Chapter 6
Rainey
The gym is emptier than usual. They cleared it so Max can train.
I sit on the bench and watch him in the ring.
Pulling out my phone, I scroll through some of my social media accounts.
My smile grows when I come across Lana’s post of her date night with the guy her dad set her up with.
Now I’m still speechless. Lana’s father wanted to arrange a marriage.
She told her father she would see him as a friend and see how it goes.
He agreed. The guy in the photo he tagged her in is a handsome older man.
He smiles at her with teeth and all, while Lana has a drunk grin on her lips.
Her blue eyes sparkle in the light. She hasn’t spoken about her mystery man in a while. Maybe she moved on.
A laugh that annoys the shit out of me has me lift my head.
Annette walks out freshly showered from the women’s locker room in spandex shorts and a matching sports bra.
She’s on the list of people I can’t stand.
In no way does it have anything to do with jealousy because I’m not.
Not anymore, at least. The woman has no class or respect.
She acts like she’s all that and a bag of salty chips.
Her gaze still lingers on Max, knowing he told her off and ignored her.
Annette gives him the “fuck me” eyes as often as she can.
Like now, her gaze rolls over Max’s sweaty body as he spars with Xander in the ring and Carlos at his side.
She then turns to look at me. Annette smirks, her gaze once again moves to Max, and she gives me a pitying look.
Does she know about what happened to me?
Unfortunately, Max said he can’t get rid of her since it’s Carlos’s gym and Carlos is training her as well.
I ignore her—she’s a dumb, thirsty bitch.
From the look of it, she thinks she’ll have him.
Carlos steps out of the ring and walks toward me.
“Rainey, how are you doing?” he asks. I hadn’t seen Carlos since the cookout he had invited us to before the accident.
Right now, he seems different. I can’t pinpoint the emotion radiating from him, since I don’t know him well enough.
One thing is, he doesn’t look pleased by the straight line on his lips.
“Carlos, I’m doing good. How have you been? How’s Nessa?” I ask as his arm goes over my shoulder in a friendly hug.
“Nessa is doing wonderful. She’s happy you’re doing better. You gave us quite a scare. We tried to visit you at the hospital, but Max said it wouldn’t be a good time.”
I nod because it really wasn’t. “Thank you for showing up. I appreciate it.” My gaze goes to Max, leaning against the ropes, trying to catch his breath while listening to what Xander says. “Are you ready for this weekend—the fight?” I ask.
Carlos rubs his peppered stubble on his chin. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He gestures toward his office, and I follow suit, worried. Is Max not ready? Is this what he needs to talk about? Surely he is.
“Is everything okay?” I question when he shuts the door.
“Yes,” he says, seeming nervous, running his fingers through his hair. “Umm, Rainey. You know Max has been working his ass off for years.”
“Yes, he has. I agree.”
“Good. I’m not going to beat around the bush. Max doesn’t need this right now.” He juts his head toward me.
Me. Max doesn’t need me.
I tilt my head, confused. “What are you implying?”
Carlos exhales, his hand moving to the gray stubble on his face.
“You’re going through so much. Max didn’t train for weeks because he’s worried about you.
I’m genuinely sorry for what your family didn’t tell you.
And regaining your memory must be difficult.
Max is in the prime of his life. If he wins this fight, others will challenge him. He doesn’t need the distraction.”
I’m a distraction. He’s not wrong. For weeks, I knew I was a trigger to his past. He didn’t need my baggage. I had stopped fighting the truth of it. I could never leave him. We went through hell to be together. I planned on opening up to him after his fight, but now—
“I think giving him space so you can work on your mental health would help both of you. He needs to work on his dreams, which he’s worked so hard for. You’re holding him back.”
The noose around my chest tightens. I’m the trigger. Maybe he’s right. Would he do better without me? Am I holding him back?
“He was so close to canceling the fight.” My voice catches, thin and brittle. “He told me he wanted to, but then I…I convinced him otherwise.”
“See. I think it would be best if you split up.” He rubs his chin, then looks away. “Max is like a son to me. I know he loves you, but if you love him, you’ll do what’s best for him after this fight. So he can work on the next one.”
