Page 55 of Between the Ropes

I hide in my office, feeling the muffled roar of the crowd even from here, thinking about how this is the last time I’ll hear it. Every sound, every little detail feels sharper, like the world’s reminding me what I’m leaving behind. The ache in my chest is a constant, dull throb, but I push it down, drowning it in the hum of the building, the distant echoes of the opening acts. This was a dream job, the kind of opportunity that changes everything. And yet, it’s slipping away, lost under the weight of everything with Ryan.

I try to distract myself, busying my hands by organizing supplies, checking and re-checking the schedule. Only two pre-match massages today, and a few injuries likely later on. Fine by me—I could use the quiet. I take deep breaths, steadying myself, trying to keep my mind from wandering to the fact that he’s here, somewhere in this building, just out of reach. Avoiding me. My heart starts to pound again, thinking of him getting ready for his title match, the opportunity he’s been working toward his whole career. I want to be there for him, want to tell him how amazing he’s going to be.

In between appointments, I sneak glances at the monitor, catching glimpses of the matches, anything to fill the time. When Ryan appears on the screen, my stomach twists. He’s being interviewed, gearing up for the main event, and when he looks straight into the camera, my heart falters. His face is all determination, his jaw clenched, and even through the screen,he feels untouchable. It hurts. It hurts so much I can’t breathe, and before I know it, my fingers are hitting the power button, and the screen goes dark.

I force myself to sit there, eyes on the blank screen, grounding myself. He’s just… gone from me. I lean back, close my eyes, letting the noise in the hallway fill the silence around me. But then the sound of the crowd’s cheers swells again, and when I turn the monitor back on, there she is—Chrissy, strutting down the ramp, wearing something so tight it’s practically painted on. Every curve highlighted, every step confident. The nausea I’ve been trying to suppress hits hard, and I can’t stay here another second. I need to get out of here, I need to go somewhere where I can breathe, because right now I feel like I am suffocating.

I slip out of the office, pushing through the crowd in the hallway, barely noticing anyone around me. My head is spinning, my chest is tight. I need air. I find the nearest exit and shove the door open, letting the cool night air hit my face like a shock to the system. I close my eyes, breathing in deeply, trying to calm the storm raging inside me, the pain that’s tearing me apart.

“Are you okay?”

The voice startles me, and I spin around. It’s Travis. He’s leaning against the doorframe, his expression soft, concerned.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, holding his hands up in a small surrender. “Just came out for some air too.”

I take a shaky breath. “I’m fine.” The lie is barely out before I feel my throat tighten. “I’m just… taking it all in, you know?”

He looks at me for a long moment, studying me. “So, it’s true? You’re really leaving?”

I nod, biting down hard on my bottom lip. “Yeah. I have to, Travis.”

“You don’t have to,” he says, his voice low, steady, so kind it nearly breaks me. “You’re good at this, Natalie. You belong here.”

I swallow, shaking my head. “This isn’t… This isn’t my place, Travis. This is Ryan’s world. He doesn’t want me here, and I’m not going to hang around, making things harder for everyone.” The words come out in a rush, raw and jagged, and my voice wobbles as I finish.

He lets out a sigh, looking at me with something that feels almost like sadness. “I told him he was making a mistake, you know. I told him he’d regret this. Someone got in his head. He’s got a lot on his plate and he’s confused. He’ll come around. I know he will.”

I close my eyes, turning away, trying to hold myself together. I don’t want to cry here, not in front of him, not when I’ve already made such a mess of things.

Travis shifts, stepping closer. “He cares about you, Nat. I know he does. He’s just… he’s in his own head right now, letting people get to him. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “It’s too late, Trav. He’s moved on, and I… I need to do the same.”

He frowns, studying me. “What do you mean he’s moved on?”

I hesitate, a bitter laugh escaping me. “I’ve heard things. I’ve seen things. It’s fine. I don’t need you to apologize for him or make excuses. I just want to get through tonight and leave this behind.” I pause, feeling the weight of everything settle onto my shoulders. “But thank you, Travis. For everything. For always being kind to me.”

Without a word, he steps forward and wraps me in a hug, strong and comforting. “You’re a good person, Natalie,” he murmurs against my hair, his voice thick with emotion. “And if you ever need anything, you call me, okay? I mean it. Day or night, I’ll be there.”

I nod against his chest, a few tears slipping down my cheeks despite my best efforts to hold them back. His hug is warm, grounding, and for a moment, I let myself feel it, leaning into his strength. He steps back, his hand lingering on my shoulder, giving me one last reassuring squeeze before he heads back inside, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

As soon as he’s gone, the last shreds of my composure fall apart. I sink down onto the curb, letting the tears come, the sobs I’ve been holding back ripping through me, each one pulling at the raw, aching wound in my chest.

The arena roars in the distance, the fans on their feet, the sounds of a world I’m about to leave behind forever. I sit there, the darkness around me thick and silent, feeling like the loneliest person on the planet. The grief is consuming, a weight pressing down on my chest, the loss of him, of this place, of a life I thought I could have.

I’m leaving, and he doesn’t care. Not enough, anyway. And no matter how hard I try to convince myself that I’ll be okay, that I’ll move on, the truth is… I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forget him. Not when he’s the one who made me feel alive, who made me believe, even for just a moment, that I was enough.

I wrap my arms around myself, my sobs quieting but my heart still shattered, and I sit there, alone in the dark, letting the pieces fall where they may.

42

The weight of the night presses down on me as I stand in the dimly lit hallway, my fists clenched at my sides. The roar of the crowd is muffled behind thick concrete walls, but I can feel their energy pulsing through the building, vibrating beneath my feet. The main event is minutes away. My shot at the UXW Heavyweight Championship.

I roll my shoulders, stretching out the tension coiling tight in my muscles. This is what I’ve worked for—what I’ve bled for. But there’s a different kind of pressure on me tonight. Not just the title, not just the company watching to see if I’m ready to carry the brand.

Natalie.

She’s here. Somewhere in this building, watching. I haven’t seen her but knowing she’s close is enough to throw my focus just enough to piss me off. I need to be locked in. Unshakable.But the thought of her, the way things ended between us, lingers like a ghost I can’t shake.

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