Knocked Out By Love (Love to the Extreme)

by Abby Niles

  His instinct was leading him outside the cage, too. He was fighting it with everything he had, because he didn’t want to let Scarlett go. He wanted to be with her.

  But sometimes that wasn’t enough. She was a source of strength he never expected, and she was also going to be his eventual downfall. Because for the first time, he might settle for less than he deserved, just to be with her.

  Randy walked over to him, interrupting his thoughts. The man lifted his now ungloved hand, and Brody took it. “Great fight, man. I look forward to our next match, because I’ll be gunning for you.”

  Brody grinned. It’d been a hard fight, but he had shut up the naysayers, reminded everyone here that he was still a force to be reckoned with—exactly like Scarlett said he would be. “You can try.”

  The other fighter smiled then moved off to the side of the cage to do his interview about his loss.

  Brody had a microphone thrust in his face, too, and his focus was diverted to the slew of questions, and away from what he’d do about his problems at home.

  …

  Brody slipped into his Mercedes and groaned. His muscles screamed in agony and would for the next few days, just like they always did right after a tough fight. Greg did have a hell of a fighter on his roster now, and the kid would have a great future in CMC.

  But tonight it had been an old man’s moment.

  Mike was already working to schedule a contention fight. After all these years, Brody had finally advanced up the MMA ladder. He should be ecstatic, but as the night wore on, his thoughts kept turning to Scarlett and his coach’s after-fight words.

  Instinct told him he’d want children and would never be truly happy without that option. But his heart was killing him with the love he had for Scarlett.

  A sharp beep came from inside the glove compartment, signaling he’d missed either a call or text. He always left his phone in the car before a fight because he didn’t need any distractions while trying to get into his fighter’s mindset. Opening the compartment, he grabbed his cell, flicked his thumb across the screen, and tapped the text notification from his oldest sister.

  Call me as soon as you get out. Don’t care how late.

  Concern grabbed him by the neck, and he immediately pressed the phone icon to connect with Savannah.

  His sister never texted this late, and she sure as fuck didn’t tell him to call her.

  “Hey,” she breathed.

  “What’s the matter?”

  There was a deep inhale. “Ellie saw the fight.” Before he could respond, she quickly added, “I didn’t know. I’d put her to bed like I usually do before your fight, and then Stan and I settled in on the couch to watch. Ellie sat at the top of the stairs.”

  Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and groaned. That hadn’t been a bloodless match. He could only imagine what the four-year-old was thinking. “Is she okay?”

  “No. She’s been crying since Boss knocked you down and busted open that place on your cheek. She won’t believe me when I told you were fine.”

  “Did you have her watch the interviews after the fight?”

  “She refuses to come out of her room.”

  “Let me talk to her.”

  A few seconds passed before he heard Savannah say, “Ellie. Uncle Brody is on the phone. He wants to talk to you.”

  A wail followed, growing louder as either Savannah held the phone to Ellie’s ear, or the child took the phone.

  “Hey, princess.”

  The crying only intensified. Brody’s gut clenched tight at his niece’s distress. The sound lessened just a little, and then Savannah was back on the line. “She pushed the phone away. I don’t know what to do right now.”

  “Do I need to come over?”

  “I hate to ask you to. I know how tired you are after a fight, but she’s a mess. I think she needs to see you in person.”

  She didn’t have to ask twice. “Give me twenty minutes.”

  “Thank you, Brody.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He ended the call. Yeah, he was dog-assed tired, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let his niece worry herself sick over him.

  Since it was almost one thirty in the morning, traffic was light and it only took him ten minutes to get to his sister’s house. He hurried up the cobblestone walkway. Savannah opened the door before he reached the porch and stepped back as he walked into the house, “She’s upstairs in her room.”

  Knowing his face was all banged up, he hesitated. After a fight, he tended to stay away from the kids for a week or two. They’d seen him with faded bruises, understood that he “wrestled” for his job, but they’d never seen him fresh from the cage. He circled his face with his finger. “Is this going to make it worse?”

  Savannah held up her hands helplessly. “I don’t know.”

  Well, if she was willing to chance it, so was he. He took the steps two at a time, then slowed right outside Ellie’s door, peeking in. If she’d fallen asleep, he wasn’t sure he should wake her. But she was laying in the middle of her pink, plastic toddler bed, clutching her dolly with her thumb in her mouth, her cheeks still wet from crying. Ellie only sucked her thumb when she was upset.

  As he stepped inside, he tapped on the door. Her eyes flicked to the door, and then she threw back her princess blanket and jumped out of bed. “Uncle Brody!”

  She flew across the room and tossed herself into his arms. He smothered a grunt of pain as he hoisted her up on his side. “How are you, princess?”

  She didn’t seem to hear his question—her gaze was glued to the wound on his upper cheek, her cherub face pinched in concern. She placed her tiny hand on his temple beside the gash.

  “Ouchy,” she said.

  His heart swelled to busting. “Yeah. Uncle Brody has an ouchy.”

  “That man hurt you.”

