Worth the fight

Chapter 32

Elle

Max is excited to go back to see Nico after the fight. He’s invited Vinny and the two of them are reenacting the fight, throwing air punches at each other as we make our way to the hall of the arena. There are more fights going on after Nico’s, but I don’t want to stay to watch them and the boys are anxious to see their role model anyway.

We show our backstage pass to the security guard, who looks like he should be in the cage instead of checking IDs. The boys are brimming with pride that we have backstage access and they wear their tags around their necks proudly. We follow the directions the security guard gave us down a flight of stairs and a series of long hallways. We’re underneath the building and there is a bevy of fighters, trainers, and advertising people milling around. There’s also more than a few groupie-looking-type women, each has less clothes on than the next. Vinny seems to recognize all the fighters and recites their statistics as they pass. The kid is a walking encyclopedia on the who’s who in MMA fighting.

Eventually Room 153 comes into sight, where we were told Nico would be. The door is ajar and there’s loud voices coming from its direction. As we get closer, I recognize the loud voice is Preach and he’s not just speaking loudly, he’s screaming like a madman.

“I thought we were past this shit! You told me you were ready. You’re not fucking ready. I got your body ready, but only you know what’s in that thick skull of yours…”

I’m stopped outside the door listening, basically eavesdropping when I remember the boys are hearing it all too. “You two.” I rummage in my purse and pull out a twenty-dollar bill. “Go back up and buy some pretzels and watch the next fight. Come back when it’s over.” Max starts to respond and complain and I hit him with the big sister death stare and point a finger back in the direction we just came from. “Now.”

Vinny nudges my stepbrother, “Come on man,” and the two begrudgingly turn to leave. Vinny’s a smart kid, he quickly knows which battles to fight and which he will never win. He’ll do okay in life.

Now that I’ve sent the boys away, I’m not sure what to do. Preach is still yelling and I haven’t heard Nico say one word yet. Part of me feels like I shouldn’t interrupt, but another part of me has the urge to go in and protect Nico. I knew something was off, but he won damn it, he doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. The lioness in me wins out and I knock on the door once and then enter the room without waiting for a response.

Nico is sitting on a bench with his head in his hands looking down. His posture reminds me of a child that’s getting scolded. It’s defeated and disappointed. He doesn’t look up when I enter, but Preach quiets momentarily and turns to me.

“Maybe you can talk some sense into his thick skull.” Preach throws the towel he was holding on the floor and stalks out of the room, slamming the door as the exclamation point to end his final departing rant.

I wait a few seconds, long seconds where I actually hear the clock on the wall ticking behind me, but Nico still doesn’t acknowledge me. He hasn’t moved. So I take a deep breath and walk to him, stopping in front of the bench where he sits. I slowly reach down and put my hands on his shoulders. I’m unsure of what to say, but I want to comfort him somehow.

Gently, I glide my fingers back and forth over his warm skin in what I hope is a soothing motion. His shoulders untense slightly at my touch. “Are you okay?” My words are barely above a whisper.

Nico shakes his head. No.

“Are you physically hurt? Can I get you anything?”

Again, only a headshake no in response.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Yet another shake of the head.

I stand there for a few more minutes, quietly, my hands on his shoulders and him with his head still bowed. It’s the longest I’ve been near him without him touching me. He’s right in front of me, but he’s light years away. I want to help him so badly, need to make him feel better. But he still hasn’t looked at me or spoken. I kneel down in front of him and fold my hands around his clasped ones and look up at his face. I’m so close, he can’t avoid me anymore. He tilts his head up slightly and his eyes lift to mine. What I find looking back at me breaks my heart into a million little pieces. My normally strong, confident man’s eyes are filled with unshed tears and he looks…broken. Scared. Sad. His face is filled with anguish as he looks at me. He still doesn’t speak, but his eyes say it all.

I hear voices from the door and then there’s a knock before Vinny and Max enter the room. I turn away for a split second to look at the boys and when I turn back to Nico the emotion on his face is gone. Replaced by a stony façade that I’ve never seen before.

“Get the boys out of here.” A stern voice I don’t expect to hear commands, taking me by surprise. It’s cold and distant and it startles me to hear such a tone in Nico’s voice. So much so that I look up at his face with my brow furrowed, confused, as if the words he just spoke were foreign. But if his intentions weren’t clear the first time he speaks, there’s no mistaking them the second. “Go home, Elle.”

It takes me hours to fall asleep and when I finally do, I toss and turn all night restlessly. I can’t get the look on Nico’s face, when I kneeled before him, out of my head. It’s one I’m all too familiar with. Sorrow. Shame. Self-loathing. That moment comes back to haunt you when you least expect it. Just when you think you’ve finally found a way to bury it somewhere deep inside yourself, it rears its ugly head and then you’re back to square one. Back to relive the pain. The regret. The guilt. And the healing has to start all over again.