Page 13 of Big Wild Fighter

Chapter Seven

Grace

Marlon’s probably already gone.

I haven’t heard from him since last night, and I don’t need to. That call from his manager? It was everything. Everything he’s worked for, everything he’s dreamed of. I’d be selfish to expect him to stay here—for me—when a career-defining fight is waiting for him in Chile.

But knowing that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

The truth is, I wanted to believe I was smarter than this. I told myself from the start that Marlon was temporary—a fleeting thing I could enjoy while it lasted. I thought I’d kept my heart out of it, that I could walk away without a scratch.

God, I was such a fool.

It’s laughable now, really, how blind I was. The way he made me feel safe and seen. The way he’d look at me like I was something rare and precious. The way he fit into my world so seamlessly—talking to my parents like he’d known them for years, brushing his hand against mine under the table, kissing me in a way that made the rest of the world fall away.

I didn’t guard my heart. I handed it to him on a silver platter, and I didn’t even realize it until it was too late.

Now he’s gone, and the next time I see him, it’ll be on TV, in some glossy, high-profile fight broadcast to millions. He’ll be larger than life again, out of reach. And I’ll be here, in this little Italian restaurant, pretending like I’m fine.

“Grace, order up!” The cook’s voice booms from the kitchen, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I blink, realizing I’ve been standing in the middle of the dining room holding an empty water pitcher like a complete idiot. Shaking myself, I set it down and head for the pass.

The cook slides a plate of spaghetti carbonara onto the counter, his sharp eyes narrowing at me. “You okay, kid? You’ve been off all day.”

I nod quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah. Just tired.”

He doesn’t buy it, I can tell, but thankfully he doesn’t press. “Table twelve’s waiting,” he says gruffly, gesturing to the plate.

“Got it,” I mumble, grabbing the dish and weaving through the tables toward a young couple in the corner. They look so happy, so in love, and it’s like a knife twisting in my chest.

I turn away quickly, swallowing the lump in my throat as I head back to the kitchen. I’m being ridiculous. It’s not like I didn’t know what I was getting into with Marlon. It’s not like I didn’t know he’d leave.

But somehow, knowing doesn’t make it any easier.

By the time the afternoon rush starts to wind down, I’m running on autopilot. The ache in my chest has dulled to a low throb, and I’m grateful for the small reprieve.

The lull in the afternoon crowd means I can finally take my break. I grab a lukewarm cup of coffee from the back counter and slip into the staff room, collapsing onto the worn-out sofa. It creaks under my weight, but I barely notice. My body might be here, but my mind is somewhere else—or maybe with someone else.

I lean my head back and close my eyes, letting out a slow breath. I try to picture him already in LA, probably going over fight strategies or getting prepped for some glossy promo shoot. He’d look good, of course—he always does. But now, instead of smiling at me, he’d be flashing that grin at cameras. The thought stings, even though I tell myself it shouldn’t.

The bitter coffee burns as I sip it, but I welcome the distraction. It’s better than thinking about him.

When my timer goes off, I force myself off the couch, rinsing out my mug in the sink before heading back to the dining room. The second I step out, Brodrick waves me over from behind the counter.

“You’ve got a table,” he says.

I frown. “What? I just got off break.”

“Yeah, well, they refused to take anyone else.” He smirks like he finds this all very amusing. “Said they’d wait however long it took for you to come back.”

My stomach flips. There’s no way—no way—it’s who I think it is.

I grab my notepad from my apron pocket, my hands suddenly clammy. I try to reason with myself as I make my way over. Maybe it’s some regular customer who liked the way I remembered their drink order. Or someone too picky to risk a new server.

But deep down, I know.

And then I see him.

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