CJ Stroud had always been a planner. From his early days as a quarterback, he was always two steps ahead, reading defenses and predicting plays before they unfolded. But when it came to his personal life, he struggled with the unknowns.
Sophia was one of the few constants in his life. They had met during his first year at Ohio State, both focused on their futures, both driven in their own right. Sophia wasn't interested in being swept up in the chaos of college football stardom; she was focused on her architecture degree, always sketching designs, creating blueprints, and dreaming of her future in a way CJ admired.
It wasn't until after the draft, when CJ found himself in Houston, that he realized how much he missed her calm presence. The pressure of the NFL was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, and at times, the weight of it felt suffocating. He needed someone who understood him outside of the field, someone who could help him ground himself.
One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, CJ called her. He didn't know why—maybe it was the exhaustion or the frustration of feeling like he was carrying the weight of the Texans' future on his shoulders—but he needed to hear her voice.
"Sophia, how are you?" His voice was low, tired.
"I'm doing well. How about you?" she asked, her voice steady and comforting.
"I'm good, just... you know, trying to adjust," he admitted. "It's harder than I thought."
"I know. But you've been working for this for so long. It'll get easier."
CJ didn't respond right away. He was quiet, processing her words. "I know. I just... I don't know if I'm doing it right."
"You are," she said firmly. "And I'm proud of you. You don't have to be perfect, CJ. You just have to keep building, one step at a time."
In that moment, CJ realized that he wasn't alone in this journey. Sophia had always been there, supporting him from afar, and he could always count on her to help him find his way. He wasn't just building a future for himself on the field—he was building it with her, together.
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