Dear Ms Holland...final notice...we understand due to your recent medical circumstances...however...leniency has already been extended...repeated warnings...rent severely overdue...debt collectors have been issued.
Tegan had been kicked out of her apartment. Must have only been yesterday or the day before. Fiona looked down again at the items. This was all she had now. This hospital room was her home. She had no private health insurance for cancer treatments. Everything done to her was coming out of her pocket. And she had missed so much work. “Oh, Teegs.”
Finally, the curtains were drawn back. Fiona held a breath, studying the body language of the nurses as they each left the room. Tegan was still, yet with the mask on. But was she breathing? Were the machines still beeping? She couldn’t tell either from here.
“She’s stable,” one of them said. “But we got lucky, another few seconds...”
“What happened?”
“Not entirely sure. Near as I can figure, it was a panic attack. She’s just too weak to handle too much stress. Her heart can’t take it. I’ll have the doctor come and see her as soon as possible, but you have to promise me. No more fighting. Right?”
Fiona nodded quickly, terror inching through her that Tegan’s sudden drop was somehow her fault for pushing her to watch the fight. “Of course. No problem.”
* * *
Owen woke with his father bent over him, holding a compress to his head.
“Stay. Still,” Robert seethed, barely moving his lips. “Now, you and I are going to have a chat. Right here and now. No bullshit. No games. I want to know what the fuck is going on. You haven’t been yourself ever since you came back from Sydney. That was the sloppiest I’ve ever seen you fight, and it matches the garbage you served up during training. Then, you let that absolute fuckwit provoke you. Congratulations. Any mental advantage you might have had over him is gone. You don’t intimidate him. Now, he knows he owns you. He was baiting you, and you fell right into it. Now, I’m going to ask again. What is going on with you?”
Owen held the compress, and Robert let go, standing straight before sitting down next to the gurney Owen laid on. Owen proceeded to tell Robert everything. Since his last fight, he had been seeing the woman Robert met at the meet and greet. She had found out she was pregnant and also sick. She had recently undergone surgery to help her but had the pregnancy terminated per medical advice. She had ended things between them on that day. He hadn’t spoken to her since. That’s why he lashed out at the reporter and Diaz. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help it.
Robert was silent for the longest time, running his finger along his chin.
“I knew what you were going to say. There was no point in telling you. I won’t say anything to the papers. I won’t tell them the truth because it would put her name out there. I won’t betray her. She’s a good person; she doesn’t deserve the media on her. I don’t care what they say about me. She is innocent in all this—”
“Enough. Hang on.”
Robert slowly reached out for Owen’s free hand, holding it firm. “I’m sorry, son.”
Owen hadn’t realised, until then, how close he was to crying. But Robert obviously had. The emotion, the genuine sorrow, in his father’s voice, who only cared about the Cage and anything concerning it, was too much for Owen. The ice pack dropped as Owen grit his teeth. The tears leaked out of his eyes so fast he couldn’t hide them, though he tried.
Robert stood and sat Owen up, holding him by the shoulders, Owen’s forehead against his stomach, giving him steady pats until he calmed down.
“I didn’t expect you to react that way,” Owen said, sniffling.
“You don’t know me very well then, do you?”
“I know you better than anyone.”
Robert took his time and sat down next to Owen, giving a long sigh. “I’ve been hard on you all these years because I had to be. I never wanted this life for you. But it’s not about me. It’s about you. I trained you harder than I ever did, and you responded. You wanted this. You craved this. You loved this. As hard as it was for me to admit, this is what you were born to do. I was so proud I got to be a part of it, even a small part. But I can’t deny there always has been a part of me that wondered would you be happier with someone special in your life. This is so lonely. It can be an empty existence once the lights go down and the crowd goes home. Who do you have to go home to? A crusty old father. Why is there such booze and drugs in this community? Hence, the need for testing? The adrenaline is addictive, and you’ll take it where you can. So, you pop your pills, snort your coke or...cheat on your wife and destroy your family.”
