Page 136 of Falcon

Chapter 30

Faith

Finding the overlook at Marco took me to after the meeting on my second day here in California was honestly easier than I thought.

I asked the Uber driver to drop me off just a short walk away because I didn’t want anyone to come up there with me, even to drop me off.

It feels sacred here.

I am sitting on a rock that is just high enough I can see out over the raging Pacific Ocean, and the salty breeze is brushing my face.

I love the beaches in Savannah off of Tybee Island, but there is something to be said about these West Coast waters.

I’ve been sitting here for so long, I’m certain I look like an insane person to an outsider, but it is bringing so much clarity to me.

Not just with Marco, but with my life as a whole.

The man who attacked me that night in college didn’t break me.

At least not all of me.

He damaged small parts of me, but those parts are growing back even stronger than they were before, and they will only continue to grow with each day that passes.

That was proven by my need and ability to step in when another woman looked as if she was in danger.

I want to help people who need it. Those who are so scared they think they have nowhere to turn. I want to show them being brave is possible and that even at rock bottom, you can overcome anything life throws at you.

Even when life throws you a six foot three inch brooding fighter with a beautiful smile who is too stubborn for his own good.

All I want is for him to understand he doesn’t have to prove anything to anyone. That there is no shame is stepping away, but he’s scared. I know that now.

He’s scared because he doesn’t know what his life will look like once his career comes to an end. The unknown is a scary thing. I know that just as much as he does, and I can completely understand it.

He wants to prove to himself, to Nora, to me, to everyone he can, and he will protect himself and his family no matter the cost. While I love that about him, it’s so incredibly stupid.

But maybe I’m just as stupid for walking away? For letting him think that fighting really is all he has in his life?

I check the time on my cell phone.

“Shit.”

The weigh-in started forty-five minutes ago.

I couldn’t watch it. I couldn’t bring myself to see his face yet, even if through a screen, but now, my fingers are itching to pull it up on my phone to watch it.

I miss the hell out of him.

But I can’t sit on the sidelines and watch him choose risking his life over me. Over everyone.

I want more for myself and more for him.

I stand and take in the view one last time before firing up my Uber app and ordering a car.

When I slide into the back seat ten minutes later, my cell phone pings in my hand with one, single text.

Nora: Open Twitter. Trust me.

I tap the little blue bird icon and it’s immediately clear why she told me to do this.

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