I watched him as he drifted off, my thumb refusing to press the button to end the call. His perfectly plump lips parted, and I wished more than anything that I could kiss them goodnight. Being apart from the person I loved had shown me how much I had taken for granted; every kiss, every touch, every scent that I once had the luxury of experiencing were now moments that I yearned to have. My heart ached in ways I never knew it could. I wondered just how much of this we could endure.
* * *
“You came back,” T.J. shouted from inside the ring as I entered the gym.
“How else am I going to learn that Ninja Turtle spinny thing you did?”
He laughed. “That’s going to take some time. We’ve got a lot of hurdles to jump before we get there.”
I kicked off my socks and sneakers, and climbed the stairs. I tossed my sweatshirt onto the ground before swinging myself into the ring.
“Hair up, Curly Sue.”
I grimaced. “Everyone used to call me that when I was little.”
“Take it as a compliment. She was adorable.”
“Fighters aren’t adorable.” I swept my hair up, and held my hands out in front of him.
“Sure they are.” He slid the gloves onto my hands. “Just look at me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Arrogant, much?”
He grinned. “Says the girl who rolls her eyes constantly.”
I set my fists in front of my face when he picked up the pad, and prepared myself for the next hour.
“Go.”
My punches started quick and forceful. Though my arms were sore from yesterday’s session, I welcomed the burning sensation in my muscles.
“Today,” T.J. began. “I’m going to ask you questions while you punch.”
“Trying to throw me off?”
“It will help improve your concentration. It’s easy to hit when there’s no distractions around.”
“Okay.”
“What was the scariest moment in your life?”
I froze. “That’s your opening question?”
“Did you expect me to ask you what your favorite color is?”
I continued punching. “Being trapped inside my car.”
“What was so scary about it?”
“I thought I was going to die, and I knew it was going to hurt.”
“Was it the dying part, or the pain?”
“The pain.” Punch.
“You weren’t afraid to die?”
“Nope.” Punch, punch.
“So, you’re afraid to feel pain.”
“Who’s not?”
“Some people like pain.”
“I don’t think anyone enjoys being burned alive.” Punch.
“That’s fair. What about love?”
“What about it?” Right, left.
“When did you have your heart completely broken?”
“When my mom walked out on me and my dad.”
“Ah, see? I’ve struck a nerve. Your punches just got weaker.”
“My mom lives on that nerve.”
“Why?”
“She ruined everything when she left.”
“Like what?”
“My dad killed himself.” Right, left. “I crashed my car.” Right, left.
“What if I told you that the only thing your mom ruined was her own life?”
“How so?”
“Your father had two choices when your mom left: fight, or flight. Those are the choices everyone gets in life. You can either fight through whatever happens to you, or you can run away from it. He chose flight. He gave up. He was weak.”
My jaw clenched as I swung my fists.
“You got drunk to escape the pain. That’s why you crashed. You are weak, too.”
I swung even harder.
“Your mother didn’t love you enough. So what? You weren’t enough of a reason for your father to stay. Tough shit.”
I hit the pad with all of my might.
“That feeling inside you – that twisting in your gut – that is pain. It feels like you’re angry, but the anger is only there to cover up the pain. You need to learn to embrace it.”
My arms fatigued, and I dropped them to my sides. “How do I embrace something that I don’t want to feel?”
“You have to feel it. That’s the only way through it. Allow yourself to accept whatever you’re feeling in that moment. Be honest with yourself, and admit what’s really bothering you. Stop rolling your eyes at everything; stop trying to run away from it all; stop trying to bottle it up; stop evading responsibility for every situation you find yourself in.”
“I was in some pretty shitty situations. What the hell else was I supposed to do?”
“You are not in control of the things that happen to you, but you can control how you choose to deal with them. You always have a choice.”
I held his gaze as he stared down at me. I had always thought that I was stuck suffering from the tragedies in my life – you play the hand that you’re dealt, and there’s nothing else that you can do because it’s all out of your control. But I was not convinced of everything T.J. was saying. Not yet. I was not ready to accept responsibility for it.
“You don’t know what I have been through. You don’t know what it was like. I didn’t have a choice in anything. She left. She made the choice for me. She should take responsibility for what she did. Not me.”
“You can’t take responsibility for anyone’s actions but your own. If she’s not ready to take responsibility for her shit, then that’s on her. Don’t be like your parents. You need to get up and fight. You can’t stay on the ground curled up in a ball every time something bad comes your way.”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“Drunk and barely surviving is not the same as living and overcoming.”
“No, but it’s easier,” I retorted.
“It takes more courage to stay and face your problems than it does to run away from them. Right now, you need to decide something: are you a coward, Merritt? Or are you a fighter?”
I tightened my fists. “I’m a fighter.”
“Saying it, and being it are two different things.”
“That’s why I’m coming here every day, with you. So you can teach me how to fight.”
