But no matter how many times I repeated that as I lay there paralysed in bed, I couldn’t stop myself from seeing my hand wrapping around the handle of my bedroom door. The door swinging open to a hot room with dense, sticky, perfumed air, River’s legs wrapped around Niall’s hips as he fucked her, her back arching as he pinched her nipples, her throat straining as she screamed his name, not mine.

  I climbed out of bed as if it were on fire and hurried across the room after grabbing my cell phone from the nightstand. My fingers were already fumbling for Seamus’s number before I’d even closed the door behind me. My frantic, panicked breathing filled the otherwise silent hallway while I paced back and forth in the dark as I waited anxiously for Seamus to pick up. I was seconds away from tugging out my hair when the dial tone stopped.

  “Jaysus fuck, Declan, it’s past three in the mornin’,” he complained. “I was dead asleep you ass—”

  “Yes,” I whispered hurriedly.

  “Yes what?” Seamus asked. “Yes you’re an asshole? That wasn’t a question, asshole.”

  I cupped my hand over the receiver so as not to wake River and quickly glanced back at my bedroom door. It remained closed and still. “Yes to what we talked about in the hospital,” I said in a low, hushed voice. “I want to fight.”

  It wasn’t what I wanted to say. I wanted to say, “I need to fight. I need it like air, I need it like goddamn oxygen.’

  “Now yer suckin’ diesel,” Seamus said. “I knew yer man couldn’t have hit you that bleedin’ hard that you’d give up everything just like that.”

  Back in the hospital, Seamus had come into my room. In what I thought was a rare moment of unselfish kindness, he gave River some money to go get a drink.

  “I know how shite this all has been on ye,” he’d said to her.

  But the moment the door closed behind her, Seamus sat next to me and whispered fast, his tongue rapid in his mouth like a snake, “Don’t worry about that feckin’ doctor, Declan,” he’d said, checking the window next to the door. “There’s more than one way to get a signature to appease the federation.” He’d clamped his hand on my shoulder with a grin. “You’ll fight,” he’d hissed. “You’ll fight. I’ll see to it.”

  “Don’t.”

  The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it. The sound of it in the quiet hospital had surprised even me.

  Seamus stared at me, his eyes searching mine. “What?”

  The question wasn’t just a question; it was a challenge. I hesitated, but only for as long as it took to remember River’s smile…I wanted her to be happy. That’s all I wanted. Facing Seamus, I squared my shoulders, set my jaw, and spoke clearly and confidently. “I’m done, Seamus. I’m done.”

  He immediately stood, pacing in front of me and shaking his head. “No, no, no,” he had said. “Not when we’re this close. Not now.”

  “I’m done.”

  Seamus had then snapped his fingers and hurried back to my side.

  “Just think about it, alright?” he’d insisted. “As a favour to your old friend, eh? Just take a little while to ponder such a big decision, okay?”

  “Seamus, Riv—”

  “Just a day.” He’d stopped me with his fingers clawing into my shoulder. “Don’t decide yet. That’s all I ask ye.”

  I’d finally relented with a sigh. “Fine. One day.”

  Seamus had smiled.

  I couldn’t help but think I’d just struck a deal with the devil.

  “Consider who you are,” he’d said with a wink. “Consider what you are, Declan.”

  In the darkness of my hallway, I closed my eyes. “I’m a fighter,” I said. “I need to fight.” I breathed in deeply. “I need to win.”

  I could practically see Seamus’s smile, his white teeth between his red beard and mustache, flashing in the dark like daggers. “I’ll get you that fight with Dominic. I’ll get you your revenge, Declan.”

  I was about to end the call, my finger an inch from the red button on the screen, when I heard Seamus’s voice, harsh like clanking of shackles around my ankles, around my wrists, around my throat.

  “What about the girl?” he asked.

  Sagging against the wall in the hallway, I dragged my hand wearily over my face and sighed. It was for her good. She’d understand in the end. She would understand.

  “She doesn’t need to know,” I said and hung up.

