The sun shone down on us from directly above in the middle of a clear day. The perfect ‘welcome home’ for us in the place we both could call home—Knock’s.
Chance squeezed my hand three times, to which I eagerly returned the action.
Those three little squeezes had meant much more than touch all along. I’d figured it out during Chance’s weight cut. Those three squeezes had said what words couldn’t. And in those long twenty-four hours before weigh-ins, actions were how we’d communicated.
A slim figure crested the hill along with a large furry figure beside her. Gus came running down towards us, skidding on the gravel, and landing belly-up in front of us. A groaning laughter came from him when we scratched his belly. Then he was up and bounding off for Nan, looking back every few seconds as if to say, “Come on, guys! Hurry up!”.
“Welcome home!” The entire town of Soggla was standing before us, bringing us home. Gym-goers were standing inside, mostly warding people from standing on the mats with shoes on. Patty, Nancy, and all of the Rustic Roo oldies. The ladies from Nan’s gossip group, and the four ladies who worked between the bookshop and the florist. Paige stood next to Dylan, laughing at something he’d said before quickly snapping a picture of a nearby kid whooping and cheering for us. Kids—there were so many young ones here too. Children who might have a poster of Chance on their wall, who could look up to him and say, ‘When I grow up, I want to be just like him’.
And there, front and centre, stood Al, Nan, JJ, and Dylan.
“The king returns!” Wazza hollered from over the mats.
Chance grinned before bowing down to me, lifting my fingers to his lips.
“And so does his queen,” he replied, holding my hand in his, high for everyone to see.
Chapter 67
Chance
Two years later …
“That’s it, Lenny! Bridge and roll … Excellent!” My wife stood circling two six-year-olds, who were rolling. Her new BJJ Gi fit perfectly around the growing bump of her stomach, but we would have to switch to no-Gi classes soon.
“Great job boys!” she cheered for them as the timer beeped loudly. “Change partners!”
She wandered between different pairings, switching from instructing to cheering within the span of half a second. Sunny really was an incredible coach, and all of the kids in the class responded well to her methods of teaching.
She’d taken over kids’ classes permanently after my last championship title defence three months ago. When we’d come away with the win, a submission in the second round, she was bouncing off the walls, excited about my grappling execution. For the eight-hour flight and the four-hour drive home from the airport, it had been all she could talk about.
Seeing her participate every day in the two things she was truly passionate about—BJJ and shaping young minds—was fucking incredible. She was glowing, and not just from our baby boy who would continue growing inside her for the next four months. She was happy. Finally, beautifully happy and at peace.
Those brown eyes met mine, and I did the same thing I always did when our gazes met—I fell in love all over again. Those warm, honey brown eyes sparkled when her lips tipped up in that fucking breathtaking smile she had.
“Hi, darling,” she said, skipping over to me.
“Hey, Sunny baby,” I replied, dropping a kiss to her lips. “How’re you going?”
“Can’t complain.” She beamed, subconsciously rubbing a hand over her swollen stomach.
JJ, Sunny, and I had all attended therapy for what happened that night after I won my first championship. We had done some sessions together, some apart, but we weren’t haunted anymore. We spoke about what happened freely and openly, and we stood by each other on both the good and bad days.
There had been a lot of both.
But these moments, these special memories of the last two years made everything worth it. Seeing Milah come home. Seeing JJ make it into the pros as a heavyweight fighter. Hearing Sunny say the words ‘yes’ and ‘I do’ had been particularly special times. Hanging up the pads Al had held for me the night I first won the belt in his house for him. Sitting with Marilyn while she got her first tattoo and comforting her to have faith in JJ toknow what he was doing. Seeing the two lines pop up on Sunny’s pregnancy test.
All of these moments in time were priceless, and if the life I’d lived before was the price I had to pay—I would pay it ten times over if it meant I ended here. Because sometimes you’ve gotta bear with the storm to see the sunshine. And boy was that warm, quiet sunshine worth the rain.
