70. Chapter 67
Chance
T wo years later …
“That’s it, Lenny! Bridge and roll … Excellent!” My wife stood circling two six-year-olds, who were rolling. Her new BJJ Gi fit perfectly around the growing bump of her stomach, but we would have to switch to no-Gi classes soon.
“Great job boys!” she cheered for them as the timer beeped loudly. “Change partners!”
She wandered between different pairings, switching from instructing to cheering within the span of half a second. Sunny really was an incredible coach, and all of the kids in the class responded well to her methods of teaching.
She’d taken over kids’ classes permanently after my last championship title defence three months ago.
When we’d come away with the win, a submission in the second round, she was bouncing off the walls, excited about my grappling execution.
For the eight-hour flight and the four-hour drive home from the airport, it had been all she could talk about.
Seeing her participate every day in the two things she was truly passionate about—BJJ and shaping young minds—was fucking incredible.
She was glowing, and not just from our baby boy who would continue growing inside her for the next four months.
She was happy. Finally, beautifully happy and at peace.
Those brown eyes met mine, and I did the same thing I always did when our gazes met—I fell in love all over again. Those warm, honey brown eyes sparkled when her lips tipped up in that fucking breathtaking smile she had.
“Hi, darling,” she said, skipping over to me.
“Hey, Sunny baby,” I replied, dropping a kiss to her lips. “How’re you going?”
“Can’t complain.” She beamed, subconsciously rubbing a hand over her swollen stomach.
JJ, Sunny, and I had all attended therapy for what happened that night after I won my first championship. We had done some sessions together, some apart, but we weren’t haunted anymore. We spoke about what happened freely and openly, and we stood by each other on both the good and bad days.
There had been a lot of both.
But these moments, these special memories of the last two years made everything worth it.
Seeing Milah come home. Seeing JJ make it into the pros as a heavyweight fighter.
Hearing Sunny say the words ‘yes’ and ‘I do’ had been particularly special times.
Hanging up the pads Al had held for me the night I first won the belt in his house for him.
Sitting with Marilyn while she got her first tattoo and comforting her to have faith in JJ to know what he was doing.
Seeing the two lines pop up on Sunny’s pregnancy test.
All of these moments in time were priceless, and if the life I’d lived before was the price I had to pay—I would pay it ten times over if it meant I ended here. Because sometimes you’ve gotta bear with the storm to see the sunshine. And boy was that warm, quiet sunshine worth the rain.