by Ash, Nikki
I make it out of the garage when I stop and get out, running back inside to leave him a note in case this is all a misunderstanding and he comes home to find me gone. Then I head to the next street over to my parents. I could have just walked, but it’s still dark outside and I want to get there as fast as possible.
When I get to their house and don’t see Marco’s car, a large lump forms in my throat making it hard to swallow properly. This is not good. I walk up to the front door and it’s locked, so I grab my keys, and with shaky hands—after missing the lock twice—unlock my parents’ front door, rushing to unarm the alarm. I am immediately greeted by my dog, Elsa. Her moves are slower, but her tail is wagging, ecstatic to see me. I bend down and let her lick my face. She’s getting older and I know it’s only a matter of time before she’ll go to doggy heaven. The thought makes me sad.
“Hey there, girl.” I pet her for a minute before heading upstairs to find my baby girl. Before I make it to the stairs, though, I see my dad sitting on the couch with Micaela in his arms. He’s holding her in one arm while feeding her with the other.
“Dad.” The tears prick my eyes, and all I want in this moment is for my father to hold me. I sit next to him, my head resting on his shoulder, while he feeds my little girl. When she’s done, he lifts her over his shoulder and burps her. I put my hands out and he hands her to me. He hasn’t said a word to me yet, and I appreciate it.
“Hey, sweet girl.” I give her a soft kiss on her cheek, then extending my legs and putting my feet up on the coffee table, I lay her small body vertically on my thighs. She wiggles a little, her arms flaring up, and a small trace of a smile graces us.
“The last few days she’s started to smile a little,” I say. When my dad doesn’t say anything back, I add, “Thank you for taking care of her.” The last word comes out higher as the tears begin to fall. My dad puts his arm around me and says, “She reminds me so much of you as a baby. As you know, I didn’t get to see you when you were a baby, so when I finally met you, I was upset at having missed out on so much. Your mom gave me a book of photos. I spent months staring at them, trying to memorize every moment, every memory I missed. She has your nose.”
Without being able to look at him, I say, “He left.”
My dad’s arm around me tightens and I know he’s trying hard to keep his temper in check. “You’re going to have to give me more than that, sweetie.”
“I don’t know, Dad. We, umm…we…last night.” I look at him to make sure he’s following along and he gives me a slight nod, his jaw clenching. “And this morning, I woke up and he was gone. His phone, his car. Gone. No note, nothing. I tried calling and texting, but his phone is turned off.”
My dad doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Then he says, “I’m going to kill him.” The words are spoken so soft and cold and without any emotion, they give me goose bumps.
“I thought this time would be different, Dad.” The tears are starting to drop faster. I swipe up a few but eventually stop trying. It’s pointless. “I thought this time he wouldn’t run.”
“Bella?” I look up and see my mom at the bottom of the stairs. “What happened, honey?”
“Marco left,” my dad answers for me.
“Oh no, did you two get into a fight?” She comes over and sits on the love seat across from my dad and me.
“No, but…” I dread saying the next part. “It’s not the first time he’s run.”
“What do you mean? He’s left you and Micaela? Why didn’t you tell us?”
“No, when we kissed for the first time, he left for California. Then when we were together the first time, he left again afterward. The night Micaela was created, he passed out afterward because he had been high. I didn’t know it at the time. Umm… when I tried to tell him I was pregnant and saw him doing drugs I told Caleb, and when Marco found out, he burst into my apartment and told me I was dead to him. He ran from getting help and from me.”
I take a deep breath, trying to get control of my emotions. “It’s what he does; he runs.” I pick Micaela up and hold her close, inhaling her sweet baby scent.
“I’m going to call Hayley. Maybe something happened.” My mom stands and goes in search of her phone. A few minutes later she comes back, shaking her head. “Neither of them have heard from him. They said if they do, they’ll let us know.”
Seeing that Micaela has fallen asleep, I place her in the rolling bassinet, giving her a soft kiss to her temple. “Could you guys watch her a little longer? I’m going to go for a run.”
