The Coaching System

The final whistle blew, Valley Parade burst out in jubilation.

Bradford City 4-0 Crawley Town.

Another statement win. Another dominant performance.

Jake Wilson remained calm on the touchline, his arms folded as the players celebrated on the pitch. He had drilled a winning mentality into them—no excessive celebrations, no slacking. This was just another step toward the bigger goal.

Paul Roberts, his assistant, nudged him. "Back-to-back clean sheets. We're building something real here."

Jake nodded. "We are."

His focus was already shifting to the next game. League Two was a grind, and he couldn't afford to lose focus.

As he headed toward the tunnel, he glanced at his players thanking the fans. The energy in the stadium was tremendous. This was how a club should feel.

But, as he was ready to enter the tunnel, he heard a voice.

A voice sent shivers down his spine.

"Jake!"

He turned instinctively.

A woman stood at the barriers, arms crossed, her look a mix of frustration, rage, and something more.

Jake frowned. Do I know her?

She stepped closer, her gaze never leaving his.

"I've been calling you for weeks. You think you can just ignore me forever?"

The confusion deepened in his chest. "Who are you?"

She scoffed. "I'm your wife."

Jake froze.

The noise of the stadium faded. The conversations around him blurred into nothingness.

His wife?

For the first time since he reincarnated, he felt completely blindsided.

Memories Resurface 

Something changed inside of him the instant she said it.

Suddenly, glimpses of memories returned. Painful, honest, unedited memories from the past.

Emma Wilson. His wife.

Their son. Ten years old.

The massive fight.

"I can't do this again, Jake!"

A memory of them standing in a dimly lit apartment—her shouting, him packing his bags.

"You always choose football over us! Do you even care?"

"I told you, Emma, I can't have another kid right now. My career—"

"Your career?! What about your family?"

She was crying, and he didn't stop to comfort her.

Instead, he walked out.

And just like that, the memory ended, and he was back in the present, staring at the woman whose heart he had broken.

A Heated Conversation 

Jake swallowed hard, trying to process everything.

Emma's eyes narrowed. "So, what now? You're just going to pretend I don't exist?"

Jake took a step forward, lowering his voice. "I... I didn't know—"

"Didn't know?" She scoffed. "Jake, we were married. We have a son. And now—"

She hesitated before dropping the biggest bombshell yet.

"I'm three months pregnant."

Jake was having trouble breathing after hearing that she kept the child.

He glanced around, suddenly hyper-aware of the people still lingering nearby.

"Not here," he muttered, gesturing toward a quieter spot near the parking lot.

Emma followed, arms still crossed, the tension between them thick enough to cut.

The moment they were away from prying eyes, Emma turned to face him, her emotions boiling over.

"You really don't remember anything, do you?" she asked, her voice softer this time.

Jake hesitated. "I've been... focused on the club."

A weak excuse, but it was the best he could come up with.

Emma shook her head. "Before this year, we were falling apart, Jake. You were obsessed with your job, shutting me out completely. Then, when I told you I was pregnant, you said i should abort the child and then you-"

She stopped, inhaling sharply.

Jake finished for her. "I left."

The words felt foreign on his tongue, but the memory was there now.

He had walked out on her. On their son.

Emma looked away, her hands trembling slightly. "I waited. I gave you space, hoping you'd come back. But weeks passed. Then months. And now suddenly, you act like none of it ever happened."

Jake ran a hand through his hair. He had inherited a life that was already broken.

And now? He had to figure out how to fix it.

Emma took a deep breath, her voice steadier but laced with exhaustion.

"I didn't come here to beg you, Jake. I came because you deserve to know. Our son—he still asks about you."

Jake's stomach twisted.

"I'm not here to force you into anything," she continued. "But I need to know one thing."

Her eyes locked onto his.

"Are you going to run away again?"

Silence stretched between them.

For the first time since his reincarnation, Jake didn't have an answer.

He could walk away—focus entirely on his career, avoid complications since he did not know her.

Or he could face this new reality head-on.

He had been given a second chance at life.

Maybe it was time to stop running.

He exhaled. "We should figure this out."

Emma's expression softened just a little. "Then don't disappear again."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Jake standing in the parking lot, his mind a battlefield of thoughts.

Later that night, Jake sat alone in his office, staring at his desk.

Something told him there had to be something left of his past here.

Slowly, he opened the drawers, searching through the folders and paperwork—until his fingers brushed against something cold.

He pulled it out.

A small, faded photo.

In it, he saw himself—the old Jake.

Standing next to Emma.

And in front of them? A young boy, no older than ten.

His son.

Jake's grip tightened on the photo. This was real.

The system remained silent.

Because for once, it had no answer.

This wasn't a tactical problem to solve.

This was his life.

And he had no idea what to do next.