Chapter 27

After months of preparation,fight night finally arrived.

The gym was an ocean of lights and sounds, but Dan"s focus was on Emma. He watched her eyes scan the crowd until they landed on her towering opponent. A flicker of apprehension crossed her face, quickly masked by a veneer of determination. He felt her tension like a physical thing, a tight wire of nerves stretched to breaking.

As they moved through the check-in, Dan noted the way Emma"s hand tightened on her invitation, her knuckles whitening. He wanted to say something reassuring, but the moment wasn"t right; the action needed to come first. They wove through the crowd, the collective anticipation palpable, a shared breath held by hundreds.

Back in the dressing room, Dan tried to keep Emma in the zone with some warm-up and tactical advice, but also tried to reassure and relax her to avoid a ‘deer in the headlight' reaction from her.

Just as he was at a loss for how to distract her, Jack and Elena arrived. Their familiar faces were a welcome sight. Jack"s one-armed hug–firm and brief–was the kind of support Dan appreciated. Yet Elena"s whisper and the subsequent laugh it drew from Emma eased the knot in Dan"s stomach. For a second, Emma"s guard was down, and her smile genuine.

With about twenty minutes to spare, the couple retreated. Dan began wrapping Emma"s hands. Each roll of the bandage was an unspoken conversation, a silent transmission of his faith in her.

He watched her eyes, still holding shadows of worry, and tried to pour every ounce of his belief into the fabric binding her hands. The quiet ritual was something he enjoyed, a grounding moment for them both. Swallowing hard, he steadied himself for what lay ahead.

Despite not being a religious man, he sent up a prayer. The object in his coat pocket seemed to weigh a ton. He wondered about the wisdom of his decision, not what he was about to do, but about the timing.

Shrugging off the uncertainty, he focused on Emma's warm-up. His eyes never left her, tracking each shift and turn with unwavering focus. As she threw a punch, he was there to catch it, his hands firm and encouraging, a silent testament to her strength.

His words were low and deliberate, not commands but affirmations, spoken with the calm certainty of someone who believed every word. "Feel your power, Emma. You"re in control," he murmured, his gaze locked on hers, willing her to see the truth in his words.

With each weave and determined punch she gave, Dan felt a swell of pride. He moved with her, a step to her side, then back, a dance they"d perfected over countless hours in the gym. His gestures were small but meaningful—the slight nod of approval, the brief touch on her shoulder, a reminder that he was with her, every step of the way.

As they continued, the rhythm of their warm-up became a language of its own, a conversation of motion and intent. He was her anchor, a steadfast reminder of the strength she carried within. And as they moved together, Dan became more than just a coach; he was the embodiment of the belief she needed most.

When Emma's name was called, she was focused and ready.

Exiting the locker room, the gym around them was a carnival of noise and movement. Music pounded against the walls, laughter and shouts melded into a tapestry of human emotion, and in the ring, her opponent waited. A storm of excitement and fear wafted from Emma, but her gaze locked on the ring.

As she prepared to step forward, Dan caught her eye. "You"ve got this, girl," he said. He almost rather felt than saw the moment she believed it too. When her chin lifted, Dan knew his role was more than just a coach or a partner; he was her mirror, reflecting back the strength she sometimes couldn"t see in herself.

* * *

As Emma stepped into the ring, the noise of the crowd swelled to a crescendo, a wave of sound that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of her heart. She bounced on the balls of her feet, her gaze fixed on the opponent towering over her. There was a moment, just a breath of time, where fear flickered in her gut, but it was quickly extinguished by a wave of resolve.

The fight began, a whirlwind of movement and power. Emma"s gloves were extensions of her will, parrying and striking with precision. She felt strong and she and the other fighter seemed pretty even in power and skill. Until a punch slipped through, grazing the side of her head, a warning that sent a ripple of shock through her body. The follow-up kick thudded against her thigh, a brutal reminder of her opponent"s strength. The referee appeared in front of her. For a heartbeat, Emma froze, the world narrowing to the point of impact.

Shouts pierced the haze, Dan and Jack"s voices a tether pulling her back. The crowd was a distant roar, a storm she was separate from, but still a part of. Emma shook off the hit, her determination reigniting. Silently she nodded at the referee.

He stepped away. Her gloves found their target, a cross and hook delivered with all the ferocity of her pent-up frustration and fear.

The bell rang.

In the corner, Jack stood outside the ring, taking her mouthguard and offering water. Dan stood in front of her, the towel he waved a blessed coolness against her heated skin. His encouragements were a distant rumble, words lost but intent felt. She focused on her breathing, the rise and fall of her chest a counterpoint to the pounding of her heart.

As the bell signaled round two, Emma took her stance, a fortress of defense in the center of the ring. Her opponent loomed before her, less a person and more a shadow to be overcome. Then, with the clarity of muscle memory honed by hours of training, Emma unleashed a storm. Cross, jab, low kick, hook, each move a chapter in a story written with sweat and perseverance.

Emma moved and weaved. The larger woman in front of her was unable to follow her movements.

The opponent"s guard lowered, a crack in the armor, and Emma struck. A jab sent the woman reeling, a kick to the gut a punctuation mark that sent her stumbling into the ropes. The referee stepped between them.

Emma retreated, her stance still guarded, every muscle coiled and ready. But the count reached its conclusion, the signal clear. Her opponent was down, the fight over.

The crowd erupted, a sea of noise and motion, but for Emma, the world was a single point of stillness. She had faced her giant, her fears, and herself, and emerged victorious.

Her breaths came in sharp, triumphant gasps, the rush of victory pulsating through her like electricity. Her body vibrated with an exhilarating cocktail of adrenaline and elation, each heartbeat a drum of conquest echoing in her chest. She barely registered the cacophony of the crowd, their cheers a distant rumble compared to the thunderous victory coursing through her veins.

Suddenly, she was airborne, swept up in Dan"s strong arms. Her world spun with joy, the realization of her triumph crashing over her in waves. She laughed, a bright, unrestrained sound that mingled with the roaring crowd. As he set her down, her legs felt both rooted to the mat and as light as air, a testament to the paradox of her exhilaration.

Dan"s eyes locked with hers, a storm of emotion swirling in their depths. He dropped to one knee and the world around them blurred into insignificance. From his pocket, he produced a small, gleaming object that caught the light. Emma"s breath hitched; the battle adrenaline now joined by a surge of startled joy.

"Emma." Dan"s voice cut through the noise, clear and unwavering. "You"ve fought harder than anyone I know, in the ring and out. You"ve shown me what strength really is. I want to be your partner in every fight, every victory, every moment. Will you marry me?"

Emma"s eyes widened, her mouth opening in a gasp. Her hands, still covered in the bulky boxing gloves, trembled slightly. A rush of emotions flooded her, from surprise to an overwhelming sense of love.

"Yes, Yes, A thousand times yes," she managed to say, her voice a mix of laughter and tears. "Yes, I"ll marry you!"

The crowd, picking up on the unfolding drama, quieted just enough to catch her acceptance. Then, as Dan fumbled with the ring and her boxing gloves, their laughter and cheers filled the arena. Emma helped as best she could, clumsily trying to assist with the gloves that suddenly seemed more like a barrier than protection.

After a few comical attempts, the glove and bandage came off, and Dan slipped the ring onto her finger. It glinted there, a symbol of their commitment, as resolute and enduring as their bond. The crowd"s cheers were a joyful crescendo that carried the weight of their shared happiness and the promise of their future together.