Authors note: Thank you for choosing to read on within this series. The feedback has been incredible. This chapter is another long one, so happy reading, I hope you enjoy it.
Feedback is appreciated. When it comes to hate comments, it takes longer to write them than it takes for me to delete them.
*
The rest of that week after Mel crashed her car and the week after, I didn't meet up with Mel at all. Mel said she needed a bit of space again, with Mel's injuries to be considered, divorce settlement, the extra hours she had to work through
with
her hand now stitched up, and a banged-up ankle. Besides, I had after all college work to do...
I guess it made sense. We had been moving pretty fast. But that didn't mean I wasn't a bit hurt. Or at least hurting. I so much wanted to take care of Mel in her injured state, and she wouldn't let me. I of course respected her limits, to my own emotional detriment.
We did luckily talk on the phone, however, the week was pretty hectic making some of the calls shorter. Mel did say that the divorce proceedings were moving forward, which I was happy about and they would over the weekend have some of Davids's friends over to pick up some of his things.
For my own part, I took it all out with even more boxing. Boxing, boxing, and more boxing. I barely could remember a time when I didn't box by now. With every punch I threw, I let out another ounce of frustration, to the point where my knuckles were all bruised up, even from within the gloves and the sports tape.
After the weekend, however, Freya started to up the ante. Even with my pent-up Mel-infused frustration, Freya's new regime was more brutal than before. I spent 3 to 4 hours in the gym now, between the warm-up, exercise, stretching and Freya's constant nagging about how I should not do this and not do that. The rational part of me knew it was awesome to get all this extra work done, to have this awesome sport to exhaust me and distract me from my frustrations, but I couldn't understand why Freya was pressing so hard.
She even introduced sparring, which was a whole new experience in itself. Wearing headgear, I boxed some of the other kids, including a 15-year-old. It was the first time I ever got punched in the face. It was fucking humiliating getting sent to the canvas by a kid 6 years younger than me. I got pretty fucked up, even if we didn't go full force. The body shots really knocked the wind out of me.
Tuesday was even worse. I had so many bruises on my body I could hardly move. My muscles screamed, and my joints were on fire. I was so tired I couldn't even contemplate quitting. But in the back of my mind, there was this one little guy who wanted to bail on this. Why did I have to endure this, when I could just... not work out so fucking hard?
After each sparring, Freya would scold me for what I did wrong. I tried to improve, but I found it unreasonable to expect me to be any good when I had been boxing for less than a month. And why? I worked boxing for fitness! I didn't need this shit. I was going to go get my management degree, find some small firm that would hire me, and grow a gut for the next 30 years. There was no real reason for me to put up with this torture and constant bickering!
"Why do we do this? It's too much" I panted, sat leaning on the ropes, exhausted. It was Wednesday, the middle of the week. Normally I would've been at work at these hours, but with the free time, Freya had me coming in more and more. And now I was in my 3rd hour of working out.
Today we finished with 3 3-minute rounds of bodyshot sparring. The fun part was, I had to only defend. I was banged up, exhausted, a little nauseous, and most of all frustrated.
"What do you mean? Do you wanna slack, newbie?" Freya said. She squatted down and pushed at my shoulder. It was her way of trying to lighten the mood and be playful. But I was in no mood. Not in the
fucking
mood!
"Fuck off," I said in a burst of anger. I didn't want to come off like that, but I was exhausted. From Sunday and up until Wednesday I had been working out almost three to four hours each day. I hadn't muttered a single complaint, and Freya kept bickering. Kept scolding me about being lazy, about how my defense was shit and my punches were worse. Sure, she gave the occasional praise, but it was mostly how shit I was. Like I didn't know!
Freya seemed slightly taken aback by my sudden outburst. I stood up quickly, and so did she. Before I could stop myself, I had kicked the corner buckle and jumped out of the ring. I could barely control my breathing. I must've looked pretty angry because Freya even took a step away from me. I could see it in her eyes. Freya never said a word, just stood there in the ring and looked at me wide-eyed, frozen almost.
She might have been a better boxer than me, but I was still heavier. Her reaction made me feel so empty inside. All the anger was replaced by a hollow feeling. Had she really felt threatened? I wanted to disappear through the floor.
Instead, I tore the gloves off and stormed into the locker room.
*
I spent the rest of that day force-feeding myself graph theory and a meal of oats and tuna. It was a horrible concoction, but I was no chef. Trent told me that I needed fiber and protein to recover, which made sense. He had recommended tuna and oats, as they were both cheap. But after having eaten that combo a few times, I think he meant those as separate options.
I still felt angry, though. More angry at myself. Why did I even let myself be subject to Freya's torture? I could just say no. She just told me to show up, and I did. I was also angry at myself for losing it with Freya. She did after all spend those hours in the gym, right next to me. I couldn't understand why. I was getting better, sure, but she had her own career to think of. Why bother with me?
Maybe it was the thing with Mel. Maybe it had built up worse than I thought. I knew I was being an ass, but I really missed her, and I couldn't get her out of my head. I wanted to help, but Mel wanted me to stay clear for a little bit.
I looked at the calendar. Tomorrow I had another boxing session. A fitness class, then Freya. What the fuck. I guess I could go if only to show her that I wasn't as angry with her as I seemed.
I looked at my phone and saw it buzzing. Mel was calling. I often worked with my phone on vibration, so I didn't always catch it immediately. Mel had been warned of this, so she didn't think I was ignoring her. If I was slow in answering, it meant I was working, which she of course was happy about.
"Hellooo," Mel purred at the other end.
"What's up? Done at work?" I asked.
"Sure am. Exhausting day. But you sound tired today?"
And so I vented my frustrations to Mel. She was patient and listened as I complained and moaned about how exhausted and tired I was. I was a bit worried that Mel would be frustrated with how whining I might've sounded, especially when I came to the part where I had lost it and gotten angry and how Freya reacted. I was careful not to mention anything about how frustrated I had been from being shut out. I didn't want her to feel forced to be with me.
"I thought you liked boxing?" Mel said at the end. "But if you don't want to, you don't have to. More energy for me."
Mel loved a good tease, and I was always happy to be teased, especially by her. Even now. My mood cleared a bit at that.
"Yesterday you talked about how much you had improved. Maybe you're just having a bad day, is all. It has been a long week, after all," Mel said, trying to encourage me.
Come to think of it, I had made significant progress. I was better at boxing. And it was fun to punch stuff. I was actually getting somewhat decent when I thought of how I started and how I now knew so much more just by reflex. And it was due to Freya taking me under her wing. I had to talk to Freya about the intensity, however. Mel really knew how to turn my mood and thought process.
