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I’m a born fighter.
No matter the outcome, I’ve always got fight left in me, no matter how many hits I take. And I took them, eager for more, covered in those ashes, hungry and thirsty, and it all led up to tonight—my last amateur fight.
Pivoting forward, I end his misery and deliver one last blow, letting gravity take care of the rest. He collapses at my feet, and I take a step back, satisfied as my arm gets lifted while the ringside roars.
Though I know her distance, it doesn’t change the fact that I search the crowd for her face after every fight in the hope she’ll be there, a pride-filled smile on her face, an ‘I told you so,’ ready on her tongue. But she’s not. I’m her past, a moment in time, a memory. Her college boyfriend. A blip. And I have yet to fully believe that for myself.
Every fight I come up empty, but it doesn’t change my routine. I’m always going to look for her because even though she asked me not to, inside, I’ve been waiting.
Because of tonight’s win, the ranch is safe, at least for another few months. My family is safe.
Harper is thriving. I’ve been keeping up with her progress on social media. She’s joined a dance troupe that travels, working various shows all over Europe, exploring places we only dreamed of together in the double-sized bed we tangled to fit in.
The smiles in her pictures seem genuine. She’s with people who care about her, believe in her. She’s living her dream.
And my dreams have changed.
With the NFL unattainable, boxing saved me. She was right. Football was a pastime, and boxing has become my obsession.
And so I fight, for myself, for my family, and for her, in hope she looks for me in the crowd at the foot of her stage. Where I want to be, instead of sitting on a bench while Tony cleans my eye.
“You did good, kid. Two months and we’re in Vegas. You earned this. But we’ve got a few things to work on.”
Tony’s been with me since Harper introduced us, conditioning me for the heavyweight circuit. He believes in me so much, he trains me at the ranch. I’ve become his pet project. My family has taken him in as one of their own. He’s as obsessed as I am. We’re so close we can both taste it. Aside from Harper and my family, Tony is the only other person in my life who believes in more for me.
Harper.
Closing my eyes, I let the lingering loss of her eat me from the inside as he cuts the tape from my hands. Some days it seems like a lifetime ago we were in that gym, other nights, like tonight, I feel her with me.
“Kid, I figured you for a better mood since you just dominated that fight. Not a bad payday either. I told you those amateur rounds would pay off.”
I lay back and stare at the gaping hole in the tile on the ceiling as Tony inspects the damage to my ribs.
I’m a world away from his c
onversation, struck with how much truth has been revealed to me tonight in the last few hours.
Why the hell am I waiting?
Springing up from the table, I start to pace the locker room.
“What the hell, man?”
“I’m good. Ribs are sore, but I’m good.”
“You need to let me make that decision. Get back here.”
“I’m good.” I pace the room, thoughts racing, my pulse picking up as something inside me tells me now’s the time. The only time.
“I don’t like that look,” Tony says, crossing his arms from where he stands at the table.
“I need a few days.”
He shakes his head. “We don’t have time to miss a few days. We’ve got that charity match in a week, and we need every minute together before Vegas.”
“We’ve got months. I’ll make it.”
“We need every spare minute we can get.”
