“Hello, Emily.”

He spoke firmly, and for all the coldness in his voice, I could have been a complete stranger. As my pulse raced, I saw him sitting on my bed, fully dressed with his arms rested on his knees. He looked beaten up and tired, but more importantly, he was stone cold sober.

“WHY AREN’T YOU IN BED?” I asked him, stunned.

“Because you’re not with me,” he replied. I was tired, defeated, and mostly sad as I planted myself dejectedly down next to him. He looked almost as miserable as I felt.

“I saw you before the fight, and everything was fine. Then less than an hour after you meet my mother, you’re gone. What the fuck did she do this time?”

Any semblance of self-control that I’d managed to scrape together crumbled in the face of his pain, and the tears ran uninhibited down my face.

“We never really stood a chance, O’Connell. I thought that what I’d left behind was the worst thing that could ever happen to me, but it’s not. This is worse. I’m going to destroy everything that you’ve worked for if I don’t end this now.”

He still looked miserable, but as he clenched and unclenched his fists he was eerily calm.

“Why aren’t you yelling and going ballistic right now?” I sniffed.

“Because, sunshine, I’m trying to be patient while I find out why you think you’re leaving me, and then I’m going to tell you why that just ain’t gonna happen.”

“You are the most stubborn, obstinate man that I’ve ever met,” I huffed, but he didn’t even raise a smile.

“What did she say, Em? I have a right to know,” he asked, quietly.

I took a deep breath and contemplated the shit storm that I was about to bring down on Sylvia, but O’Connell was right. He had a right to know. I would do right by him, but I wouldn’t lie to him.

“She didn’t tell me anything that wasn’t true. The more fights that you do means more time that you’ll spend away from me, while I have to stay here to finish my degree. You’ll meet loads of gorgeous women who’ll be throwing themselves at you, and even if you don’t cheat on me, you’ll spend so much time reassuring me that eventually you’ll feel like you need to choose between fighting and me. Either I’ll lose you, or I’ll end your career before it starts. That and knowing that Frank is looking for me and what he’ll do to you to get to me was enough.”

He got up and paced, before leaning over my chair and gripping it so hard that I thought it would break. His jaw locked tight, and I have never seen such pure, restrained rage in all my life. I didn’t know how he was controlling it, but if he let go of whatever trigger he was holding onto, I had a feeling that he would lay waste to something. Finally, with a hoarse shout, he gave up and started pounding on the wall until his knuckles bled. I didn’t know how to make him stop, but I couldn’t watch anymore. I threw my arms around him from behind and held on as tightly as I could. He was so powerful that I doubted that he could even feel me, so I put my lips against his neck and kissed him between reassuring him gently.

“Stop, baby. I’m here, okay? I’m here. Just stop or you’re going to hurt yourself.”

He stopped punching, but he was still angry, and I saw how much it cost him to rein in all that anger.

“Everything,” he muttered. “Everything good in my life. Anything that makes me happy or makes me feel good about myself, she takes it away. You and boxing are the best things I’ve ever had, so it’s pretty ingenious of her to use one to take away the other.”

“She didn’t want you throwing away your career for me.”

“I’m sure she fucking didn’t. She found out there were sponsors at the fight, and she got a whiff of money. You threatened her income, and she did what she does best.”

I didn’t know what to say. Regardless of her motives, her point was still effective.

“Are you sure it’s just about the money? O’Connell, anyone can tell a mile off how fucked up and insecure I am. Sure, I’ve come a long way, but to be honest, I wouldn’t want anyone like me for my son, either.”

He held his hands over mine against his heart, and I rested my head against his huge back. His breathing was evening out, and I could feel that the fight had gone out of him.

“Em, will you lay down with me? Right now, I need to hold you, and this is a conversation you need to get comfortable for.”

I nodded my agreement, and he must have felt me because he turned around and used his thumb to wipe away the tears under my eyes. The knuckles of his hand were grazed and bloody, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Wash away your tears, baby. I’ll make you a cuppa.”

In less than five minutes, he’d gone from beating down my walls to making me tea. The pair of us couldn’t me any more messed up. Even the thought of the conversation we were about to have exhausted me, but I knew that it was overdue. Taking O’Connell’s advice, I grabbed a quick shower while he pottered about. The blistering hot water soothed me. Craving comfort, I changed into my pyjamas then gratefully accepted the hot cup of tea he gave me as I sat cross-legged beside him on my bed.

“What are you smiling about?” I asked him.

“I like that you’ve changed into your pjs. It makes it harder for you to run from me.”

He took a deep breath and really seemed to contemplate what he was about to say.

“I’m sure that Kieran, the gobshyte, has told you about my pathetic upbringing, and I’ve told you a bit about how it was. The things I went through are things that I never want my own kids to know about. I mean what eight-year-old should have to wake up and clean vomit off the floor before they get themselves ready for school and scrounge for something to eat? The times when she would stay clean and sober became more and more infrequent, but the older I got, the angrier it made me to have to live like that. I mean, she was the parent and I was the child, but it’s like the relationship was reversed. By the time I was a teenager, I was already pretty big and pissed off most of the time, with no idea how to deal with it. Every time she’d get sober, she’d promise me faithfully that she’d try and be a good parent this time around. You know, actually be there for me like a ma should. One Christmas, she got me this second-hand computer console. It was old, but it came with a load of games, and Kier and I fucking loved it. When I came home from school two months later, she’d pawned it then vomited half of what she’d bought with the money over the sofa. I was so angry, and I wanted to hit her so badly, but she was still my ma, you know? She was a shite parent, but she was the only one that I had, and when she was sober, she acted like she loved me so much. So, I dealt with my temper the only way I knew how. I picked fights with anyone who crossed me, pretty much anyone who wasn’t her. Danny caught me and Kier getting rowdy with each other, and after a supreme bollocking, he invited us to the gym. It gave me an outlet for my rage, and for the first time, I had a bit of focus. I’m pretty sure that I’d be in a very dark place now if it wasn’t for Danny. The first time she realised I was disappearing, probably because she woke up alone in a pool of her own puke, she asked around until she found me at the gym. She was blind drunk and fucking humiliated me in front of my friends and Danny. That night, I was supposed to be sparring with Mac, and I literally beat the crap out of him. Danny banned me from the ring for two weeks, and I think that’s when he understood why I am the way I am. He could have tossed me out, but he put me back in the ring and learned to read my moods. It gave me a coping mechanism, but my temper is still always on a knife’s edge. If I lose it when Danny isn’t around, and I’ve been drinking, then it isn’t pretty. Then I met you, and I can see from a mile away how different you are, we all can. It’s like you’re the calm in a storm, and just being around you gives me peace. Instead of just coping with this shite, you make me feel like I have something better to look forward to. Making it as a professional boxer isn’t the only thing I want out of life. Don’t get me wrong, it would be cool if it happens, but I want more than that. I want a home and a family. I want to know that if I lose or if it’s been a crappy day that I’m coming home to someone who loves me, no matter what. I want a reason that makes me believe that there’s something more than what I have now. I want you, sunshine. The rest of the shite just doesn’t matter.”