Chapter 13
Thirteen
Val
The scent of cardboard and old dust was the perfume of my impending freedom.
My entire house was now a war zone of half-packed boxes and trash bags full of discarded memories I couldn’t wait to forget.
Each item I touched that contained memories James and I shared felt heavy, not just with its own weight, but with the weight of everything I was desperate to leave behind.
Colorado.
It still sounded unreal, a destination on a postcard rather than my soon to be reality.
I smoothed my hand over the slightly worn cover of an MMA magazine Mark had given me.
I should have probably thrown it in the trash, but I tossed it into a box with the rest of my books.
That was the core of it, really. The reason for the upheaval, the cross-country leap into the unknown.
Fighting had taken over my life and I hoped the gym that coach worked in would be willing to take on a new member.
While part of me felt like I should have been searching for a female trainer, there was something about the coach I had seen on TV.
I couldn’t stop thinking about getting out of here and moving there from the moment I had seen that match the first time, and now it was streaming everywhere.
I picked up a framed photo of Summer and I from the night she colored my hair.
Our faces were bright with the invincibility and unwillingness of letting just any man boss us around and tell us what we could and couldn’t do with our hair.
Leaving her was the hardest part. The absolute hardest. More than leaving my past, more than leaving the wreckage of him.
She was my anchor, my constant companion even if we went weeks without seeing each other.
Who would I call at 3 AM when the world felt like too much? Well, I suppose I would still call her. But who would show up with ice cream and bad movies after a brutal training session? That was it. That was the part.
The thoughts of James and Mark were both still raw in my mind. The image of their faces, the almost imperceptible deepening of Mark’s voice as he whispered, “Now I’ve got you where I want you,” flashed through my mind.
This most recent memory wasn’t just the physical violation, the unexpected lurch of his body against mine, the throbbing package I had felt pressed against me. It was the calculated cruelty and the quiet power play.
Suddenly, it hit me. Mark saw me as something to be had and something to be broken.
I had enough.
He knew what I had been through with James and he took advantage of my vulnerability and in turn tried to convince me of things which were simply not true.
I wanted to hate him for it. In the final moment between Mark and I, I was angry.
Frustration simmered and a new fear began to form, it was the first time it had happened since James.
His name was a bitter taste in my mouth. Then Mark, with his casual disregard, had torn open a wound I thought was healing. He had confirmed my deepest fear: the world was full of men who saw women as objects, as conquests, as things to be controlled.
I had been so furious. Completely blinded by rage.
The accidental knee to the groin wasn’t accidental at all, not really.
It was an instinct, a primal lash-out from a cornered animal.
As I’d stood up, shaking, declaring myself done, I finally realized it wasn’t just me being done with the sparring session, or with Mark, or even with the suffocating gym environment.
No, I was done with being vulnerable to men like them.
Done with letting their twisted sense of entitlement define my space, my passion, and my sense of self.
After telling Summer on the phone I was going to Colorado, I’d started looking at houses.
It wasn’t even official yet, not really.
I had mumbled something about needing a change, a new training environment.
She’d always been good at reading between the lines, but I think even she hadn’t fully grasped the desperation driving me.
This move wasn’t just about pursuing MMA. It was about escaping. Escaping the ghosts, escaping the constant, low-level hum of anxiety. Escaping the feeling of always looking over my shoulder.
Colorado was a clean slate, a place where the air might actually feel lighter. Somewhere I could breathe without the weight of past traumas pressing down on me. It was something I was looking forward to.
A sudden rap at the front door made me jump, nearly dropping the picture. “Hey, it’s just me,” I could hear Summer’s voice, muffled by the wood. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah, come in,” I managed, my voice a little rougher with emotion than I intended. I quickly placed the photo in a bubble-wrap cocoon. She pushed the door open, her arms laden with a pizza box and a bottle of wine.
Her eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were a little subdued, taking in the skeletal remains of my home. “Wow,” she said, her voice soft. “It’s really happening, isn’t it?”
I gave a weak shrug, trying to be nonchalant. “Looks like it!”
Summer carefully navigated the obstacle course of my belongings, setting the food down on the counter. “I brought comfort food. Figured you’d be too busy packing to remember proper sustenance.” She glanced around the room. “I just can’t believe you’re going through with this.”
