Page 77 of The Baby-whisperer and the Brute
Fight Night
Angelina
The empty house felt like a ghost town as I wandered through it, finding and gathering a few little items the girls had left behind—some small toys under the table in the family room, a load of forgotten laundry in the dryer, a hair bow in the pantry, of all places.
I’d box them up and send them to New York tomorrow.
The goodbyes this morning had nearly been the death of me. Those sweet little faces, their eyes red and puffy with uninhibited tears, would haunt me forever.
Somehow in the past three months I had come to think of Skyla and Claire asmine.I knew I could never replace their mother and I’d never want to, but they didn’t feel likejustmy job either.
Parting with Sully had been far less emotional on the surface, but deep down it had cut even deeper.
As he’d stared down at me with those fathomless blue eyes, I’d had to resist the nearly overpowering urge to cling to him and kiss him goodbye.
What is wrong with me?
I’d gotten exactly what I’d initially sought from this summer job—time to think about what I wanted for the rest of my life.
The problem was what I wanted had become abundantly clear—I wantedhim—a life with him and his daughters. But that wasn’t possible.
I had a week left until I was scheduled to report to the monastery. It seemed like I shoulddosomething with that time. Through my generous salary, Sully had provided the means for me to take a trip, to have a once-in-a-lifetime adventure before I settled down and began the new life I’d chosen.
But I couldn’t think of a single thing I wanted to do. Nothing that didn’t involve him anyway.
Just the thought of getting on a plane alone or taking the train somewhere left me feeling exhausted. Besides, the fight was in three days, and I was so consumed with worry over Sully’s safety I wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself.
All I could really manage to do in the interim was hole up in the house with Sully’s collection of romance novels and lose myself in the stories. At least when I was reading them, I wasn’t actively worrying or wallowing in my own confusion.
Plus, I learneda lot. Some of it made me blush and squirm.
All of it made me long for Sully.
Finally, Friday night rolled around. I hadn’t intended to watch the bout, knowing how awful it would be to see him in pain, but I was unable to keep myself away from it.
I went to a nearby sports pub that was showing the match and found a seat at the bar, ordering some food and a steady stream of overpriced seltzer waters with lime in order to keep it.
My stomach was a sack of raw nerves as the fight began. The plate of food sat in front of me untouched.
Since coming to live with the Reece family, I had seen some clips of boxing matches and even a few boxing movies, which naturally, Sully loved.
This fight was nothing like those.
Maybe it was the fact that it was live that amplified the brutality. Most likely it was the fact thathewas the one in the ring being struck repeatedly.
The blows were so powerful I wasn’t sure how either fighter remained standing after the first ones were traded. But it went on and on, round after round, with Sully giving as good as he got.
By the eleventh round, both men were bloodied and swollen and looked thoroughly exhausted.
I didn’t know how much more I could take. I felt like hitting the people seated around me when they oohed and aahed and cheered at a particularly nasty blow.
How could they beenjoyingthis?
Sully’s handsome face, which had earned him plenty of cruel taunts from Travis Diggs leading up to the match, was nearly unrecognizable with one eye swollen almost shut and turning shades of blue and purple.
One side of his chest was discolored as well. He was protecting his left side, and Diggs got in a jab there whenever possible, causing Sully to wince and stagger.
By the twelfth round, the fight was nothing short of a horror show. As the crowd around me grew rowdier and more demonstrative, I desperately wanted to leave the bar. But I couldn’t bring myself to look away.