“Dad,” Owen started. It wasn’t necessary to go down this path again. It was done. But Robert waved a hand.
“I failed, son. I faced a test in life, and I failed. I was so terrified you were going to do the same thing and waste your talent. But you were so wonderfully different. Mentally strong. Nothing could break your focus. Until she came along.”
“She isn’t a test, Dad.”
“No.” Robert shook his head. “No, she’s not. She’s obviously very special.”
“For the first time in my life, I have absolutely no idea what I am supposed to do.”
Owen met his father’s eyes as Robert said simply, “Don’t let her go.”
“If only it were that easy. She doesn’t want to see me. She hates me fighting. Is it worth being with someone when you have to give up the thing you’ve worked so hard for? Does that mean I have to lose a part of what makes me who I am? Then again...I’ve never felt like this before.”
“Son, champions rise and fall. No matter how good you are, there’s always somebody better somewhere. Being a great fighter means understanding it’s a choice that you have to keep making again and again. If there’s something else out there, you have to go for it. Real intimacy with another person? If you’re lucky enough to find it, is worth holding on to.”
“Even if I have to give all this up, for her?”
“Is she worth it?”
Owen took a minute to answer. Surprisingly, there was no real hesitation in his response. “Yes, but that’s not my point. Fighting is who I am. What am I if I’m not in the ring? Who am I? I’ve spent so long chasing this dream, and now she’s woken me up. I remember the dream. I still want it. But she’s my reality.”
Robert smiled. “You know, as much as I’ll miss this, and I would’ve loved to see you kick that cunt’s ass, I’m happy for you, son. But I need to ask you this. Are you prepared for the fact she could die? I don’t mean you’re going to regret choosing her. I just mean have you prepared internally? Have you accepted you might only get a few precious weeks with her?”
“What better memories to give her, though. But it’s a moot point. She doesn’t want to see me.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
Chapter Twelve
Tegan coughed and woke up. The oxygen mask over her face surprised her, and as she went to pull at the straps her hand was stopped.
“Tegan... Tegan, I’m Dr. Matthews. Can you hear me?”
She nodded as best she could, but the air through the mask was colder than she was used to and it hurt her throat. Her coughing didn’t stop. The pain from her throat suddenly hit her stomach, and Tegan lurched forward, removing the mask and coughing up a glob of blood before vomiting over the side of the bed.
By the time she had fallen back onto the bed, Dr. Matthews had administered an injection into the tube in her hand. She felt her queasiness subside, and eventually, her coughing did too. He gently replaced the mask over her face, and Tegan found she could breathe normally enough to utter, “I’m sorry.”
Dr. Matthews shook his head. “It’s alright. I need to speak to you when you’re ready. You’ve been out almost two days. You had a funny turn in the room here. We ran some more tests and...unfortunately, we didn’t find anything good.”
He spoke clearly and softly enough for Tegan to know this was serious. “W
hat does that mean?”
“Your body hasn’t been responding as well to the treatment as we would like, and I’m afraid that means you’ve likely progressed to stage three where your other ovary is affected.”
Tegan heard her heart monitor spike as the words washed over her. There was a long pause. Too long. But she was terrified to ask the question. Eventually, though, she just had to. “Am I going to die?”
Dr. Matthews gave a smile that was both heartbreaking and slightly reassuring. “Not if we can help it. We have one last bout of chemo to go. If that does nothing to improve the situation, we’ll have to go a full hysterectomy.”
Tegan blinked away the moisture leaking out of her eyes. She had her eggs frozen for this reason, or for something like this, but the thought of being cut open again, more of her insides being removed, made her feel like she was just parts. That her humanity had been stripped away slowly.
“Everything else being well, though, Tegan, you should be able to go home in a few days,” he offered cheerfully.
