I’ve been so worried about never being ready for the changes that settling down comes with, that it never once occurred to me that settling withAidenmight not come with any changes at all. Or at least not any bad ones.
“I’m an idiot,” I breathe.
Mr. Reeves coughs awkwardly into his fist, barely hiding his smile. “A little.”
I let out a loud laugh at that. And, feeling suddenly relieved, I throw my arms around his neck and give him a grateful hug. “Thank you,” I whisper.
It takes him a second but eventually he squeezes me back. When he pulls away, there’s genuine happiness on his face as he says, “Let’s go find some seats, yeah?”
Nodding quickly, I look past him to the cage where the next fight is just starting.
And then I make a split second decision to pull my phone out so I can type a message and hitSend.
18
AIDEN
It's been two weeks since I've taken a real breath. Two weeks since I've felt like I've had my head on straight, like I've had my shit together enough to do what I need to do tonight.
And it's fucking up my focus.
After I left Dani in my apartment, I went to the gym and did the same thing that every fighter does after a breakup: I trained. I pushed myself so hard that Max basically had to drag me into the showers once I was done, and still, it wasn’t enough to forget the fact that I can’t accurately call what happened a breakup.
You have to be together to break up.
For two weeks, I threw myself into training for this fight. There was no way I was going to pull out of it, no way I was going to call my dad up and tell him another woman leaving was going to affect my life decisions.
She made her choice, and I made mine.
I don't blame Dani for it ending the way it did. I knew what she was scared of while we were dating; Iknewwhat my comment would make her do. There's no part of me that's surprised at her reaction.
I'm just… fucking hurt.
Despite my constant inner reminders, I realized there was a part of me that thought she might change her mind. That she might fight against her fears and decide I'm worth taking a chance on.
I should've known I don't have that kind of hold on women.
By the time fight day approaches, I'm a shell of my usual person. I'm not doing anything besides going through the motions, cutting weight on autopilot and feeling thankful for the pain that twenty-four hours without food and water comes with. The physical pain temporarily outdoes the emotional pain, allowing me to sink even further into a state of numbness.
I feel no relief from that first sip of water after weigh-ins, and instead of the usual team dinner that is customary the night before a fight, I beg Tristan and Jax to let me go home so I can go to sleep.
I somehow end up at Dad's place instead of my own. There's still a lingering scent of Dani in my apartment, and I haven't been able to sleep in my own bed since everything went down.
Dad knows something's up with me but knows enough not to ask about it before a fight. Although with the amount of concerned glances I get from him, I'm thinking he might break his usualwe don't talk about emotionspersona and ask me what the fuck is wrong with me.
I take that as my cue to go to bed, and I fall asleep with the memory of a black-haired girl that broke my heart and the hope that fight day nerves are enough to wash it away.
* * *
The nerves hit hard the next day. I exhale a breath of relief when I wake up with them, thankful to have something else to preoccupy my mind, at least for a day.
I don't think of her all day. Not through breakfast, or the ride to the arena, or as I'm warming up with Jax and waiting for my name to be called. Fight day stress is so bad that it overshadows every thought that isn'tkill or be killed.
That chant rings in my head the entire walk down to the cage. I no longer feel numb, but I do still feel frozen—or at the very least, not like my usual arrogant, energetic self. I smack my gloves and force the internal chant to be louder, trying towillmyself into my usual fighting headspace.
And yet the second the bell rings, instead of the sound lighting a fire under my ass the way it usually does, I still just feel… flat.
And despite Coach yellingtouch and then go right awayfrom his place in my corner, I'm still not quick enough to spot the gleam in my opponent's eye.