by Abby Knox
But none of it matters if I can’t get her to show up. “I’m going to need Maria’s help, though,” I say.
As soon as I leave the gym, I hustle over to the kickboxing school, looking forward to seeing Dylan. Even though we’ve been on somewhat weird and shaky ground for the last few weeks, at least she’s still been coming to kickboxing class, and I’m glad. But tonight, she doesn’t even bother to show up.
After all the students leave for the night, I text Dylan, but she doesn’t answer.
I had thought I’d gotten out all my worry and frustration, between training at the gym and teaching class, but turns out it’s not even close. I’m feeling like I’m about to burst a blood vessel.
Chapter Nine
Dylan
Most of my patients are good to me. Most of them. But there’s always one bad apple in the bunch. Combine one bad apple with weeks of my fibro gradually building and building, and it’s a recipe for a major flare-up.
I can’t blame the patient too much. I should have waited for another nurse to come with me, but I thought I could handle it on my own.
So when Jerry kicks me in the ribs, my trained muscles are ready for it. But still, the stress of a very combative patient makes my entire body react. It starts with the pain isolated in the spot where he kicked me, then it spreads to my chest, my stomach, my shoulders, my arms, and pretty soon my entire body explodes in pain.
I try to soldier through, but the next few hours are like agony. I have no choice. I have to go home so I call my boss.
“Elaine. I’m so sorry, Jerry kicked me and now everything hurts. I’m headed into a major flare-up. I’m to the point of feeling nauseated.” I continue to apologize profusely but Elaine cuts me off.
“Honey, I got you covered. I’m about done with the busy work here at the office so I can come up there and take over. Sit tight.”
“Elaine, oh my god, I love you.”
“Meh. It’s good for me to keep my hand in, right?”
The solace of knowing that my boss totally gets my illness helps me get through until Elaine arrives to tap me out. She even understands I can’t hug her right now.
When I arrive at home, every muscle in my body feels like it’s on fire and throbbing at the same time. Even the sounds of text notifications make my bones rattle, so I silence my phone.
First I try some moist heat with a hot bath and aromatherapy, but I’m so tired that all I want to do is get into my bed.
I dry off and pull on some undies and my comfiest bralette before sliding between my flannel sheets. I turn on some soft music on my Bluetooth speaker, drop some lavender oil into my diffuser, and lie there, with no delusions that I’ll be able to sleep. I can only lie here in the dark with my heating pad and cry.
My pillow is soaked by the time I hear the doorbell.
I reach over and wipe away my tears to take a look at the front door monitor.
Grizz is pounding on the door.
I push a button on my phone that unlocks the door and I wait. Watching him, it looks like the big lug didn’t hear the door unlock, so I pick up my phone. I see about fifteen texts from him. The last one reads, “Sweets, I’m gonna kick the door down. I know you’re in there. Are you OK?”
I text him back. “Hey, dummy. Check the handle again. Don’t you break my fkn door.”
I watch his whole body flood with relief once he knows I’m OK. It’s a touching thing to see. I almost feel bad that he was so worried about me.
My eyes close again as I go back to drowning in my throbbing, stabbing pain.
The way the mattress reacts to his weight when he lies down next to me, you’d think Grizz was a refrigerator with legs.
I turn my face over on my pillow and open one eye.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” he whispers. “What can I do to help you?”
“Nothing.”
“Can I make you some tea?”
I gingerly shake my head no. “But lukewarm water would be nice.”
“You got it.”
He returns moments later with a mug of lukewarm water. I sit up and take a sip, then quickly hand it back to him. “Thanks.”
“Do you want me to call someone?”
“No,” I mumble into my pillow. “Not unless you know a massage therapist who makes house calls.”
Even though I’m drowning in pain, I sense his feelings. He wants to ask me something but he’s hesitating. “What is it, Grizz?”
“I’ve been doing some research. I could try to massage you if you want.”
“Grizz.”
“I mean, I’ll stop right away if it doesn’t help.”
The truth is, he could make it worse by trying. But I know my Grizz. He wants so badly to help me. It’s so moving to see the look on his face. He only wants to take care of me. And I want to give that to him. So I brace myself and tell him it’s OK to try.
I slide my one bare arm out of the sheet toward him.
To my surprise, his ministrations don’t make it worse.
His warm hands press into the muscles of my arms, first at the shoulder, down to the muscles of my upper arm, into my lower arm and my hand. He threads his fingers in between mine and pulls, releasing a little bit of the pain. It doesn’t get rid of all of it, but it’s enough to take the edge off.
Knowing how my head is pounding, he keeps his voice quiet and close to my ears. “Good or bad?”
“Good,” I say.
He repeats the technique on my other arm and both my legs. Then he gently massages my scalp and my face with the pads of his fingers. As I miraculously drift off to sleep with the pain gradually receding, I can feel him going to work on my feet.
When I wake up, it’s completely dark. I’m warm. The pain is subsiding toward manageable, and best of all, Grizz is still here in my bed, his heat radiating off him.
I turn over to face him.
“You awake, D?”