She turned to her side and sobbed. She had no home. Not anymore. She had applied for rent assistance, yet that only covered a quarter of what she needed. She had gone to work on all of her shifts for as long as she could, but the shaking in her hands made punching the orders on the screen so difficult. Her hands couldn’t even hold the hot take away cups without burning herself. Her boss had been as supportive as he could, but he had a business to run. She hadn’t been fired, but she had been told to not come back until she was well.
Which was fine, except the real estate agents representing her landlords had been stretched to the limit on the ‘be nice to the sick girl’ mindset. She didn’t blame them; they too had a business to run. What she would do was anyone’s guess. She needed to have a plan. But right now? All she could concentrate on was not throwing up again.
The hand on her shoulder was warm and gentle but in no way comforting. “Please, go away,” she blubbered.
He removed his hand but said before leaving, “Please, try not to give up, Tegan. Even if hope is all we have, it’s something.”
The words were kind, but their meaning was lost.
Chapter Thirteen
Owen had to wait for visiting hours to open, but he managed to sneak in wearing his customary hoodie and shades. He had no idea if the disguise served to make him inconspicuous or intimidating, but he had rarely been identified when going out. Truthfully, as word of him quitting the sport filtered out more and more, he wondered what the reaction would be. He had already seen a newspaper article where Diaz claimed responsibility for retiring the great pretender with one punch. It hurt to read, but fuck it. Let him keep talking. It’s what he is best at.
He had scrunched up the newspaper and tossed it in the nearest bin. So...no more media for a while. He was here for a reason. He made his way up to her room, and to his surprise, she was asleep, as was Fiona, sitting in a chair by her bed. Fiona opened her eyes and looked at him. She smiled, checked if Tegan was awake and beckoned him to sit on her chair. She quietly got up, kissed him on the cheek and rubbed his arm.
She left the two of them alone, but Owen didn’t take the seat. Instead, he sat on Tegan’s bed. His heart broke at the sight of her. Not for how she looked, but for what she’d been through the weight loss, her hair, the mask.
It only reinforced his view that he had done the right thing. This is where he was needed. He reached for her face and gently brushed her cheek with the knuckles of his fingers. She stirred briefly but didn’t wake until he placed a hand on her head, caressing her spiky scalp with his thumb and said, “Hey, beautiful. It’s time to wake up.”
Tegan turned her head and looked at him. It was one second, maybe two, before she spoke, “I better be dreaming. You better not be here.”
“Why?” he asked, smiling.
As an answer, she sat upright and hugged him. “Coz I missed you,” she groaned into his shoulder, emotions overtaking her. “I’m so sorry for the things I said. I didn’t mean them.”
“Hey... Hey… It’s OK. I understand.”
“No,” She sat back, her breathing obvious from the inside of the clear mask. “It’s not OK. I was so horrible to you.”
“I know why you did it. You weren’t wrong. You were just trying to help me.”
“Is that why you came back? To tell me that?”
Owen touched her face gently. “I just had to see you.”
He moved in to kiss her cheek, but she leant back, blinking, not keeping eye contact. He tapped the mask. “Do you have to wear that all the time?”
Tegan shook her head. “They said just for the night to help me breathe. Just in case.” Owen took that as permission, removing it and placing it on the bed. He moved in for a kiss, but again she slinked away.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“No, I’m sorry. I just... I don’t feel right.”
Owen nodded his head and gripped her hand. “It’s OK. Totally fine. So anyway, what did the doctor say?”
Tegan rattled off all she knew up to that point, and none of it made for light reading. But Owen wasn’t there for any reason other than to help. “How long do you have to stay?”
“I’ve done my rounds until Monday, but…I thought I might as well stay.”
“Here? In the hospital?”
“Yeah... It’s just easier.”
“But surely, you’d be better off at home, in your bed, familiar surrounds and all that?”
Tegan shifted in her bed. “Can we just drop it, please?”
Owen thought for a minute of replying but instead held her hand. “Okay.”
