Leandro lunged for him again, but his coach held him back. “Get the fuck out of my house. I don’t want to see you again. You have five minutes.” Leandro left the room, needing to put as much space between him and Thiago as he could before he did something he’d regret.
Stepping outside onto the back patio, he breathed in the dry desert air. Ashlynn was right. He’d been surrounded by wolves his whole life and hadn’t been able to see it. Somehow he’d let the only person who really cared about him slip through his fingers. His hand itched to take the phone from his pocket and call her, to tell her that he’d gotten rid of Thiago so that she would know that someone had paid for her misery.
But he didn’t. She’d asked for space, and in all of this he’d realized that he’d never been very good at listening to her. He’d given her what he’d thought she needed, instead of what she actually wanted. So he could give her space.
He only hoped that somehow that space brought her back to him.
22
ASHLYNN PUSHED HER potatoes from one side of her plate to the other. Normally, her mother’s cheesy garlic mashed potatoes were one of her favorite comfort foods, but even her appetite was failing her. Over the past several days, she’d mainly subsisted on ice cream, Oreos, rosé, and Clif bars. Her crappy diet combined with the stress of losing her job was likely the main cause of her stomach feeling as though it was twisted into painful knots—she stubbornly refused to believe that she was still hurt over having to let Leandro go.
But just the thought of his name had her chest tightening, and she gently set her fork down, taking a sip of her water. It seemed impossible that getting fired and everything that had followed had only gone down a week ago. The past few days had stretched on interminably, slow and empty. No work to distract her from the pain of telling Leandro to leave. No Leandro to distract her from the worry and humiliation of losing her job. She’d spent way too much time alone with her thoughts, and even eating her feelings wasn’t giving her any relief.
Her mother eyed her as she cut into her fried chicken—normally another of Ashlynn’s favorites, but today it tasted like ash. Feeling the weight of her mother’s gaze, Ashlynn forced herself to take a small bite of potatoes. When her mother had invited her over for dinner, wanting to check on her after losing her job, she’d gone, but with no intention of telling her mother about Leandro. There was no point; she already knew what her mother would say. That she’d been a fool, and that hopefully she learned from this. That she’d raised her to know better than to get involved with someone like Leandro. There would be no sympathy—only disappointment and recrimination. And she didn’t need either of those things. She already felt like total shit over everything that had happened, no heaping dose of maternal guilt necessary.
She’d talked to Kayla a little about the breakup, and about losing her job, but as the older sister, Ashlynn felt the need to shelter Kayla from the shittiness of her life. She wanted her focused on school and work, not worrying about her big sister. She’d always been so careful with her, wanting to lead by example.
“Sweetie, are you okay?” her mother asked gently, setting her fork down and touching Ashlynn lightly on the shoulder.
God, what was it with that question? She’d managed to keep it together all evening, but something about the phrase are you okay? had her carefully constructed walls crumbling. The tears that had sat frozen right behind her eyes thawed and started to fall, streaking down her cheeks. Ashlynn pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes, trying to stem the flow, but it was no use. Her shoulders shook, and she sucked in a shuddering breath. Her throat ached as emotions swirled through her—the hurt, the anger at what had happened, the sadness at what she’d lost. “No. I’m really not.”
“I know it’s upsetting to get fired, but it’s just a bump in the road. You’re smart, and you’re a hard worker. You’ll get through this. I know you will. You’ve got your other freelance jobs, and more will come along.” Her mother wasn’t wrong. Jules had called the next day to apologize for her dad’s behavior and offer her a reference for future jobs, trying to mitigate the damage done to her reputation. She’d gotten the sense that Jules wished there were more she could do, but Ashlynn had been so grateful for the reference that she hadn’t pushed it. Just like she hadn’t wanted to come between Leandro and his family, she didn’t want to come between Jules and hers.
Ashlynn dropped her hands from her eyes, looking into her mom’s kind face. The sudden need to unburden herself was almost overwhelming. “It’s more than just the job,” she said, the words falling out of her mouth before she could think twice. “There was a man. Someone I cared about very much, and we broke up because I got fired.”
