A Story Like Ours

by Robin Huber

  “Breezes are boring. Breezes are Drew. Sam is a storm, filled with thunder and lightning. But isn’t that what you love about him?”

  I nod and let go of the idea of a quiet life, because know I’ll never have that with Sam. “I’m sorry I woke you up. Did I wake up Paul?”

  “No, he’s still snoring away.” He rolls his eyes and laughs softly. “Hey, I know something that will cheer you up.” He gets up and opens the curtains, and soft sunlight fills the room. “Let’s go shopping for the new house.”

  I sniff and smile at him. “Okay.”

  “Get up, get a shower, brush your teeth.” He pulls me up by my hands and I stand in front of him. “You’ll feel better, I promise. I’ll go make some coffee.”

  “Okay.”

  He leaves the room and I gather my clothes off the back of the green tufted armchair in the corner. I choose my stretchy gray Henley dress and a pair of sneakers.

  After my shower, I dry my hair and pull it up into a messy bun on the top of my head. I grab my bag and my sunglasses and meet Sebastian in the kitchen.

  “Ready?” he asks, handing me a to-go cup of coffee while looking effortlessly casual in a scoop-neck black and white striped T-shirt, navy blue slacks, and crisp white sneakers.

  “Yep.”

  We drive through the city, going from store to store, and I follow Sebastian around as he picks out furniture and various pieces of décor he thinks would be perfect for my and Sam’s new house.

  “I like this,” I say, rubbing my hand over a faux fur blanket that’s draped over the back of a leather chair. It’s marbled with beige and brown and gray lines that blend together.

  “Looks like wolf fur,” Bas says, and I move my hand away.

  “Then Sam wouldn’t like it.”

  He pauses and looks at me. “Why?”

  “He has a thing with wolves.”

  Bas gives me a funny look, but I only notice it for a moment. My heart takes off in a sprint when I see who’s behind him, and my stomach tightens under my dress.

  “Lucy,” Drew says, making his way around a large wooden table that’s separating us.

  Sebastian’s eyes widen and he mouths, Is that Drew?

  I ignore him and keep my eyes on Drew, afraid that if I look away I might not be able to keep my feet from carrying me to the nearest exit.

  “Hey,” he says, standing in front of me, and something about his familiar voice resonates deep inside me.

  “Hi, Drew,” I say, sounding as surprised as I am.

  Sebastian turns around and looks at him. “Hello, Drew. It’s nice to see you,” he says cordially, and I give him a quick glance.

  “Hi, Sebastian. How have you been?”

  “I’ve been well. Thanks.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Drew says, looking at me again, staring for a second too long. “You look…you look great, Luc.” He glances down at my stomach and shakes his head. “Wow.” He smiles softly and it tugs hard at my heart. “It’s a good look on you.”

  I press my lips together and tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Thanks,” I say quietly.

  He eyes the engagement ring on my hand. “So when’s the big day?” He smiles over the sadness in his eyes, and I see the life we were supposed to have reflected in them.

  “We, um, we haven’t set a date yet.” I smile uncomfortably. “Maybe after the baby’s born.”

  He puts his hands in his pockets and looks at my stomach again. “I can’t believe you’re going to be a mom.”

  “Me neither,” I say with wide eyes, trying to pretend that a piece of my heart isn’t breaking for him.

  “You’re going to be really great,” he says sincerely, and it squeezes my heart so hard I can barely breathe.

  “Lucy, wasn’t there something you were meaning to talk to Drew about?” Sebastian says, looking at me expectantly.

  “What?” I blink up at him and he gives me a knowing look. “Oh, right,” I say, finding my way out of the emotional rabbit hole I fell into. I look at Drew. “Drew, I um, I don’t know if you got my letter or not, but—”

  “If this is about the studio, Lucy…it’s yours. I wanted you to have it. There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Is that why you didn’t call?”

  “I got your letter,” he says, dropping his chin, “but I just didn’t know what else to say.”