“Hail the conquering hero!” came Fiona’s voice from the doorway, approaching and high fiving Owen. Now Tegan was awake, she could obviously congratulate him properly. “Jesus, you gave us all a heart attack against Williams. Please, tell me it was for dramatic effect. Don’t do that shit again.”
“Wish I could. But he got me good.”
“Nope, dramatic effect. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it,” she said, walking towards the bed, looking down at Tegan. “Doc says you can go home until Monday.”
“I’m not really feeling great.”
“Of course, you’re not, but if they think you’re okay to go home,” Owen started.
“No,” Tegan replied, closing her eyes, appearing to try and control her breathing, or her temper. “If I have another attack, like before, it’s best if I’m here.”
Owen again tried to respond but was stopped this time by Fiona who called his name and beckoned him outside. He excused himself and joined her.
“Look, I didn’t want to say anything in front of Teegs because it would embarrass her. She has nowhere to go. She’s been kicked out of her apartment for not paying the rent.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Don’t say anything, I’m not supposed to know. I’m going to get her to bunk with me until she gets back on her feet. Unless you want her to stay with you?”
Owen looked back and forth from the room to Fiona. “It’s probably best if she stays with you. She’s being a bit funny with me. I think I’m making her uncomfortable.”
“No. She’s been through hell. Just give her time.”
Owen nodded. “OK.”
“Speaking of going through hell, what’s this about you retiring?”
“I’m not. I’m just not fighting Diaz.”
“It’s your title shot. I don’t get it, why?”
“Because I have somewhere I’d rather be. Someone I’d rather be with.”
Fiona blinked repeatedly. “You’re giving up your dreams for Tegan?”
“Yeah,” Owen shrugged. “Let him say what he wants. I need her more than I need the title.”
“Wow,” was all Fiona could muster, though Owen did get a sense of disappointment.
“Oh, hey,” Owen started, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek. “I never thanked you for your help with Williams. You saved my arse.”
Fiona let him
kiss her but didn’t move, staring at the floor instead. “Didn’t really mean much in the end, though, did it?”
“Yeah, well. I’m doing the right thing.”
“You sure about that? The right thing for who?”
“For her.”
“What about what’s right for you?”
“She’s what’s right for me. Why are you asking?”
“It’s just you’ve never quit anything.”
“I don’t look at it as quitting. I look at it as stepping aside for personal reasons. My head isn’t right. I’ve got other priorities.”
“The Owen Gasnier I knew would’ve found a way. He never backed down from a challenge. The bigger, the better and I’ve been following your career since your second ever fight. I guess I’m just...”
“Surprised?”
Fiona raised her head. “Disappointed.”
The word actually stung him as did the severely solemn tone. “I’m sorry to let you down, but I have to do what I feel is right.”
“This isn’t right, Gaz. Somewhere inside, I think you know that. Tegan wouldn’t want you to do this for her.”
Both of them paused their conversation as Tegan stopped by the doorway. “Wouldn’t want you to do what?”
Owen was prepared to tell her the truth right then but quick as a flash, Fiona cut across him. “Let you stay in his apartment. Until you come back, you’re coming home with me.”
“Fi—”
“Do not forget the eleventh commandment, heathen sow; thou shall not give shit to Fiona lest the smacketh down ye be layed with.”
“Fi, really, I don’t want to bother—”
“Bitch, my pimp hand is strong. Shut it. Gaz, can you help get her things into my car. Then why don’t you come around for dinner, say six thirty? Yes? Good plan? Of course, it is. I said it. So it is written. So it shall be done.”
Owen moved to collect Tegan’s things, hopeful the gesture would entice Tegan to simply go with it and not argue. But, upon turning, he saw both girls embracing, Fiona stroking Tegan’s hair, calming her. Perhaps they exchanged a look. Maybe words weren’t necessary between them. But Owen got the distinct impression Tegan somehow knew her housing situation wasn’t a secret anymore.
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