Chapter Four
Ian
I woke up thinking about Alexa. That wasn’t a surprise, since I’d gone to sleep thinking about her as well. I knew before I even got out of bed that I had to talk to her today. The first thing I did was reach for my phone. Halfway through dialing her number, I realized that it would just be better to see her, face-to-face. I got showered and dressed and headed over to her house. It was just after nine, and it was Saturday, so her dad would probably be there. I kind of got the feeling he wasn’t crazy about the idea of her seeing me…but I’ve never been a favorite amongst the “Dads, so I could handle that. I’d come to terms with the fact that a former delinquent turned professional fighter was probably not who they’d dreamed their little princesses would end up with. I can’t say as I blamed them. I doubted I’d think I was good enough for my own daughter either, if I ever had one.
When I drove up to the house, I didn’t see her car, but told myself that it was probably in the garage and I couldn’t back out now. I took a deep breath before parking along the street and getting out of the car. I wondered as I walked up to the door if she would be happy to see me…or pissed at me for not leaving her alone and waiting for her to call like she’d asked. I stood looking at the hanging plants in the entryway and knocked. After several seconds Alexa’s dad pulled open the door. He didn’t look at all happy to see me, and from the look on his face I got the feeling maybe Alexa had told him everything that has happened between us. He was giving me “the look” that fathers reserved only for men who hurt their daughters. My dad used to have one just like it that he used on Emma’s boyfriends.
“Hi,” I said, trying to look and sound my friendliest, or at the very least praying that my voice wouldn’t crack. Never show fear. “I was wondering if Alexa was here.”
“She’s not here,” he said. He was still giving me the glare. I tried to think of it the way I do in a fight. Don’t let it intimidate you. You should smile and just move on from there. If he throws a punch, you can take it. It’s not going to kill you.
“Okay, I’ll just give her a call later then, thanks.” I started to step back and he opened the door all the way and said,
“Come in.” It seemed more like a threat than an invitation, but what was I going to do…run? I went inside and almost gulped as he slammed the door behind me.
“Sit,” he said.
I went into the living room and did as I was told. I didn’t see any guns out that he may have been cleaning, so that was good. I smiled again, and tried to look happy about being here. I wanted Alexa…badly. I wasn’t going to screw it up further by getting on the wrong side of the only man in her life.
Her dad sat across from me and worked the glare again for a few minutes before he finally said, “She doesn’t need your drama in her life right now, Ian. I feel so damned bad for you and your family. Emma was a great girl and I loved her too. I can’t imagine what you’re all going through. But…Alexa is my daughter and I love her more than life itself. She’s going through the same pain that you are and on top of that, you’re heaping more on her. She’s hurting, and you’re making it worse.”
I felt like he’d just punched me in the gut. What was I supposed to say? I was here because I couldn’t stand the thought of being without her and her father was here, telling me I was hurting her and she didn’t need me. I need her.
“I never had any intentions of hurting her. I care about Alexa and she and I have been helping each other through this thing with Emma…”
“If you’re helping her then why is she so miserable?”
“Like you said, this is not an easy thing to deal with for any of us…” he kept interrupting me. I was talking faster, trying to get my own point out before he did.
“She’s grieving over Emma, but this is more. This is her starting to think that what she has with you is more than you leaning on her and her leaning on you. This is setting her up to fall hard. You’re not helping her, Ian. She’s not happy. The best thing you can do for her if you truly care about her like you say…is walk away now.”
“What if that’s not what she wants?”
“She’s confused and hurting. She has no idea what she wants or needs right now. Leave her alone and she’ll be okay. She’s strong…but if you hang around and keep hurting her when she’s already broken…you could leave a permanent scar. I’m sick of seeing her come home from being with you looking like her heart has been broken…again. Just leave her alone, Ian. She’s a good girl. She deserves better.”
I had no intentions of hurting Alexa. Even if things didn’t work out for us dating, I still cared about her. She was Emma’s best friend and that alone gave her a special rank. But there was more than that…so much more. I wanted so badly to continue to explore it and figure out where it was going. This was all new to me. Of course I’d had girlfriends before…but none of them had affected me the way that Alexa does. How am I supposed to just walk away from that?