Her mom frowned but didn’t say anything, and Ashlynn found herself telling her mom the entire story. Getting assigned to work with Leandro on his image to undo the damage of his antics. How handsome and charming and infuriating he’d been. How she’d known better, but hadn’t been able to help her feelings for him. The intensity of their connection. How he’d told her he loved her, but she’d ended things because of the damage to her career.
How much she hurt, every minute of every day.
As she spoke, she started to feel lighter, and she realized just how weighed down she’d been with her own expectations of herself. She’d always seen herself as the family’s rock, but really all she’d done was tie a stone around her neck and drag it around, proving to everyone how strong and stable she was. She’d been sinking under that weight for a while now, and it felt good to let go of some of it.
She hadn’t felt weighed down with Leandro. She’d felt free. Happy. At least until the end, when she’d focused on all the reasons things couldn’t work out between them instead of all the reasons why things could. She’d been happy until she’d decided, somewhere in her subconscious, that she didn’t really deserve to be happy. She’d amplified the doubts, letting them take over, sabotaging her own chance at happiness.
And as she told her mom the whole story, she realized that breaking up with him had made her feel heavy again. She’d wanted space, but the space hadn’t helped at all. She felt so much worse without him. The truth was, she’d liked who she was with him. Relaxed and carefree. He’d told her that she made him a better person, but he’d made her better too. Less rigid, more alive. And she felt as though she’d lost that newfound sense of self along with him. Her heart . . . it just hurt. All the time.
“And so you broke up with him?” her mother prompted gently, and Ashlynn realized she’d trailed off, lost in her own thoughts.
Ashlynn nodded. “Yeah, I did.” She felt a little sick as she remembered the pain on his face when she’d told him to leave. Even as she was destroying what they’d found together, she’d believed so strongly that she was doing the right thing. But when he’d told her he loved her, she’d almost taken it all back and thrown herself into his arms. Now she wasn’t sure what to do with those words, but she was glad she had them. If she didn’t have Leandro, at least she had his admission that he loved her. She’d traded her doubts about a life with Leandro for doubts about a life without him.
Her mom raised an eyebrow, let out a long, weary sigh, and then shook her head. “Oh, Ashlynn. Honey. I thought you knew better.”
And there it was. Ashlynn didn’t say anything, not wanting to get into an argument with her mom, and feeling like an idiot for thinking she could turn to her for comfort over losing Leandro.
“Men like your Leandro, like your father—they’re all the same,” she said, waving a dismissive hand through the air. “They only care about themselves, and only want one thing. Once they’ve gotten what they want, they move on, not giving a damn about what they’re leaving behind. The better-looking and more charming the man, the bigger the ego. I’ve always told you that, haven’t I?”
Ashlynn nodded, having a hard time reconciling her mother’s view of men with who Leandro really was, deep down. He wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t the villain her mother seeme
d to assume all men were. Leandro had characteristics that her father hadn’t: loyalty, honesty, a caring warmth. Her entire chest ached as she thought about those qualities, and how she hadn’t trusted him, despite them. She’d seen the truth; he had so much good in him, even if people like his mother and Thiago didn’t see it, or didn’t want to see it for their own selfish reasons. Her father never would’ve bought out a florist just to make a sick girl’s day, or donated money to a children’s hospital. He never would’ve given up a hobby he loved because the woman in his life asked him to. She realized now that Leandro had had no intention of racing again, or going to strip clubs. Those fears that he wasn’t being honest about that were based on her own inability to trust her feelings.
Her mother continued, not waiting for Ashlynn to say anything. “I’m grateful for you and Kayla—you’re the best things that I ever did. But your father ruined my life. All I want is something better for you and Kayla. Don’t make my same mistakes.” She nodded. “I know it hurts, but it’s for the best that none of this with Leandro worked out. It sounds like it had disaster written all over it. Just be grateful you escaped relatively unscathed.”