“Why don’t you come to the gym with me after breakfast?” my dad suggests. I told him yesterday I have been cleared to train again.
“Okay.”
After breakfast—one that I’m sure tasted delicious but I could barely taste, let alone enjoy—I breastfeed Micaela and pump what’s left, bottling it up for later in case I’m not back from the gym in time for her to eat. When I insist on taking my car to the gym, my dad follows me to my house so I can get changed. I think he was hoping to see Marco so he could lay into him for leaving.
I, on the other hand, was hoping to see Marco so I know he’s okay and could explain why he left. I change into a pair of yoga pants, a sports bra, and a loose tank top. I’m determined to work off what’s left of the baby weight I’ve put on and more importantly gain my muscle and strength back. I worked out my entire pregnancy, but not like I would have had I not been pregnant.
We walk into the gym at seven and the training center is already hopping. The music is blaring and you can hear the sounds of grunts from the guys. God, I’ve missed this place. I’ve only been here once since I’ve been back to show the guys Micaela. Marco didn’t want to come, saying my dad wouldn’t be happy with him going into the gym.
“I’m going to warm up and go for a run.”
“Okay, sweetie. Then maybe we can get some training in.”
“Sounds good, Dad.”
I turn the treadmill on and put my headphones in, clicking on my favorite playlist. Eminem’s ‘Till I collapse fills my ears. It was my dad’s intro when he was a fighter and it’s one of my favorite songs. Every single time I hear it, I get pumped up. I set the song to repeat and turn the speed up higher and higher until I’m at a steady running speed. Then I get lost in the song, in the moment, in the run, and let everything else fade around me.
“Bella!” I hear my name being called, so I remove an earbud from one of my ears and see my dad standing next to me. When I struggle to catch my breath, I click the down button to slow down. The screen reads five-point-two miles.
“Hey, sorry! I didn’t even realize I was running for so long.”
“You don’t want to overdo it on your first day back. We need to talk. Cool down and meet me in my office.”
I do as he says, and after wiping down my face, neck, and the equipment, I walk toward my dad’s office. My legs feel like Jell-O, a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time. He’s right. I do need to take it slow. I say hello to a couple different guys on my way and notice, for the first time, Mason isn’t around. “Hey, have you seen Mason lately?” I ask, sitting in one of his office chairs.
“Mason moved to California.”
“What? Really? Is he staying near Tristan?”
“He’s living with Tristan.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good. I’m glad Tristan found a roommate. So, what did you want to talk about?”
“Daniel West called.”
“The president of the UFC?” I stupidly ask because really… what other Daniel West would he be referring to?
“He said he’s planning to call you but wanted to do me the courtesy of letting me know first. He wants you to fight.”
“The one that got cancelled when I got pregnant?”
“Yeah, have you kept up with Shawna Fields?”
“Of course, she’s kicking ass and taking names.”
“Yes, she is. But those girls aren’t the same level of competition you would have been. Apparently, there�
��s a title fight coming up in a few months. He wouldn’t tell me who, said he couldn’t yet. But he wants you and Shawna to open with the first fight. It will be at the MGM. Now, because it’s not a main fight, it’s not going to pay much, but it can open the doors for you, especially if you win. Maybe get you some sponsorship opportunities. What do you think?”
“Of course I want to do it!” I grab my phone to text Marco and remember he’s still MIA. I hit his name to try to call him again and it goes to voicemail.
“Still not answering?”
“His phone is still off.”
My dad nods. “Why don’t we get a couple of hours of training in before you go pick up Micaela?”
“Sounds good.”
It’s early afternoon when I pick up Micaela from my mom. She begs me to stay for dinner, but I tell her I need some time alone. I take Micaela to the park to go for a walk, then once we get home, I give her a bath and spend the evening playing peek-a-boo with my baby girl while watching Gilmore Girls reruns. I try to call Marco several more times, but it goes to voicemail like always. I send a silent prayer that nothing is wrong. I hate that he ran again, but I would never wish him any harm.
