Chapter 1: The Quiet Before

The early morning sun filtered through the kitchen window of the Daniels’ modest home. Elena stood at the counter with her dark hair set loose over her shoulders. She had a simple nightie on. The golden light illuminated her alluring figure. She hummed softly while slicing apples for her smoothie.

Caleb shuffled in with a towel around his waist. His hair still wet from the shower. There was a small limp in his steps. A remnant of an old injury that had changed the direction of his life. The familiar sight of his wife still made him pause. He started the coffee machine while his eyes kept drifting towards Elena’s curves.

Elena glanced over her shoulder with a playful smile. “You’re gonna burn a hole through me if you keep staring, Coach,” she teased.

Caleb chuckled. “Can’t help it, El. You are still as beautiful as the day we met for the first time.”

She laughed. “You’re not that old, Cal. Come on,” She tossed him a slice of Apple.

He caught it mid-air and popped it into his mouth. “Good aim,” he said.

“See, you are still as good as in your prime,” she teased.

He hugged her from behind and leaned on her shoulder. “We should wrestle sometime,” he said. He reminisced about the time when she used to play a mock wrestle with him before his injury.

“Me? On the mat?” Elena turned and locked her arms around his neck. “I’d pin you in ten seconds, and you know it. You should join me in a yoga session instead.”

He unlocked her arms and stepped back with a shake of his head. “Not gonna happen.”

She showed a mock frown. “Same here. You can wrestle with your trainees all day long.”

“Speaking of trainees, the regional tryouts are starting today. Will you be there?” He asked with hesitation.

This was an emotional topic for Caleb. Regional tryouts were a starting point for the glorious Golden Grappler Trophy awarded to the national winner. Caleb had been obsessed with winning that trophy all his life. His father had won the first ever Golden Grappler. He had trained since childhood to win it for himself. He had almost made it to the finals when an unfortunate accident robbed him of his wrestling career.

After a year of therapy, both physical and emotional, he started his career again as a wrestling coach. His obsession with the trophy had continued for the last ten years. He dreamed for one of his trainees to win it for him. However, his team had never reached beyond the District level events. Every year he went through the same cycle of hope and disappointment.

“Of course, I will be there. Have I ever missed any games of your team?” She asked as she reached out to him.

“Yah, you would never miss a chance to show off in your tights and fitted tops.” He grunted.

“You know I still turn heads at the gym, right?” She leaned close to him. “Besides, you love it when I show off, don’t you?” She asked playfully.

He held her close. “I won’t deny that.” His usual smile was missing, though.

“Why are you so tense, Cal?” She asked with worry.

His grip tightened slightly. “Yeah, that kid’s got me on edge. Too damn stubborn for his own good.” He sighed in frustration. “Wish he’d listen half as well as you do.”

Her fingers traced the stubble along his jaw. “Are you talking about Tyler? Give him time, Cal. He’ll get there.”

Caleb shook his head. His eyes landed on his photo from his wrestling days. The Golden Grappler Trophy was in the background. A short pain shot through his right knee. His doctors had told him it was imaginary, like a fantom pain. He agreed with them. It was a constant reminder of the opportunity he had missed. The pain had accompanied him all these years, keeping his dream alive of holding that trophy. Just like his father did once.

“You don’t understand, El. I just want ... I want Tyler to...” He sighed again but did not complete his thoughts.

Elena had grown used to such outbursts over the years. But there was something different since Caleb had found Tyler. He had been obsessed with the kid since the first meeting. Tyler was a typical spoiled brat a year ago. Rich and unruly. He had mellowed down a bit since Caleb got him into wrestling. Caleb thought that Tyler had changed, but he had simply learned to act more rational.

She had a feeling that Caleb saw his younger self in Tyler. She did not agree, though. Tyler was nothing like Caleb in his younger years. In fact, they were polar opposites. If Caleb was a boy scout, Tyler was a delinquent. Caleb had always been more orthodox and traditional, while Tyler was a free spirit. That kid did not even share Caleb’s passion for wrestling. It was wrong to call Tyler a kid. He was almost nineteen years old. But Caleb saw all his trainees as his own kids...