Page 75 of Sunsets & Slow Dances

She bit the inside of her cheek, the way she always did whenever she was contemplating something, and then blew out a breath. “I thought you were going to talk about us, about the other night, because, you know, Felicity is in town.”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.” I felt like an asshole not addressing the night we’d spent together. “Yes, of course, we should talk about that. I guess I just…I don’t know; ever since I came home, you’re the person I want to call and talk to about everything. I didn’t realize how much I missed you. Not just the physical part, but being able to tell you things and talk them out with you. You were my best friend. I missed that. I missed you. But, you’re right, we need to talk about what happened.”

“No, no, nooooo.” She drew out the syllable as she shook her head. “We donotneed to talk about what happened. Um, so this fight you were offered, you said it would set you up financially?”

“Yeah.”

I didn’t like the fact that she’d moved on so quickly from wanting to talk about us. Historically, Nadiaalwayswanted totalkabouteverything. She tackled issues like she was Warren Sapp facing Marshall Faulk, she took them head-on and body slammed them. So why was she deflecting now?

“When was the last time you had a fight?” she asked as she scooped a bite of the macaroni and cheese onto her fork.

“Didn’t follow my career, huh?” I grinned, hoping to disguise the fact that it stung a little, knowing that she hadn’t.

For some reason, I thought she might have, out of curiosity, if nothing else. I’d kept up with her as much as I could through social media. I’d seen every post, watched every reel, and read every story.

Her eyes met mine, and the look in them stole all the air out of my lungs. “I couldn’t.”

There was so much emotion—so much feeling—behind those two words. She took another bite, and then another.

We sat eating in silence before I finally got the courage to ask, “Why not?”

After chewing and swallowing, she put down her fork and lifted her eyes to meet mine. “Do you want the truth?”

“Yes, because, unlike Tom Cruise, Icanhandle the truth,” I teased.

Her lips curled in amusement, but then her expression turned somber once again. She took in a shaky breath. “It was too hard to see you. I just…missed you too much. It hurt too much. To go on with my life, I had to try and forget you existed.” She shook her head, and tears pooled in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like?—”

“No, don’t apologize. You didn’t say anything wrong. I’m glad we’re talking about this.”

“So am I.”

She sniffed and took another bite of her mac and cheese. For the rest of the dinner, we talked about her work at the school. I wanted to ask her about the guys she’d dated. I wanted to ask her about the night she’d spent with Jerry Clemons. I wanted to ask her if she missed me, but I didn’t. I was scared to know the answers to those things. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon as we drank our wine and each gave Peanut bites of chicken.

“Five years ago,” I told her, after finishing my final bite.

“What?” Her gaze lifted to mine.

“My last fight was five years ago. After Matty was born, I needed to have more income stability, so I started working in construction. I did both for a while, but then, Felicity kept taking off on more and more trips and being gone for longer and longer periods of time. She would flake when I thought she would be there, and I realized I couldn’t do both, so I retired. Martinez was the last person I fought, and it was a split draw. I always said that the only way I’d come out of retirement was if he did, and he has.”

“Are you ready to fight him? I mean. ready, as in being in shape. I mean, I know you’rein shape, but are you in fighting shape?”

“No,” I admitted. “I’m not. At my age, I’d have to start training right away. Which means I’d have to go back to Arizona.”

I watched intently, waiting to see what reaction, if any, she had. For a second, I thought I saw a flash of disappointment. It was brief, and she quickly disguised it, but it was there. I’d bet my life on it.

“And I wouldn’t just be going back to live a normal life,” I explained. “I’d be training, which isn’t a nine-to-five or even five-to-five schedule. It’s grueling physically, mentally, and emotionally. I don’t even know how it would be possible as a single parent.”

She was quiet for a beat before asking, “What about Felicity?”

“What about her?”

“She’s here, so I thought you guys were?—”

“We’re not,” I quickly set the record straight. “Felicity and I are over.”

“Does she know that?”

“She knows it. The question is whether she wants to admit or accept it.”

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