“Yeah. I s’pose I better have a key made for you so you don’t lose your shit when I fail to answer my phone each time I have a flare-up.”
His beefy hand pets my hair. “Since I’ll be moving in with you, giving me a key is a foregone conclusion.”
A smile spreads across my face and a tear of happiness flows out along with the tears of pain.
“Grizz,” I croak, “that might be the first time you’ve ever been bossy with me.”
“Yeah, I know. But I’m serious.”
“You don’t have to move in just to take care of me,” I say.
“Let me finish. I have my first real, legitimate fight coming up tomorrow, and after that, I’m done. I don’t have to do this anymore. I know the whole atmosphere is a trigger for you. And I’ve come to realize I can’t have both. I can’t fight and be able to keep you with me. So, after tomorrow, I’m giving it up for good.”
“But if it makes you happy,” I say with a watery sniff, “then I can find a way to be OK with all of it. With the shouting and the over the top personalities.”
Grizz keeps feathering his fingers over my face and weaving them through my hair, and doesn’t leave my side until this flare-up of pain is under control. That’s when I know: being with me is non-negotiable for him. I realize that now. With the way I’ve been treated most of my life, it’s still hard to believe I’d ever be wanted so badly, but I have to get used to it. I have to if this is going to work between us.
“Grizz, I’d rather work on myself than make you quit something you love to do. I’d be happy to come to your first fight.”
Chapter Ten
Dylan
When I finish my shift on Friday, the day of the fight, my boss Elaine calls me into her office. Although she’s been very understanding about my condition, my thoughts go to worst case scenario.
I don’t blame her. It’s tough to run a business while employing someone who has to take time off work sometimes because of a medical condition. I completely understand. I still hope against hope that this isn’t it.
&nb
sp; Money isn’t the issue. I have money saved. But I love working, and I especially love working for Elaine.
“Have a seat,” she says. I do, and I see that it’s not my personnel file that’s open on her desk, but a letter of some kind. “I’m announcing my retirement,” she continues. “And I’ll cut to the chase. I want you to take over as head of this office.”
I am so taken aback, I don’t know what to say for a moment. “But you’ve only been here for a few years. I feel like I’m just getting to know you. I mean, congrats on your retirement, but I’ll be very sad to see you go, and I don’t know how I’ll manage with the new administrator. You’ve done wonders with this office.”
Elaine puts her hands up. “Dylan. Slow down. Let me finish. I want you to take over my job when I retire.”
Her thinking of me so highly causes a lump to form in my throat. “But…”
“I’ve been thinking. You’ve been a damn good nurse for many years. And your flare-ups have been becoming more and more frequent. I think an office job would suit you better.”
My eyes focus on the bronze plaque on her wall. Elaine came to this job already experienced at leading an office. And I don’t have that kind of background.
“I’ll have to think about it.”
“Of course,” she says. “But don’t think about it too long. I’m turning in my notice tomorrow, and I intend to offer my two cents on who my replacement should be. It would mean a lot to me if you would agree.”
I agree to think about it and head home to change out of my scrubs and into an outfit for the evening’s event.
I can’t concentrate on getting ready because my mind is mulling over what just happened. On the one hand, it might be easier on my body if I didn’t have to deal with patients. Plus, I’d still get to see my coworkers every day. On the other hand, I would miss my patients.
Certainly, this promotion would make Grizz happier.
I’ll need the weekend to think about it.
I mentally put that problem aside and focus on another pressing matter: how does one dress to attend an MMA fight? Is it like a boxing match, where people dress up? I have no idea.
While I’m staring at my closet, there’s a buzz at the front door. I check the monitor, and it’s Maria.
“What in the world?”
I sprint to the door and let her in.
“Maria! What are you—”
The small woman is already walking past me, making a beeline for the sofa. She’s struggling with about three garment bags that are longer than she is tall, so I help her remove the garment bags and arrange the dresses on the sofa.
“I brought three dresses. Take your pick.”
“Maria, I’m confused. What are you doing here and why do you have three dresses?”
“My sister makes dresses and she said you can borrow one of these for tonight.”
“To wear to Grizz’s fight?”
She nods impatiently, like I should have caught up with what is going on by now.
“Is it normal that the fighters’ girlfriends get one-on-one wardrobe help for these events?”
She throws up her hands in a “I don’t know” sort of gesture. “I was told that this event is special, and you needed to look nice.”
My brain is firing in all different directions. Oh. Shit.
“Maria. Tell me the truth. Is Grizz planning to propose to me tonight? Because if he is, I’m gonna need you and Teddy to head him off at the pass so he doesn’t embarrass himself. We are not ready for that.”
Maria lolls her head back and barks a laugh. “Simmer down, honey, it’s nothing like that. Now which one do you want?”
I examine all three dresses and immediately disqualify the pink sequined one. The vivid green one with cut-outs is also out. But the third one takes my breath away. “Oh, Maria.”
It’s cream with a bright, modern floral pattern at the swishy hemline, with an ombre effect that turns to a shimmery golden color on top. “This one is so unique. I have to wear this one. In fact, I might just buy it off you instead of returning it.”
