He stepped closer.
“You’re still fighting Friday.”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“Good.”
I walked out.
But before I reached the door, I heard one of the trainers whisper:
“Derek, don’t underestimate him.”
Derek laughed.
“Look at him.”
I kept walking.
He didn’t know.
Claire didn’t know.
Nobody in that gym knew.
Before I sold HVAC systems, I had spent years learning how to survive situations where losing didn’t mean losing money.
It meant not coming home.
That night, I opened the closet in my motel room.
Behind several boxes was an old duffel bag.
I hadn’t touched it in years.
Inside was my old military gear.
And beneath it was a photograph.
Five men standing shoulder to shoulder.
Young.
Tired.
Alive.
I stared at the faces.
Then at mine.
I barely recognized that man anymore.
I put the photograph back.
I wasn’t going to become him again.
