Page 17 of Road to Absolution

Simply put, I loved her and would always give her anything I could, even if it left me in the dark—keeping Kenny the undiscussed subject in our relationship. Kenny was gone, irrevocably, and my wife wanted it to stay that way. But now, everything had changed after what I had learned from Viola about Lilah’s first kiss. So, with great pain, I was going to finally have to deny my wife of a want. Her mental wellbeing had to take precedence.

The early evening of the match, the ref held my gloved hand in the air as we circled in the center of the mat, so many boxing fans screaming and cheering at my win. I was breathing hard, dripping sweat, and still undefeated—just like my team wanted. They were nearby, in the ring, hugging and yelling with the crowd. Nonetheless, I felt utterly alone. So many people were present, so many smiles, but not my Lilah’s.

Viola had sworn up and down that Lilah had no feelings for this biker, and I believed her. But I was riveted with many questions because soon after that damn first kiss, Delilah and Kenny became deeply involved.

What happened in Daytona? How did that kiss start the turning of wheels still felt today?

Now, in the boxing ring as a winner, I felt I was losing the biggest fight of all, yet I wasn’t even sure what I was battling. What exactly had Kenny done to my wife?

Instead of celebrating my win, I felt frustration mounting.

Lilah…

Even though I knew she wasn’t at the fight, my eyes kept scanning for her until a TV camera was in my face, along with a microphone. The reporter was gleaming, “Maverick, how does it feel to continue blowing minds? In high school you stopped fighting after the loss of your father, then jumped back into the scene in college, to now look like a contender to go All. The. Way!”

It was because of Lilah that I even got back into the sport. She was the one who had given me the courage to face a deep love I had shared with my dad: boxing. He and I had shared so many years in the ring together as he trained me…

Now, could I pay it forward? Could I help her find the courage to face her past?

Lilah…

I wanted to feel her in my arms. I wanted to hold her so tight she never felt fear again. And I wanted her to tell me I had nothing to worry about with the biker, Art. I wanted—

“I want to go home.”

The reporter blinked, baffled by my words. He tried to laugh it off. “Uh, not the response I was expecting—”

“I want to go home.” I looked around, trying to get someone from my team, my Cut Man, anyone to understand I was leaving. Now.

When my trainer, my Corner Man, stared at me in disbelief, I decided not to even bother trying to explain. I wanted to go home, and that was it.

I turned in a circle to speak to all the patrons that had come to see me fight. “Thank you—” A microphone suddenly appeared in front of me, so I spoke into it. “I want you all to know,” the crowd went quiet, so I continued to share what my heart was screaming, “I want to thank each and every one of you, even if you weren’t rooting for me, for coming tonight.” I hit my sweaty chest with my red and white glove. “Means so much. For those of you who follow me and know my life story, you know tonight is another monumental step for me.” I gestured my glove to the ceiling, pointing to my pops in Heaven. “He would be so proud.” My throat threatened to close. “That’s why I want to spend the rest of it with my wife, who is too pregnant to be here.”

Fans cheering had me feeling like they understood my intentions were solid; I just wanted home.

I yelled, “Until next time, everyone!” Then I slipped between the ropes and into a circle of security that scrambled to surround me. More fans cheered and yelled as I jogged past them, so relieved I hadn’t canceled the flight change I’d made earlier.

Lilah, I’m coming home.

With a duffle bag over my shoulder, I was waiting in line to board a plane when Tucker’s mug showed up on my phone’s screen. I dismissed the call since I had yet to talk to him after hanging up on him earlier that day. I wouldn’t have answered the next call, either, had Tucker not just texted:

Mercy, brother

My wife is gloating that our bromance is over

Your butt-buddy needs to redeem himself

Trying not to smile, I answered, “What?”

Tuck was playfully flabbergasted, “Mav, she’s brutal! Please tell me our divorce isn’t happening.” Not even biting the inside of my cheek could prevent breaking into laughter. Tuck dramatically exhaled. “Oh, thank God.” He yelled to his wife, “Told you he still loves me, Vixen!”

In the background, I heard her griping, “Such bullshit. That weak-tit didn’t even last twenty-four hours!”

Them being their playful selves told me danger wasn’t near, so the extra weight of fear lifted from my burdened shoulders. “How’s my wife?”

“Loving her new home, not watching a boxing match—that rocked, by the way, thank you very much for that easy five-K—and completely unaware her husband is coming home a day early.”

Walking forward in line, my brows bunched. “How do you know?” I had told Viola I wasn’t using the early flight.