“Good choice, now put it on and let’s get going.”
Chapter Eleven
Grizz
My eyes scan the crowd for her as I’m warming up with Teddy. Every moment I don’t see her, my anxiety grows.
“Now remember what I told you about that spinning jump kick. Stop trying to show off and just get the job done.”
But I barely see Teddy’s grizzled face trying to amp me up for the fight. In my tunnel vision, I suddenly see the most radiant angel that ever graced heaven or earth. My Dylan is here, as she said she would be, but she looks different. She would look heavenly if she showed up in a t-shirt and jeans, but in that floral dress, her hair pinned up with soft tendrils hanging down, and—whoa—makeup? I never thought I liked a lot of makeup on women but she looks magical. I feel a tightness in my stomach when I look at her. It hurts that I’m not touching her, kissing her, right now. Feeling her soft skin against mine.
She spots me before she sits down and blows me a kiss. I catch it and give her a wink, much to Teddy’s chagrin. He’s miffed that I’m not paying the slightest bit of attention to him.
Shit. This is really going to suck if she hates her birthday present.
I keep a close eye on Dylan while I warm up. I watch her eyes as she peruses the program, then I see her cover her mouth with one hand. She looks up, holds up the program, and I have to lip read.
“Did you do this?” she asks.
I lift one shoulder and give her a shy grin. Yeah, I did do that.
The security guards make the mistake of blocking her way when she tries to get to me. She’s about ready to drop kick one of them, when I step in.
“It’s OK, guys. That’s my girl.”
They let her pass and she leaps at me, wrapping her arms and legs around me, not even caring that she’s wearing a dress. I could easily grab her ass up under this flowy dress right now—shit, I really, really want to—but I have to push through that urge. I’m not the most well-mannered dude, but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t fly out here in public.
“Thank you,” she says, heaving a sob into my shoulder.
“Happy birthday, Sweets,” I say.
“You are the best boyfriend in the whole world, and I love you.”
“I love you too,” I say, giving her a squeeze. Her head comes up to kiss me, and we devour each other, much to the cheers and whistles of everyone in the audience.
“OK, but listen, babe, this isn’t professional wrestling. I’m not actually supposed to put on a show before the bell. And you don’t have to stay and watch if this crowd is too much for you.”
She slides down and circles my waist with her arms, looking up at me with all sincerity.
“I’m not going anywhere, Grizz. Not ever again.”
I kiss her again before she goes to her seat. I want to put on a good fight for everyone, but at the same time I hope the bloodshed is minimal because injuries are going to impose on the plans I have for my girl later on.
It’s almost time for the match, and the referee makes his way into the octagon, holding a mic. His voice booms over the loudspeaker. “We have a special announcement. If you look at your programs, you’ll see that both fighters and their sponsors have generously decided to donate all proceeds from tonight’s match to the fibromyalgia research fund. All told, with ticket sales and additional donations, tonight’s match has raised $15,000 for that charity. And, I’m told”—he unfolds his program to read the words I’ve written down—“this is being done in honor of Dylan Daniels for her 30th birthday. I think a song is in order. What do you folks think?”
I did not plan for everyone to sing Happy Birthday to my girlfriend tonight, so when I look over at Dylan, I give her the biggest full-body cringe I can muster to let her know that a serenade was not part of my plan.
Her face is beet red and her eyes are shooting me with flame-tipped arrows, but her smile is a thousand watts. I
know her birthday is still a week away, but no way would I plan a fight on the night of her actual birthday. I may be a bit of a dumbass, but I know that much.
When the opening bell rings and I tap gloves with my opponent, I realize I’m having the opposite feeling I usually have going into the zone. For months now I’ve been turning off my feelings, or using my frustration and anxiety to fuel me. But tonight I feel nothing but joy.
Dylan has made me feel no pain. Nothing else matters as long as I have her in my life. And whether this is my first fight or my last, it doesn’t matter, because my woman is proud of me.
Chapter Twelve
Grizz
Where’d she go?
Fuck.
The fight is over. With Dylan on my side, I won in the first round. I knocked him down, and he didn’t expect some of the special jiu jitsu moves that Teddy specializes in. Although both of us are light heavyweights, I’m simply longer and leaner, and his muscles couldn’t handle the strain.
And now, all the spectators are gone, and I can’t find Dylan anywhere. All I know is, when I left the arena to head to the locker room to shower and go over the tape of the match with Teddy, I got a text from Dylan.
“G, don’t you dare leave without me.”
“I wouldn’t dare, Sweets.”
And now, she’s not answering my texts. Is this some kind of a joke? Or, worse, did she change her mind and decide to go AWOL on me, again?
I can’t have this. I won’t let her disappear on me again.
I text her for the third time since I finished going over the tapes with Teddy. “Sweets. Where the fuck are you?”
But as soon as I hit send, I sense her coming up behind me in the darkened arena.
I’m so startled I drop my phone. I don’t bother to pick it up, because the sensation of Dylan’s lips pressed against my back has me shuddering instantly.