Two weeks have passed since I left pieces of my heart on the floor of Chance’s office. He hasn’t once called to explain. He knows I found that contract. I left it neatly in order, along with the photo of the boys on the kitchen counter. I decided not to leave my letter. He doesn’t deserve to hear the details of Audrey’s missteps or the measures I took because of how desperately I wanted to save her. But a part of me wonders if I’d left it behind, would it have changed where we are now.

He doesn’t deserve it. I remind myself, hating that I miss him, that I find myself looking for him when I come to work each day or that I watched his press conference last week about his upcoming fight. Five times.

He sat at that podium with Vic by his side, answering questions, smiling, even laughing at times when he found the reporters’ questions funny. Basically, not giving me the slightest tell of how he’s really doing. He was robotic, professional and other than a black eye, seemed strong and ready. And not missing me.

“Mia,” Martha says, stepping into the studio. I look up in time to see her face soften. She knows where my mind was, but I plaster on a fake smile, forcing it to stay in place. She’s been nothing short of amazing to me, while giving me an apartment to live in and a steady shoulder to cry on. “There’s someone here to see you,” she says remorsefully and my heart flip flops in my chest before it begins its erratic gallop.

“Who is it?” My voice comes out weak and I damn the lump in my throat with a hard swallow. I haven’t heard from Audrey since the day of Brittany’s graduation. Despite all I lost that day, it still hasn’t stopped the worry that soon, one of St. Louis’s finest will find me to deliver the news she’s gone.

“I think you should talk to him,” she says, softly. It takes my mind a minute to shift gears, but my heart contracts, already knowing who him is. I shake my head. “You need closure,” she insists, her eyes dropping.

“I don’t think I can right now.” My eyes sting, unshed tears building at their corners and I quickly lose sight of her as she makes her way to my side.

“I never told you about Francis and I, but there was a time when he broke my heart, too,” she says, thoughtfully. “I won’t give you the long drawn out account of events, but I’ll tell you that I listened to him and he had his reasons. I didn’t like them, but I understood them and hearing them gave me the closure I needed to move on.”

“So you forgave him just like that?”

“Shit no!” she laughs softly and I smile. “It took years, we didn’t immediately get back together after that. I was in Paris and he was in England. It took another several years before our paths crossed again, but hearing why he did it allowed me to clearly process all the scenarios that were running through my head…like the ones you’ve been running through your mind for the past couple of weeks. It gave me the closure on all of it. There were no more ‘what ifs’, I knew and I began living again.”

“I don’t know if I can forgive him,” I mutter.

“No one’s asking you to sweetheart,” she says sympathetically. “I can’t even promise you’ll want to hear what he has to say, but the fact he’s here speaks volumes.” I nod, my heart still beating erratically, my mind racing with wonder if I’m strong enough to see him.

Seeing him on television almost did me in. Chance’s real-life persona is headier than any billboard, television interview or magazine spread. I stand, knowing he has the answers that I need. The closure I need. “Where is he?” I ask weakly before clearing my throat.

“In my office. Take as much time as you need. I’ll work with Julia when she arrives.”

I turn to walk away before pausing and turning back around. “Thank you, Martha.” She smiles. “For everything,” I add.

She tilts her head toward the door. “Go get your answers, sweetheart.”

I walk down the long hall, reminding myself to breathe in, breathe out. When I turn the corner, his back is turned as he looks out the office window. Dressed in my favorite jeans and a simple white t-shirt, I take a few seconds to allow my eyes to roam up and down his body before I make my presence known with the clearing of my throat.

He turns abruptly. “Mia,” he breathes, his eyes taking time to look me over. I step behind Martha’s desk, needing the wood barrier as protection. From what, I don’t know, I just need something to stop me from wrapping myself around him.

“Hey.”

“You look…beautiful.”

I want to melt under his words, but I can’t. Stay strong Mia. “You look good, too.” I force my eyes to his, not wanting to roam over the pronounced cut of every muscle. He said this would happen, that he’d eat aggressively while training and then trim up just weeks before his fight.

“You think so? Vic’s on me about my weight, he’s worried about my caloric intake and that I’ll be too light for weigh in.” He smiles and I look away, not wanting to be affected by it. I take a slow deep breath, forcing myself to exchange longing to anger. He’s here, talking and smiling as if nothing happened. I level my eyes back on his.

“Why are you here, Chance?” His smile falters as uneasiness settles in the slump of his expression. There’s the look I’ve carried around for the past two weeks.

