Melissa entered federal protection again.
Derek cooperated with investigators.
His gym eventually reopened under new ownership.
I never saw him again.
But one morning a package arrived on my porch.
Inside were a pair of four-ounce MMA gloves.
No return address.
A note rested between them.
You were right. Survival and fighting aren’t the same thing.
I hung the gloves in my garage beside Danny’s old
photograph.
Claire signed the divorce papers the following week.
She didn’t get the house.
She didn’t get half my uncle’s trust.
And I didn’t celebrate.
That surprised people.
Friends wanted
me to take a vacation.
Buy a motorcycle.
Date younger women.
“Live a little,” they said.
Maybe they meant well.
But for the first time in years, I knew exactly what living meant.