My phone pings with a text and I see it’s Gina. Why the hell would she be texting me?
Gina: Just saw Marco drinking at Dexter’s. Guess you picked the wrong guy after all.
Dexter’s is a local bar we all used to frequent. They have the best wings known to man and have several pool tables set up in the back along with a dart board. I actually ran into Marco there a few times while I was in San Diego when we weren’t speaking. Talk about awkward. Why the hell would Marco be drinking at a bar in California? Unless—Oh my God! He left and went back to California. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction, I don’t respond, and instead lie down for a few minutes while Micaela is napping.
* * *
I wake up from what feels like a deep sleep but don’t hear Micaela, so I look over and she’s still asleep. I must have dozed off while she was taking a nap. The clock next to my bed reads 4:03 p.m. I was only asleep for two hours. My phone lights up and I’m thinking that’s what woke me up. Hoping to see something from Marco, I type in my passcode so my phone comes alive.
There are no missed calls or texts, but I notice a ton of notifications on my social media app, so I open it up and click to see what’s going on. Scrolling down, I see Marco has been tagged in a post, so I click on it. It’s a photo of Marco sitting with a woman. His arm is around her and their faces are merely inches apart. It’s too dark to see his expression, but it’s definitely him. The photo caption reads: Look who’s back!
Back where? Then I see the owner of the post is Jelly Licious. What the hell kind of fake name is that? I click the name and the profile pic is of a marijuana leaf. Real nice. Swiping left, I go through the person’s pictures until one stops me in my tracks. It’s her. Janell. The blonde bimbo I last saw Marco snorting coke with almost a year ago.
Clicking back on the picture, I look to see if she checked in when she posted the picture. Logan Heights and it was posted an hour ago. What the hell is Marco doing in California? Did he move back? Just like that?
Confused as to why I would even get this update since I never added Marco as a friend, I click on my notifications to see I was tagged in a comment. It’s from Gina.
Bella Cooper
There’s no comment, just my name so she could rub it in my face.
Looking closely at the picture, I can see the drugs on the table, and it hits me like a ton of bricks. Once again, Marco has left me. Except this time, he didn’t just leave me, he left our daughter as well. Throwing my phone against the wall, I watch it smash as it hits the wood floor, and then I grab my pillow and let the sobs come.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Marco
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!!!! This is not good. I am so fucking fucked right now! I did it again, only this time I didn’t mean to. But it isn’t going to matter that it wasn’t on purpose. It isn’t going to matter that the last eighteen hours have been hell—hours I never want to relive again. There is no way Bella is going to forgive me.
Eighteen hours ago
My phone buzzes on the nightstand and I ignore it. When it buzzes again, I grab it to make sure it isn’t Bella’s parents since they have Micaela. The caller ID reads Reese, so I slip out of bed, throwing on a clean pair of boxers and shirt, and walk outside the bedroom to answer the phone.
“Hello?”
“Marco! I’m so sorry to have called you so late but something’s happened. It’s Logan, Marco. He’s taken a turn for the worse. It’s not good. He may not live through the night.”
“What happened?” I’m already grabbing a pair of jeans from the laundry room.
“He went into cardiac arrest. They resuscitated him, but it’s not good. They are saying it can happen again.”
My phone beeps indicating it’s about to die. “I’m on my way,” I say quickly before it powers down. Thinking about nothing else other than getting to my best friend, I set my phone on the dryer so I can find some clean socks. Once I find a pair, not giving a shit if they even match, I slip them on along with my shoes. Then grabbing my keys, I get in my car and start driving west. It’s a four-hour drive from here to Sharp Hospital and I make it in less than three hours.
