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Not funny.
It was a possibility. One I didn’t want to enter my mind the night before the fight. Leave it to Chris to throw it at me.
Love you too, bro.
At least he had made arrangements to keep them busy. That was something. Not enough because I didn’t want Mom to try to nurse my wounds after either. Never allowed anyone to do that. I had a cutman by the ring and my physician who I trusted totally. That’s it.
Still had no idea why I allowed Sydney to clean the cut on my head. Maybe it was because she was so damn stubborn and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Or maybe it was because she had put the cut there in the first place.
“Do you have any other news you want to share with me?” I asked sarcastically. “I mean, there’s no pressure to keep my head clear and focused or anything.”
He laughed. “No. I enjoyed that one enough. But I did want to wish you luck tomorrow.”
“Don’t want to lose your money?” I asked.
Chris replied in such a serious tone that there was no way I would doubt his sincerity. “Didn’t even bet. I know how hard you’ve worked on going up a weight class. You’ve earned this opportunity. I hope you come out with the belt. But no matter what, I hope you know how proud I am of all you’ve accomplished.”
It was the first time she recognized this was work, not play. It meant more to me than having him here.
Damn it. Now you tell me you're proud?
Good thing I wasn’t an emotional guy, because this touched me, even if I wasn’t about to admit it to him.
“Thanks Chris. I’ll do my best.”
“I don’t expect anything less from you. Now, go eat and get your rest. You have a big night tomorrow. You got this,” he said.
I sure in hell hope so.
“Will do. Thanks,” I said and ended the call.
I put my phone on the table and stuck my fork into the cold spicy chicken with glass noodles. Before even taking a bite, I laid my fork back on the table. Easting was something I needed to do, but not what I wanted. My mind was still on Sydney and seeing her was what I wanted. Seeing her right now would be the worst thing for me. Might as well toss in the towel on the fight now. But a text couldn’t hurt.
ARE YOU STILL AWAKE? I asked her. She could easily be in bed. It was almost eleven and she had work in the morning.
YES, I AM. DO YOU NEED SOMETHING?
You in my bed. In my arms.
HOW WAS YOUR DINNER?
That was as lame as asking her about her job, or the weather. I’d never used anything like that as a pick-up line. If I had, I probably would still be a virgin.
STILL EATING. IT’S GOOD AS USUAL. HOW ABOUT YOURS?
Yup. Boring conversation. And not anything I wanted to ask her. CAN I CALL?
She replied, OF COURSE.
I dialed her number, and she answered right away. “Is everything okay?”
“Ya. I just wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
“Yes, I did. More than an hour ago,” she chuckled. “What’s really on your mind? Are you calling to cancel Sunday?”
“No. Why would I do that?” I asked, enjoying the fact that she called me out on not checking in on her sooner. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
“Well, everything is okay and you’re calling me late at night. What should I think?” she asked.
