Grey spends the week training, harder than I have ever seen him train. Which is a pretty big thing to say, considering how much he pushes himself regularly. But with the tournament coming up in days, he has been pushing himself more and more. I never thought it was possible, but he proves it to me every day when he gets home sweaty, exhausted, and on the verge of breaking down like an over-worked robot. I’ve been giving him baths every day to ease his cramped, tense muscles. Plus loads more affection, like kisses, sex—hell, after all he is doing to work to meet his goal, he deserves all I give him and more.
To say I’m scared for him and his health would be a disgusting understatement. I want him to win the title and jumpstart his dream career of being an MMA fighter. However, I do not want him burning out his body to the point that he can barely function or run himself into the ground. I want him to be healthy and sound of mind. But I can’t say his relentless drive doesn’t make me proud to call him my man. My hard-working, lovable man, to be correct. I love that he doesn’t stop when he has pushed his limit, he goes beyond that with one goal on his mind, and it drives me insane with utter adoration and respect.
I spend today cleaning up the house. It’s the least I can do while he works so hard. While I do the dishes and laundry, I am wrapped up in thoughts, and the time flies by in a flash.
In just two weeks, summer will be over, and I will go back to school. And I am a bit afraid. I love college and all it has to offer; I am not scared of school. I am afraid of how our dynamic will alter when we are back in Pennsylvania. He will obviously be done with college and working. And I will be going to school. Since he will be focused on working while I attend school, will we be able to find time for each other? And not only that, but…where will I live? We have just gotten back together and are working out our kinks and trying to solidify trust. But does that mean we are ready to live together after we leave this mini paradise?
It’s safe to say that we have a lot to talk about. But when will there be time to discuss them? Along with being tired and stressed out every day when he comes home from the gym, he is very irritable. I know the man well enough to know that if I bring up any touchy subject that can possibly end in an argument, which is sadly not hard to accomplish, he will burst into anger and probably storm out on me. He has a terrible habit of leaving without us talking about it. I hope we can work on that sometime. But for now, we have important things to contemplate and figure out. Hopefully by next week. I want to know if I should apply to stay in the dorms or not.
By the time I’m finished cleaning, I am exhausted. I take a brief nap and wake up rejuvenated. I feel like we should go out so he can take his mind off of the upcoming tournament. He’s going to work himself to the bone. Plus, I could use some time with him romantically. Setting the baths and affection to the side, I want to go out. Take a walk on the beach, have dinner at a restaurant—anything out of a cheesy rom-com, like on our first date when he took me out to eat and then to the movie theater afterward. But like I said before, there is no right time to bring anything up. Well, anything that doesn’t deal with the tournament or training.
I check the clock on one of the kitchen walls as I eat a turkey sandwich for lunch. It is almost four p.m. I quickly finish my sandwich and walk into the bedroom to get ready. I set up a time for Matthew and me to talk. He has been a great mentor of sorts, guiding me through my millions of questions and just chatting with me as a friend. I hope that we can grow into a full-fledged friendship when I begin the program.
All week, as Grey has been training his butt off, I’ve been gearing myself for the opportunity of my college lifetime. I have been buying plenty of outfits to wear for the program, which will take up a lot of my time, and other school supplies. Matthew has joked, regarding my purchases as a tad overdone. I blushed at that. But then he quickly reassured me that it’s good that I’m getting ready for the new school year. Again, I blushed at that.
I brush out and curl my hair, letting it fall against my shoulders. I am dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a blue tank top. Not the most professional get up, but like I said, Matthew and I have grown a little closer into a sort of friendship. I feel more comfortable around him. Plus, I don’t feel like ironing a button up or pinning my hair up in a tight bun. The bobby pins always feel like they’re trying to probe inside of my brain.
“Hello, Olivia,” Matthew croons in his deep voice as his face appears on the screen. I settle onto the couch, my legs tucked beneath me.
“Hi, Matthew.” I wave at him, and he flashes me those pearly white teeth of his. “And please, I have told you time and time again to call me Liv.”
He nods, and his eyes smile at me through his round eyeglasses. “I’m sorry, I’ll do that from now on…Liv.” He winks at me, and I laugh.
“Where are you now?” I question, examining the pebble-stone behind him. He is sitting at a cafe of sorts, and wherever he is looks absolutely beautiful. He has the luckiest job ever, mentoring those entering the program and traveling to check out new location spots.
“Paris, France,” he informs me before sipping from a cute, small cup of coffee. I stare at the cup; he’s most likely drinking black coffee since it is both of our favorites, he’s revealed to me.
“Oh, Paris,” I swoon, leaning against the couch, hands against my chest. “I’ve always wanted to go there. It looks heavenly.”
