettes in my hair. I think. A quick rub of my head confirms that. Exactly how drunk was I that I didn't hear them this morning? I should have known better than to take shots. It never ends well for me.

Rubbing my face, I take a deep breath and sit up. Where is my family? Did Mariana take them somewhere so I can sleep? That sounds like something she'd do. She's thoughtful like that.

Making my way to the fridge for some water to get rid of this cotton mouth, I stretch my arms out wide, cracking my back. The couch is comfortable, but nothing compares to my giant, king-sized bed. We dropped a pretty penny on that mattress last year, and it was worth it. I can't wait to snuggle up next to Mari in it tonight. I'm so glad we're off today so there won't be any team get-togethers. I've missed hanging out with my family.

After downing two bottles of water, I pad my way into the master bathroom to shower last night's filth off of me, only stopping to throw my clothes straight into the washer on the way. I don't want cigar smoke to mix with Mariana's clothes, even in the washer. She'd hate that.

Ten minutes later, I'm sufficiently clean and more awake. Now that I can think, I wonder where Mari took the kids. To lunch maybe? She did read about a new park in the area that supposedly has a fantastic petting zoo off to the side. She's been talking about us taking the kids one day. I bet they got restless and that's where they went.

Flinging open the door of the walk in closet, I turn on the light and rummage through my clothes, pulling on some sweats and an old Iguana's tshirt. I haven't played for them in years, but Mari always says it's part of my history, so we still have all the gear they gave us.

I turn around to walk out when something catches my eye. It's an empty spot where all her shoes go. She has about fifty pairs. At least ten of them are missing. Is she making a run to Goodwill or something?

As I turn in a circle, I take more stock of the giant closet. There are spaces on the clothing rod where her clothes are missing. Her entire underwear drawer is cleared out. The shelf that has all the files of important documentation like birth certificates and such is empty.

My heart begins to race. What the fuck is going on?

I race to the girls' room and pull open their dresser drawers. Empty.

The toy closet still has a few things left, but most of it is gone.

I run to Theo's room. Half expecting to see him curled up on his side, sucking his thumb, it jars me to see his crib empty.

As are his drawers.

And his closet.

No diapers. No wipes.

And his favorite stuffed animal, the monkey attached to a satin blanket that he rubs across his face as he's falling asleep… it's gone, too.

I run back out to the living room, panic setting in. The only thing I can think is that they must have been taken. Someone came in, packed their stuff, and kidnapped them. The alternative is just too hard to even process.

Grabbing my phone off the coffee table, I shoot off a quick text to my wife.

Where are you??? You're freaking me out! Please let me know you're okay.

Seconds later, her reply comes in.

We're fine. We're at my mom's. The note on the kitchen table explains it all.

Note? I think to myself. What note?

I speed to the kitchen and sure enough, there is a handwritten note sitting in the sunlight.

Santos,

I love you more than anything. But I'm done. I can't be in a marriage with an unfaithful man anymore.

My heart drops. She knows. How does she know?

The kids and I will be staying with my mom for a while. You, of course, are welcome to call or Facetime them whenever you want. Since you're in the middle of the season, we can work out a custody arrangement as we go.

Take care of yourself,

Mariana

There is no way this is happening. My wife did not just leave me. I immediately dial her number and pace back into the living room while I wait for her to pick up. I'm almost surprised when three rings later, she does.

"Hello?"

"What the hell is going on?" I roar into the phone.

"I think it's pretty clear what's going on," she retorts. "I'm filing for divorce on Monday."

"You..." I scoff. "You… you're filing for… but why?"

"Why?" she yells. "WHY? How about because I'm tired of being left at home while you go hang out with your teammates after games are over."

"Babe," I say calmly, trying to make her see reason. She understands the pressure I'm under to hang out with my team. "You know I get keyed up during the game. It's just a way to calm down the adrenaline."

"Really? You're trying to placate me with your condescending tone and excuses? You've been fucking groupie whores behind my back and all you can come up with is it's to calm down the adrenaline?"

I've never heard her this angry before. I do the only thing I can think of. I deny.

"What? I have not. Why would you even think that?"

"I talked to Tiffany last night, Santos." I stop breathing. "She told me everything."

I run my fingers through my hair and continue with my pacing. "Babe. She is a groupie. She will say anything to cause trouble. That's what they do, Mariana. You know better than to listen to a cleat chaser."

"She knows you hum, Santos."

My entire body stills. There is no way to come back from that. I know that. She knows that. I am so fucked.

"I love you, Santos. But I deserve better. I deserve a man who is going to be faithful and not give me excuses and lies. The girls deserve to see how a man should treat them. And Theo deserves to learn how to respect women and what it means to be a real husband. You aren't just failing me. You're failing all of us."

I wince, like I've been punched.

"My attorney is drawing up the papers on Monday. It's up to you if you want to contest the divorce or make it easy. It makes no difference to me."

I clear my throat. "Um… can I… when can I see the kids?"

"Don't you have a road trip this week."

"Yeah," I answer quietly.

"Text me when you get back. We'll figure something out."

I nod even though she can't see me. "Mari."

"Yes?"

"Mariana, I love you. So much. I'm so sorry."

She pauses momentarily. "That's not enough," she spits out angrily and hangs up.

I slowly crumble onto the couch and drop my phone on the ground. My mind is spinning.

She left me. She took my kids and she left me.

I had everything I ever wanted but just lost it all.

And it's all my own damn fault.