Page 23 of MOM

The judges study every angle intently while Rocky holds each position with rock-solid stability, his breathing controlled despite the physical strain of flexing every muscle simultaneously.

"Come on, lucky twenty. Come on, lucky twenty," I mutter under my breath as Zane laughs and loops his arm around my shoulder.

"I'm so happy to see you like this," he says warmly.

I take my eye off Rocky for one second. "Like what?"

"This. Goofy and soft and…in love."

What can I say? He's right.

Being with Rocky has changed me. Before, it felt like I was living two distinct, polar opposite existences. Personal me and professional me. Now, the two overlap a lot more. I'm still a beast when my work requires it, but I'm starting to realize there's great power in being real and vulnerable.

My family saga may have been filled with tragedy and heartache, but I don't want to be trapped by my trauma. That's not healthy. I need to heal so I can move on and be a more fully realized version of who I am. Rocky's love has helped me begin the work of unpacking and processing my childhood shit.

My eyes return to the stage. Rocky's final pose is nothing short of spectacular—every muscle fiber contracting simultaneously in a display of pure power that silences the crowd for a split second before the roar becomes deafening.

He relaxes into a satisfied smile, winks my way, takes a small bow, then exits, waving to the audience who are on their feet.

The roar is so big I almost don't feel my phone buzzing in my pocket.

Kynan:It's not too late to join us up here. They've just put out lobster.

I quickly shield my screen from Zane because if he seesthat, he will drag me to the skybooth by my hair.

Me:We're all good down here. Thanks, though.

Kynan:No worries. You guys are still coming back to mine and Sawyer's after, right?

Me:Rocky and I have that thing, remember? But maybe after that?

Kynan:Of course, I forgot. No worries. Swing by whenever you want. We'll just be hanging out and chilling.

Me:

That's another great thing about being with Rocky—acquiring a built-in family.

The BBA crew have taken me in as one of their own. I love them all with their distinct personalities and unique quirks, but I think I've grown closest to Kynan, Sawyer, and of course, baby Ashton who is not in any way responsible for me suddenly following a bunch of #dadfluencers online.

Three more bodybuilders compete after Rocky, and then it's time. The whole arena is on edge as the judges deliberate over their final rankings. The competitors stand on stage, muscularbodies still and faces stoic, trying to contain their nerves as they anxiously wait.

I have my fingers crossed and am silently wishing for a twentieth win for him when the emcee's voice comes over the speakers. He drags out the placings, and with each name, I'm filled with a wave of nausea and relief that it wasn't Rocky.

There's only one placing I want him to get.

"Taking home the title tonight, please make some noise for Lucky Mr. Twenty?—"

I don't hear him announce Rocky's name. I'm jumping up and down like a lunatic, screaming with the crowd until my lungs burn.

He did it! He really did it!

Rocky poses for photos with his trophy, beaming from ear to ear.

I'm still on a high as Zane and I file out of the arena. "I'm taking you to the airport tomorrow, otherwise you'll miss your flight. On second thought, maybe I won't."

"Shut up. You promised," he says, smiling as he pulls me in for a hug.

"I know, I know. I'll see you bright and early."