Saving Boston (Rewritten)

When He Is Most Peaceful

For two years, I spent more time keeping myself busy, so I didn't have to think about him. His absence didn't make falling asleep easier or stop the nightmares from coming more frequently. And I didn't realize how much I had changed until I was dancing around the ballroom tipsy off of expensive bottles of champagne with John.

When he invited me to his engagement party, I didn't ask if Kinnick was coming; I already knew. It led to questions about how the tattooed boxer was doing and how sobriety was treating him. My heart still resides with the blue-eyed man. After giving it to him, I wasn't sure if I could ever take it back.

Then he approached me at the party last night, and everything came rushing to the surface. I listened to his words, wondering how not to throw myself into his arms. How could I stand before him without saying how badly I have missed him since he has been away without thinking of my mom?

He wasn't the only reason I couldn't sleep. The pain in my cheek made me think about the man who visited me in my office, I couldn't get any rest. I struggled to feel safe in my home. If he could find me at my firm, I wondered if he would come looking for me there. So, my eyes won't close when my head hits the sheets.

It started with Luke - he would bury himself inside me whenever I needed relief. He thought I wanted a relationship with him - I wanted to forget about what happened to me. When he started getting attached, I stopped inviting him to my room and turned to alcohol. Now I am mixing it with my coffee to get through the day.

So, now I am turning to John. When he started talking about Kinnick, I sat back and listened as I imagined what it would feel like to see my boxer walk across the ring at this very moment. Except my boxer wasn't fighting anymore. It has been two years since he slipped into a pair of gloves. He hasn't raised his fists since he started to realize there was nothing left to fight for. It didn't sound like my Kinnick, but I wondered if it was because I am no longer his Bo.

The rain poured over John's car, pelting the glass with tiny droplets of water as they fell from the clouds above. As he drove past the front of the brick building, I could see a warm glowing light casting down on the damp sidewalk. My heart ached as the familiar boxing ring came into my view. Everything looked like a memory of yesterday. I shared so many memories with a blue-eyed boxer with many tattoos and twice as many secrets.

The trainer next to me told me about the nights he found Kinnick underneath the overflowing water in his bathtub. It was because he started drinking so heavily that he couldn't keep himself awake, but he was on the verge of alcohol poisoning and trying to save himself. John spoke so nonchalantly about it that I wondered how many times it happened, but I never asked.

And when he told me about the girls, the countless girls, I felt my heart drop. He told me how clear Kinnick made it when he slept around. He didn't want to replace me. He slept with these women to prove that he never could. But that didn't comfort me.

I didn't want to hear about the woman lucky enough to fall asleep in his bed underneath the satin sheets we used to share. On the same bed we used to tangle our bodies in. When the sun hit the bed just right in the morning, it caught his skin, and I remember wondering for the first time if this was love. Did she know how lucky she was, or did she not wake up early just to get a few moments to see him when he was most peaceful?

I wondered if they were gentle with him. Did they whisper that it was okay to take off his shirt because he was still ashamed of his scars? Or did he still have to get drunk every time he slept with someone because he still hasn't come to terms with his past? All I wanted to know was that they were kind to him.

"Do you want to go inside?"

I looked at the ring, wondering how not to think about him. "I don't know."

"Bo," he looked at me. "No matter what Kinnick has done, you will always be a big part of me. I have told you things before I couldn't trust with anybody else. Life has been better with you in it. I love you, kid."

I threw my arms around him. "I love you more, John."

"I am sorry for not telling you. I wish I could have, but it wasn't my place. I hope you understand that."

"I felt betrayed," I admitted. "I was embarrassed that everyone except for me knew."

"Nothing will ever be able to explain how sorry I am for that."

John opened the front door, allowing me to walk inside first. The warm weather made him open the windows and prop the door back. The breeze floating through made me think I could make it through without worrying about the possibility of something else happening. Before John could pull the pads from the closet, my phone started buzzing in my pocket.

"I'll be right back," I turned to John.

"Where are you going?"

"Outside."

"It is two in the morning."

"I'll be okay," I promised.

I pulled the hood over my head to keep me safe from the water. The rain was falling slowly. It hit the pavement softly, soothing my soul as I stepped into the night. I rubbed my temples, hoping to relieve the pressure in my head as I pulled my phone out.

The last thing I excepted was someone to be walking around in the middle of the night, but my shoulder slammed into someone. Before I could fall, a hand snaked around my waist, pulling me near the dark side of the street. I elbowed their ribs, making them lose grip on my body.

The last thing I excepted was someone walking around in the middle of the night, but my shoulder slammed into someone. Before I could fall, a hand snaked around my waist, pulling me near the dark side of the street. Fear flared through my body, making my limbs weak as I stumbled into the hold of a stranger.

"Bo," the familiar voice filled my ears.

My body betrayed me when it fell victim to his touch. I craved the heat radiating from his body. I let him consume me as his firm chest pressed against me. It reminded me how much I missed being in his hold, in his presence. Every muscle he trailed his fingers along ignited. I would always respond to him. He's the only one who knows my body inside and out. 

The faint cigarette smell that lingered on him wasn't evident anymore. Alcohol didn't float off his breath. It was minty and sweet. The scent made you sigh with relief like you did when you stepped in the front door after being away from home after a long trip. As much as I wanted to push away, I was homesick.

His raspy voice hummed against me. "What are you doing out here by yourself?"