I taped the box shut. One handed. Crooked. Ugly.
I stood up, swaying slightly, and turned to the TV stand.
The tears hit harder, a fresh wave of grief that buckled my knees.
There was a hoodie draped across the stand.
Cal’s hoodie. The “Deadlock” one. The branding he was so proud of.
I reached out and grabbed it. I brought it to my face, inhaling deeply.
It still smelled like him. That specific, clean scent of his skin.
I sank onto my bare mattress, stripped of its linens, clutching the hoodie to my chest like a lifeline. I curled around it, trying to make myself small, trying to disappear into the fabric.
My phone buzzed on the floor where I’d tossed it.
I pulled it out. The screen was a barrage of notifications.
Texts from Evan.
Just checking in. You okay?
Let me know when you land.
Texts from my dad.
U Haul is loaded. Let’s move.
And the news alerts. The endless stream of wrestling news that I couldn’t escape.
ESPN: THE BOTCH OF THE CENTURY: INSIDE THE FALL OF TIMELESS SILAS REED.
TWITTER: MEET THE NEW FACE OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING: DEADLOCK REIGNS SUPREME.
SPORTS ILLUSTRATED: CORANTO AND MARTINEZ UPDATE: CAREERS IN JEOPARDY.
I knew what they were. Even now, it was still Cal and I, existing in the same universe. Linked forever. Except this time, I was the cautionary tale. He was the legend.
Through tears, I reluctantly opened my messages. I scrolled past the condolences. Past the questions.
I clicked on Cal’s name.
There were still texts from that night in Charlotte I hadn’t bothered to read. The timestamp mocked me.
Can you please come back here?
Can we talk about this? Please?
I don’t care about wrestling, Si. Come back.
He had begged. The man who bowed to no one had begged me to come back. And I had ignored him. I had gone out and destroyed everything instead.
My tears turned into near sobs, the gut punch of it all slamming into me again. I wiped my face with my good hand, my thumb hovering over the keyboard.
I typed a message. I knew I wouldn’t send it. But fuck, I wanted to. I needed to say it, even if only to the void.
I love you. I’m so fucking sorry. I wish you were here. I miss you, so fucking much.