Pulling up to the wing he’s in, I park and check-in at the front desk. Thankfully visiting hours began a few minutes ago. They let me through and a few minutes later I’m sitting at the side of my friend’s bed. My best friend, who barely looks like himself anymore. He’s skinnier from the lack of working out and being fed through a feeding tube. His skin is a pasty white and he looks like he’s aged years instead of months.
“Hey.” I look up and see Reese standing in the doorway. I get a sudden sense of déjà vu like we were in these same positions before.
“Hey,” I say back and then turn my attention back to Logan. Reese must get I just need some time with my friend because I hear the door close. Taking Logan’s hand in mine, I put my head down against the rail and close my eyes for a few minutes. I’ve been driving since four in the morning. I’m mentally and physically drained, and on top of that, my heart is hurting for my best friend who I will most likely never have another conversation with.
“Sir! You need to move.” I feel a tapping on my shoulder causing me to jolt up. There’s a loud beeping sound going off and I realize it’s Logan. Something’s wrong. I stand to back up, sending the chair toppling over.
“Sir, you need to leave while we assess the patient.”
I’m kicked out of the room and feel sick to my stomach. Is he going to die right now? Is this the end? Not being able to be anywhere near the hospital right now, I run out the door and into my car. Before I know it, I’m sitting at the bar I used to frequent with a bottle of Jack in front of me and the first shot already poured.
It’s been over a year since I won the title fight. It’s been over a year since my best friend was put into a coma after celebrating our wins. Why the hell doesn’t it get any easier? Will it ever get easier? And while I’m sitting at this bar, Logan is probably dying, and if I’m honest it’s probably for the best because is he even really living? The thought that I just wished my friend dead is what sends me over the edge and, before I can think twice, I’m downing the shot, my body welcoming the liquid burn as it goes down my throat.
“What the hell are you doing here, man?” I look to my left and see Tristan. What are the fucking odds?
“Drowning my sorrows. You?”
“I’m meeting someone here. Is everything okay?”
I chuckle darkly. “Wouldn’t you love it if everything wasn’t.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“C’mon, like you didn’t call it. You said it yourself. I can’t be trusted, and here I am, drinking a bottle of Jack while Bella is at home with our daughter.”
“You fucking left her, again?” Tristan sneers, taking the bot
tle away from me.
“Logan went into cardiac arrest. I drove here and was in there with him when it happened again. He’s in that coma because of me.”
“Really? Don’t be a whiny bitch, Marco. You didn’t cause the accident. Don’t go playing the whole woe-is me bullshit. Does Bella know you’re here?”
I reach for my phone and can’t find it. My phone. Fuck! It’s not on me. Where the hell is my phone?
I pat my pockets as I try to think about the last time I used it. I was on the phone with Reese and it died. Shit! It’s at home. Then I remember the promise I just made last night not to leave her, yet here I am over three hundred miles away.
“No, she doesn’t know where I am.”
“Look, Marco. You have only had one shot. Have a glass of water, go check on your friend, and go home.”
“What if I can’t be what she needs? What if I’m too weak? If you wouldn’t have showed up here…”
“I watched Bella love you for most of our lives. All she needs from you is for you to love her back. Stop making her be strong enough for the both of you. Man the fuck up and stay clean.”
I drink the glass of water, then stand and put my hand out. He stands as well and pulls me into a hug. “You know she misses you, right? It’s killing her not to be able to text or call you.”
“I know. I just have a lot going on. A lot of shit I need to figure out.”
We both hug one more time before I head back to the hospital. As I’m walking down the hall back toward Logan’s room I run into a crying Reese.
“Whoa, hey! What’s going on? Is he okay?” Please God don’t let him have died while I was gone.
“No, I mean, yes, he’s okay. Well, he’s stable. It’s Kaitlyn. She’s missing. When they said Logan might not make it, she took off.” Kaitlyn is Logan’s sister. With only ten months between them, they grew up best friends. When Logan slipped into the coma, Kaitlyn went down a dark path. I’d seen her at several of the parties I was at, but I was too fucked up myself to do anything to help her.