Rematch

Chapter 1

Audrey

I don’t recognize my first love anymore.

If it weren’t for his name on the pamphlet, I wouldn’t have assumed it was him. Not with the tattoos covering his arms and his curls cut short and his eyes consumed by the fire he always held, but controlled. Now, it coursed through him like a wildfire.

I almost worried for his opponent, pinned underneath him, as Max’s gloved fist pounded into his face over and over and over again. In the octagon, usually Max was more disciplined. He knew when to stop.

But, watching him now, with that scowl on his lips and blind rage in his eyes, I wasn’t so sure he would. If it weren’t for the crowded stadium and being so far away, I would’ve raced down there, grabbed him, and begged him to stop. Like I’ve done so many times years before.

Thankfully, the referee did it for me.

He grabbed Max’s arm and signaled to him that his opponent was done - knocked clean out.

The intervention was all Max needed to snap out of whatever trance he’d fallen in. In a split second, all of the fire diminished and triumph replaced it. He smiled around his mouth guard as he got off of his opponent and raised his fists in victory.

The crowd erupted in louder cheers and screams for him. Handmade signs with his name bounced between the ecstatic packs. A group beside us chanted his name. “Guerra! Guerra! Guerra!”

Experiencing such a phenomenon almost made me smile. Memories of the times we’d sit around our bedrooms and imagine moments like this. Him standing tall and victorious after a tough match and fans going wild. “I’m going to dedicate every win to you,” he’d told me once.

Grinning, his eyes scanned over the crowd, soaking in the exhilaration. They stopped on me, and the world froze.

The cheers silenced, and the crowds faded away. For a moment, it was just me and him - so close, yet so far from each other. As it had been for years now.

I didn’t know how to react to a break in a silence that’s lasted this long. Should I wave? Should I smile? Should I get up and run, one part hoping he wouldn’t notice and the other wishing he’d come after me?

Before I could make up my mind, he brought his bloody gloves up to his lips, pressed a soft kiss on it, and held it out to me in silent dedication.