No matter what, the next fight for both of these women will define this sport for years to come. If they never face each other again, there will always be a what if about the two of them. Which is insane. If Beckinsale loses her next fight? What then? Will all this go away and some sense of normalcy return?
So many variables. So many what ifs. The only constant is Nash. And she has been disrespected beyond all measure of fairness. But she can take it because she’s a champion.
The best of luck to all involved. I’ll be watching this closely, eager to see what happens, as will all fans I’d wager, but I’ll forever be in Nash’s corner. ”
Ruben turned off the TV and sat forward, blowing out a slight sigh. That panel was hard to watch. He and Chris were just beginning to see the effect the fight was having outside this damn hospital room, and it was difficult not to find it intimidating. He always knew if Ava reached a certain level, she would attract a lot of attention. But not like this. Not lying in a bed while the media poked at her carcass and decided what they thought should be done.
Chris lay sleeping in the chair by the wall. Ava was still motionless.
All Ruben could think about was leaving the room and heading back down to the convenience store. A small sip or two wasn’t that bad, especially if both of them were asleep. He wouldn’t be missed. He hadn’t had any since the night of the fight, so it wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong. Just one sip to ease the pain, to just dull things. That was all.
He lowered his head and shoved his fingers through his hair, trying so desperately to push the thought of drinking out. He could do this. He didn’t need it. He DIDN’T need it. He focused instead on the small, but lovely, assortment of lilies that had been delivered for Ava just a few hours ago. While it was strange there was no note, Ruben assumed they were from Jasmine.
He pressed his forehead against Ava’s lap. “Babes, please, hunni. We need you... I need you.” Day after day he had cried in this position, begging her to wake up.
He had been receiving daily text messages from Jasmine back in Sydney, checking on Ava, one of the only bright spots in this miserable situation.Speak of the devil. He pulled out his phone, and sure enough, the text was from her. Asking if there had been any change. Telling him to give Ava a kiss for her. And to make it a good one because she had a big reputation.
Ruben smiled and read the message from his phone to Ava, holding her hand as he read. “You know, babes, I think there could still be something there—”
Ruben stopped talking as the fingers of Ava’s hand moved. Her eyes were open. She was groggy, but she was awake. He burst into tears, waking Chris who knocked his chair over in his haste to reach her side. He gently touched her face as Ruben buried his head in her lap, thanking God, over and over. The panel, alcohol, Jasmine— all of it had been forgotten. Nothing outside her room mattered right then.
18
Ava knewshe would be in hospital. She remembered little of the fight. In fact, it hurt to try and use her brain at all. But, somehow, she knew she would wake up in a hospital room, so it wasn’t much of a shock to see Ruben and Chris surrounding her bed. It was unnerving to see both of their eyes red and puffy, though. These guys were as tough as they come and didn’t cry easily.
She tried to reach for the water jug beside her bed, but her arm felt like granite.
“Babes,” Chris said, stroking her head, “ try to relax. You’re OK. Really banged up. But you’re OK. Things won’t come as easily for a little while.”
“I’ll get it, sweetheart,” Ruben said, popping up from his chair to fill her cup. He bent over and eased some past her parched lips. Most, though, went down her chin, not her throat.God... she felt so heavy. Yet flimsy.
“Here, just sit up a tad,” Chris said, wrapping his arm around her back and helping her adjust so that Ruben could raise the bed.
It was then that her eyes flicked down to her legs. One was wrapped in plaster with a plate screwed into the casing to hold it together.
“Ava...” Chris began, trying to cup her face. “Ava, listen to me... it’s OK...”
She had been gripping his shirt tighter and tighter as panic and confusion rushed through her. She couldn’t move her legs. She could wiggle but that was it. All other motor functions were off. Her lips trembled as she tried to ask what happened, what was going on. But her voice failed her. A rushing, burning pain shot through her throat and all that came were grunts. She had no voice.
She lay back and let emotion overcome her, shaking with tears but it hurt too much to even offer a sound. She felt Chris’ lips on her forehead and heard him pleading that it was OK. He knew it looked bad, but she would be OK. But, even through the wetness in her eyes, Ava saw Ruben cover his mouth. It wasn’t OK. She was more than banged up. As horrible as it was seeing what she had upon waking, the real nightmare would begin when she was told the true damage to her body.
The door to Max’s office opened and he said, “Veronica. Thanks for coming. Come in.”
Veronica stepped into the office adorned with sporting paraphernalia. All from events Max had promoted. A lot from her fights. It was soothing to walk along and see picture after picture of her victories, taking her back to a time when she didn’t feel the weight of the world. When she didn’t feel hated.
It had been eight weeks since the exhibition. Eight weeks of watching her name being dragged through the mud. The name she had put her blood, sweat and tears in to building. It was going to stop.
“Something to drink?”
“No thanks.”
Max nodded and sat behind his desk. “Well, how have you been? Nose heal up OK?”
“I’ve been better. But the nose is fine now. Thanks.”
“Good. So it’s been a rough couple of months for everyone. I wanted to check in and see where your head's at. There’s a lot of talk about the two of you but not much with you.”
Veronica shrugged. “I appreciate that, but I don’t know what to say. I’m suddenly public enemy number one. I feel like everything I’ve accomplished is gutter trash. My tenth year as champion is unprecedented but feels dirty and contaminated. I just want to fight the best out there and cement my place in this sport. But all that has come grinding to a halt. This is still all anyone can talk about. I want people to move on and leave both of us alone.”