Her instinct kicked in and she immediately reached for her phone, which sat on her bedside table charging. She had to call him. Talk to him. See if he was OK. Tell him she loved... but, as Fiona wrapped a towel around her, reality set in. She sat facing outward on the bed, the screen now off.
As hard as it was to accept, Tegan was the reason he was falling apart. Their time together. Hell, if she was doubting herself and her last words to him, here was the proof. In plain colour.
“Are you sure about this?” Fiona asked from behind her, plugging in the device.
Tegan looked down at her phone. At his name. Flicking through the messages, the naughty pictures and sexts, back and forth. She pressed his name until the options screen came up. Do you wish to delete and block this contact?
Her finger hovered over the screen. No. Of course she didn’t.
But as much as she tried to think otherwise, she knew herself. She’d cave in sometime and call him. Needing him. She couldn’t afford that and neither could he. She would need all the strength she could muster to survive, starting from today. Inner strength. Discipline. Doing what she had to do for both of them.
She’d rather face hell alone if it meant not risking having him sink with her.
She looked at the screen and remembered Fiona’s question. Her whispered answer was for both of them. “Yes...”
She pressed accept on her phone and closed her eyes. She never saw his name disappear, but she did hear the whirring in Fiona’s hand. She let her tears fall silently as Fiona gently scraped her scalp with the clippers, strands of hair falling away just as the tears continued to fall...
* * *
“Howdy, howdy, sports fans and welcome to another Friday Night Fight. A couple of great matches so far, but now we get to the one we’ve been waiting for: Williams v Gasnier. The winner goes on to face Brent Diaz for the Undisputed Championship. What are your thoughts, John?”
“I cannot believe you’re making me watch this...” Tegan croaked as Fiona poured her a glass of water. She lay still in her bed after today’s latest round of chemo. The effects had been brutal on her body. As she reached for the cup, her ID bracelet slid down to almost her elbow. She had deliberately asked for no mirrors in her room so as to not remind herself of how much weight she was losing or what she looked like. Her stomach gripped her with pain hour after hour. Whether that was the effect of her treatment or her constant vomiting, she wasn’t sure. All she wanted to do was sleep. When she slept, she didn’t vomit. When she slept, she didn’t cry. She didn’t feel sorry for herself either. She tried so hard to be strong, to will herself through each day, each session. But her strength was just not there. Mentally or physically.
She knew she wasn’t supposed to feel better anytime soon, but never had she thought she could feel this bad. To her credit, in which Tegan could never give her enough, Fiona had come to see her everyday. Tonight, to Tegan’s surprise, Fiona had organised, or rather paid for, the fight to be streamed on Tegan’s ceiling TV.
“I told you, this isn’t for you, it’s for me. You had that glorious cock for, like, three days and you never described it enough. I need inspiration when I get home to my toy after being around your pasty, bony arse. I’m gonna need arthritis cream for my wrist.”
“Have fun fucking yourself then, tubby tits.”
Fiona planted a light kiss on Tegan’s head and Tegan smiled, patting her arm. Their insults were always in good fun, and they made the situation less horrible. What more could be said that wasn’t depressing? Making light of a shit situation suited Tegan just fine.
“Good evening, everyone. Tonight, Brad, we get two fighters with similar strengths but very different styles. On one hand, we have Connor Williams, the Irish Bloodhound. He’s a great technical fighter with a lethal right foot and a huge engine. But, as good as he is, on the other hand, we have the overwhelming favourite, Owen Gasnier. The Sydney Scorpion. His last fight lasted less than half a minute and he took down his opponent, Rudy Dominov, with only two strikes.”
“That’s right, John, and let’s not forget that Rudy Dominov actually handed Connor Williams the only defeat of his professional career last year. Is it going to be telling that Gasnier, who’s undefeated, beat the man who beat his current opponent?”
“Yes and no. I think it’s safe to say Williams learnt a lot from that defeat and came out a better fighter for it. But at that stage of his career he wasn’t ready for Dominov. Even now, Gasnier has less experience than Williams did back then, but handled Dominov with almost ridiculous ease. I cannot see anything but a Gasnier victory by knockout.”
“I actually agree with you there. The fighters are almost due, but just quickly, let’s turn our attention to the next time we will see one of these men, when one of them takes on the reigning champion. Now that will be a great match up.”
“Oh man, I cannot wait for that. Even coming in for make-up today, I had fans coming up to me, mostly Gasnier fans, talking about Gasnier v Diaz. It’s the fight they all want to see. Hell, I’ll admit it. I want to see it too. Brute strength up against sleek skill. That is if Williams doesn’t proceed through of course, but with respect, I’m going with my first prediction. Gasnier wins, and we are on our way to a dream match that I couldn’t even call.”
The cameras switched to inside the dressing rooms, showing Connor Williams shadow boxing. His team shouting encouragement or instructions as he moved, Tegan wasn’t sure. And then her heart leapt. She saw him. Owen. Sitting on a bench as his father secured his gloves.
His face was like stone. No emotion in it whatsoever. It was so strange to see him now, on a screen. After seeing him fight live. After being in his bed. After taking him into hers. This wasn’t him. Not this emotionless fighting machine. He had such passions. For people. For his fans. For children. For life. For her. She felt it when he touched her, when he asked her about her interests. Little things, like opening up to her about his fears.
A part of her wanted to be there with him. For him. To kiss him for luck. But, and she was ashamed to admit it, part of her was glad she wasn’t there. Because she wanted him to lose tonight. Winning meant facing Diaz. She could never and probably would never get that fight versus Chozen out of her head. No title, no championship, was worth what Owen would have to go through.
Tegan bowed her head as Williams made his entrance, showboating like they all did. Well, like most did.
She let out a small breath.Please, just let him be OK.
Through the TV, she could hear the familiar crowd swell, arm in arm, with ‘Loch Lomond’.
“Maybe if we joined in, might make you feel better?”
“Imnotsingingthatstupidfuckingsong!” Tegan seethed.
Fiona took a second before rubbing her hand softly, knowing better than to press the issue as the crowd started to chant as Owen stepped from behind a curtain and made his way towards the Cage, Robert flanking him like usual.