“Okay, then.” He lowered the pad, and his eyes narrowed. “One last question for you.”
I inhaled, preparing myself for what he was about to ask.
“Do you like pizza?”
My face twisted into a confused expression. “Pizza?”
“You came here from work, and it is now seven o’clock. Are you hungry?”
“I am a little hungry,” I admitted.
“Let’s go grab a slice next door. We can continue this conversation there.”
“I don’t want to take up your time. I can just eat when I get home.”
“I didn’t say you were taking up my time, did I?” He looked at me expectantly.
“No.”
“So, let’s go.”
T.J. was so confident in everything he said, he left no room for anything else. If he said it, he meant it. Cut and dry. I liked that about him.
While I stepped back into my sneakers, he threw a shirt on over his head. I tried to keep from laughing.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, giving me the side-eye.
I gestured to what was once a t-shirt that would now barely qualify as a tank top because of how much material he had cut off. “Why even bother putting a shirt on?”
“Listen, Merritt. You’re cute and all, but I think we should keep it strictly professional for the sake of my program. You can’t be telling me to take my clothes off.”
My jaw dropped open as he walked towards the front door.
He spun around to see my reaction as he walked backwards. “What? No snarky comeback? That’s disappointing, Adams!”
I huffed and stomped past him out the door.
As soon as I stepped into the pizzeria next door, the aroma of delicious New York piz
za filled my nostrils, causing me to salivate on the spot.
“I forgot how much I missed pizza,” I murmured.
“Why did you have to miss it?” T.J. asked. He stood beside me in front of the glass counter, surveying the different pies on display.
“I was in California for the past month and a half. Nobody else does pizza like we do.”
“What can I get ya?” the man in a white apron asked.
“Two plain slices. Well done, please.”
“The usual for me,” T.J. responded. “And one of those with everything on it.”
“You got it, boss.”
I followed T.J. to a booth at the far end of the restaurant. It was fairly crowded, and he seemed to know everyone there. I watched the two high school girls working behind the counter giggle to each other after T.J. waved to them.
“So, why did you go to California?” He leaned his elbows onto the table while we awaited the arrival of our food.
“My boyfriend is a singer. Tanner’s brother, Chase. He’s getting a record deal.”
He stared at me blankly. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“You asked me why I went to California. I said I went because my boyfriend had to go there.” I returned the blank stare. “How does that not answer your question?”
“I asked why you went. You told me why your boyfriend went.”
“I went because he went.” I crossed my arms. “He said he wouldn’t go unless I went with him.”
“Well that doesn’t sound very fair. I’m surprised you even went.”
My eyebrows pressed together. “What are you talking about?”
“He pressured you to make the choice that would be in his favor. It’s like an ultimatum.”
I laughed once. “No. You don’t know him. It was nothing like that.”
“Okay. If he’s so wonderful, why did you come back?”
One of the giggly school girls brought out T.J.’s tray of food, followed by her giggly friend who was carrying mine. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need,” she cooed.
“Everything looks great here. Thanks.” Completely oblivious, he took a giant bite out of his grilled chicken sandwich while the girls scampered off, whispering to each other the entire way back.
“You’re a real ladies’ man.”
“Those aren’t ladies. Those are kids.” He held up his sandwich. “Want to try a bite?”
“No, thanks. I’m all about my pizza right now.” I shoved the end of the slice into my mouth, and closed my eyes to savor the moment.
“When you’re done chewing, you can tell me why you left California.”
I frowned. “You’re ruining my pizza.”
“The sooner you stop trying to avoid this conversation, the sooner it will be over.”
I put my pizza down, and stared at him while I finished chewing. He grinned his boyish grin, patiently waiting, with part of his sandwich balled up in his cheek.
“You want to know what happened? Chase asked me to go with him to California. I said I’d think about it. The next day, my mom knocked on my door, after being gone for eight years, and completely caught me off guard. I left for California several days later, got a job as a bartender, and started drinking a lot. I told myself I would stop, but I couldn’t. So, I left.” I shrugged. “The end.”
“You want to know what I just heard?”
“No, but you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“You were unsure about going to California with your rock star boyfriend, but your mom came back into your life and threw you for a loop. So, you ran to get away from her. Once you got to California, your feelings caught up with you – and you ran from them, again. You tried numbing your pain with alcohol, but my guess is Chase caught on, and wasn’t happy about it – and what did you do? Ran from that problem, too. All that running. How is that working out for you?”
“Do you think I should have remained in California? I’d probably be a full-blown alcoholic by now. I had to get out of there.”
“Don’t you see what the root of all your problems are? The one thing that connects everything in your life?”
“It’s my mother. I told you – she ruined everything!”
“You’re right. It is your mother. She is the root where all of the issues you’ve created stem from. So, what are you going to do about it?”
I rolled my eyes. “If you’re going to tell me to talk to her, you can just save it. I have no interest in talking to her. Ever.”