  Careful not to make a sound, I slipped back inside my bedroom, crossed the cold floor on tiptoes, and climbed back into bed beside River. I wouldn’t be sleeping that night, that much I knew. I’d sleep once it was done—once I’d defeated Dominic, when I had my title back, once I’d earned her love. Then I could stop lying.

  Then I could sleep once more.

  I was no longer tracing Orion’s Belt along River’s back as she slept next to me. I wasn’t tracing the Big Dipper or the Little Bear either. I wasn’t tracing any constellation.

  With the pad of my finger along her smooth, cool skin, I was writing letters, tenderly, softly, gently.

  As she sighed and nestled in closer to me, so full of trust that it made my chest hurt worse than the ache in my head, I wrote across her bare back:

  I - A - M - S - O - R - R – Y

  Declan

  I was ready.

  Weeks of training later and I was finally ready. Weeks of weightlifting, push-ups, and burpees later…I was finally strong enough. Weeks of speed exercises and sprints and footwork practice later and I was finally fast enough. Weeks of sparring and film watching and strategizing later and I was finally mentally tough enough.

  I was enough.

  I was finally enough.

  Enough to beat Dominic. Enough to win back my MMA title. Enough to deserve River’s love.

  After a last light training the day before the flight to Dublin for the big fight, Seamus set up a small folding table in the centre of the cage to finalize all the details.

  “Where’s River?” I asked as I used the towel around my neck to wipe sweat from my brow after getting in one last squat set and then sat down.

  Seamus, arranging a stack of papers in front of him, didn’t look over at me as he answered nonchalantly with a wave of his hand, “Oh, she said she didn’t need to be here or something like that. I don’t know, busy with something else, I guess. Now your jet is all set to take off tomorrow morning for Dublin so we can get in a walkthrough of the stadium before dinner.” Seamus ran his finger down a checklist, clicking his tongue. “Our driver will pick you and me up at—”

  “And River,” I interjected.

  Seamus looked up at me. “Huh?”

  “And River,” I repeated with extra emphasis. “River is coming, too.”

  Seamus waved his hand at me dismissively and mumbled a “Yeah, yeah” before continuing on down the checklist.

  As he droned on about things I didn’t care about, I glanced around the empty gym and leaned back to see the light of the little office in the back already turned off.

  I frowned. “Where did you say she was?”

  Seamus smiled over at me as he slapped a piece of paper down in front of me. “Doesn’t matter where she is,” he said, jamming a finger down on the paper. “All that matters right now is this baby right here.”

  With my mind still preoccupied with River’s mysterious absence, it took Seamus’s irritated snaps in front of my nose for me to finally glance down at the single sheet of white paper on the little table between us. My eyes quickly glossed over the doctor’s note clearing me for the fight with Dominic, and I nodded.

  “Good,” I said. “I think I’m going to go find River. She should be here for this.” I pushed my chair back.

  Seamus stood and immediately blocked my path out of the cage. “Come on, sit down, alright?” He held his two hands out in front of him as if I were a wild animal he was trying to tame. “I think I deserve a bit more than ‘good’, eh?”

  I dragged my hand over my face and begrudgingly slumped back into the chair. When he sat back down across from me, I reached across and grabbed his beefy, freckled hands. “Thank you, Seamus, my darling petal, Seamus,” I mocked. “Thank you for getting this signature in a manner that I’m sure was entirely legal, I might add. I owe you my life, my everything.”

  Seamus rolled his eyes and grumbled, “That’s more bleedin’ like it.”

  He tried to pull his hands back from my grasp, but I held him tight. “I swear in this cage on this very day that in order to convey my undying gratitude, I shall name my first child after you and my second child and maybe, just maybe, thir—”

  “Alright, you fucker. Alright, alright.” Seamus wrenched his hands free and rubbed his wrists. “Before that girl came, you used to be so sulky and forlorn and far too ‘woe is me’ to joke around.” He paused to sigh dramatically. “I miss that.”

  I laughed. “Get used to it, Seamus, baby.”