“I never wanted to hurt her.”
“I doubt that was your intention…but she’s hurting nonetheless. So now you need to man up and do something about it.”
“And you think that walking away from her now is not going to hurt her?” I failed to see how just walking away when she was still going through all of this crap was manning up.
“Not as badly as it would hurt her on down the road. People get into relationships and let themselves believe that it’s going to be forever. They throw themselves into it 100% and then when it doesn’t work out…they feel like they’ve lost everything. After what she’s been through, I don’t know if she could handle that. It would be devastating.”
I wondered what made him think it wasn’t going to work out. I had been taking this thing with Alexa as it came a day at a time. I hadn’t considered much farther into the future than that. Was I ready to commit to forever? No. I wanted her; I knew that as much as I knew I’d be taking my next breath. Did I want her forever? Was she going to want me forever? I couldn’t answer that question, and maybe that was what he was talking about.
“So you think I should just not contact her anymore? I shouldn’t at least talk to her about this and see what it is that she wants?”
“I think not contacting her would be best. She’s confused, Ian. She’s hurting and she doesn’t know what she wants. If you walk away now, before she gets too attached, her feelings will be hurt, but at least her heart won’t be broken.”
I felt numb. I wished he was wrong but what if he wasn’t? I had already hurt her quite a bit in the short time we’d been together. I was, by history, a screw up. What made me think it would be any different from here on out? Was it okay for me to risk hurting her because of what I wanted? Not if I really cared about her…and I did…I do.
“Okay,” I said.
“Okay? You’ll leave her alone?”
He sounded surprised. Maybe I had given in too easily. Fuck, I have no idea.
“Yeah, I’ll leave her alone. I don’t want to hurt her.”
“Thank you, Ian.” He looked relieved and I realized that he knew I really had the power here to refuse. Did it make me less of a man for not refusing him, or more? I had no fucking clue, but lately, that was a permanent state of mind for me.
I went home, feeling like a bigger piece of crap than I had before. I lost my sister and now I felt like I’d lost my best friend. I wanted to hit something. I paced around the apartment for a while like a caged animal and finally went to the gym.
I went straight for the bag. I wanted to just wail on it, I was so frustrated. But I knew that I had to find some control somewhere, so I just ran it like a regular circuit workout. I started with my right leg, doing low kicks for five reps. When I worked out on the bag, I’d gotten good at using my imagination to picture my opponent and where my kicks and punches would be landing on a live person. Today, I pictured Kristie. I would never, ever hit her…but it was cathartic to think about it.
I kicked the lower half of the bag, picturing her legs…those long, overly tanned legs. I did a pivot on my support foot and turned my hip as I delivered the kick. Maximum power. Then I switched legs and did another five before switching to high-kick. I kicked the top of the bag…aiming for her overly made-up face. I did five of those on each leg and by that time I was starting to sweat. I tried to visualize the stress leaving my body with the sweat.
I let myself really start punching then. I started with twenty straight punches, alternating hands. I guess I’m not a complete asshole because even though I tried to visualize Kristie’s head snapping back as I threw the punch, I couldn’t do it. I replaced it with a visual of the guy I’d be fighting for the championship, Gilbert “Gil” Morris. I didn’t have any problem picturing his head bobbing with the impact of my fist.
I switched to a left hook and did twenty of those too and then did it all again with a right hook. I finished up with a knee strike…I did five of those on each leg.
Before I left the gym I showered, and on the way home I got something to eat. By the time I got back to my apartment, I was feeling a little better. I walked in and dropped my bag and spent the rest of the afternoon and evening vegging out in front of the television, watching mindless sitcoms.
I was getting ready to call it a night when I heard my text message tone. I realized then that I had left the phone in my gym bag. I hadn’t even missed it. I went and fished it out and when I saw the text was from Alexa, I felt a sharp pain in my chest. This was the moment of truth. Was I going to keep the promise I made to her dad? Did I want to? The answer to the second question was no. I didn’t want to. I wanted to reach out to her. I ached for it. But I’d made a promise and with good reason. I didn’t want to hurt her. She did deserve better than that. With a “Fuck!” out loud to the empty room, I turned the phone off, tossed it back in the bag and went to bed.