"TEN!"
And the entire stadium erupted. Iris had gone the distance. She'd lasted ten rounds against the light-weight champion of the college division, and she was still standing on her own two feet, while her opponent was being held up by her team. Iris hadn't won, but she'd done even better—she'd proven to the world, and to her father, and to herself, that she was someone worth believing in.
Sweat poured down her face and stung the pulsing cut over her left eye. Wisps of her hair stuck to the back of her neck and her temples. Her heart was pounding, her knees and feet ached. She knew she had bruises against her ribs and on her abs. She could only see out of one eye. But through the pain and through the absolute elation, through the cheers and hugs and shouts of her trainer and her cutman and the rest of her team, Iris had one thought on her mind—
"Barry!" she shouted. The yearning in her for him was sudden and fierce. It made her stagger. "Barry!" She turned round and round in the ring—"You went the distance against the greatest! How does it feel—" there was a mic shoved in her face. "What? What? Barry!—I don't know, man, it feels great—" she pushed the mic and the person holding it away, "Barry!" All around her were people and bodies and lights, now the announcer was telling the world who she was, it was all a spinning, dazzling mass, but all she wanted was—
"Iris!" Through the crowd Iris saw him, tall and wide-eyed and grappling his way to her. She reached her arms out for him. "Barry! Barry!" and he was there, like he always was for her, his smile wide and just for her, his arms thrown around her to lift her up against him and twirl her around. "You did it!" he cried, "You did it! You were so good, Iris! You were perfect!"
Iris clasped him tight with all the strength she had left in her, and then she held him back by the shoulders to take him in. She asked the first question that came to her. "Hey, Barry, where's your bowtie?" The red one she'd given to him, that he wore for good luck, it was gone, and she could see his button down shirt buttoned all the way up.
Barry was looking at her with wonder and with piercing joy. "Iris, I love you!" he had to cry it loud for her to hear. "I love you!" and the kiss he gave her was so bright and so good, she knew that this was all real—this was her victory, and he was her man.