Fighting Silence (On the Ropes #1)(71)

It wasn’t picture perfect. Half of Flint’s body hung off the twin-sized bed, and Quarry’s head was twisted in a way that would cause him to be sore for a week. I was deaf, yet Eliza was still smiling.

It was all wrong.

But right then, it felt exactly right.

After quietly closing the door, I led her down the hall to our bedroom. We collapsed against the cool sheets, exhausted by the evening but miles away from being able to find any rest. I held her close as she doodled my eyes. Then I gave up watching the fluid movement of her hand across the paper and started watching her face.

Her eyes squinted with every curve, and her mouth twitched the moment she started the elongated strokes I knew to be my lashes. She never once glanced up to study my eyes; she knew them from memory.

My attention was drawn away when she lifted the pad into my line of sight.

Talk to me, she had drawn in big bubble letters across the paper.

I shook my head and then slid down to rest on the pillow, facing her.

He’s afraid.

I grabbed the pencil from her hand. Who?

I started to hand it back, but she grabbed another off the nightstand.

Quarry, she wrote.

He’ll be okay.

Not if you shut down, he won’t. She gave me an impatient look.

I couldn’t say that she was wrong. Hell, I knew she was right, even though I wanted to pretend she wasn’t.

I’ll try.

Then talk to me.

“Please,” she mouthed. Her chin quivered, and her nostrils flared.

Jesus, she was fighting hard, which was everything I absolutely wasn’t doing.

I opened my mouth, but not a single sound came out—at least not to my ears.

“Do I sound weird? Like a deaf person?”

She gave me a huge smile that made sounding ridiculous completely worth it. Tears pooled in her eyes as she quickly shook her head and said, “No.” In big letters, she wrote, You still sound like MY Till. But you were always weird, so maybe the answer should be yes.

I watched as her mouth opened and her chest shook with laughter. It damn near killed me to know that I was missing the sound that should have accompanied it.

You need to talk to them tomorrow. Show them that it’s still you.

“Okay.”

But maybe quieter. You’re yelling.

“Shit. Sorry,” I replied, trying to speak softly even though I had no idea how to gauge my volume.

Better. She smiled. Now talk to me about why you won’t get the implant.

I guess there was no beating around the bush.

“Doodle, I don’t know. I have to fight. I don’t have anything outside of that ring.”

That’s not true at all and you know it. You have me and the boys.

“That’s exactly it! I have you and the boys. And I finally found something I can make enough money at to provide for all of you. I’m not giving that up. I can’t! I just can’t!” I was sure I was yelling, but I couldn’t stop.

Two days ago, I’d made fifty grand in fifteen minutes That was more than I’d made in two years working my ass off. I couldn’t go back to the struggle just to keep food on the table—not even to hear again.

I’m not asking you to give it up, Till. I just want to understand your reasons. I didn’t even know the implant was a possibility until today. You never talk to me about this stuff.

“I only found out a few years ago—back when I’d never have been able to come up with the money for it. But honestly, I don’t want to think about it, Eliza. Not with you.”

Fantasy?

“It’s kinda my thing.” I smiled sheepishly.

Her mouth began to move, and I just blinked at her. I watched her bite out the word, “Shit,” before going back to the paper.

How about you just make us your thing?

“I can do that. But I can’t get that implant,” I announced again.

She bit her lip and rolled away.

“Look at me.” I flipped her back over, and the expected tears were already present.

“Did you know that Slate thinks he can get me a fight in a few months for double what I made the other night? That’s a hundred thousand dollars, Doodle. Think about it. If I win that one, who knows! We could be millionaires by the end of the year.”

She wasn’t impressed and rolled her eyes

“I’m serious. It could happen.”

She forcefully scribbled on the paper, It’s just money!

“No, it’s not!” I roared, jumping off the bed. “It’s a life. It’s security. It’s being able to provide for you. It’s being able to send Flint to college and pay to get Quarry to the best doctors so he never has to experience this shit. It’s buying you a home and a car, maybe a whole f*cking studio where you can sit and draw for the rest of your life. Fuck accounting! You hate it.” The more I spoke, the angrier I became. I wasn’t mad at her. I just f*cking hated reality. “It’s more than money! It’s being able to make babies with you and not having to bust my ass at a job I hate when all I truly want to be doing is sitting on that f*cking couch”—I pointed to the living room—“with our family.

“Do you have any idea how it feels for a man to not be able to provide for his family? It’s crippling! Don’t make me feel guilty for making this choice. Damn it, I’m doing it for all of us. If it means you guys are taken care of, I will sit in silence for the rest of my f*cking life.”