"Yeah. Eleven o'clock."
"Who's the opponent?"
"Someone from Ohio. Drove in specifically to challenge me. Supposed to be good."
There's something in his voice that makes me look at him more carefully. "You're worried."
"Not worried. Just... aware. The competition's gotten tougher."
He's not wrong. Over the past two years, the Pit has grown from a local underground fight ring to something that draws fighters from three states away. Word spread about the undefeated champion, about Rampage who hasn't lost a single fight in two years, and now men come from everywhere wanting to be the one to take him down.
So far, none of them have succeeded.
But it gets harder every time.
"You'll win," I say with certainty I genuinely feel. "You always do."
"Because you're always watching."
It's true. I haven't missed a fight in two years. After Olivia was born, I thought maybe I'd have to stop going, but Sarah volunteered to babysit on fight nights, and Cole insists that having me there makes the difference. That knowing exactly where I am, seeing me in that back corner where he made sure I'd be safe, keeps him focused in a way nothing else does.
"Always," I confirm. "Now go shower. You have flour in your hair."
He grins and kisses me again before heading toward the stairs.
I watch him go, still can't quite believe this is my life sometimes, and then turn my attention to salvaging dinner.
By nine o'clock, Olivia is asleep in her crib upstairs, Archie has forgiven us enough to demand attention, and I'm getting ready to head to the gym.
I find Cole in our bedroom, wrapping his hands like he always does before a fight. He's shirtless, wearing just his fight shorts, and even after two years of seeing him like this, the sight still makes my mouth go dry. He's added more tattoos. One that covers his left shoulder now—Olivia's name and birthdate in simple black script. He got it the day after she was born, disappeared for three hours while I was still in the hospital, and came back with it bandaged and a look on his face like he'd just done the most important thing in his life.
"Ready?" I ask.
He looks up. "Yeah. Sarah's here?"
"Downstairs with a book and strict instructions to text me if Olivia wakes up."
"She won't wake up. She never does."
"I know. But I tell Sarah anyway."
He stands and crosses to me, and even now, even after being married for a year and a half, after having his child, after building this entire life together, when he gets close like this, my heart rate still picks up.
"You don't have to come tonight," he says softly. "If you're tired from work, if you want to stay home with Olivia—"
"I want to be there," I interrupt. "Always. You know that."
"I know. But I also know you worked a long day and—"
I put my finger against his lips. "Cole. I want to be there. I'll always want to be there."
He catches my hand and kisses my palm. "Okay."
"Besides," I add with a smile, "someone has to make sure you don't get distracted and let some guy from Ohio actually hit you."
"That happened one time."
"Two years ago, when I first showed up."