“Leandro’s nothing like Dad,” said Ashlynn, her voice quiet but firm, secure in the knowledge that she was finally seeing the truth of that. “But I assumed he would be because you’ve made me and Kayla help carry your baggage.” It was so obvious now, how she’d let her mom’s bitterness hold so much sway over her own decisions. That she’d let herself live in fear, that she’d questioned her own instincts, over and over again, holding herself hostage to her mother’s pain.
“That’s not what I did,” said her mother, frowning defensively. “I guided you down the right path. I spared you from making my same mistakes.”
“No, you made it so that we’d be afraid to make any mistakes.”
“Ashlynn!” Her mother sat back in her chair, her brow furrowed. “How can you say that?”
“I love you, Mom, and I’m sorry for what Dad put you through. It sucks, and it wasn’t fair. You’re right; he was a selfish jerk. But that doesn’t mean all men who share any of his same characteristics are a disaster waiting to happen. Maybe that’s hard for you to accept, but it’s true.” It was certainly true of Leandro. “Kayla and I can’t keep living our lives in the shadow of what happened to you. I know you mean well and that you love us, but you’ve spent a lot of time and energy scaring us away from something that might lead to happiness. We need to live our own lives. Follow our own paths, unburdened by your baggage.” As she spoke, she felt a sense of freedom growing within her, like she was cutting through the metaphorical shackles her mother had tied around her wrists, each word sawing through them a little bit more.
“But this Leandro hasn’t made you happy. Look at you, you’re miserable.” Her mom leaned forward and rubbed her shoulder. “Sweetie, I don’t want to fight about this. I want you to be happy. I want you to find someone you can be happy with, but I know this man isn’t that person. He has a sex tape. What sort of man has a sex tape?”
“This isn’t only about Leandro. I don’t know what will happen with us.” Though it didn’t look good. “This is about Kayla and me making our own mistakes. Leandro isn’t Dad.”
Her mom chewed on her bottom lip, toying with her fork. After several seconds, she nodded, her eyes shrouded with sadness. “I just don’t want you to have to experience the same hurt and loneliness I had to endure. The consequences weren’t worth the excitement.” She wrung her hands together, visibly struggling with her own anxiety.
Ashlynn stood and wrapped her arms around her mom. “I love you, and I’m sorry that you had such a tough time of it, Mom. I really am. I know you did your best for me and Kayla. But it’s not fair for you to pass your fears on to us. It’s just not.” She spoke in a gentle tone, trying to comfort and soothe her mother, and it struck her how their roles were gradually shifting. It used to be that her mother would be the one to comfort and reassure her, but the tables had turned. It was both freeing and a little disconcerting. It was such an odd thing to see her mother through fresh eyes. Grown-up eyes, not as child and parent, but as two adult women with different perspectives.
They finished up their dinner, and as she drove home, Ashlynn had to admit that she felt a little bit better. As though she’d gained a little clarity and could maybe see a way through the mess she’d created. She’d told Leandro that they were a mistake, but the only thing that felt like a mistake was letting him go. Letting her fear win. She’d let her mother’s doubts and fears worm their way so deeply into her brain that she hadn’t fully realized just how powerful they were. Until now. But now that she saw them, knew that they were there, at least she could stop feeding into them. Stop giving them power.
Maybe if she found a way to think around that fear, she and Leandro could find ways to deal with the other obstacles. The differences in lifestyle. The geographical challenges. The fact that his family disliked her. Wondering if he’d eventually get bored with her and move on. And all of that was assuming he’d even take her back after what she’d done to him. To them, and to what they’d had together.
But as she drove, her mind cycling through the different roadblocks they’d come up against, her mood deflated. Even without the fear holding her back, the hurdles felt insurmountable.
She missed him. She loved him.
But maybe that wasn’t enough. She just didn’t know.
