Worth the Fight (MMA Fighter 1)

“She came to see me, man. I was a perfect gentleman, calm down. I’m not stupid enough to risk a beat down twice from you.”

I force myself to relax my balled fists. “Look, I’m lost on what you’re talking about. You wanna help me out here?”

Trevor nods. “Your lady came to see me. Filled me in that you’re beating yourself up over our fight.” He stops and takes a deep breath. “And your fight with my brother.”

He’s got my attention now. Trevor looks into my eyes, man to man when he continues. “My brother wasn’t your fault. We don’t blame you. It could have been any fighter in there. Could have happened to any one of us, even me. His head wasn’t right. Doctors said it was a slow bleed and could have gone off at any time.”

I’m listening to the words, but can’t believe they’re being spoken. “If I don’t blame you, why are you still blaming yourself?” I’ve no answer for his question either.

“Listen, man. Deep down, I knew I didn’t have a shot with you either. But the fight was good for me, gave me the exposure I needed to make a name for myself. You know the grudge crap was all to sell tickets.” He walks towards the open elevator, putting his hand on my shoulder as he passes.

Trevor lifts the gate and it looks like he’s going to walk out, but then he turns back to me. “Frankie wouldn’t want you carrying this around with you. He thought you were the shit. Used to watch you on T.V. all the time, and try to memorize your moves. He’d want you to get your lazy ass back in the cage and show ‘em how it’s done.” He lifts a hand, offering me a wave, and takes a step into the waiting elevator car. “And if that doesn’t get your head out of your ass, I’m giving you twenty-four hours to go after the lawyer. If she isn’t smiling pretty by then, I’m calling fair game for me trying my hand at putting it back on her face.” He slams the gate down, securing the latch. Smart man, putting steel between us after the last comment.

Chapter 49

Elle

I’ve worn a bare patch in the area rug in my living room today. Sometimes the best intentions wind up being the nails that build the house of failure. Trevor said he would go see him, and he sounded genuine, but I’m not even sure if he really did. Worse, what if he did go to him and Nico sees my going behind his back as traitorous…unforgivable.

And then my phone rings and my heart races with hope. But it’s quickly stomped on when I see Regina’s face flashing on the screen. Not that I don’t appreciate her constant checking on me since she left this morning, but it’s not the face I long to see on my screen.

Regina wants me to meet her, go to a meeting. I really don’t want to, I’m in no mood for cheering up. I prefer to stay home and sulk with my good friends Ben and Jerry. But she’s worried about me and that, in turn, means she won’t take no for an answer. She’s relentless until I finally agree, and in all honesty, I do it just to shut her up. I don’t think I need a meeting, but I agree to go anyway because I know she won’t sleep tonight if I don’t.

***

Grief counseling meetings are sort of like AA meetings. People come and go, some losing their battle to move past their grief, others succeeding in their efforts and sharing their stories. Regina and I attended meetings in the basement of this community center for more than ten years. For years I attended three times a week, never sharing my story with anyone, but listening to people helped me…knowing I wasn’t alone in my battle. It’s where I met Regina.

Her husband was killed in a horrific accident, where the driver was under the influence and the passenger was severely injured. Unfortunately, her husband was the driver and she was the passenger. So many people tried to help me over the years, but it was Regina who I finally connected with. We were both racked with guilt and shame, spending all our energy trying to forget what happened in our lives. She helped me take baby steps forward when I thought I needed to run backwards.

I recognize a few faces as we take our seats in the back row, some have been here for ten years like us, for others it may be their first time. Anyone can share their story, there’s supposed to be no judgment between members. After ten minutes, I start to relax. As much as I hate to admit it, Regina was right for bringing me here. The past few days have opened up old wounds, and there is comfort in hearing the leader’s kind words on forgiveness. It also makes me think I did the right thing with Nico, even if he doesn’t recognize it. I’d rather him heal and hate me than suffer and stand by my side.

The usual group leader announces a new member would like to speak. We’re reminded of the phone’s off rule, and I’m still digging in my disorganized bag in search of my phone when the voice hits me. I know it’s him, but when I look up I still can’t believe what my eyes are seeing. He doesn’t look up as he speaks quietly.

“A smart woman told me to come here months ago...but I was too stubborn to listen.”

Nico inhales deeply, pushing a loud breath out before he begins, his face still looking down.

“Eighteen months ago I killed a man. I didn’t intend to, but it happened anyway. I’m a fighter and it happened in the cage. The ref ruled it a clean hit, but it doesn’t change that it was my hand that dealt him the blow that killed him.

I’ve spent the last year of my life under a cloud of guilt and shame. I went on, going through the motions every day, but I was dead too. I grieved for the loss of the man, and the loss of who I was. For a whole year. A year of my life that I can’t get back. But it wasn’t until today that I realized I even lost it.”

Nico pauses and I hold my breath as I watch his head slowly rise. His eyes find mine instantly, just like every other time. Everything else in the room disappears and it’s as if we’re the only two in a long tunnel, sitting on opposites ends, but inexplicably drawn to each other.

“Then today I was given a gift. A gift by an amazing woman. She gave me the gift of forgiveness because I thought that was what I needed to move on. But I was wrong. No one was keeping me from moving on, only me. She taught me more about fighting for what you want than I’d learned spending half my life in the cage. I finally get it…what makes us move on is to accept what we feel and share it.”

Nico’s voice becomes shaky and I fight the urge to go comfort him, but I can’t hold back the stream of tears that fall from my face silently.

“Today I made peace with it, Babe. And you gave that to me. I only wish there was something I could give you back that meant as much as what you did for me. But there isn’t one thing big enough to call it even. So if you’ll have me, I want to spend the next fifty or sixty years trying to repay you…saying thank you every day. Because you, lady, are all I need.”