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The atmosphere in the foyer pressed down on her, almost agonizing in its power. She couldn’t think when he was like this, so focused and intense, funneling all of his energy toward her. It woke up her nerve endings and they ruffled under the surface of her skin, begging her to move with a restless insistence. But move where?
“What helps?” she asked softly, afraid of spooking him. She couldn’t predict if he’d leave or advance on her and, at this point, she couldn’t say which she’d prefer.
“Fighting.” The word reverberated against the marble, ringing in her ears.
She gasped, hand flying to her mouth. Surely he didn’t mean actual fighting. As if he intended to return to his former sport.
“I need to get in the ring again,” he confirmed, his dark gaze on hers, searching for something she couldn’t give him. Pleading with her to understand. “I have—”
“No,” she interrupted as her stomach dropped. “You can’t. You have no idea what’s going on inside your skull and you want to introduce more trauma? Not a good idea.”
He’d only returned to civilization a few days ago, broken on the inside. He needed...something, yes, but it wasn’t picking up his former MMA persona as if no time had passed. As if he was still whole and healthy. As if he had nothing important to lose.
“This is not your call, Caitlyn,” he said gently. Too gently. He’d already made up his mind. “This is my life, my head. I’m a fighter. It’s what I do.”
She stared up at him, and the raw emotion swimming through his eyes took her breath. “You haven’t been a fighter for a long time, Antonio. You’re a businessman now.”
That was the man she knew well, the safe, contained version of Antonio. When he’d quit his MMA career to manage what went on in the ring for other fighters, it was the best of both worlds. Antonio still had all the outer trappings of his lean fighting physique, which—let’s be honest—was wickedly delicious enough to get a nun going, but he’d shed the harsh brutality of Falco.
She liked him as a businessman. Businessmen were constant, committed. The way she’d always thought of Antonio. If he wasn’t that man, who was he?
“I might have been before the crash, but I don’t remember that part of me.” Bleakly, he stared off into the distance and her heart plummeted. “That Antonio might as well be dead. The only Antonio I know is the one who lives inside my heart, beating against the walls of my chest, alive but not whole. That Antonio screams inside my head, begging to be free of this web of uncertainty.”
God, how poetically awful and terrible. Her soul ached to imagine the confusion and pain he must experience every minute of every day, but at the same time, she thrilled in the knowledge that he’d shared even that small piece of himself.
His gaze snapped back to hers and she’d swear on a stack of Bibles he hadn’t moved, but his heat wrapped around her, engulfing her, and she was powerless to stop it from affecting her. She wanted to step back, quickly. As fast as her legs could carry her. But he’d backed her against the wall...or she’d backed herself against the wall by starting this madness. By assuming she could convince a man who’d survived a plane crash to see a doctor.
Madness.
Because her body ached for Antonio to step into that scant space between them, which felt uncomfortably slight and yet as massive as the ocean that had separated him from his old life.
She wanted to support him. To care for him. To help him reenter his life in whatever way made sense to him. Who was she to say he shouldn’t be in the ring again? Vanessa hadn’t liked him fighting, either, but her sister had held many weapons in her arsenal that might have prevented the man she’d married from doing something dangerous.
Caitlyn had nothing.
“Please understand.” He held her captive without words, without touching her at all, as his simple plea burned her throat. “I have to unleash my frustration on an opponent who can take it. Who’s trained for it. Before I take it out on someone else.”
Her teeth caught her lip and bit down as his meaning sank in. He sought a healthy outlet for his confusion, one that was familiar to him. Why was that so bad?
She’d been trying to keep him away from the media, away from his former employees and business partners, who might ask uncomfortable questions he couldn’t answer. Perhaps she’d worried unnecessarily. Most likely, he’d be firmly in the public eye for the rest of his life, whether she liked it or not, and she couldn’t keep him to herself forever. It was ridiculous to even pretend they could hide away in this house, even for a few days.
