Page 6 of A Major Love

“You got something else you want to say?” I asked, my voice laced with attitude.

“You don’t have to leave, baby. We can talk this through.”

“You told me I was childish and emotionally unavailable. Give me one reason why I should stay and entertain a conversation with you.”

He sighed. “I apologize for saying that shit, but I fully expected you to agree to move in with me, so I was caught off guard.”

“You being caught off guard doesn’t give you the right to say mean shit. You meant what you said, and there’s nothing you can say to convince me otherwise.”

I turned to walk away, but again, he grabbed my wrist.

“Can we sit down and talk like two civilized adults?”

“Yeah, we can, but not today. I think you need a minute to cool off. If we talk now, it won’t be productive.”

This time, when I walked away, he didn’t stop me.

“I’msure you all are wondering why I called this press conference, so I’ll get right to it. Some of you have been speculating for months, even years, about when I’d hang up the gloves. Well, that time has come. My next fight will be my last fight.”

I looked into the sea of reporters and fans as I spoke, and as soon as the last word left my mouth, everyone began talking at once. I nodded to my manager and one of my best friends, Brax, and that was his cue to allow questions from three reporters.

He stepped in front of the podium and held his hands up. Once the chatter was at a respectable volume, he pointed at someone.

“You, in the green,” Brax said.

“Thank you. Mr. Lloyd, how long have you been contemplating retirement, and what made you finally take the leap?”

“It’s been in the back of my mind for about a year. After my last fight, I wasn’t itching to get back to training like I usually am. That was when I knew it was time.”

“You, over there in the red,” Brax said as he pointed.

“Thank you. Mr. Lloyd, most professional boxing careers last eight to fifteen years. You just reached the eight-year mark, and I don’t doubt that you have a few more good years in you. Do you think you’re selling yourself short, and have you thought about how much money you’re losing?”

“I’ve had a short but extremely successful and lucrative career, so I don’t think I’m selling myself short. Not only do I want to leave on my terms, but I also want to leave while I still have my wits about me. I’m not sure if you know this, but being punched in the head repeatedly by some of the strongest men you’ll ever encounter isn’t good for your health.”

I paused while the crowd enjoyed a good laugh, then continued.

“As far as money goes, I think I’ll be fine.”

“One more question. You, back there in the purple,” Brax said, pointing to someone in the back.

“Thank you. Mr. Lloyd, this question has nothing to do with boxing, but I have to ask. You’re more on the private side, but you don’t hide the fact that you have a five-year-old daughter. Do you plan to get married and have more children after retirement?”

“That question depends on one person, and that person isn’t me. That’s all for now. Thank you all for coming out.”

I turned to leave the podium, and although I was obviously done, they shouted questions at my back. I made it into the back seat of the car; Brax got in on the other side, and my securityguard and other best friend, Jrue, slid into the front passenger seat. My driver, Bo, an older man in his late sixties, who’d been with me since I’d found it necessary to have a driver, pulled away as soon as the last door closed.

I lived in a six-bedroom mansion in Wadsworth, IL, a far northern suburb of Chicago that was actually closer to Wisconsin. It was also only ten minutes from my hometown, which I liked because I was close to my family.

When I started making real money about six years ago, they let me pay off all their debt, which wasn’t a lot, and buy them a home. Godfrey and Marjorie Lloyd were proud parents but would never let me take care of them.

My father worked as a data analyst, and my mother was a general manager of a large hotel chain. She was what I called a late bloomer because she stayed home with my sister and me for several years.

They had me right out of high school, got married, and my sister, Freya, was born three years later. After a short stint in the army, my father went to college and entered the workforce after graduating.

My mother went back to school part-time when I was about twelve, and she eventually earned a degree in business management. She joined the workforce later than most and absolutely loved her job.

“How do you feel?” Brax asked.