The writer and the boxer - a sweet romance

Chapter 13

My stomach was in knots as I glanced at the boxing ring. It was day 60 and I was anxious, and excited, and also apprehensive, about being so close to the ring and watching Luc fight. I had the boxing-gloves pinned near to my heart hoping he would notice the spot I picked to show it off. I was glancing nervously around for 'her', I really wished she wouldn't be there but I knew that she had to be there, and I became a 'fat dirty little secret' once again, with just a thought.

I sank in my seat as my eyes met hers and felt the bile swimming in my mouth when her smile warmed her eyes. Was she waving at me? Did she know who I was and what Luc and I did or, in retrospect, didn't do but wanted to? Was she aware of the sexual tension that swiveled around us yet never rearing its head? My hand automatically called out to her as a sign of respect and my sadness closed in once again.

Just at that moment the announcer started to make introductions and he was the first one to make an entrance. The music blared and the crowd cheered. A mixture of 'boos' and 'yeahs'. I jumped to my feet but unable to scream or cheer just hoping he would glance my way.

Then our eyes locked and the magnetic force was strong as he nodded in my direction. I smiled to acknowledge his action and awaited his opponent to take his space in the ring.

He looked right at me. I couldn't believe the hype but I was grateful that it was me and not 'her' he nodded to before his fight.

The 1st round had begun and all I could see is one person knocking another person senseless. How can they call this a sport? They were beating each other to a pulp. By round three I was crazy with worry as blood splattered, what seemed like everywhere, creating a lovely crime scene. He had fell a few times and looked like he was ready to give up. Each time he stood and nodded at me. Was this his way of telling me he was fine or was that his gesture for me to leave? Anyway, I couldn't remove my ass from the seat as I was frozen with fright to the allocated seating. Maybe he knew something. Then I heard the cheering of the crowd and the standing ovation being given and I stood also to peer into the ring. He was giving his best. Some 'lefts' and 'rights' were being done in succession to his opponent. He was staggering backwards under the pressure. I was excited again and elated to see him hitting back so fiercely just when everyone had given up on him. His opponent fell and stayed down even after the '10' count. The ring was flooded with personnel from both the winning and losing camps. He won and I was one of his witnesses. His eyes found mine and we shared that heated moment, then I turned as I saw 'her' drag him close in an intimate hug while whispering something in his ear.

I dragged myself away from him, from the arena, from the location and found my way back home to my humble abode. I was glad to share that moment with him but I knew I couldn't accept being a part of a secret life.

I was a participant for years. I was not ready to concede to another covert relationship. I knew I wanted more. He was not ready yet. I had witnessed his triumph. He was fully aware that I had graced him with my presence. Now I was back in my comfort zone. Glad to have the experience and still determined not to be second fiddle in his world. Sighing, I opened my wine, sat back on my couch and replayed his visits over and over.

The fight was still fresh in my memory and his glances were not easily forgotten. I should've stayed but my pride wouldn't let me. He knew I was there, it's his information to use in whatever way he found it necessary.

AN. Do you think she should have ran away or stayed?

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