23
THE ARENA’S LIGHTS dimmed and the fans roared to life as the opening beats of Ludacris’ “Get Back” pumped through the speakers. Adrenaline flowing through Leandro’s veins, he closed his eyes to soak in the power of the crowd. A lot of sweat and blood had gone into preparing for tonight and, despite the setback with Ashlynn and Thiago, he felt ready. Tonight was the night he’d shut Declan Murphy up for good. Tonight was the night he’d force Craig Darcy to give him a real competitor. Tonight was the night he’d prove to everyone he belonged here.
He almost grinned at that last thought. Funny thing was, he didn’t give a fuck about proving anything to anyone anymore. Somewhere between loving Ashlynn and losing her, he’d realized that he didn’t care what everyone thought. He could win every championship in mixed martial arts and his family wouldn’t care. Craig Darcy would only care because of the money it earned him. Same for Thiago. Leandro only had to worry about pleasing himself. He’d finally realized all the rest was bullshit, and all that mattered was being proud of himself.
Murphy was a bullshit challenger who wouldn’t last one round in the cage. But Leandro had taken the fight seriously and used it to brush up on his wrestling since it was Murphy’s strength. As a result he was stronger than ever, and he was proud of that. Whatever their problems might be, he knew that Ashlynn was proud of him too. He started to wonder if she’d watch the fight on TV, but he stopped himself. Now wasn’t the time to think about her.
Opening his eyes, he walked down the aisle toward the octagon. Fans leaned over the railings to reach for him, and he gave out a few high fives as he went. Murphy strutted around the cage like a chicken, his tongue out and his hands up in devil’s horns. Shaking his head at the pathetic bid for attention, Leandro handed off his belt to his coach. It felt odd not giving it to Thiago. His friend had been with him at every single one of his fights and, despite what Thiago had done, Leandro missed him. It was like there was a blank space at his side. He felt Ashlynn’s absence too, and looked for her in the crowd even though he knew that she wouldn’t be there.
Tossing his hood back, he unzipped his sweatshirt and shrugged out of it. Next came his shoes, and the WFC-issued Mereo shirt and pants, until he was standing in his fight shorts. A referee came over to examine him quickly before instructing him to enter the octagon. Leandro bounced up the steps, pausing at the entrance to kneel down and say a brief prayer before stepping inside. It felt a lot like he was stepping into his future, a different one than he would’ve had before Ashlynn had come into his life. One with less bullshi
t.
Murphy came over immediately, prompting the referee to jump between them, but Leandro ignored him and walked to his corner, bouncing on the balls of his feet to loosen up. The trash talk used to rile Leandro up and get him ready to fight, but he was starting to realize it was a fleeting distraction that drained more than it revitalized. He was realizing more and more every day how much of his life had been wasted on shit that didn’t matter.
The music faded away and the lights got brighter as Gary Watts, the WFC’s announcer, stepped into the cage with a microphone in his hand. He was a fan favorite, so he had to smile and wave as he waited for the cheering to die down. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the main event of the evening!” The crowd went wild again, and he smiled. Leandro paced his side of the cage, suddenly ready to get this over with. Finally, Watts announced the judges who’d be scoring the fight.
“And now! Five rounds to determine the WFC light heavyweight champion! First, fighting out of the blue corner, holding a professional record of five wins and two defeats, standing at six feet tall, weighing in at two hundred and six pounds, the challenger, Declan Murphy!” Half the crowd screamed and the other half booed while Murphy strutted around banging his fists on his chest like an idiot.
Watts pointed toward Leandro and said, “Fighting out of the white corner, holding a professional record of thirteen wins and one defeat, standing at six feet two inches tall, weighing in at two hundred and five pounds, presenting the reigning”—Leandro raised his arms and the crowd started cheering—“the defending, undisputed light heavyweight champion . . .” Leandro stalked his corner, facing his fans and letting their energy move through him. “Leandro ‘O Caçador’ Oliveira!” The place exploded in screams and it was too loud to hear whatever Murphy was trying to yell at him.
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