44. Jude
44
jude
“ I ’d like to think my anxiety is protecting me,” I told Dr. Deborah.
After a rough night, I eventually relented to let the doctor give me Ativan and melatonin so I could rest. Dr. Deborah met me in my hotel room first thing in the morning. I was emotionally and physically wrung out, and I had to get my head on straight. The fight was tomorrow, and I wasn’t about to let this wreck me.
“Our fight-or-flight response is there to protect us,” Dr. Deborah confirmed, leaning over her notepad where she sat on the hotel couch. I sat across from her, shoveling my high protein plate of eggs and sausage into my mouth. I barely tasted it, only eating it because I had to fuel my body. “But we also need to remember to not let that control us, to find grounding in the heat of the moment.”
“Alex was there to try and help me snap out of it, and I did my breathing technique.”
“Did you do your six senses protocol?”
I shook my head. “The panic attack took over. All I could think about was that I needed Romy and I needed to breathe. But I’m thinking more than anything, my psyche is just spent as much as my body is. This job has done more than ruin my knee.”
“How do you feel about that?”
I scoffed. There she was, asking me how I felt again. I was starting to get used to it, but sometimes that simple question still got under my skin.
“I feel like I’m okay with that. I’m done fighting. I’ve realized there are other things worth fighting for, and this isn’t it. I left home twelve years ago with a broken heart, feeling as though I had to go out and do something great, make money to prove to everyone that I was worth a shit. When really, I never needed to do that. I just needed to prove to myself that I was enough. Enough to be loved, to be wanted, to be needed.”
“You feel like you’re enough now?”
I took a bite of egg, mulling the question around while I chewed. I couldn’t give an affirmative, but I was beginning to realize it.
“My mom was pretty shitty to just walk away from a three-year-old and never look back. But if she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have gotten the love I deserved. My uncle did it in his own way, teaching me how to work a ranch and instilling in me a strong work ethic. It might not have been the squishy, affectionate kind of love, but he always poured his time and patience into raising my cousin and me. Even caring for Romy.
“Romy … well, she has shown me a fierce, passionate kind of love that burns me to the core and raises me up. I want nothing more than to show her she is worthy of just as grand a love because that’s what she has done for me. I’d do anything for her.”
“Are you retiring because of her?”
I sucked the inside of my cheek, considering. “Yes and no. I’m doing this for us, and for me. I want a life with her, I want a family, and I want to start that life in the one place that feels more like home than any other.”
“Oregon?”
I nodded. “I’m tired of dodging destiny. After this fight, I’m finished. I’m going home, and I’m going to make that woman my wife.”
“Phone. Now.” I didn’t mean for it to come out a growl, but as soon as Jessica and Alex walked into my suite, I was done being coddled.
I was ready to get this show on the road and start my forever.
And it started with me calling Romy and finished with me retiring from the organization.
“It was for the best,” Jessica explained. “The press was trying to get ahold of you all night. I’ll warn you, it may still be ringing off the hook. If there are any numbers you don’t recognize, ignore them.”
“Fine. Just give me my phone.” I held out my hand to her.
But Alex had it in his back pocket, and he pulled it out to hand it to me. I raised an eyebrow to him, but he only gave me a sheepish look.
Sighing, I took my phone and turned it back on. It immediately started vibrating in my hand as notification after notification came through. Many of them were numbers I didn’t recognize—press. But a half dozen of them were calls and texts from Romy.
My stomach immediately dropped.
I scrolled through my notifications. Another few were from Uncle Chuck and Lina.
Something was wrong.
“I thought you were going to call Romy,” I accused Alex.
He was still wearing that look. “We were trying to make sure you were okay, and Jessica and I were attempting to detour questions. I’m sorry, man.”
I ran my hand over my mouth. Romy was probably pissed at me. Why did Uncle Chuck and Lina call so many times?
“Give me a few minutes. I’ll meet you in the lobby, Alex.” I dismissed them both, heading over to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Um … do you want me to stay?” Jessica asked.
I glanced at her. She stood there, biting her lip, looking a little unsure. Her eyes shone with affection and what I recognized as desire, but I didn’t care what she was feeling or what she wanted from me. There was never going to be an “us.” I didn’t want Jessica. I wanted Romy, and it appeared, based on the number of missed texts, she wanted me, too.
I shook my head. “I’m good.”
Jessica and Alex said their goodbyes and headed out. I waited to hear the electronic click of the door closing before dialing Romy.
It rang and rang and rang. When she didn’t pick up, I tapped on Lina’s contact.
One ring.
“Oh my God, Jude, where the fuck have you been? We’ve been trying to reach you.”
I grimaced. “I’m so sorry. I should have called sooner. I was getting inundated by press calls and had to shut off my phone.” I didn’t want to worry them more by telling her about my panic attack. There was nothing anyone could do back at the ranch. “That’s my bad, though. I should have at least texted to let you know that I needed to turn it off.”
“We saw the press conference.”
I adjusted the bill of my hat. “That was a shit show.”
“But you shut that shit down!”
“I did?” I chuckled. Maybe my answers came across differently than they had in my head.
“Yeah, you said everything perfectly. I couldn’t have answered all those questions without clamming up. But you did it! I’m so proud of you, cuz. That Reyes guy is a fucking asshole. I hope you beat the living shit out of him.”