I laughed. “You figured right,” I admitted, wasting no time reaching for a slice. This cheesy, greasy goodness was exactly what I needed. We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the only sounds were the rustle of the box and our chewing. It was moments like these I would miss most.
“So,” Summer began, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Colorado. For real. Are you excited?”
I chewed slowly, considering. “Excited, yeah. And terrified. And sad. It’s a whole cocktail of emotions.”
She nodded, picking at a pepperoni. “I get it. It’s a huge step. But… Why so sudden, Val? I mean, I know you’ve been talking about a change, but… this fast? Did you even give yourself time to think?”
I hesitated. “I know it sounds crazy, I just need you to trust me,” I pleaded, choosing my words carefully.
“It’s been building for longer than I want to admit.
This city… This house… it just feels like it’s holding me back now.
Like there are too many memories, too many shadows.
I need a fresh start. A place where I can just be me, without all the baggage. ”
Her gaze was searching, empathetic. “Is this about Mark?”
I flinched, surprised she’d even considered it.
I hadn’t explicitly said anything. “Partly,” I admitted, looking away, fiddling with the crust of my pizza.
“More than partly, actually. After everything with James it just… it was an added reminder, you know? Even when you think you’re moving forward and bettering your life, there are always these little things still trying to pull you back into the mindset.
A feeling of being unsafe, of being a target.
I just… I need to get out of here to truly leave it behind, and there’s nothing here to hold me back. ”
Summer reached across the counter and squeezed my hand. Her grip was firm, reassuring. “I know it doesn’t seem like it but I get it, Val. Truly. And I’m proud of you for making this decision. It takes guts to pick up and start over, especially when it feels like you’re running from something.”
“I’m not running,” I corrected, a little too sharply. “I’m moving towards something. Towards the next step. Towards bettering myself, a new gym, new challenges. This is about growth, not retreat.”
She smiled, a small, knowing curve of her lips. “I know. And I’ll be there, every step of the way. Even if I’m not physically there.”
A lump formed in my throat. I squeezed her hand back.
I knew it was going to be hard leaving my ride or die behind but I didn’t think it would be this hard.
“I do. But it’s going to be weird without you.
No more late-night runs to grab ice cream, no more random lunch dates to complain about things, no more… us.”
“Hey,” she said, her voice softening. “We’ll still be us. Just with a few hundred miles in between. And seriously, I’m already planning my first visit. I’m going to road-trip out there, find a cheap motel, and watch you kick some ass in your first big Colorado fight.”
My eyes welled up, despite my best efforts. “You mean it? I mean it will take time and you aren’t staying in a cheap motel.”
“Are you kidding?” she scoffed, pulling her hand away and walking around to the other side of the counter so she could throw an arm around my shoulder, and pull me into a side hug.
“Of course, I mean it. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.
You think I’m going to let you go off and become a famous MMA fighter without me there to cheer you on, and then brag I knew you when?
” She ruffled my hair playfully. “Besides, I’ve already scoped out some cool hiking trails near Denver.
You think you’re just going to train all day? Nah, we’re going to explore.”
We spent the rest of the evening alternating between packing, eating pizza, and planning her first visit.
We talked about her work, my new potential gym, and did research on the trainer who had caught my eye.
We laughed, and then, inevitably, we cried.
The tears were a mix of sadness for what I was leaving behind, and excitement for what lay ahead.
By the time Summer finally left, the wine was gone and the pizza box emptied. The house was still a mess but at least it was a contained mess. More boxes were taped shut, labeled with shaky handwriting.
The air still smelled of cardboard, but now it was tinged with the faint, sweet scent of Summer’s perfume, a comforting reminder. Even though miles would separate us, our bond wouldn’t break.
I stood in the middle of the room, now truly alone.
The walls, stripped of their decorations, seemed to echo with a quiet emptiness.
The past few weeks had been a blur of anxiety, anger, and fierce determination.
Now, with everything packed away, the reality of my departure settled over me like a heavy blanket.
By morning the movers would be here and the car would be packed.
I had my essentials organized in my car and would leave first thing in the morning, the movers meeting me at my new place on Sunday morning.
The goodbyes had already been said, and the only thing left now was the drive.