Page 63 of Revive Me

The unthinking confession sobers the mood instantly. I clear my throat, collecting myself as I ask, “Is that what you’re scared of? Coming all this way and then quitting anyway?”

Roman lets out a humorless laugh as he drops his hand back to his lap. “That would be the logical answer, wouldn’t it? Ishouldbe scared of that.”

“Nothing about this has to be logical,” I tell him. “You went through something life changing. Your path to recovery isn’t going to be linear.”

He watches me for a moment. “I’ve said it before, but you really would make a great psychologist,” he says eventually.

I try to hide my smile but fail. “I’ll add it to the resume as a special skill.”

“You should. None of the therapists I ever talked to got any of this out of me.”

Warmth fills my chest. “Side effect of my bullying therapy style,” I try to joke.

He doesn’t laugh. He just looks at me in a way I can’t read.

My smile fades as our eyes connect. I wait for him to say something else, but when he doesn’t, I ask gently, “So then what are you scared of if not quitting?”

The reminder of the true target of this conversation makes him exhale heavily. He looks away from me to stare at nothing on the wall.

“Succeeding, I guess.”

Bingo.

“Why does that scare you?” I coax.

“Because I don’t know what happens after.”

That has me frowning. “After…what? After you walk again?”

His gaze slides back to mine. And he nods.

“I mean…you can shoot for running after that. And working out. There’s always another goal to reach.”

“The goal I want to reach is unachievable,” Roman deadpans. “I can work as hard as I can for as long as I can, Liliana, but I’ll never get back in the cage again.”

Even knowing that fact doesn’t stop my heart from hurting for this man. I wish for every one of my patients to reach 100%, but that’s never been as true as it is for Roman.

“And I don’t know who I am if I’m not a fighter.” He continues, his voice taking on a slightly panicked edge. “I don’t know what to do with my time, I don’t know how to make money.Everythingin my life revolved around fighting. I don’t know who Iamif I’m not a fighter.”

Head spinning, I pull in a deep breath as I organize my thoughts. “Okay, let’s ignore the problematic pieces of that and assume for argument’s sake that that’s true. You’re done fighting. Is that usually the end of the world for fighters? What do they do after they retire?”

“Teach. Open a gym. Train the next generation of fighters.”

I should’ve known he’d be stubborn enough to have an answer for anything.

“Sonofighters ever enter another line of work? Or retire into a different hobby?”

“It’s not ahobby, Liliana. That’s exactly my point.”

“Okay, that was a poor choice of words?—”

He leans forward onto his thighs, begging me with his eyes to understand.

“The people who make it into the top 10 in an organization like the UFC don’t just stop being a fighter. Those qualities and habits and memories that got them to the highest level? That stays with them. And when they’re too old or injured to stay at the top, theychooseretirement. They prepare for a life without fighting.” Sadness shines in his eyes. “I didn’t get to do that.”

I nod in understanding, my eyes searching his. “Okay, I get that. And I hatethat you didn’t get to do things at your own time. But Roman…those guys still have a whole other life after fighting. They don’t juststopliving.”

Roman slumps back into the seat with a defeated sigh. Raising my eyebrow, I give him a look that screams,well?

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