“Then you haven’t tried their coffees, or their croissants, or their coffees with croissants,” he groans and shows me a piece of a buttery croissant roll. My mouth waters as he bites into it, then washes it down with the steaming coffee. “Ahhhh,” he sighs in contentment, and I glare at him. He laughs at my expense.
“You are horrible, you know that?” I point an accusing finger at him, but he just smiles.
“Guilty as charged.” He chuckles.
“How long have you been working at the program?” I ask curiously. He looks ridiculously young. He looks like he’s no older than twenty-six yet is granted the amazing privilege to travel and eat croissants and drink coffee in Paris? He must either be really good at his job or is a naturally lucky man.
“About five years now,” he says, readjusting in his seat. “I was doing well in college and was lucky enough to have been spotted by a representative for the program. I was brought in after I graduated. I’ve worked my way up and smooched a little.” He winks, and I laugh. “But it all worked out pretty well, I guess…” He takes a long sip of his coffee.
He is so annoying!
I narrow my eyes at him and sigh. “Hopefully I can be where you are now.”
“In Paris or my position?” He quirks an eyebrow.
“Both.” I smile, and he slowly matches it.
We chat and talk a little more about the program for about forty minutes. He warns me what and who to watch out for and how challenging it will be, juggling schoolwork and the program’s. I tell him that I will be able to deal with both, and he makes an annoying are you sure? face that I am half-tempted to raise a middle finger to. Geez, I am becoming Grey in every sense. I don’t know if I should blush or be worried. I wish I could talk to him more, but his superiors call him for some job. He promises to call back later tonight, if not tomorrow.
“Goodbye, Matthew.” I wave at him, and he smiles at me.
“Have a nice night…Liv.” His little wink is the last thing I see.
I glance at the time in the right corner. It is now almost six p.m. I will cook dinner in an hour, Grey usually gets in around eight, and it doesn’t take long to make his favorite, lasagna. I grab a novel and a cup of tea before sitting on the rocking chair on the back patio. It is a warm night with a little cool breeze. Perfect weather to sit in and wait for my sweaty, tired man to come in. I read and drink for maybe twenty minutes, and it’s relaxing. I can definitely get used to it.
My perfect moment is ruined when my phone rings.
“Ugh,” I grunt and set my tea and book down. I pull out my phone and feel my heart skip two beats at the caller I.D. I slowly slide my finger across the screen to answer. “Mother…?”
“Olivia, I need you. Please come. It’s an emergency,” she says, sounding tearful.
***
I take a cab to the house and rush up the driveway. My heart is in my throat, and my legs are burning as I run. The adrenaline has officially kicked in, carrying me to the front door. I had a feeling something was off when I saw her calling me. Considering we got into a heated argument that resulted in her slapping me, I thought it would be longer before either of us dialed the other up to chat about the other’s day over tea. But when she pleaded for my help and said it was an emergency, I bolted into a mode to protect her. After all, she is my family. She is my mother, even if she doesn’t act like it most of the time.
I was surprised, hearing her tear up over the line. The last time I witnessed or discreetly heard her cry was when Jonah passed. She was a complete wreck and acted as if both of her children passed away that night. But it was Jonah, but not him alone. She had been pregnant and announced it to us all. That night…she lost everything…but me. And hearing her so emotional and human again, I just had to be there for her to comfort her, like I had when I found her crying in her bed countless times.
I push through the unlocked door and call for her. “Mother? Mother, where are you?”
“In here, darling,” her voice tells me, weirdly calm despite how wrecked she sounded over the phone.
I enter one of the living rooms and find her on the pristine white couch. She is dressed in a red-as-a-candy-apple dress, hair pinned up and makeup done perfectly. No tear marks or distressed wrinkles in sight. What’s going on?
“How nice to see you, dear.” She smiles from ear to ear, and I shiver at the strange sight.
“What…what’s the emergency?” My voice feels tight. “I thought there was something wrong with you.” I don’t like how she’s smiling at me.
“There is nothing wrong with me, dear. But you, on the other hand.” Her head tilts to the side, and there is a pause before she points at me. “Darling, there is something wrong with you.”
What?
“Huh?” I voice my confused thoughts.
I hear a grunt behind me and squeal when I am lifted up. I gasp and thrash around, thinking an intruder or a murderer is trying to hurt me. But when I look over my shoulders, I am met with two huge men in all white, mean looks etched into their clean-shaven faces. They kind of look like security guards in the movies. But what they’d be guarding are people…crazy people.
“Mother!” I gasp, facing her creepy grin. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I am doing what any mother would do to help their child,” she says with a little frown. “I gave you plenty of time to come to your senses about that nomad of a man you call the love of your life.”
“You’re insane!” I spit at her, kicking my legs wildly.
She laughs and nods, gesturing to the men to raise me higher. “No, I’m not,” she says as I feel my shirt be dragged up and a needle be pressed into my side. I scream and call for help, but no one is home to hear my cries. “You are, my love…”