Chapter Forty-Four
Shane
After being in countless fights in my life of every kind—street, professional, planned, impromptu—I recognized the shift in the air. Instinctively I knew that Brooklyn and I were heading for a fight, and I wanted to freeze time and just stay like this forever. With her in my arms and the rest of the world far, far away.
She rolled off me and my muscles tensed. I needed to decide if I should block or strike, but how could I do anything when she was getting dressed, so much raw pain in her features that the ache echoed through my chest?
Since I didn’t want to bring a cock to a gunfight, I pulled on my boxer briefs and decided I’d risk not having the protection of my shirt and pants.
Every methodical move Brooklyn made drove me closer to the brink of insanity. “If you don’t say something soon, I’m gonna lose my shit.” I was probably going to lose it either way.
The hard purse of her lips made me want to take it back. To beg her not to say anything that’d ruin me. “My paintings were selected for this big art show in San Francisco called the Golden City Art Exhibition—remember, I mentioned I’d submitted them when I showed them to you. Anyway, when I entered them, I wanted to believe they’d get picked in spite of the overwhelming odds, but the truth is, I didn’t. Not really. A lot of things I didn’t believe would happen this summer did.”
The news gave me emotional whiplash. What was the catch? Where was the brewing storm I felt crackling in the air? “That’s awesome. I’m not surprised. Your work is fantastic.”
Unshed tears made her eyes gloss over. “You know when it is? The exhibition?”
I bit back the sarcastic How the hell would I know? that wanted to explode out of me and forced my breath to even out. “When is it?”
“The same night as your fight with Conrad.”
My lungs caved in on themselves. When I’d imagined winning that fight, I’d always imagined Brooklyn in the crowd, cheering me on. Her by my side when I celebrated my victory and the second leg of my very long, very successful career. No more has-been status for me. “That sucks, and of course I want you to be there”—you have no idea how badly—“but I understand that you won’t be able to make that one.”
“It’s not just that fight, though. It’s important that we have our priorities in order. Both of us.”
“I’m planning on training my ass off, spending time with you, and winning that fight so I can land the next one. My priorities are in order.”
Brooklyn ran a hand through her hair, her gaze barely touching me before flickering to the door. “You can’t tell me you haven’t been more distracted since we crossed into more. We’ve joked about it, but it’s crunch time, and there isn’t time for jokes.”
“This feels like a joke, but I gotta say, it’s not a fucking funny one.”
She tilted her head.
“Don’t give me your disappointed look, like you expected me to be a bigger person,” I said, panic and anger forming a corrosive mix that burned through me. “I jumped all in, and you wrote us off before we even started.”
“That’s not true. I tried, but I can already see it’s not going to work.” She sucked in a breath, then closed her eyes and blew it out. When her eyelids opened, she looked more through me than at me. “I’ve been down this road before, with my dad, with my ex. I stay on the sidelines while fighting takes center stage. Only I won’t put off my dreams, so I won’t be on the sidelines. I’ll be in San Francisco, painting and completing an internship at an art gallery that I hope will display my work one day. You’ll be fighting your way up to the top, and Shane, I want that for you. But the nights I’m not there to celebrate with you will stack up, and there will be a ton of other pretty girls lining up to celebrate with you.”
I restrained the raging beast inside that wanted to be let loose and did my best to remain calm. “And you don’t think I’m strong enough to keep it in my pants?”
She flinched. “I’ve seen it time and time again. Guys who adore their wives and kiss them good-bye, and then they get on the road and…” She shrugged, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I watched my mom brush it off like it was okay, but it wasn’t, and I won’t live that life. Our lives are going different ways—we both knew that from the beginning.”
I rounded the bed. “But things have changed.”
“They have,” she said. “Now you’ve got a huge fight lined up, and I have a big art show coming up, and I know firsthand that long-distance relationships don’t work. You need to focus, and I need to go get my life in order up north. Why set ourselves up for failure?”
“There are more galleries than the ones up north, you know. Why can’t you at least look down here and see if you can’t find a job that’s not so far away? I could really use you here with me as I’m starting this climb.”
Her face fell. “Positions don’t just open up, not with the bigger galleries, and especially not at ones that fit the kind of art I do. The one where I’ll be working is steeped in the art world, it affords me an opportunity to be mentored by an artist I admire, and it’ll give me connections that can catapult me to the next level. And the fact that you think I need to be the one to move only proves my point. I can’t put my dreams on hold so you can have yours.” She pressed her lips together, fighting her emotions, and I wanted her to stop fighting and let them out already. “In order for us to both have our dreams, we can’t be together.”
I took a step toward her, jabbing a finger at her words. “That’s bullshit. It might be hard, but you’re tapping out before we even have a chance to try.”
“Why delay the pain? So it’ll be even harder when we break? The longer I’m here, the more…” Her voice cracked and a tear ran down her cheek, and even though I was pissed as hell at her, I still couldn’t help reaching out and wiping it away with my thumb.
Her shaky breath skated across my wrist. Her fingers wrapped around my forearm, her eyes closed, and I thought I’d broken through to her. Then she dropped her hand and stepped back, out of my reach, and as hungry as I’d been for her touch, it made her withdrawal that much worse.
“I spent too much of my life resenting fighters and all the attention my dad gave them, but now I’m glad, because it means he took a chance on you, and I know you’ll earn it. You’re the real deal, Shane Knox. You made me see the world in a different way, and I’ll always be grateful for the time we got to spend together.” More tears spilled down her cheeks, and a hollow pit opened up in my chest, and this wasn’t the way this was supposed to fucking go. “I’m not going to hold you back, and I’m asking you to do the same for me.”
“That’s fucking unfair and you know it.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “What would be fair, Shane? Me giving up what I want to stay here for you?”
Fair would be not losing the woman I was in love with right when everything else in my life aligned. Fair would be if she believed in me instead of comparing me to weaker men. From the beginning she’d made it clear she didn’t think we could work, and all my efforts to prove otherwise didn’t matter.
When you care about someone, you stick around. You work it out.
Plenty of people had walked out on me, and I wouldn’t beg her to stay. I engaged every protection mechanism I’d learned through the years. I bottled up my feelings and shoved them down deep where no one could find them—even me—threw up a big-ass wall, and quickly detached myself from the situation, from Brooklyn. From everything. “You’ve already made your decision. Don’t let me hold you back.”