He clutches one of my hands, bringing it from his chest to his lips and kissing the back of it while looking deep into my eyes. I’m sure he can see all the shit I’ve been through the past few weeks. We read each other like open books. I feel his pain pouring down on the floor in waves.
"I'm not done being mad at you," he says.
My heart sinks. "I'm not done being mad at you either," I retort.
He shifts his gaze to his mother for the first time, looking at her, but talking to me. “She kicked me out of the house and stole my money three years ago."
“And she’s your mother and wants to start fresh now.” I swallow my anger at Mary.
My body melts into his, and I need to stop this before we kiss. I can’t take him back. Not here, not now. Plus, his mother is standing next to us, so grinding each other like rabbits seems like a fairly bad idea. I drop my forehead to his chest and feel his heart thump beneath my cheek.
"Do you want to talk?" I ask.
"Not right now," he says, and I could crack and break into a million pieces on his threshold. "I have to focus on getting better, and hopefully, on winning this fight."
I lift my head, remembering the conversation with Cameron.
Athletes are wired differently. He needs this win. He needs his space.
It was like that before the Eoghan Doherty fight, and it's like that right now.
"Okay. Good luck." I try to smile at him. "You know where to find me."
He nods wordlessly, which makes my heart split in two.
When I reach my car, I peek over my shoulder to see Ty still holding the door ajar for his mother. She limps into his place, but before she enters the house completely, stops and looks him in the eyes. I can’t read their expressions from this distance, but I hope they can work it out. I hope she can be there for him when he picks up the pieces and rebuilds himself.
And I hope Ty and I can get over ourselves and do the same one day.
Chapter Twenty
November 10th.
It’s almost time for Ty’s fight. This is the date when he’s scheduled to walk into the Vegas cage and face the biggest challenge of his career, the biggest fight of the year.
The past three months have gone by excruciatingly slowly without him. Days melded into each other, sticking together like glued chunks of paper in a new book. I offer myself the dumbest excuses for Ty not contacting me. He doesn’t have my new phone number. He’s busy preparing for his fight with Jesus Vasquez. He’s waiting for our anger to blow over. Or maybe he still hasn’t gotten out of his binge-drinking phase.
No. I know that’s not true. I know for a fact that he’s doing better.
Mary visits Ty every weekend. She takes two buses to get to his house. She cleans, cooks and yells at him that he’s an unbearable slob. (A bit rich coming from her, I know.) She rants when she washes his dishes and cusses at him when she does his laundry. But she’s taking care of him, and I know that because I talk to her whenever I can.
Mary never brings up the subject of my relationship with Ty, and I never volunteer anything about how I’m feeling.
Career-wise, I'm doing better. Or at least I’m doing better than Shane, who continuously reports to me about his days serving coffee and being bossed around by people who are only slightly older than us.
Me, I spend the first week at my new job sitting in front of a dead computer (the tech guy didn’t have time to sort it out before my arrival) and trying not to cry out loud. I miss Ned’s so much. But then at the start of week two, when I stare at the black screen like an idiot through blurry eyes, I feel a hand resting on my shoulder. I look up and see Cam's knowing smile.
“Don’t worry about it. I know what it’s like to leave a safe job. I was a butcher at my local big box store all through high school. Out of state tuition fee.”
I duck my head in embarrassment, annoyed that he’s seen me cry. “Where are you from?” I sniff.
“Promise you won’t laugh.”
I shake my head. “I can’t do that. I suck at hiding my feelings.” I point at a damp trail on my cheek left by one of my tears to prove the point.
“Fair enough.” He offers me his hand and when I grab it, he yanks me up so he can go and have a smoke. “Arkansas. I’d barely left the state before I came here for school.”
I laugh, of course I do, because it's so out of the blue.