Page 16 of Pitch Prince

“That’s…great,” she finally managed.

“Want an extra hour on the Xbox?” I asked the kids. They both immediately forgot the exciting news I’d just told them and rushed off to the living room before I could change my mind. “Works every time,” I said to Sarah. “What’s up?”

“It just….everything is changing around us,” she said. “I’m constantly wondering where I’ll be soon and with you moving out, giving up the one thing in your life that’s lasted longer than our marriage…I just don’t know if I know you any more.”

I moved in immediately to give her a hug. It was natural, her resting her head on my chest as I pulled her in to reassure her. Easy as breathing.

But it wasn’t like the hug that had been replaying in my mind for weeks. The one where Rhys’ forehead rested on my shoulder, fitting perfectly between that and my neck like it was meant to be there. The smell of coconut shampoo in his warm blonde hair…

I stepped back from the hug with Sarah. It wasn’t fair to her to be thinking of someone else like this. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, we were married, and happily so.

“Are we going to rip the bandage off all at once?” I asked her. “I’ll put a notice out in the paper, we’ll call our lawyers, I’ll move out?”

I had bought the little flat near Murrayfield stadium with my life savings. With no mortgage on our house, Sarah and I had agreed I would give it to her entirely so the kids had a good place to call a family home. And the flat had three bedrooms so the kids would be able to come and stay with me however they liked.

Secretly though, I’d bought the flat because it reminded me of Rhys’ place in Cardiff. It was in a squat block of Edwardian buildings, not worlds away from the little place in the Victorian block that Rhys occupied.

“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?” Sarah asked.

“I think I have to be. Are you?”

I could see tears pricking at the corner of Sarah’s eyes but she gave a weak smile. “Of course. It’s only the end of my marriage.”

I could feel tears building up inside me too. “I really do love you,” I said.

“Just not how I always thought you did,” she replied.

“Right.”

“We talking to the kids?” she asked.

“Of course.”

“Come on then. Let’s do it together.”

Sarah took my hand and led me to the living room. Where I felt like I was about to break my children’s hearts.

***

As it turned out, children were a hell of a lot more resilient than I had ever given them credit for. After a couple of tears and Olivia turning a very clever stare on both of us accompanied by the words “Neither of you cheated, right?” they had taken it in their stride. Both excited to see the new place Daddy would be living in, and asking when they could decorate their new rooms.

I was in bed, scrolling through my phone some hours later. As had become a bit of a habit, I checked Rhys’ Instagram. He had posted pictures from his wildly successful Six Nations Tour. Wales had won against every team but England and won the tournament. I had texted himShame you can’t win everything,and he had just sent back laughing emojis.

His performances had caused the papers and sports TikTokers to pronounce himThe Welsh Prince of Rugby, and I’d sent him a couple of texts taking the piss out of his newfound fame. But he deserved the praise. His performance had been phenomenal. One day, he’d captain Wales. And I knew it.

Only once I had been bold enough to text him about anything actually directly related to my Instagram stalking. He had posted a gym selfie with Finn Roberts, Rhys looking much smaller and sleeker than the bigger, more brutish Finn but still muscular. Almost without thinking, I’d texted:

Callum: Nice gains! Looking great, man.

Rhys: Thanks - you should see how it all looks without the vest.

I had no idea if Rhys knew what he did to me, if he was deliberately pushing boundaries to see what I’d say. Either way, I felt guilty. I’d agreed not to…well,be gay, until I moved out. And I wasn’t. But I was toeing a very fine line with a man I knew deep down that I was attracted to. I couldn’t totally cover it up with laddish language or ‘just friends’ crap.

I had to get out of this house, out of rugby. Then…maybe then I could make a decision.

Because coming out still scared the crap out of me. I was the Gentleman of Rugby. I had a reputation and honour to uphold. And going out with Sarah, all those years of trying to figure myself out as we got married, had our kids, held each other and made love…to come out now almost felt like more of a failure than not coming out at all. Rhys was young, he had no responsibilities. I had mine. I had a responsibility to my wife and children to not be an embarrassment by making the last twelve years of my life look like a mistake.

I was pulled out of my daydreaming by my phone buzzing in my hand. There was no caller ID. Often, no caller ID meant a sports journalist had found my number. I picked up and put the phone to my ear with some hesitancy. “Hello?”

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