  “Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, running his hand through his coarse red hair.

  I slapped my palms on the table and grinned. “We all done then?” I asked. “I have to go find River.”

  As I was again moving to leave, Seamus stopped me. “Wait, wait,” he said. “I still want to go over some last-minute breakdowns of Dominic’s surprise attacks. He’s a sneaky motherfucker and if he’s going to beat you, that’s how it’ll happen.”

  I dismissed Seamus with a wave of my hand. “I’ve watched all the films,” I explained. “I know every dirty trick in his filthy little book. I’m going to go for a quick hike with River to relax before dinner. It’s been too long.”

  Seamus lunged across the table to catch my wrist as I tried to stand. “That right hook after that jab combo of his has knocked out three competitors in the last month, Declan. We should stay focused and go over it again. Plus, we really can’t forget about that king hit. That poor kid is still in the hospital.”

  I peeled Seamus’s fingers one by one from my wrist as I clearly articulated, “One, he stole that right hook from me. Two, I’m not those fighters he knocked out. I’m Declan Fucking Gallagher. And three, king hit or not, Dominic does not scare me. Now I’m leaving.”

  I stepped around the little table set up in the centre of the cage, excited to find River and wrap her up in my arms.

  Seamus turned in his seat to call after me. “Declan, this is the very moment where we can’t have any distractions. It’s crucial we stayed focused solely on the fight and nothing or no one else. Declan!”

  “I’ll see ya, Seamus.”

  I was halfway out of the cage when Seamus shouted once more, “River doesn’t want to go!”

  I didn’t think that anything he had to say at that point would stop me from running to those sweet lips and gentle arms, but I immediately froze. Glancing back over my shoulder, I stared in confusion at him. “What?” I asked, my voice barely recognisable to me.

  Seamus sighed and rested his elbows on the table to bury his face in his hands. “I hadn’t wanted to tell you like this, Declan,” he mumbled. “I really hadn’t.”

  My feet felt like lead as I moved back toward the table and sat rigidly in the chair. I narrowed my eyes at Seamus. “What do you mean she doesn’t want to go?”

  Leaning back in his chair, Seamus shook his head. “I shouldn’t even have told you,” he said. “This was a mista—”

  “River hasn’t told me anything,” I interrupted.

  “And she’s not going to,” Seamus interlaced his fingers and placed them behind his neck. “She knows how it would upset you.”

  “Upset me?” I blinked as I searched the little table for answers I couldn’t find. “She can tell me anything. She knows that…” She knew that, right?

  “This life just isn’t for her,” Seamus said. “The media. The fame. The violence.”

  I glanced up at Seamus. “She said this to you?” I asked in a soft voice, almost afraid to even ask the question.

  Seamus nodded. “She said she had to tell someone.” He shrugged. “And, well, she couldn’t tell you.”

  Had I pressured her without knowing it? I’d wanted her to go with me, of course I had. She was the only person who could calm me and I wanted that, needed that, before my fight. In her presence, there was stillness. Waves could crash around me, winds whip around me, lightning strike on every horizon, but one touch from her soft hand, and there was stillness, silence, peace.

  “Declan, we can’t change who we are,” Seamus said in a low voice, reaching over to pat my shoulder. “You know this more than most.”

  No, I thought. No, I didn’t. I thought I had changed. I thought I had become kinder, gentler, more selfless. I really thought I had changed, changed because of her.

  Because of River.

  “You’re a fighter and you’ll always be a fighter,” Seamus continued. “You have brutality in your blood, anger in your heart, violence in your soul.”

  Not with River. Not with her arms around me.

  “You need the cage, my friend. You need it like oxygen,” he whispered. “You need to fight.”

  No, no, no... I needed her. I needed her.

  “At least that’s what she said,” Seamus concluded.

  Did River not know I needed her? Did she not believe I’d changed? Did she not trust I could ever be anything more than a fighter?

  “What do I do?” I asked, my voice the voice of a child.

