Page 47

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Even though I know I shouldn’t, I can’t help myself. I’m sitting on my bed, the TV flickering in the dark as I watch UXW . The volume is barely audible—I don’t want Annika to hear. She’d call me out, tell me I’m being self-destructive, that I’m torturing myself for no reason. But none of that matters. I’m drawn to the screen like a moth to a flame.

The moment Ryan’s entrance music hits, my stomach twists into knots. He steps out onto the stage, his presence commanding as ever, but I see it—the pain in his eyes, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. He’s not the man who used to light up every room with that cocky grin. He’s hurting, and it’s like looking into a mirror.

Tears spill down my cheeks as I watch him. His promo is raw, filled with emotion as he calls Kyle out. I feel every word he says in my bones. This is what he loves, what he’s sacrificed everything for. Including me.

I pull my blanket tighter around myself, sobbing quietly into it. God, why am I doing this? Why am I putting myself through this pain? I tell myself that in a few months, it won’t feel like this. The ache will dull, the memories will fade, and the sight of him won’t tear me apart. But right now, it feels like I’m drowning in it.

Eventually, I fall asleep, the TV still playing in the background.

The next morning, I wake up to the soft light of day filtering through my blinds. My eyes are puffy and sore from crying, and my heart still feels heavy in my chest. I grab my phone from the nightstand and see a missed call from Travis.

It feels strange, but I can’t bring myself to call him back. Not yet. I love Travis, and I know he means well, but I need space. After last night, I’ve decided to put some distance between myself and everything UXW—at least for now. I’ll text him later. Or maybe tomorrow.

I force myself to get out of bed and into the kitchen. I’m done wallowing. I whip up a healthy breakfast. eggs with spinach, whole grain toast, and a strong cup of coffee. No more gallons of ice cream or endless chips and salsa. It’s time to pull myself together.

Just as I’m about to sit down, the door buzzes.

Annika isn’t here, so I walk over, still clutching my coffee. My mind barely registers what’s happening as I unlock the door, expecting maybe a package delivery or a neighbor. But when I pull it open, my heart stops dead in my chest.

It’s him.

Ryan Pierce.

He’s standing there, his massive frame filling the doorway, looking like a man completely unraveled. My breath catches.

His dark brown hair hangs loose, falling past his shoulders in wild waves, but it’s his face that stops me cold. Bruises bloom across his skin, dark and angry. A cut stretches just above his brow, another along his cheekbone. Swelling lingers along his jaw, evidence of every brutal hit he took in that ring. My stomach twists.

His molten chocolate eyes are locked on mine, softer than I’ve ever seen them. Raw. Exposed. Wrecked. But beneath all of it, there’s something else—a storm brewing just beneath the surface, barely contained. His fists clench at his sides like he’s physically restraining himself from reaching for me

“Natalie,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I need to talk to you. Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby.” His voice cracks like it physically hurts him to speak.

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My breath catches in my throat, my fingers tightening around my coffee mug. The shock, the sudden flood of emotions, it all paralyzes me. I want to slam the door in his face. I want to throw myself into his arms. I want to scream, cry, beg him to leave, beg him to stay.

He reaches out, his fingers twitching as if to touch me—but his hand hovers midair before he drops it. His eyes never leave my face.

Tears blur my vision, but I force myself to take a breath. Don’t do this, Natalie. Don’t let him in. Don’t make this harder.

I grip the doorframe, my nails digging into the wood, torn between logic and longing. Every instinct screams to shut the door, to protect myself from the storm that is Ryan Pierce. But my heart—stupid, reckless thing that it is—won’t let me.

I step aside.

Without a word, I lead him toward my bedroom, my heart pounding so loud it echoes in my ears. I don’t want Annika to walk in mid-conversation, and besides, I need privacy for whatever this is.

Once inside, I turn to face him. He looks down at me, his expression a mixture of regret, pain, and something deeper—something desperate. Slowly, he cups my face in his hands, his calloused palms gentle against my skin. The second his skin touches mine; it’s like I’m burning alive.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispers, his thumbs brushing away the tears I didn’t even realize were falling. “Fuck, baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

But I can’t stop. The dam breaks. The tears flow freely, hot and unrelenting. I bite my lip, trying to suppress the sobs, but it’s useless. There’s too much—too much hurt, too much love, too many things left unsaid.

“Ryan…” I whisper, my voice shaky, but before I can say anything more, he pulls me into his arms.

His embrace is everything I’ve been missing—warm, strong, safe. His scent—sandalwood and something darker, something distinctly him—fills my lungs, wrapping around me like a memory I can’t erase. I bury my face in his chest, breathing him in, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world melts away.

“I fucked up,” he murmurs into my hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I pushed you away because I was scared. But I can’t…I can’t live without you, Natalie. I tried, and I can’t do it. You’re everything to me.”

I look up at him, our faces inches apart. His eyes glisten with unshed tears, and for the first time, I see him. Not the wrestler, not the cocky powerhouse that the world sees. The man. The one who’s breaking right in front of me.

“You broke my heart,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

“I know,” he says, his voice barely audible. “And I hate myself for it. Every single day, I’ve hated myself for it. I thought pushing you away would protect me. That if I didn’t let you in too deep, I wouldn’t lose control. But I lost control the second I met you. You wrecked me, baby. You turned my whole damn world upside down, and instead of holding onto you, I ran like a coward.”

Tears slip down my cheeks, but he keeps going, his voice raw and unfiltered.

“I wake up every morning reaching for you. Every match, every city, every fucking second without you has been hell. I thought I was strong, but I’m nothing without you. Nothing.” His hands tighten around me. “I love you, Natalie. I love you so much it scares the shit out of me.”

I shake my head, my heart aching. “You didn’t just push me away, Ryan. You shattered me.”

He nods, swallowing hard. “And I will spend the rest of my life piecing you back together, if you let me. I will prove to you, every damn day, that I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll fight for you. I’ll fight until you believe me.” His hands frame my face again, his touch desperate and reverent. “Just… please. Don’t shut me out.”

I search his face, looking for any hint of doubt, but all I see is raw, unfiltered love. The walls I’ve tried to keep up start to crumble, brick by brick.

“I love you,” he says again, softer this time, like he’s breathing life back into me. “I will never stop loving you.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, his words carving their way into my soul. Then, before I can stop myself, I crash my lips into his.

The kiss is desperate, all-consuming, full of every emotion we’ve been holding back. His hands slide down my back, pulling me closer, closer, until there’s no space left between us. My fingers tangle in his hair, his low growl vibrating through my body as his tongue brushes against mine.

We lose ourselves in each other, and for the first time in weeks, I feel whole.

When we finally break apart, our foreheads rest together, and he gently wipes the tears from my cheeks. His fingers are soft, his touch reverent.

“I’ll never let you go again,” he whispers. “I swear, Natalie. You’re it for me.”

I nod, my heart full, and for the first time, I let hope bloom again.