The Sport Shooter Missed His Shot, Now a Skater Holds My Heart

“You're seriously ditching Caleb... to manage a bunch of up-and-coming rookies instead?"

My friend—HR manager at a rival agency—stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

I kept my voice calm, detached. “I'm getting a divorce.”

Her eyes widened. “Divorce?  But you literally built Caleb’s career. He just won Olympic gold, for God’s sake. After all those years… he never fell for you? He’s the one who asked for the divorce?!”

No. I did.

Though, I’m not even sure Caleb realizes it yet.

Three days ago, I handed him the divorce papers. He barely glanced at them before signing—too busy nursing his precious protégé through a fever. The same girl he can’t seem to stop hovering over.

One week more and I’ll be free.

My friend stared at me like I’d grown two heads. She couldn’t wrap her head around why someone like me—so obviously in love with Caleb Murdaugh—would walk away.

She didn’t know the half of it.

She didn’t know that I was three months pregnant when I was kidnapped. That I was locked in a damp basement, dunked in freezing water for three days straight. My blood mixed with filth until I couldn’t tell one from the other.

And where was the man I’d loved for seven years—married for five?

Winning gold. Standing under a shower of confetti, arms wrapped around his sweet little protégé under the Olympic lights.

At first, I thought Caleb didn’t know. But then Lilith shattered that illusion with a sneer I’ll never forget.

“Oh, Caleb knew you were kidnapped. Lilith had told me, her voice syrupy and cruel. “But all I had to say was I had a headache… and he dropped everything to be with me. So? How’s it feel to lose a baby you were so desperate to keep?"

She’d smiled as she said it. Sent me a photo—one of those private shots. His chest bare, her skin marked with kisses, the bedsheets wrinkled from everything they’d done.

That was the moment I stopped lying to myself.

I was a fire trying to warm stone. Caleb would never melt for me. But for her? He already had.

So I let go.

Outside the café, his car pulled up. His car gleamed under the streetlamp.

I didn’t speak. Not right away. And my silence must have startled him because he asked out of the blue, “That document you had me sign a few days ago… What was that?”

——

I turned to look at him, the man I’d loved fiercely and quietly for so long.

“That was the di—”

“Caleb!” 

My words died, sharp and bitter in my throat.

His car’s Bluetooth had automatically picked up an incoming call. And her voice, unmistakably Lilith’s, spilled through the speakers like spiked honey.

“I drank too much… Can you come get me?” she purred.

Caleb’s brow furrowed. His voice tightened. “I’ll send my assistant.”

“I don’t want your assistant,” she whined. “I only want you.”

“Lilith,” he snapped, voice rising with rare frustration, “I’ve told you—I think of you as a sister. That’s never going to change. Don’t say things like that again.”

I knew that tone. He was performing for me. Trying to prove there was nothing between them.

But I didn’t lift my eyes.

“A sister?”

Her giggle was sharp as broken glass. “Do brothers and sisters sleep together now?”

“Enough!” Caleb barked, cutting her off just in time.

She just laughed. “Relax. Fine, if you won’t come… I’ll just find some other man to keep me company.”

“Lilith!”

The irritation on his face morphed into panic. The line went dead and suddenly he looked like he couldn’t breathe.

He turned to me, his expression pleading. “Babe… she’s drunk and alone. I can’t just leave her like that. I’ll go and be back right away. Okay?”

I smiled faintly, voice cool. “Go. I don’t want to get blamed if something happens to her.”

“I…” He faltered, guilt flashing across his face. “I’m sorry.”

He reached for my hand, but I pulled away. 

He turned the wheel, heading in the other direction.

When we stopped at a curb, I stepped out. Just before the door shut, I heard him on the phone again.

“Lilith… you never listen to me. What am I supposed to do with you, huh?”

There it was—tenderness. The kind I begged for, waited years for. Given so effortlessly to someone else.

***

I went home.

Pulled out my suitcase.

Five years of marriage fit into three boxes and a single zipped case.

I still remember the first time I saw Caleb on a shooting range. He was nobody—scrawny, his white shirt faded, straps frayed, but when he raised his rifle, he looked like a blade drawn in battle. Sharp. Focused. Radiant.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

He lost that match. I found him later, quietly falling apart behind the bleachers.

That night, I decided to become his agent. I found him sponsors. Bought his ammo. Nursed his torn-up hands from overtraining.

He once told me, “If it weren’t for you, I’d have been forgotten on that range forever.”

Two years later, we got married in a quiet civil ceremony.

He never said much. But that night, he held me in the dark and whispered, “I want you by my side. Forever.”

After the wedding, no matter how exhaushing his training day was he’d made time for me. Waited up when I worked late. Took me to the hospital when I got sick. Held my hand and said, “I’m here. Don’t be scared.” 

He never said much, but in those quiet gestures, I thought I saw love.

I thought that was all he could give.

Until Lilith showed me otherwise.

She threw tantrums—he caved. She got stomach cramps—he dropped his schedule to cook her porridge himself. Before her competitions, he’d take her to Disneyland, laughing with her on the carousel like they were the only two people in the world. 

He gave her the world, his whole heart. Reality slapped me hard as I realize that what I got was just crumbs of his love.

I thought he might change, especially when I got pregnant. But the Olympics proved me wrong.

While I was locked in a nightmare, tortured, bleeding, losing our child… 

He was in bed with Lilith.

Lilith sent me pictures. All of them unbearable.

I forced myself to forget. To stop picturing them.

Three more days, I reminded myself. Then it’s over.

I was snapping my suitcase shut when my phone rang.

“Hey, Sabrina. Caleb’s pretty wasted. You should come get him. If you don’t… well, who knows what’s gonna happen.”

Then I heard Lilith’s voice—half-sobbing, half-drunk.

“Caleb! Just tell me! Do you love me or not?!”

The line cut out.

A teammate texted me the location. I didn’t want to go. But technically, I was still his agent. I couldn’t let an Olympic gold medalist make a scene in public.

When I pushed open the door to the private lounge, the room fell silent.

No more laughter. No more clinking bottles. No more dares being shouted over the music.

I froze for half a second, taking it all in.

There, in the center of the room, Lilith leaned against Caleb’s arm, her lips pouting, voice sugar-sweet.

“I lost the game, but I want you to feed me a drink.”