  He carried her over to the bed and placed her on the mattress. After tucking the covers back around her, he squatted beside her and took her hand in his. “You remember how Uncle Brody gets ouchies a lot?”

  She nodded.

  “You remember what you saw on the TV?”

  Fear came into her eyes, but she nodded again a little more fiercely.

  “Well, Uncle Brody gets his ouchies from doing that. It’s his job, like how your daddy’s job is—”

  “Playing in the dirt,” she interrupted.

  Brody chuckled. “Yeah, playing in dirt.”

  Stan was a landscaper. He came home dirty every day.

  “You be okay?”

  “Yes, I’ll be okay.”

  Accepting the simple answer, she nestled farther into her covers then turned to her side, her eyelids growing heavy.

  “Love you,” she whispered as her eyes closed.

  A loving pain grew in his chest as he leaned over and kissed the top of her head, “I love you, too, princess.”

  As he stood, he gazed down at his niece. His coach’s words, the overwhelming love he had for this child, were a message to him—signs he had to listen to no matter how hard it hurt.

  Not having children wasn’t a possibility. Not for him. He couldn’t imagine missing this.

  He loved Scarlett. Had for a very long time. Had never been able to move on from her. Maybe this had to happen so he could.

  Even though letting her go was the last thing he wanted to do, they wanted a different future.

  There was no coming back from that.

  …

  Two days later, Brody sat outside Delaney’s home in his car, staring at the front door.

  Could he go through with this?

  Other than a reply to her congratulatory text saying how proud she was of him, he hadn’t spoken to Scarlett. She’d taken his words to heart the night they’d had dinner together and given him the space to rest that he’d requested. She had no idea that he’d spent the last two days trying to figure out how he was going to tell her their relationship was over.

  In theory, it shouldn’t be hard. Just say it. But the reality
was, even though he knew this was the right decision for both of them, his heart wasn’t in it.

  Today he had to pull the Band-Aid off, for both their sakes. Once it was done, it was done, and they both could start the healing process.

  It was going to take him a while to do that. He’d loved this woman for so long. She filled a place in him that had been empty. But being with her meant he’d have to let go of his dreams—his future children.

  Tessa had walked away the night before her wedding because of a decision like this.

  And he had to walk away from Scarlett.

  He never imagined it would be him ending things. For now, he could be happy with her, but instinct told him that years down the road he’d grow resentful. Neither of them deserved that.

  He opened the car door then walked up the path and tapped on the door. Seconds later, Scarlett answered, wearing a pair of overly large Superman pajamas and a red cami. Pain sliced across his chest, and he fisted his hands to keep from rubbing the area.

  His heart would have him make a decision that would doom them to failure. He couldn’t listen to it.

  “Brody!” Scarlett jerked slightly in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “We need to talk.”

  Her throat worked, but she nodded and stepped back, allowing him in. “Ah. The ‘we need to talk’ talk. Can’t wait.”

  As he entered, he saw Delaney sitting curled up in the corner of the couch, wrapped in a blanket, wads of tissues surrounding her. A movie was paused on the TV. She turned to look at her with bloodshot eyes.

  He froze. “I’m interrupting.”

  Delaney jumped off the couch. “No. You’re fine. I’ll go to my room.”

  She was gone just like that.

  “Is she okay?” he asked.

  Scarlett stared after her friend. “She will be.”

  She turned her attention back on him. There was a distance in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, like she already knew what was about to happen. “We needed to talk?”

  After she closed the door, she crossed her arms protectively around her middle. He hated that he was the cause of that protective stance. Hated he would be just another man who’d hurt her.

  Better the hurt now, before they both got in too deep.

  Who was he kidding? He already was. At least Scarlett was in the beginning stages—she’d be able to move on a lot faster than he would.

  “I can’t continue this,” he said, his throat clenched tight.

  It was out. He’d said it. And he instantly wanted to take it back. But he couldn’t. He knew himself.

  She nodded again, then looked down at her feet. “I’ve been waiting for this. I’ve noticed you distancing yourself since we had that talk at your sister’s house.”

  So it had been something that had been bothering her, too.

  “I’m sorry, Scarlett.”

  She waved away his words. “Don’t apologize for being honest with yourself, Brody.” Finally, she glanced up, a strained smile on her lips. “No reason to waste your time with something that will never be more than what it is right now. I get it.”

  He recoiled from her words. “Don’t put it that way. None of the time I’ve spent with you has been wasted.”

  She remained silent for a moment. “You know what I mean. There’s no future here. I knew it that day at the cook-out. I just didn’t want to let go. Thank you for being strong enough to do it for us.”

  He didn’t feel strong, he felt weak. He was seconds away from saying “fuck it” and damn the consequences. He’d faced some of the best in the industry and leaving this woman was more painful than anything that had happened to him in the cage.

  “You’re going to be a great father one day,” she added.

  It was the reminder he needed of why he was doing this. He needed to get out of here before he did something that would only make it worse on both of them.

  “I’ll go now.” Without even looking at her, he strode out of the house, leaving his heart behind him. He could only hope that it would find its way back home one day.

  …

  Scarlett closed the door and laid her head on the cool wood. “I’ll miss you,” she whispered.