  Seamus crossed his arms over his chest. “She’ll never admit she said any of this, that’s for sure,” he started. “But if you love her, I’d think you’d find a way to give her what she truly wants.”

  To stay. She wants to stay.

  I wanted her to go, to be by my side, but more than that, I wanted her to be happy. That’s truly what I wanted.

  “I mean, that’s just my opinion, of course,” Seamus said. “But what do I know? Bring her with if you wan—”

  “No.”

  Seamus raised his bushy red eyebrow. “What was that?”

  “She’ll stay.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, staring up at me as I stood, numb. I felt his eyes on me as I moved toward the cage door. “Declan, are you sure?”

  “She’ll stay.”

  I would go alone.

  Alone in the dark.

  Again, alone in the dark.

  River

  In the dim light of my bedroom lamp, I wiped my sweaty brow and squeezed at the pinch in my side.

  No, I hadn’t just returned from a long hike through the forest.

  I wasn’t practicing the combos Declan taught me while we trained together in the cage.

  It wasn’t even particularly hot in my room that night as a cool breeze carrying the first scent of spring blossoms swept in through the windows.

  It was the suitcase stuffed to the brim on the end of my bed that caused me to huff and heave and reach for my deodorant.

  I’d jumped on it, stomped on it, sat on it, squished my knees and then my elbows into it and no matter what I tried, I couldn’t quite seem to tug that pesky zipper closed.

  Knowing how stressed Declan would be before the big fight in Dublin, I’d wanted to pack everything I could to help him relax. I’d raided Oisin’s herb garden to make calming teas, I’d ordered several essential oils to rub along his tense shoulders and neck, I’d gathered up fuzzy socks and a photobook of our hikes through the peaceful trees and noise-cancelling headphones. Grunting the whole while, I’d attempted to stuff my acupuncture set, two yoga mats, and a set of chakra quartz bowls. Anything and everything I wanted to bring to Dublin to keep Declan in the right headspace.

  I knew the risk if he wasn’t.

  I was straddling the suitcase, face red and muscles strained as a long string of curse words tumbled out from between my lips when a knock at my open door made me look up from my failed efforts.

  “Thank goodness you’re here,” I exhaled with a relieved smile as Declan stepped inside. “Can you please close this for me?”

  I rolled off the suitcase and collapsed on my sheets next to it. I was pushing my damp curls off my forehead when Declan came to stand next to the bed. I barely noticed his hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders slumped forward as my mind ran wild with my potential packing list.

  “I debated back and forth on bringing the bath salts I made with that orange zest you like so much,” I babbled. “Do you think we’ll have time to soak before the fight?”

  Nerves of my own taking over, I interrupted Declan before he could even answer.

  “I obviously can’t take a whole massage table, but I thought I could bring some sweet mint oils,” I continued.

  “River—”

  “I mean we can’t take the whole massage table, right?” I shook my head. “No, no, we can’t. I mean, unless—”

  “River—”

  “Maybe if there’s room, we can consider it then.”

  When Declan remained unmoving above me, I nodded my head toward the suitcase. “Do you mind?” I asked. “Alright, so how do you feel about my famous blueberry pan…”

  I frowned slightly as I noticed Declan’s fingers paused on the zipper. I looked up to see him biting his lower lip. “What?” I asked. “Is it too full? Is it not going to fit?”

  Concern grew in my chest when Declan continued to awkwardly avoid eye contact with me, and I quickly sat up. “Declan…” I reached for his hand. “Declan, what’s wrong?” I scooted back on my bed and pulled him gently toward me.

  With a sigh, he sat down at the very edge of the mattress.

  “Declan, you’re scaring me,” I whispered.

  “River…” Declan’s eyes flashed over to me before he rubbed at his temples and rested his chin on his chest. “River, I think you should stay.”

  I dropped his hand in surprise. “Stay?”

  As I watched Declan’s downturned face with wide, panicked eyes, I sensed turmoil and uncertainty as he searched for his next words to me. “You distract me, baby,” he finally said softly, glancing over at me.

 

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