“Yeah, except he’s not.”
Chris’s tires crunch in the distance before he tears out, and I know I fucked up. Chris was doing us a favor. An apology is in order, I’m just too pissed off to fess up. I hate myself, but I need to ge
t this out. Fill this gaping hole somehow. Tony’s not the only one who’s disgusted. I came back from New York City with a bitterness I can’t shake. I still can’t bring myself to admit it was a mistake to go, but I hate the fact that I have this knowledge now. I wasn’t good enough, and though my actions are proving it now, I’m getting better at blaming her.
Tony stands on the opposing side of the ring. “Two rounds, asshole. If you can land more than fifteen solid punches, I’ll shut the hell up for the rest of today.”
“Done,” I say as Trevor snatches the mouthguard at my feet and hoses it off with my water bottle.
“Don’t take it easy on me now,” Tony scoffs with a sinister grin before putting in his mouthpiece. He looks over to Rip, “Your count.”
“On it,” Rip says, just as entertained as Trevor, who has sprouted up to a man’s height in the last year. He’s almost got me beat at only sixteen, still wet behind the ears, but cocky as ever.
I bounce on the floor of the ring, the ring Trevor, Tony, and I constructed in my father’s tractor barn where I train daily. The barn still houses our farm equipment, but within the large space is now my own arena, which makes it far more convenient to train at the ranch.
“Hey, bro,” I instruct Trevor, “do me a favor and make the speakers bleed.” He nods, walking over to the workbench where the stereo sits. The speakers start thrumming as I put my mouthguard in and wink at Tony before giving him a ‘come hither’ with my glove.
Harper
White Zombie blares from the barn adjacent to the house as I pull up in my rental car. In a mere few hundred steps, I’m going to commit to the man I love. Either that or beg forgiveness. I’m terrified. Plain and simple. Not about the commitment itself, but for what it means for the future. Doubt creeps in as I eye the barn.
What if I’m too late? What if he’s already moved on, at least in the physical sense and is seeing someone else? If so, it would be my fault, and I’m just going to have to deal with it. My hesitation might have cost me more than I can handle this round. Panicked, I leave my suitcase in the car and shut the door to the rental peering at the ranch house. It’s still as spacious as I remember, heavy wood and stone, smoke pluming from the chimney. It’s cozy, a picture-perfect home nestled amongst acres and acres of pasture. I shiver, the mid-February chill seeping through my hoodie.
One step in front of the other, Harper.
I can’t swing if I have nothing to swing for.
I can’t go through losing him again, that much I know. These last six weeks have been utter hell on earth. What we have, I won’t ever be able to replace with anyone else in this lifetime or any other. He’s worth it. And this time I’ll have to fight for him, to be with him, longer and harder than I ever have. But first, I need to step in the ring, and of all the steps I’ve taken in my life, this is the hardest.
One breath, one step at a time.
Years ago, I swore no man would ever take precedence over my dancing career. This step makes me a liar.
But I’m no longer just a dancer in love with a football player.
I’m a woman in love with a man I can’t and refuse to live without.
Everything has changed. I’ve spent the last two years dancing, I can spend the next few months of my life securing my place with Lance. Committing.
It’s the phantom itch in the back of my skull that keeps me standing in the middle of his yard.
“Happy, you little bitch?”
Lance is fearless. Though not outspoken, he takes every task on in his life without reservation, regardless of how he feels. I can’t let this fear win if I want to be the one to venture through life with him.
Searching for courage, I recall the surprising wisdom of René’s words as I took the drive down from the airport. I finally told him the details of what happened back at Grand, and he was angrier than he’d ever been with me. After a thorough bitching out, he cried, and then helped me construct a game plan.
“We all need an end game, Mami. No one want to be alones forever.”
“You want to get married?”
“Of course. Someday. Everyone needs a partner to finish dis life with. When I getting old and grey, I want the right person with me. The one who knows I too chort to get the cup from the cabinet and gets it for me without me asking. Tings like that. Someone who looks out for ju without ju being aware. Ju might be a dancer now, but the chelf life is short, ju won’t die one. Ju need someone who make it stings less when dancing is over, make ju smile, make tings easier, inspires ju.”
“Lance is that for me. He’s everything for me.”
“The difference between me and ju is that my end game has no face yet. Maybes it Ricky, maybes not, but jours does.”
“I love him. I want this. I don’t want to be without him anymore. I can’t.”