I wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to love him the way he deserved. I hoped it wasn’t too late, after leaving without an apology or a goodbye. I’d been afraid, but that was no excuse. I owed him an explanation.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome six-time Pro Bowler, Superbowl Champion, and recently confirmed ESPN announcer for Monday Night Football, the one, the only, Drew Montana,” the backstage announcer bellowed over the large studio speakers.
The audience rose to their feet and cheered when I entered the stage. I jogged toward Erik and sat next to him. It wasn’t the reaction I’d expected from the crowd. I’d read countless articles and social media posts eviscerating my professional reputation. I thought I’d be booed.
“So, Drew…what do you have to say to that?” Julie Lee, the host, asked after I sat beside Erik when the ovation quieted down.
“I’m humbled, Julie.” I placed my hand over my chest to show my gratitude. “Touched, actually.”
“They love you, Drew,” she said, glancing at her notecards. “You could set a record tonight,” she added.
“Honestly, Julie, I’m not sure that matters anymore,” I said.
The audience groaned and looked at each other like they’d been deceived. “What’s going on?” one of the other contestants asked his guide.
“How about you, Erik? What does winning this show mean to you?” she asked, blowing right past my statement. What the fuck?
“Unlike Mr. Montana, I hope we win,” Erik said, avoiding my stare. Our knees touched, but it felt like we were miles apart. “He has a huge new contract with ESPN. That’s gotta be something. Winning this show is small potatoes for him.”
“That’s not correct, Julie,” I interrupted, snapping my head to look at Erik before returning my attention to her. Cameras from all angles focused their lenses on me, zooming in tight. My pulse quickened. I struggled to catch my breath. This is it. I can do this.
“Tell us why Erik is incorrect then, Drew,” Julie urged. “Tell the millions of fans who have supported you, voted for you, admired you, why it doesn’t matter if you win this show.”
The audience hushed and the other teams on stage stared in bewilderment that I, Drew Montana, would accept losing anything. “The reason is easy to explain, Julie,” I said, looking out over the crowd, into the cameras again, then back to Erik. “Look at me. Please,” I whispered, holding my breath until his eyes found mine. The same brown eyes I’d fallen in love with. “If I don’t win your love, the results of the voting and winning the show are meaningless. Nothing else matters but you, Erik.”
Julie gasped. The audience rumbled. I scanned the stage, and just like Erik, the other teams were left speechless. The show’s producer spun his hands in a circle to wake Julie the fuck up and to get her to jump on my declaration while they had me under the show’s bright stage lights.
Finally, she recovered her composure. “So.” She cleared her throat. “What you’re saying is that what we watched during the season between Erik and you was real?” she asked. “They weren’t stunts to get America to vote for you?”
“They’re all true, Julie. I love this man with all my heart.”
“Erik?” Julie asked. “What do you say?”
Erik was frozen in his seat. The entire studio was blanketed by an eerie silence, waiting for his response.
“Erik?” Julie urged. “The audience is waiting.”
“You left without saying goodbye,” Erik said. “So you just had a change of heart all of a sudden?”
“You don’t believe him, Erik?” Julie asked.
“How could I?” Erik answered. “My phone wasn’t ringing once I got home. I haven’t heard a peep out of him for three weeks, Julie,” he added. “And let’s set the record straight here. Mr. Montana flew off in a helicopter on the last day of filming.” He turned to the studio audience. “I thought I was dying. You all saw it, right?” he asked them.
They groaned their displeasure toward me, hissing and booing. Erik was angry, probably hurt, and I couldn’t blame him.
I needed to try harder. “They’re right to boo me,” I explained. “Go ahead,” I added. “I’m embarrassed by my behavior, Julie, but I’ve never been in love before. These may sound like a bunch of ridiculous excuses, but I had never seen a man in the way that I see Erik,” I admitted. “I love you, Erik. Please believe me.”
Erik’s eyes softened, tears threatening to fall.
The crowd stood in unison, roaring their approval.
Julie raised her hand and urged the audience to simmer down. “Erik?” she began. “Drew Montana has just professed his love for you on national television, and in front of millions of viewers?”
“I love you, Erik.”
“Honest? You really do?” he whispered.
“I do, and I’m sorry it took me this long to come to my senses,” I said. “I want to be with you, Erik.”
