“It’s a crazy idea,” Ray said, but I could tell he was considering it.
“You’re always telling me I should take more risks,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, like trying sushi, not competing on national television.”
“Afraid I’ll show you up?” I challenged, falling back into our familiar pattern of gentle competition.
A slow smile spread across Ray’s face—the first genuine one I’d seen since discovering the affair. “Not a chance, babe.”
“So you’re in?”
He held my gaze, and I knew he understood the real question: Was he willing to fight for us? To put our broken relationship through the ultimate stress test?
“I’m in,” he said quietly. “All the way.”
Leo pumped his fist. “Awesome! I’ll start storyboarding the video tomorrow. We need to showcase your strengths as a team.”
As our son launched into an enthusiastic outline of how he’d shoot our audition, Ray reached across the couch and squeezed my hand briefly. I didn’t pull away.
It wasn’t forgiveness—not yet. But it was the first step on a journey that would either bring us back together or show us, once and for all, that it was time to go our separate ways.
I should have said no. Should have reminded him that we were still in couples therapy, still rebuilding the most basic levels of trust between us. That throwing ourselves into the pressure cooker of international travel and high-stakes competition was probably the worst idea possible.
Instead, I found myself nodding. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
“Really?” Ray looked as surprised as I felt.
“Really,” I confirmed.
Chapter 5
Loving Leo
Ray had always said that marriage was a team sport, but filling out theBig Raceonline application made me wonder if we’d been playing entirely different games.
“Relationship status?” I read aloud from the first question, fingers poised over the keyboard.
Ray leaned over my shoulder, chewing the end of a protein bar. “Just put ‘husbands.’ Or ‘married AF.’ That’s fun.”
“This isn’t Instagram, Ray. It’s an official application.”
He shrugged. “They want personality, right? That shows we’re relatable.”
I ignored him and typedLegally married for 15 years; together for 25.“Next: ‘What makes your team unique?’”
Ray grinned. “Gay dads. Middle-aged, but still fit. Former jock meets computer geek. Raised a great kid. That’s gotta be unique.”
“I can’t just write ‘gay dads with abs and anxiety,’ Ray.”
“Why not? It’s accurate.”
I opened a Google Doc to organize our answers. “We need to present a compelling narrative arc. Something emotional. They’re not just casting contestants—they’re casting characters.”
Ray gave me a look. “Jeff, it’s a reality show. NotMasterpiece Theatre.”
I forged ahead. “‘What is your greatest strength as a team?’”
Ray answered instantly. “We balance each other out. You’re brains, I’m brawn.”