I laughed, feeling the anxiety drain from my shoulders.
“Did Romy watch it?”
There was a beat of silence before she said, “I think so. She didn’t say anything about it, though.”
I hoped she wasn’t mad at me for something I said. The panic attack hangover left everything a blur.
“Is everything okay at the ranch?” I asked, still wondering why I had missed so many calls last night.
Lina puffed a breath through the phone. Oh, God. It must be bad.
“Well, you’re not going to believe what Frank Miller decided to do for fun last night. Or maybe you will.”
“What did that piece of shit do?” That man was a fucking menace, and Romy didn’t deserve such a shitty father. It made me all the more thankful for Uncle Chuck and how he took the Miller girls in. My uncle was truly a saint. A single dad, raising his nephew, and still making sure Romy and Hazel had a place to escape to. Not to mention raising a fucking cool daughter.
“He let the fucking horses out! We spent most of the night corralling them.”
“What the fuck? Why would he do that?”
I could almost hear Lina’s shrug. “A drunken temper tantrum because no one is paying attention to him. Who the fuck knows?”
“Please, tell me your dad called the cops?”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m pretty sure he’s still sleeping it off in the drunk tank.”
I rubbed my brow. I needed to be home helping, not sitting in this Vegas hotel room. “Horses okay?”
“Yeah, everyone is accounted for. A few shoes thrown. But we’re all taking the day off while the vet and farrier get everyone right as rain. Romy, Sage, and I are having a movie day before she goes to visit her sister. After last night, we all need some serious downtime.”
“She’s going to go talk to Hazel?” I wasn’t expecting that, not when tomorrow was the hearing. My chest hurt, knowing that Romy was having to deal with that without me.
“Yeah, but don’t worry. I’m going with her.”
“Who said I’m worrying?”
“I can practically hear you flipping that hat of yours from here.”
I hadn’t even realized it, but I had just flipped it. I adjusted the bill, settling it back on my head. “Okay, you got me there. Are you going to the hearing tomorrow, too?”
“No, I’m going to hold down the fort, but Dad and I wrote character letters. He’s going to present them to the judge.”
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Okay. Can you ask Romy to call me after she sees her sister? I have my weigh-in this afternoon, but my phone will be on me from now on.”
“Sure thing, cuz.”
“Thank you. Tell Uncle Chuck that I’ll give him a call, too.”
“I will. Don’t worry about a thing. Focus on your fight. We got it all handled here.”
The thing was, I didn’t think it was all handled because no matter how many texts I shot Romy, she left them all unread.
I sat on the bed, obsessively scrolling through my missed calls, landing on one answered call at 10:24 p.m. last night.
Someone answered Romy’s call.
“The car’s downstairs,” Jessica announced, entering the suite.
I checked the time. Weigh-ins were in less than an hour.
“Did you answer Romy’s call last night?” I asked, not looking up from the call log.
Silence.
I glanced up; Jessica lifted her chin. “I did. I wanted her to know you were okay so she wouldn’t worry.”
“What the fuck? Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
“Honestly, I think it’s the last thing you should be focused on. You should have your head on straight for this fight, not distracted by some girl back home.”
“She’s not some girl , Jessica. What the fuck did you say to her?”
“Nothing.” Her word was clipped, pulling up our itinerary on her iPad. “Now as soon as the weigh-ins are done, I’ve scheduled you for a massage and ordered you a pasta dinner.”
“What. Did. You. Fucking. Say to her?” I asked, slowly emphasizing each word.
“Truly, nothing. I told her you were in the shower and asked if she wanted me to take a message. She said no. That was the end of the conversation.”
“Are you fucking shitting me? You told her I was in the shower like you were here in the damn room with me?” Knowing Romy, she was now spiraling, letting her temper mask her hurt and searching for an exit plan. No wonder she wasn’t getting back to me.
“Yeah. What’s the problem with that?” she asked, now crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“You know how that looks, Jess.” I leveled her with a stern look.
“Who cares how that looks? I was doing my job last night, and that job was taking care of you. If she got the wrong impression, that’s on her. You need me, Jude. So let me do my job, and let me be there for you.”
I shook my head. “That was always the problem with us. We should have never mixed business with pleasure. The lines blurred, and our relationship was as much a part of your job as it was managing my promotion schedule. We wanted different things. I wanted a family, a real life outside of fighting, but your career was more important—and that’s fine. We can want different things, but I hope to God you didn’t purposely sabotage my relationship with the only woman I ever loved because you’re now having second thoughts.”
“Jude, you have to know that I will always care about you. And you’re right … we were always on two different pages. But maybe seeing you yesterday, wrecked, made me doubt why we broke up. I’ve missed you, and I’m not sure I can still handle your public relations if it means not being with you, too.”
I sucked in a breath through my nose, holding it for a count of three and then releasing. She was right. She couldn’t be my publicist anymore. I nodded, agreeing. “You’re right. I think after this fight, we need to go our separate ways. I’m done after this, Jessica.”
“Jude—”
I held out a hand to stop her. “After this fight, I’m not sure I’m going to need a publicist anymore, and if I do, I’ll find another one.” I pushed myself off my knees and to my feet. “Let’s get this weigh-in over with so I can go eat some fucking spaghetti.”
She gave my arm a tentative squeeze as I passed her to the door, but I didn’t turn to respond, only letting her follow me in my wake.