And the fight was over.
In less than two minutes. Just as that article had predicted…but with a totally different outcome.
Screaming, Julie jumped around and cheered, then launched herself at Brody, hugging him.
“He won! He won!”
Brody laughed, and he was about to say something when the announcer interrupted with, “Ladies and gentlemen.”
She waved at Brody. “Shhhh! Here it comes.”
Tommy and a now recovered Moon stood on either side of the announcer. “This fight has ended one minute and forty-two seconds into the first round by knockout, declaring the winner and new Middleweight Champion of the World Tommy ‘Lightning’ Sparks.”
The referee lifted one of Tommy’s arms into the air. The belt came out, and her happy grin started to fade. She stepped away from Brody and moved closer to the TV, gazing longingly at Tommy.
She wasn’t there with him.
Her eyes were drawn to the photo hanging on her wall from a couple of years ago, where Tommy held the belt over his head, sweat coating his body, just as he was right now. The only difference was, in the picture she was beside him, smiling up at him.
“You love him, Jules.”
“I know. I’ve never denied that,” she said, turning back to the TV where his team was surrounding Tommy.
Twenty-three years of friendship flashed before her eyes. Even if at times they’d been in different states, they’d always had the other’s back, facing the world together. And now that friendship was gone.
As much as she’d prepared herself for this moment, spending years knowing one day their relationship would change, nothing had readied her for the pain that engulfed her.
Tears burned the backs of her eyes and she hugged her arms around her torso.
“Brody. I need to be alone.”
He sighed. “Okay.” She felt him come up behind her, and then he kissed her cheek. “Call me if you need to talk.”
As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, the first hiccupped sob shot past her lips. She pressed her hand to her mouth as she turned her attention back to the TV. Tommy’s face was overjoyed, his eyes and smile bright with happiness.
The same look he’d had two nights ago at the club. If only his career inside that cage had stopped, maybe they would’ve had a chance. But the reality was, it hadn’t. At least not for Tommy.
She had to move on, no matter how much it hurt to do so.
Julie picked up the remote and turned off the TV. She knew what came next. He’d interview, leave the cage, and the partying would start. He was free to do as he pleased. No worries of her disappointment. Her judgment.
Would he embrace it? Maybe not at first, but once the atmosphere got to him, excited him, he’d find his groove again—just as he had the other night. And then he’d realize she’d been right, and had done them both a favor by ending things between them.
She laid the remote down on the couch and straightened. Then she stood there, the silence closing in on her again. She wrapped her arms around herself.
What now?
Change clothes.
Yes, getting into her pajamas sounded like a good idea. She walked back to her room.
No, not a good idea.
The bed was as imposing as ever, screaming Tommy’s name. Lucy lay on the rug and lifted her head, that accusing look back on her furry face.
“Lucy, I’m sorry. I did what I needed to do.”
The dog made a whiny sound and lowered her head to her paws, those chocolate brown eyes latched onto Julie as she backed out of the room and retreated to the living room. Was there nowhere to go to escape him?
Would it just take time for his memory to fade from this house?
All she knew was, she couldn’t think anymore. If she could have thrown herself into her work, she would have, but she had to settle for cleaning an already spotless house. When her phone rang, she froze, only to be disappointed to see it was Brody. After the third time, she’d set her phone to go directly to voice mail, not needing the constant roller coaster of emotions.
For two hours, she concentrated on killing every dust bunny she could find, which wasn’t many, but the hunt kept her occupied. She’d just cut the vacuum cleaner off when she realized someone was knocking on the door.
She sighed. She should’ve just answered the damn phone.
As she opened the door, she said, “I’m—” The words died on her lips, and her heart skipped a beat.
Tommy.
He stood on the porch, drenched from the pounding rain. Blond hair plastered to his head, water dripping off the tip of his nose. The baseball cap gripped tight in his hands.
She swallowed, a thousand emotions crowding her heart. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t call.”
She blinked.