And he just held me. Didn’t look away. Didn’t make me feel weak. Just watched me with those dark eyes that see straight through me.
For the first time in my life, someone saw all of me—not just the fighter, the businessman, the tough guy—and didn’t turn away. He saw my fear, my confusion, my weakness, and he stayed. He wanted me anyway.
What kind of man throws that away?
Finally, I step out of the car. The walk to his building feels like crossing a minefield, each step a decision I can’t take back.
My hand trembles slightly as I press the button for his apartment. No answer. Maybe he saw me through the window, sitting in my car like some stalker for the past hour. Maybe he’s done waiting.
I try again, holding it longer this time.
The intercom crackles. “Yes?” His voice—cool, detached.
“It’s me.” The words barely escape my dry throat. “Can I come up?”
A long pause follows, long enough that I think he’s going to refuse. Then the door buzzes open.
The elevator ride feels endless. I’ve rehearsed this moment for days—what I’ll say, how I’ll explain that I’ve been living in fear, that I’ve created the very prison I was afraid of, that I’mready to tear down these walls because what’s on the other side is worth it.
When the elevator doors open, he’s already standing in his doorway, barefoot in black joggers and a thin white t-shirt. His hair is messy, like he’s been running his hands through it. Dark circles shadow his eyes.
We just look at each other.
All my carefully prepared words evaporate like morning dew under a harsh sun. My mind goes blank, leaving only the raw, unfiltered truth.
“Come to the gym tomorrow,” I blurt out. “I want you to meet my fighters. As my... as the person I’m seeing.”
Theo’s expression doesn’t change. His eyes, usually so expressive, reveal nothing. He stands statue still, arms crossed over his chest.
“Why now?” he asks, his voice quiet but steady.
“Because I’m miserable without you. Because I’m tired of being afraid. Because you deserve better than secret parking garage fucks and hidden coffee dates.”
The words tumble out unfiltered. My pulse spikes like I’m back in the ring, exposed and vulnerable. I take a step closer to him, close enough to catch his scent—the sandalwood scent that’s been haunting me for weeks.
“Because I’m choosing you. I’m choosing us. And I’m done hiding.”
Theo’s eyes search my face, looking for any sign of hesitation or bullshit. I’ve never felt more exposed, standing here in his hallway with everything laid bare. No deflection. No excuses. Just the truth I’ve been running from since the moment I first saw him.
His gaze is steady, unflinching. I recognize that look—he’s weighing my words, testing them for weakness the way I testa new fighter’s defense. But there’s something else there too, a cautious flicker that I’ve grown far too accepting of.
“Just your core team?” he asks finally, his voice softer than before.
I swallow hard. “For now. Baby steps.”
It’s not everything he deserves. Not yet. But it’s a start—the first real step toward dismantling the walls I’ve built.
Theo nods slowly. “Okay. Baby steps.”
37
THEO
Iarrive at Kaine’s Fight Club at precisely 2 PM, my heart beating an erratic rhythm against my ribs that would make a terrible track. The building’s industrial exterior gives nothing away—no hint of the significance this moment holds.
Through the glass door, I can see the gym is alive with activity—fighters dancing around heavy bags, throwing combinations, others sparring in the elevated ring at the center where fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows. The smell of sweat and determination hits me the moment I step inside.
Victor’s waiting just beyond the entrance, tensing when he spots me. He’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt with his gym’s logo, training shorts, and an expression caught somewhere between determination and terror.