  “Drew, I know you want to give me the studio, and I’m so grateful, but…” I reach into my purse and pull out the deed that’s been burning a hole in it for the better part of a month. “I can’t accept it.” I hand it to him. “I signed it back over to you.”

  “Lucy.”

  “We can be as out soon as you need, but if you could give me a few weeks, that would really help.”

  He gives me a look that tugs at my heart. “Take as much time as you need.”

  I open my mouth to thank him, but before I can get any words out, a tall, pretty brunette with a bright white smile walks over to us. “There you are,” she sings in a soft southern accent, putting her hand on Drew’s back. “I thought I lost you.” She looks at us and smiles. “He hates when I drag him around from store to store like this.”

  Drew looks at me and says, “Lucy, this is Katherine. My girlfriend.”

  The word catches me off guard and although I have no right whatsoever to feel any kind of jealousy, I do. “Hi,” I say over the feeling in my chest, and reach out to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” I smile at her.

  “Lucy? The Lucy?”

  I give Drew a curious look. “I guess so.”

  “I’m sorry, I just never expected to actually meet you. Now that you’re famous and all.”

  “It was bound to happen eventually,” Drew says to her.

  “I’m not famous,” I say quietly, shaking my head.

  “Just look at you,” she says, eyeing my stomach. “How far along are you?”

  “Oh, um, around seven months,” I say guardedly, and I feel Sebastian tense beside me.

  “Well, you didn’t waste any time, did you?” She smiles over the insult disguised by her pleasant voice.

  “So, who are you, what do you do?” Bas asks, dropping his head to the side.

  “I’m Katherine Campbell.” She smiles and reaches out to shake his hand. “Second vice president of the AWC.”

  He shakes her hand and squints his eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know that acronym.”

  “The Atlanta Women’s Club.”

  “Ahhh. Okay.” He presses his lips together and bobs his head. He smiles at me, then smiles at her. “Makes sense,” he says, crinkling his eyes.

  “You must be Sebastian Ford. Lucy’s assistant, right?”

  “I am, yes.”

  “Not today. Today, he’s just my friend.” I wink at him.

  “Aren’t you lucky to have him to do this sort of thing.” She glances around the store. “I bet Sam hates shopping.”

  “Um…” I shake my head, unsure what to say and annoyed by her presumption.

  “We should get going,” Drew says, giving me a small smile.

  “Yes, we don’t want to miss our lunch reservation. I’m starving,” she says, putting her hand on her flat stomach.

  “Okay,” I say, watching her wrap her long, skinny, French-manicured fingers around his arm.

  He pulls away and leans in to give me a hug. I reach around him and awkwardly pat his back. But he squeezes me in his arms and says quietly, “It was really good to see you.”

  “You too,” I say to him before he releases me.

  “Nice meeting y’all,” Katherine says, pulling Drew away.

  When they’re gone, Sebastian falls into an oversized chair and pulls me into his lap. “Oh, my God.” He puts his hand on my stomach and speaks to the baby, “Don’t worry, you never have to see that mean lady ever again.”

  I laugh softly. “She wasn’t that bad.”

  “She totally insulted you, and what was with that smug look? I’m president of t
he AWC,” he says in a high-pitched voice.

  “Second vice president. Get it right.”

  “Oh, pardon me.”

  “Janice must love her,” I say, widening my eyes dramatically.

  “Oh my God, Drew’s going to marry his mother!”

  “What? Who said anything about them getting married?”

  “Oh, as if Drew could escape those claws. It’s inevitable.”

  “Yeah.” I shrug. “You’re probably right. But good for him. He deserves to be happy.”

  “You’re right. He deserves her,” he says, smirking.

  “Sebastian. You just never liked Drew—Ow!” I put my hand on my stomach, which is promptly followed by Sebastian’s.

  “What is it?” he asks, alarmed.

  I inhale a deep breath and put my hand over his. “Do you feel that?”

  “Yeah, your stomach is like a rock.”

  “It’s a contraction.”