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” I nod, desperately swallowing at the lump growing in my throat. “I overreacted to everything your sister said and then seeing the way Paul was looking at you, it was too much. I didn’t handle it well and I should have talked to you. I know about Audrey.” My eyes fly up, meeting his. “Smith filled me in a little. Enough to know I’m an asshole. Will you tell me the rest?” he asks, stepping forward. “It’s too much for you to carry alone,” he adds, softly and the lump tightens, growing again.

“All I ever wanted was to protect her. She was all I had,” I say sorrowfully.

“I wish you would have told me. I would’ve understood, Mia. Matthew and Brandon mean everything to me.”

I take another hard swallow at the mention of them. “You planned on marrying me to get custody of them and then you were going to divorce me and I wasn’t to contact you ever again. That’s what the agreement said.” I struggle through a whisper.

“But I didn’t, Mia. I couldn’t use you. The minute I met you…” his words trail off. I swallow again, my mind flipping back to that first night. What an idiot I was to think he was somehow my knight in shining armor; helping me from the stage and getting me home safely was just part of his plan.

“Why me?”

“The first night I saw you on that stage, I knew you were different Mia. I was more drawn to you than I’ve ever been to a woman. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You’re beautiful, but it was more than that. You’re good and pure and I saw it.”

I wince. “So, you picked the weakest in the flock and hunted me…” My voice cracks and I hate myself for it. I hate him for doing this to me. Audrey and I would be in Texas right now. I’d have my sister and my heart if he’d never laid eyes on me.

“No...fuck! I’m fucking this up,” he says, running his hand through his hair in exasperation. “You didn’t even see me that night, but you consumed me. The night I pulled you off that stage, I had come to Jimmy’s to see you. It was almost two weeks after the first time and I couldn’t get you out of my mind. You touched me. Right here,” he says tapping his chest and I soften. Hating myself for that too. “I knew you weren’t like the others. I didn’t like you up there showing off your body. I remember the thought of someone else touching you spearing me with jealousy. I wanted you for myself.”

“Must be nice to play with people and their emotions because you want them!”

“I wasn’t playing, Mia. I’ll admit I asked my attorney to draft that, but tossed it to the side when he sent it. I never even read it. When Vic got onto me about that picture, he said something that made me think that a marriage agreement could work to—”

“What picture?” I ask, the memory of Vic mentioning it coming to mind.

“It’s not a big deal. I took care of it.”

“What picture, Chance?”

He sighs while reaching in his pocket for his phone. He taps the glass a few times before handing it to me. “How did you get this? Who took this?” I ask, tears prickling at my eyes as the evidence of how far I had fallen stares back at me in the form of a darkened image.

My gaze lands on my eyes. The shame of taking my clothes off to pay Audrey’s drug habit, the stress of overwhelming debt and the bone chilling fear of seeing Paul at the side of that stage, witnessing it, can all be found in their hollow depths.

“I took care of it,” Chance says softly and my eyes dart to his. I swipe at an errant tear that falls and he steps forward, wanting to console me, but his advance ends when I look back at the phone in my hand. “My attorney made sure it was deleted everywhere and I assure you, that guy will never take another unsolicited picture of a woman.”

My thumb presses at the glass above the garbage pail. I quickly navigate to the recently deleted file, partly afraid of what I may find, but Chance does nothing to stop me as he stands next me, watching quietly. I press delete, deleting it permanently and the next picture in the queue pops up.

My eyes graze over it and if weren’t me, I’d say she looks like an angel sleeping soundly with her blonde hair feathered over the white pillow, her dark lashes delicately fanned toward cheeks tinged with a blush of rosy pink. Even in her sleep, she looks happy…satisfied…in love.

“I couldn’t bring myself to permanently delete that picture. It’s been deleted and recovered more times than I care to admit in the past couple weeks,” he says quietly. I look up. His green eyes slowly lift from the picture to meet mine. “I took that my first day of training. I loved you then, I just didn’t know it.”

I force my eyes away, handing him the phone. “I have a class to teach. It starts in just a few minutes.” I stand, and Chance doesn’t move from the edge of the desk. “Will you please move? I need to go,” I beg quietly, using every ounce of strength I have.

“Please don’t. Please…” he says backing up, clearing a very narrow path to the door. He’s allowing me to make the decision, but I can’t be trusted to make the right one, this is all too much and I need to think.

“I have to,” I say meekly as I step around him.

“Mia?”

I pause, unable to turn around, my focus remaining on the door. “Having Edward create that agreement was wrong. If I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t. I felt desperate at the time.”

“Why?” Tears sting the sides of my eyes and my focus on the door blurs.

“I was already yours. I just wanted you to be mine.”

I close my eyes and warm tears blaze a hot trail down my cheeks. “I was yours,” I whisper, holding back my sob as I walk out the door.