“Right. You’re right, Derrick.” I forced the words out, though it pained me to say them.
Without another word, I turned and walked back toward my office, my stomach churning and my mind whirling.
Tomorrow night. A date. I closed my eyes, fighting to calm my breathing. The thought kept playing in my mind, making my blood boil, even as I tried to ignore it. Derrick was correct. Ishouldn’t interfere. I had no right. Marcie was free to do what she wanted. See whomever she pleased.
So why did my inner voice scream,“No fucking way!”
Damn it! I was a mess. Confused, frustrated, and downright contradictory.
A knock on my door brought me out of my musings.
“Come in,” I called, and the door creaked open.
“I brought you another cup of coffee. Thought you could use it,” she said, setting the cup down in front of me.
“You’re looking a bit forlorn. Is it about Marcie?” she asked, her voice low and warm as she took the seat across from me.
“Just a lot on my mind, Mrs Hargrove,” I replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “You know how it is.”
She frowned, narrowing her eyes in that way she did when she was concerned. “Alright, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But it’s been my experience that when you feel strongly about someone, like you obviously do with that young woman, you’d be a fool to let fear hold you back. Love doesn’t come around often, and when it does, it can be the most wonderful thing life has to offer. And the most terrifying.”
Love. I’d always known deep down that I could easily fall in love with Marcie if I let myself, and that was the issue. I didn’t want to let that happen.
Mrs Hargrove continued. “My Joe was the nervous sort when we met. I was dating someone else at the time, but he found the courage to ask me out. To this day, I’m so glad he did. We had forty wonderful years together and three children. If he hadn’t faced his fears, we’d never have known that kind of happiness.” She smiled wistfully, her expression a mixture of joy and sadness.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I know what you’re trying to say, but it’s complicated.”
“Complicated or not, it’s important to let people in, Anton. You can’t keep shutting people out, especially someone you obviously care so much about.”
Her words hit closer to home than I wanted to admit. I looked away, my gaze dropping to the floor. “I can’t risk losing anyone else, Mrs Hargrove. It’s safer this way.”
“Safer? Or lonelier?” she countered. “Life’s about taking risks. If you keep pushing Marcie away, you’ll never really live.”
I picked up my mug, watching the steam swirl. “I know what I’m doing. It’s for the best.”
“Is it?” she asked gently, taking a seat across from me. “You can’t build a future on fear.”
Her words stretched into the silence, heavy and undeniable. I sat there, staring into my mug. She was right, but confronting that truth would mean facing the demons I’d buried so deep. I wasn’t ready for that.
“I’ll think about it,” I said quietly.
She smiled and stood to leave. “Don’t lose the one thing that could bring true joy to your life, Anton, just because you fear what might happen. I know you’ve lost a lot, but you can’t let that stop you from loving again. Life’s unpredictable. You need to live in the here and now, or you’re just existing—and that would be a waste.”
I nodded, her words sinking in as she slipped silently out the door. I leaned back in my chair, lost in thought. The ache for Marcie mingled with the fear of what might happen if I let her in.
My mind bombarded me with relentless if onlys and what ifs. Eventually, I rose to my feet. Hiding here wasn’t solving anything, and the Rominovs were counting on me to be at the fight tonight. With a heavy sigh, I dragged myself to my car and headed home to change.
Marcie was going on a date, meeting someone who didn’t carry the scars and baggage I did. She was trying to move on, and I’d handed her every reason to do so.
But was that really what I wanted?
Finally, the answer hit me hard. No. I wanted her. I needed her. The thought of her with someone else was unbearable. Suddenly, I realised the fight tonight wouldn’t come close to matching the one raging inside me.
Mrs Hargrove’s words echoed in my mind: “You need to live in the here and now, or you’re just existing—and that would be a waste.”
Clarity followed. Before Marcie slipped away completely, I had to act. I needed to tell her what I felt—no more games, no more hiding behind my fears. It was time to confront the truth. At the very least, I owed her answers, an explanation for everything, and a chance to see if we could work it out—together. Maybe she wouldn’t want me once she knew the depths of my issues. And I still wasn’t sure if I could get past them. But I had to try. If it wasn’t already too late.
CHAPTER 7