T.J. set his sandwich down on his plate. “Your attitude is doing nothing for you. You’re only going to continue to spiral downward if you don’t stop this unhealthy pattern you’ve created. You have to be ready to stand up and say that you’ve had enough. If you’re not ready to change, then there’s nothing I can do for you.”
“You know what?” I rummaged in my purse for my wallet, and tossed a five dollar bill onto the table. “I have had enough. I’ve had enough of your interrogation and your verbal abuse. Enjoy the rest of your sandwich.” I slid out of the booth, and stormed out the door.
I had made it back to my car before T.J. ran out into the parking lot. I was just about to back out of the spot when my passenger door opened.
“Get out of my car, please.”
T.J. swung the door closed, and fastened his seatbelt. “I’m going to show you something. Drive.”
I hesitated. “I’m tired, T.J. I just want to go home.”
“We won’t be out long. I promise.”
“Where are we going?”
“Take Arthur Kill Road, and I’ll tell you when to turn off.”
I exhaled, and reluctantly followed his directions. I drove in silence, growing more curious with every turn I made.
“Pull in here.” T.J. pointed to the parking lot on my left.
“Uh, that’s a prison.”
“Kill the engine. I’m going to tell you something.”
Without the headlights from my car, the former correctional facility looked eerie in the darkness. Now closed down, the abandoned building was surrounded by nothing but barbed wire and trees.
T.J. removed his hat, and pointed to the scar above his left eyebrow. “You see this? This was from my dad. I was twelve.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Was he a fighter, too?”
“No. He was a drunk. He beat the shit out of my mom whenever he had too much to drink. He got me good a few times, too. He drank, and he turned into a different person – not that he was so great when he was sober. I was five when I saw him hit my mom for the first time. Needless to say, I had a lot of fear, and a lot of anger growing up.”
“Why did your mom stay?”
“That was the choice she made. She didn’t feel like she could get away from him. She didn’t think she could make ends meet without him. There’s a laundry list of all the excuses she told herself.”
I chewed my lip before asking my next question. “Why are we here?”
“My dad used to be in there, before they closed down and transported all the prisoners upstate.” He looked out the windshield as he spoke, and his eyes glazed over as if he was somewhere else. “I was trying to get him off of her one night. He was beating on her real bad. I was a scrawny twelve-year old. I punched him in the back a few times, but he elbowed me in the head,” he recalled, rubbing his scar. “I was knocked out for a few minutes. When I came to, he was holding my mom up against the wall by her throat, and there was nothing I could do. Her feet twitched, and then they just… dangled. I watched him choke the life right out of her.”
My hands covered my mouth to hide my mortified expression. “Oh my God.”
“After that, I was placed into foster home after foster home. Nobody wanted to deal with an angry, disturbed teenager. I got into a lot of trouble. I was mad at the world.”
“How did you end up where you are now?”
“The last home I went to was the home of an old boxer. He straightened me out, and taught me everything I know. I had to lea
rn how to work through my anger, and stop running from it. I learned that my childhood would always be a part of who I am, but it didn’t have to be the only thing that defined who I would become.”
I looked down at my lap, feeling foolish for being so upset about my problems when T.J. had been through an even worse hell. I could not even imagine what that must have been like for him. He had been through tough times – he had once been weak. If he could survive everything he endured, and come out stronger on the other side, then I should be able to do the same.
He lifted my chin with his finger. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t. Not anymore.”
Looking into his blue eyes, my frustration with him melted away. He was not being hard on me to be an asshole. He knew exactly what I was going through, and he knew he was capable of getting me through it. All he needed was for me to believe that he could – to trust him.
“Thank you for sharing that story with me.”
“I hope that you want to keep training.”
“I do. I just don’t know how to do this.”
He smiled. “That’s why you have me.”
Chapter Twelve: The Way You Need to Be Loved
“Do you have to train today?” Shelly whined. “It’s Friday night. Can’t you just say you’re not feeling well, or something?”
“No, Shell. It’s important and you know it.”
“I know. Can we go get dinner when you’re done? I’m starving.”
“Sure. No Brody tonight?”
“Nope. He’s doing poker night with the guys.”
“Okay, I’m just pulling up now. Think about where you want to eat. I’ll call you when I’m done.” I quickly jogged from my car to the gym doors.
“You’re late, Curly Sue.”
“I know, I know. It was crazy at work today.” I tore off my sweatshirt, and kicked off my sneakers as quickly as I could.
“Excuses, excuses.” T.J. wagged his finger at me from inside the ring.
“I texted you that I got held up at work.”
“Drop and give me ten.” He stood with his hands on his hips, a smug expression on his face.
I rolled my eyes, and saluted him. “Sir, yes sir.” Dropping to the floor, I began my set of push-ups.
“You can give me five extra for rolling your eyes at me.”
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