  Her vision swam, and she allowed the tears to fall free. All the fight had left her.

  She’d known this moment was coming. With her “confession,” she’d made certain Brody would leave her, and it had to be his decision to end the relationship. If she’d been the one, it would’ve been harder for Brody to move on.

  She didn’t want that for him. She wanted him to have everything he desired—including kids. She’d saved him from years of heartache, from growing to resent her, and that would certainly happen. More failed IVFs with donor eggs. Surrogacies gone wrong. Adoptions fallen-through.

  She may never be a mother.

  And she’d be damned if Brody would never be a father.

  The reminder didn’t help the pain slicing her heart in two. After everything she’d sworn not to do, she’d fallen hard for that man. And now she was doing right by him—letting him go to have the future he wanted.

  Soft footsteps sounded behind her, and Scarlett pushed off the door then glanced at Delaney, who was still wrapped in her blanket, eyes bright red. She’d gotten confirmation today. Nine weeks pregnant. Now she was struggling with how to tell Blake, how he would react, and if she would be having the baby alone. She’d find out soon, though. Earlier, she’d said she would make that huge step within the next week or two. Then who knew what would happen. Her future was just as uncertain as Scarlett’s was.

  Strange how both of their lives were being turned upside down over children.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “No.” Tears blurred her vision again.

  Answering grief sprang to her friend’s eyes. “Come on, then. Let’s throw our pity party with Gerard Butler.”

  Delaney wrapped her arm around Scarlett’s shoulders, and they both shuffled toward the couch.

  She just had to keep reminding herself that she’d done the right thing.

  Or else she was liable to do something stupid, like not give a damn about what Brody wanted and try to have a future with him anyway.

  How selfish would that be?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Scarlett watched the two burly men carry the couch to the moving truck. A few days ago, Ryan had contacted her, saying she needed to get what she wanted out of the house. Monica was moving in and wanted Scarlett’s stuff gone before then.

  Finding out Ryan was moving his girlfriend into what used to be their home hadn’t caused the slightest ache. Missing Brody was using up all her pain. It’d been a week since he’d ended their relationship. A long, agonizingly painful week, so miserable that she’d come damn close to picking up the phone and telling him she’d lied about the whole thing.

  She wanted children. Desperately. She just couldn’t have them. Then, and only then, did her failed marriage come to mind, reminding her that love wasn’t always enough.

  Tires sounded behind her, and she twisted to look. Her heart dropped as she watched the white Dodge Durango pull into the driveway and park.

  Why was Ryan here?

  He sat behind the wheel for a few moments, rubbing his hands over his eyes. Finally, he opened the door and climbed out, confusion on his face as he looked from her to the moving van.

  Slowly, his expression melted into realization. “Jesus. You were getting your stuff to put into storage today. I’m sorry. I forgot.” The entire time he spoke, he avoided looking directly at her. “I’ll stay out of the way.”

  She’d been married to the man long enough to know his agitation meant he was upset about something.

  “Ryan?” she asked.

  Swollen red eyes met hers. She pressed her hand to her mouth, dread clenching her throat. The entire time they were together, Ryan had only cried twice—both times their IVFs had failed.

  The baby.

  “Is everything okay
?” It was a stupid question. Obviously everything wasn’t okay, but it was the only thing she could think to say.

  Turning his head away, he rubbed the back of his head. “Monica lost the baby.” His voice cracked on the last word.

  Air punched out of her mouth. All she felt was sorrow for both of them. As much as it’d hurt having Ryan get another woman pregnant, losing the child was something she’d never wished on him. He’d already had enough hopes killed with her to fill a lifetime.

  “I’m so sorry, Ryan.”

  He bowed his head as his shoulders began to shake. “I just want to be a dad.”

  She wasn’t sure what to do or say. She was the soon-to-be ex-wife. Her husband was talking about the woman he cheated with and made a baby. But one thing was for certain—she couldn’t ignore his pain.

  “I left the coffeemaker. Want a cup?”

  His head slowly turned back toward her, then he nodded.

  Without waiting for him to follow, she started walking toward the open front door. His footsteps sounded behind her. She stepped into the house that had been her home for the last four years. The living room had been wiped clean except for the rug Ryan had picked out and the huge sixty-inch flat screen he’d bought. She’d taken the smaller one from the bedroom.

  He didn’t have any kind of reaction to what she’d taken. Most likely he didn’t give a crap right now.

  After walking into the country kitchen, she placed a coffee filter in the machine then added the grounds and water.

  A stool being pulled out scraped against the wood floor. When she turned, she found him perched on the edge of one with his elbows up on the island, head cradled in his palm. He looked so dejected. She hurt for him.

  “When?” she asked.

  “Early this morning. We just left the hospital. She was so upset afterward she told me to leave her alone. I didn’t want to leave her.” Then he glanced up with a stricken expression. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”

  “It’s fine.” And it really was. She felt nothing but sadness for her ex. Maybe it had to do with the fact their marriage had been over long before it was official. Though there would always be a hurt from the things he’d said to her, the anger was gone.