Every time I get caught up in this chaotic cyclone of worries, I have to remind myself that as much as I love Jax, as much as I'm dying to show up on his doorstep and beg him to take me back, part of me would be lying. Because I'm not ready yet. I still need some time to settle into my new life, into my new career goals and hobbies, with my rekindled friendships. And whether Jax and I end up together or not, he still saved me when he let me go.
I let myself meditate for a few more breaths before pushing to my feet and getting ready to walk down to the café. But before I close the door, I take a moment to look around my new apartment. At my new home.
And I allow myself to feel grateful. Not just for the good things that exist in my life right now, but for the power I found in myself tocreatethese things. BecauseIbrought this to fruition.Ifound the strength to go after what makes me happy, and to create this space and this amazing life for myself. And whatever happens next, I'm still winning at the game of life.
I step into the hallway and close the door behind me.
I just have to hope Jax can wait a little longer before I'm ready to win him as the final prize.
28
JAX
One Month Later
"You sure you don't want to come with us to grab food?" Tristan asks as he packs up the rest of his gym bag.
I shake my head. "I'm good. Thanks. I'm just going to hit a few more rounds and then I'm going home to get some work done for this week."
Tristan sighs, and I know what he's going to say before he even opens his mouth. He's a good friend, and he hasn't pushed me—even when I know he really wants to—but I know him better than I know myself. And I know what he's going to tell me. I know he's reached his limit.
"You can't do this for much longer, man," he says quietly. Sadly. "It's been three months. All you do is train and work. You don't even eat like you used to. How much longer are you going to live this empty life?"
I shrug. "However long I feel like it. I feel fine this way."
"Feeling fine isn't a victory. You need to figure out how to get back to being yourself, because this is not the answer. You're killing yourself, Jax." He shakes his head. "You didn't give Hailey her life back just so you could throw yours away."
I have no response to that.
He's right, of course. I'm not doing anything but hurting myself by living like this. I should be happy that Hailey took what I said and figured out how to move on, not depressed that she didn't try to force herself back into my life to try to convince me I made a mistake. I should be looking at those few weeks as a gift, and should be living my life like I’m better for it.
But I can't. No matter what I do, I can't stop feeling like I'm missing an entire piece of myself. I feel shredded, and lifeless, and I've felt this way since the moment I walked out of Remy's apartment three months ago.
Tristan leaves the gym without waiting for me to respond. He knows I won't. He knows what I'm dealing with, since he just went through it not long ago with Remy. The difference is, he didn’t lose a friend too. A friend that he could talk to, that he could count on. That he’d already loved for years. And his heartache didn't last long enough for him to have to figure out who he is without his girl.
I shake my head to clear it of the increasingly spiraling thoughts. I tighten the wraps on my hands and pull my gloves on, then head over to the bag room to hit the heavy bags.
Every punch loosens the grip around my heart a little more. It's only in these moments that I feel like I can breathe, and even though the squeeze returns immediately after I stop moving, I relish these workouts as a momentary reprieve from the pain.
It's also the only time I can think about Hailey without getting sucked into a vortex of heartache. With my mind focused mostly on my body not killing itself, it allows me to think of her almost objectively for just a little bit.
For the longest time, I wrestled with the question ofdid I make the right decision?For weeks, I thought about how Hailey must've thought I abandoned her, or I didn't think she was worth it, or God forbid that she was just another girl to me. I asked her for abreak, for fuck's sake. Could I have sounded like a more stereotypical douchebag?
Why didn't I stay by her side and just hold her hand through everything? Why did I think leaving her was the answer?
But then one afternoon a few weeks after that horrible day, I overheard Remy telling Tristan that Hailey had decided to quit college and buy the café—that she was ridiculously happy about the decision and so proud of herself, it was all she could talk about.
And that in itself cemented my choice for me. If Hailey could find the kind of confidence again to make a decision of that size on her own, then hopefully it was my push that started the dominoes falling. And even without the minor tidbits that I picked up from eavesdropping for the weeks after that—that she started dancing again, that she found her own apartment, that she took a trip by herself—I knew I did the right thing.
Even if it felt like I was slowly dying from the effects of it.
It doesn't matter that she's forgotten about me. It doesn't matter that I'm in the same hollow state of alternating pain and nothingness that I fell into the day I walked out of her life. If she's happy, it was worth it. That's all I've ever wanted for Hailey. And if it took me being a rebound for her to make that step, then so be it. I would bear that cross.
I would just have to figure out how to live with it. Even if I was doing a shit job of that at the moment.
My punches never slow, even as my lungs burn and my muscles begin to scream at me. I push through all of it. I even pick up my speed and continue to throw every remaining ounce of energy into my strikes.
If I don't collapse into a heap on the ground, I'm not numb enough.