If you love him, let him go. Those words echo in my head. I’m speechless. He’s telling me all this, but he’s not wrong. He’s Carlos—Max’s father in every way that matters. Of course, he’s looking out for him.
“I do love him,” I finally say, my hands trembling despite myself. “I’m supportive of anything he does. It has been hard for him to see me go through so many changes as it is for me—”
“Then you understand what I’m talking about. They dragged Max through the mud for years until he found the boxing gym, and I taught him everything I know.”
Through the office window, I see Max’s dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, his shoulders tensing as he dodges a right hook.
Xander stumbles forward, off-balance, and Max exploits with a swift uppercut, making Coach Bliss slam his palm against the ring rope, hollering something I can’t hear through the glass.
Sportscasters and internet influencers have been buzzing about Max for weeks now.
He’s scheduled for an interview tomorrow, which he’s not looking forward to.
He’s not one for attention. After this fight, I have faith that he’ll win—the media will be all over him.
Carlos is a well-known boxer, and now, with Max, he will be a renowned trainer.
Max will go places. He’s come this far already.
Carlos’s sharp words ring louder. “They dragged him through the mud.” Does “they” mean me? Am I included among those who caused harm?
“You’ve seen those scars on his back,” Carlos adds, and the words land somewhere I won’t recover from quickly.
And there it is. I have my answer.
I press my lips into a straight line. “I have,” I respond in a low voice.
The door swings open. Max has always been able to read me. His gaze goes to me, then to Carlos. He frowns when he studies my face. I feel every ounce of blood drop to my toes, leaving me lightheaded.
“Is everything okay, tesoro?”
Before I can answer, Carlos does. “Everything is good. Rainey and I were talking about how ready we are for the fight this weekend, and I was also telling her how happy we are that she’s healing.” He smiles—the smile of someone who has just decided something on your behalf. “Isn’t that right?”
Even if I told him, Carlos would deny it. And part of me knows it wouldn’t matter. Because Carlos is right. I hate that I agree with him. I’m holding Max back, and he deserves the best.
“Yes, we’re excited about your big day, honey.” My voice comes out raspy. I swallow everything down.
Max’s gaze is still on me. Studying me. “I’m asking my girl. Is everything okay?” The green of his irises shifts, deepening like pine needles in shadow.
“Yes, everything is fine,” I lie. Reaching for him, I cup his sweaty face and kiss his lips. “I’m just worried. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” That much is true.
His eyes soften. “Everything will be fine. If it’s too much, you can wait in the back for me.”
With my thumb, I rub the crease between his brows. “I wouldn’t miss you kicking ass, champ.”
That earns me a grin, and my heart cracks at the sight of it. I love this man more than I’ve ever loved anyone in a lifetime. I know I’ll never find someone who will love me the way he has.
But he will find someone deserving.
The night we left the gym, I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted metal.
Two days until the fight. Max couldn’t afford distractions now.
I’ve gotten good at swallowing pain. At wearing a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes while something inside me quietly collapses. I haven’t been to the gym since then.
With every kiss he gives me, I wonder if it will be the last. My body always reacts to him like it’s desperate for every brush of his lips on my skin.
Last night, his tongue traced every curve of me until he opened my thighs.
My back arched like a bow drawn taut. That’s the one thing I can’t fake—how much I want every part of him.
The look on his face as I pleasure him with my mouth is always my favorite, knowing I’m the one drawing those sounds from him.
His body moves into mine like he has all the time in the world, and I hold on like I know we don’t.
We come together, and for a moment, nothing else exists.
Max whispers sweet nothings and falls into a deep sleep.
I lay staring at the ceiling, Carlos’s words circling.
“If you love him, let him go. He doesn’t need baggage.
Have you seen his scars? You need to work on yourself.
” Somewhere between the dark and the dawn, sleep finally took me.
Dreaming of Max holding a baby girl in his arms and a small boy climbing his long legs.
His face held an expression I had never seen on him before.
Pure, uncomplicated joy. My heart swelled and then split clean open.
The woman running to him wasn’t me. Her face was blurry, but that body didn’t belong to me.
I woke up sick to my stomach, knowing he’d bear kids with another woman.
I vomited until there was nothing left. Luckily, Max had left for his morning run.
“?Qué tienes?” Isabella asks, bringing a hot cup of coffee to her mouth.