  His eyes get big and he sits up straight, moving me with him. “It’s too early for contractions,” he says, panicked.

  “It’s just a Braxton Hicks, not the real thing. I’ve been getting them a lot lately. The doctor said stress can bring them on.” I raise my eyebrows at him.

  “Oh. Well, I thought shopping would decrease your stress level, but clearly I’ve steered you awry. Let me make it up with lunch?”

  I smile at him. “Lunch sounds good. But nowhere that takes reservations, okay?”

  “Made-to-order tacos it is.”

  Chapter 18

  Sam

  Tristan leans over and puts his hands on his knees for a few seconds to catch his breath.

  I stop walking and put my hand on his shoulder. “You okay, you need to take a break?”

  He shakes his head and stands back up. “No.” He starts walking again. “Doctor said I have to push myself.”

  “Okay.” I walk beside him.

  He smiles wide and laughs. “Who would have ever thought a walk around Piedmont Park would be pushing myself.”

  “It’s been a couple of miles. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  He puts his hand over his heart and says, “Come on, Joe, we can go a little farther.”

  I look over at him. “It’s weird, isn’t it? It’s like he’s still here or something.”

  “Tell me about it. I love the guy, but when Molly wants to take my clothes off, I feel like he’s in the room with us.”

  “Ahh, she probably wouldn’t mind.” I smirk.

  “Hey, now, don’t talk about my girl like that.”

  I hold my hands up. “Sorry, sorry.”

  “Speaking of girls, what’s going on with you and Lucy? You guys work everything out yet?”

  “No. She’s still staying at Sebastian’s.”

  “It’s been a few days now, hasn’t it? You’re okay with that?”

  “No, I’m not okay with it. But what am I going to do about it? She wants some time to herself, so that’s what I’m giving her. She says stress isn’t good for the baby, and that we can start fresh when we move at the end of the month.”

  “The end of the month? What about New York?”

  “She said she wants to go alone.” I shrug over the disappointment digging into my heart.

  “But you’re still going to go, right?”

  “Not if she doesn’t want me to.”

  “Sam, you have to go. She wants you to, believe me.”

  I exhale a heavy breath and shake my head. “I’ve already messed things up enough with Lucy. I don’t want to overshadow her big moment in New York by making my first public appearance since the fight. Any media attention she gets should be about her, not about me losing to Crawford, especially when all anyone wants to do is give me crap about it. She doesn’t need that kind of negativity right now.”

  Tristan stops walking and stands in front of me. “That sounds like an excuse to me.”

  “What?”

  “You lost a fight, Sam. Get over it already. Everybody else has. Including the media.” He gives me an unapologetic look and shrugs. “Shit happens. But it’s over now. You know why you lost that fight. You didn’t have Joe, you didn’t have me, you let that Torino guy get inside your head, and it fucked you up. But he’s gone now. Now you’ve got me,” he says confidently.

  I look at him and ask, “You sure you’re going to be ready? You’ve been away from the ring a while.”

  He waves me off and starts walking again. “You don’t worry about me, all right? It’s what’s in here,” he says, pointing to his head. “And here.” He points to his heart. “Me and Joe got your back. You’re going to beat Carey Valentine. And you’re going to retire like a fucking champ.” He holds his fist up and I hit it with mine.

  “Lucy’s not going to like it.”

  “She agreed that you would finish out your contract, right?”

  “Yeah, before Las Vegas. Now she thinks I’m going to be punch-drunk before the baby even gets here.”

  “Well,” he says, “after that fight, can you blame her?”

  “No. I guess not.”

  “Look, I just got a new heart. I plan on being around a long time, and I plan on my best friend being around with me. I don’t want to see you punch-drunk either.” He looks over at me and holds his hand up to his chin. “Drool all coming out of your mouth, rambling on about the weather.” He laughs and so do I. “I’m not going to let that happen. You tell Lucy that. You’re going to be ready for Carey Valentine. You’re going to beat him, and you’re going to do it the right way, the way Joe would’ve wanted you to. Without getting punched in the head too much, understand?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ll start training tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  We walk a little farther, until we get to a bench where Tristan can sit down, and I sit down next to him.

