I enter the cage and listen as the announcer goes through his usual spiel. I resist glancing up into the crowd again.
I walk to the center of the ring, as I’ve done dozens of time. I listen while the ref gives us our instructions, as I’ve done dozens of time. But when it comes times to tap gloves with my competitor, I don’t move. I don’t touch them; I only stare at him. I asked for this fight. People will expect a show. Maybe this will be show enough for them.
I think of how I’m going to phrase what I’m about to say. Nothing eloquent or elaborate. I’ll say the only thing I need to say. And the person who needs to understand it will understand.
The ref eyes me, as does my opponent, when I motion toward the ceiling for the drop-down mic. There’s a hushed kind of chatter that spreads through the crowd. I try to ignore it, which is much easier this time. My focus is on one person, whether she’s here or not.
When the mic drops down, I grab it and turn toward the umbrella that may or may not be hiding the woman I’m in love with. I gesture to her with my free hand and speak clearly to the waiting crowd.
“This is for you, Katie,” I begin. Then, when the place is almost silent in anticipation, I continue. “Tonight will be my last fight. I’m officially retiring.”
And then all hell breaks loose. Screams erupt, voices yell, cameras flash, and a mob of frenzied fans rushes the cage. The gate, still ajar until the fight begins, is pushed open and people rush in. Security forces their way through to my opponent and me, ushering us out of the stadium and back into the locker rooms. To safety. To calm. To the consequences.
FORTY-FIVE
Katie
I hit the release of my umbrella and shrink it as quickly as I can so that I can push my way through the crowd. When I get to the aisle, I run as fast as I can for the tunnel into which Rogan disappeared. When I reach a crossroads in the two main halls surrounding the arena, I spot Johns heading around a corner. He doesn’t look happy.
My lungs burn as I launch myself toward them, frantic to get to Rogan before he does something irreversible. I skitter around the concrete corner and burst through the double doors at the end of the short hall. All eyes turn toward me, but I only see one set, the only set that matters.
They are the clear green of a princess-cut emerald being held up to the light. And they are focused on me.
“Don’t do this for me,” I blurt breathlessly.
“I want to,” he says, edging his way toward me where I stand near the door. “This is me showing you that you’re the most important thing in my life.”
My heart slams against my ribs. “All you had to do was say so.”
“Words aren’t enough. You need to see that I’d do anything for you. I’d give up anything for you, I’d take on anything for you. I’d run, I’d fly, I’d fight. I’d do anything to prove to you that I love you. That I’ve always loved you.”
I wanted so much to hear him say it again. Just one more time. Or a million. Or every day of forever.
I feel the sting of tears. I don’t even try to hold them back this time. I’m too happy to hold them in. “I love you, too.”
His shoulders sag and he drops his head. My heart stutters in alarm as I take in his posture. He doesn’t look happy. He looks . . . defeated.
“God, Katie,” he begins softly. “I wanted you to love me. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.” He raises tortured eyes to mine. “But I knew I couldn’t give you what you needed.”
“You were all I needed. Only you. I thought it was the fighting. Then I thought I couldn’t get past you working with Sims. But then I got a taste of life without you, of what it feels like to truly be dying inside. That’s when I realized that I can do anything for you. That I’m tough enough to live now. Because of you. I was tough enough to stand up to the Simses. I was tough enough to fight back. And I was tough enough to come here. To you. Because you’re all that matters to me.”