Chapter 14

A month has passed since the fight between Apollo and Ivan. A month in which I punished myself and isolated myself from the outside world. Rocky tried to persuade me to come and stay with him and Adrian temporarily until we knew more about Apollo's condition and when he would finally be released from hospital. But I couldn't accept his offer. I couldn't bare the fact to look him in the eye. Not after what had happened.

Christoph approved my vaccation from work, of course after I wrote him the article about the fight. The article alone cost me so much strength.

A month since I saw anyone. I literally barricaded myself in my apartment. I didn't want to see anyone, I couldn't see anyone. For the first two weeks, all I did was cry. Cried out of fear of Apollo, guilt, but mainly because of him.

In the third week, I started to feel the emptiness inside me, the loneliness. I slowly stopped crying every day.

In the fourth week, my thoughts took control of me.

As much as the last month was hell, HE was always in my head. Those images would haunt me forever. Every time I close my eyes, every time there's a sound from outside, all I see is his fist. His fist and the ice-cold, empty look in his eyes. I hear myself screaming desperately over and over again, begging Rocky to please throw in the towel. "Rocky please," I hear myself scream and feel the hot tears running down my face. "He's killing him". I can still clearly feel myself kneeling next to Apollo and praying to all the gods to please spare him. How he twitches in my arms and struggles desperately for air.

But the worst thing, and the thing I'm most ashamed of, is what happened afterwards. The hatred in his eyes. At that moment I thought my heart would jump out of my chest. Whatever happened in the ring, I never thought Ivan would get violent with me, especially not the way he was.

I can't take it anymore, the thoughts and flashbacks. After 4 weeks in self-isolation, I decide to leave my apartment and I know exactly where I have to go.

Ivan´s P.O.V.

He thought it would get easier with time. But he was wrong. So wrong. For the first two weeks, all he could think about was her. Her beautiful face and her enchanting laugh. Of the sparkling eyes that were once so full of joie de vivre. He took that away from her. In less than 24 hours, he took everything from her and he would never forgive himself for that. He has no regrets about what he did to Apollo. For Ivan, boxing was like any other fight. Dangerous. Anyone who got involved knew what could happen, and for Ivan it was always kill or be killed. But when he came to and realized what he had done, he wanted to tear himself to pieces. How could he have been so stupid?

In the third week, everything left him cold. He trained, boxed, destroyed, but nothing had the same meaning for him anymore. Not when she was no longer there.
In the fourth week, he completely lost his temper. During a sparring session, he took out all his frustration on the poor sap who was assigned to him as a partner. He didn't even last two minutes before he ended up unconscious on the floor.

Nikolai didn't think that was a bad thing, it just showed how dangerous Ivan really was. At that moment, however, he realized that if he was ever to have any sense again, he had to have her back.

Alexa´s P.O.V.

The sun shone warmly down on my pale skin. It was still relatively warm for mid-September. I walked around absent-mindedly. The people around me were laughing and joking around, but no matter how warm it was, no matter how bright it was, my world was all black and white.

I went to the only place where I could finally let it all out. I went to the cemetery. On the way I picked up flowers and a small smile played around my lips again after a month, because I knew if Mickey was still alive he would be screaming at me what to do with flowers.

When I arrived at his gravestone, I sat down on the ground with him and placed the flowers against the stone. I looked at the engraving for a moment.

IN LOVING MEMORY
MICKEY GOLDMILL
APRIL 7, 1906 – AUGUST 15, 1981

We lost him four years ago. Tears stream down my face. "Hey, Mick. I know I haven't visited you for a long time. I'm sorry, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. This place just makes it more real that you're just not here anymore." A sob overcomes me.

"There's a lot to tell, although I'm sure you've already seen it all." I wipe a tear away from my cheek with the back of my hand.

"I know you hate it when I cry. I have no idea where to even start. I still have the job you got me. You always said I should try to do something better with my writing, but nothing has come up yet." I fight against my tears in vain. How I wish he was still here.

"I'm sure you heard what happened to Apollo. It was terrible! He didn't stand a chance from the start. I hate myself for saying this, but he was arrogant and conceited the whole time. He completely neglected his training and..." by now I'm not even trying to hold back my tears. It feels so liberating.

"I was so scared for him! I... I begged Rocky to finally throw in the fucking towel!" I scream out.

"That reminded me of the fight against Clubber. When you" Inhale, exhale. "When you were dying. I know you screamed at him until he was gone, but..." My head sinks down to my chest.

"I'm sure you know about Ivan too. I wonder what you would say if you shouted at me. I wasn't going to. After the interview, there was something between us, but well, it doesn't matter now, I guess. After everything that happened, I can't forgive him. He almost killed Apollo and Mary Ann found out and slaped me in the face." I realize how I've talked myself into a frenzy.

"I just don't know what to do. I need you!" I drop my body onto his grave and cry as I realize that the sun has suddenly been blocked out above me and a hand gently wraps around my shoulder.