  “It’s fucking beautiful, isn’t it?” he says, looking at the lake and the green trees reflecting on its surface like a mirror. The tall buildings in the distance frame the view.

  “Yeah. A lot different than where we grew up.”

  “Now look at us.” He grins at me. “Kings.”

  I huff and ask, “Of what castle?”

  “Dude, you need something to cheer you up. You want to go get a tattoo or something?”

  “Today?”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  I look at my blank forearm, a stark contrast to the sleeve on my other arm. “I’ve been thinking about getting a new one, but I haven’t made an appointment with Pete yet.”

  “You’re Sam Cole, you don’t need an appointment.”

  “I’m glad you think so, but Pete Masters is the best tattoo artist in the city. He’s always booked solid.”

  “You’re Sam Cole,” he says again. “One of the best boxers of all time. I think he’ll fit you in.”

  * * *

  I lie back in the black leather chair in Pete’s studio with my eyes closed, listening to the buzz of the tattoo gun as he carefully paints Lucy’s face on my forearm.

  “Holy shit,” Tristan says, and I open my eyes. “That’s incredible.”

  Pete stays focused on his work, oblivious to Tristan standing over him as he layers shades of gray ink on my arm, replicating a picture of Lucy that I showed him. I took it one morning when she wasn’t looking. Her face is turned to the side and her blue eyes are lit by the morning sun coming in our bedroom. Her blond hair is falling around her face in loose waves, and her full lips are parted slightly. It’s my favorite picture of her.

  “I thought Lucy was the best artist I knew, but”—he shakes his head—“Pete’s giving her a run for her money.”

  “So how does it look?” I ask, pointing at Tristan’s chest.

  He pulls up his shirt and shows me the initials he had tattooed over his heart, next to the long scar that now runs down the middle of his chest. JPM.

  “Joseph Patrick Maloney.”

  “The one and only,” he says, lowering his shirt. “Hope he’s
smiling about it, wherever he is.”

  “It’s Joe we’re talking about. You know where he is.”

  He pulls up a chair, sits down beside me, and watches Pete work. “You think he’s with his parents?”

  I nod, ignoring the sting of the tattoo needle scraping across my skin. “Yeah, I do. I think he’s in a good place.”

  “Me too.”

  Chapter 19

  Lucy

  I watch the familiar New York City skyline come into view as we descend through the clouds and approach JFK airport. I recall the last trip I made to the city to watch Sam fight Mario Sanchez at Madison Square Garden. I put my hand on my stomach and gaze out at the buildings and skyscrapers that fill the horizon, reflecting on how much my life has changed since then.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re beginning our decent into John F. Kennedy International Airport,” the pilot says over the speaker. “We should be on the ground in just a few minutes, but until then, please stay seated with your seat belt on. Thank you.”

  “It’s weird, isn’t it?” Sebastian says, leaning over my shoulder to look out of the window.

  “What?”

  “Everything that’s happened since the last time we were in New York.”

  I give him a suspicious look. How is he always inside my head?

  “Who knew that the Cole-Sanchez fight would change my life,” he muses, and I laugh. “I don’t think anyone in the world could have convinced me that less than a year later, you’d be pregnant with Sam Cole’s baby.” He sighs and rests his chin in his hand.

  “Me neither.” I shake my head and frown. “Or that we’d also be fighting.”

  “You’re not fighting. You’re taking a mutual break.”

  “That’s what people do before they get divorced. And we’re not even married yet.”

  “People get divorced because they don’t know when to take a break. It was the right thing to do. You’ll see.”

  “Bas and I took a break before we got married,” Paul says, joining the conversation.

  “What? You did? You never told me that,” I say to Bas.

  “It was a long time ago. Paul wanted to move to Florida, and I wanted to stay in Atlanta.”

  “So what happened?”