Loving the Ice Queen

Chapter 6

Barbara

I started learning mixed martial arts when I turned sixteen. I was smaller than girls in my age group, but I promised herself I'd never be helpless again.

At first, the skin contact with other people made me break into a cold sweat. But my teacher had been a persistent woman.

After two years, I could finally finish a class without going into a full blown panic attack. MMA had managed to cure me of my touch aversion after four years.

I moved with measured strength, my jabs and right hooks making drops of sweat splatter on the sandbag and mat beneath my feet. My phone dinged in the background, but I ignored it as I'd done for the last couple of days.

After a few minutes, I lowered my arms. Breathing heavy, I checked the phone on the table. Yep. It was Ryan.

The first message had been an apology one day after our latest meeting. I had replied to that with a short 'no need for an apology.'

Then came the next message, where he asked for another date. I did not reply to that message, nor to the other two following. Thinking about Ryan's words that day made me angry in a way I hadn't been for a long time.

I picked up the water bottle and headed to the french doors. The room in the back of my house was a small gym. Part of the ground was covered with black gym mats, a treadmill and a few weights occupied one side, and a sandbag hung near the french doors opening on the beach.

Pepper strolled into the room. In an unusual display of affection, the cat rubbed her length against my legs, then went out the french doors to sit on the back porch next to Pirate. I pulled on my hoodie and went outside. Sitting next to Pepper on the stairs, I leaned my head against the railing and let out a deep breath.

If something frustrated me, a session with my sandbag usually cured me. But it had been days since Ryan had spouted that nonsense and I was still pissed off.

A coward? How dare he? He had no idea what I'd been through.

And why was I pissed off anyway? He shouldn't have the power to affect me.

I rubbed my hand over Pepper's gray coat. The cat purred, the familiar vibration bringing a measure of calm. Minutes later, Pie came out meowing. She was looking for us. She hated being alone.

The three legged cat edged herself between me and Pepper.

"Stop kidding yourself," I mumbled to myself. I knew exactly why I was angry at Ryan. His words had hit a nerve, because it was the truth.

A truth I'd known for years. The fact that it was spoken out loud only drove it home.

I was a coward.

Eleanor- sweet, joyful Eleanor- was a hundred times stronger than me. Because where I had closed myself to the world after being beaten to the ground, Eleanor had had the courage to open up and find joy. Eleanor opened her heart to the risk of being hurt again while I shied away from living.

I pushed my sleeves up and stared at the marred skin of my forearms. The scars were part of the collection my mother had left all over my body. That bitch just had to leave a reminder for me.

Yes. I knew I was a coward. But that didn't make me any less pissed off at Ryan. An unreasonable emotion.

*** **** ***

There was a bouquet of flowers on my desk.

I blinked. But the bouquet didn't disappear. The bright colors stood out in the bland white of my office. I approached the desk and touched the red tipped yellow petals. Nope. The bouquet wasn't a fragment of my imagination.