In My Final Match, My Girlfriend Beat Me Down in the Ring

Ridgeport's underground fighting ring had one unwritten rule.

Your last match before you walked away was a death match. Whoever lost, left their life behind.

Almost everyone was sure I'd leave safely.

For six months straight, I'd held the top spot on the fighters' list without a slip.

I never thought I'd see Georgia James in that ring.

Every move I knew, she'd taught me.

Fighting her, I would lose. There was no other outcome.

The whistle blew, and blow after blow landed on me, tight and vicious.

Then a clean, sharp crack of breaking rib, and I went down.

The moment the referee called it, I heard Georgia sigh.

"Sorry. It was John's birthday yesterday. His wish was to watch me beat you in the ring."

"He's not well. The doctors say he might not see another birthday."

"This last wish of his, I had to make happen."

Down below, John Swanson sat in his wheelchair, color in his cheeks, a small smile at the corner of his mouth.

I lay on the floor, my chest barely rising, every breath a struggle.

Whether John would live to see next year, I didn't know.

But me, I wouldn't see the sun three days from now.

***

The shouting around me cut off all at once.

The referee laid a hand gently on my shoulder.

"Can you still get up?"

I lay there, feeling like the broken rib had shifted and driven into my lung.

My voice came out barely there.

"Uncle Stan, leave it."

Losing to Georgia, I could accept that.

Every move that had kept me alive this long in a place that chewed people up and spat out nothing had come from her.

Late last night, too wired to sleep, I'd climbed up to the highest roof of the gym.

The whole sky was full of stars.

In my earbuds, her soft, even breathing.

My heart was pounding like a drum, and I chose my words carefully.

"Tomorrow's my last match. Will you come watch?"

I wanted Georgia to see my final win with her own eyes.

A soft laugh came down the line.

"Of course."

She kept her word. She really came.

Swapped out my opponent herself, stood in the ring herself, and lost my life for me herself.

Georgia pulled off her gloves. There were a few marks on her face from the fight too.

She held out one slender hand in front of me.

"Don't be dramatic. Get up. The ring's no place for you to look weak."

"Cough, cough, cough."

The second before my hand reached hers, John's coughing carried clearly through the crowd.

He was hunched over, hand over his mouth, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

Georgia's brow tightened at once. She vaulted the railing and was at his side in a moment, tucking the blanket over his legs.

"The blood's too thick in here. You're too weak for it. I'll get you out."

Her tone was scolding, but listen closer and it was all indulgent helplessness.

"You just had to come see for yourself. If you wanted the result, I'd have told you."

"Everything I promised you, when have I not delivered?"

She held John steady against her, and at the door, she turned back to look at me.

"Stop lying there playing dead. I know how hard to hit."

"I know you're mad I broke your winning streak."

"I'll come get you tomorrow, take you to that place on the South Side."

It was her habit, always, to smooth over whatever came between us with a meal.

I closed my eyes.

But this time was different.

After they left, Stan helped me down off the platform, his voice bitter as he begged me to see a doctor.

My clothes came open. My body was already covered in wounds.

Bruised black and purple, an ugly sight.

Georgia's fists had been especially hard today.

I poured the medicated oil over the cuts, then bound my chest with the wrap.

Only once that was done did I have the strength to speak.

"I've only got a few days left anyway. Don't waste the money."

"What's left, I still have to save it for Grandma's treatment."

I dropped my eyes and forced a smile.

In my head I was already counting what was left on the card, how many rounds of treatment it could still buy Grandma.

My phone lit up. A news alert popped onto the screen.

The photo on the front was Georgia wheeling John out of the ring, her head bowed, her face gentle.

The headline was big enough, eye-catching enough.

【Romance Heating Up—Wedding Bells Soon for the James and Swanson Families?】

Whether he meant to or not, John had liked the post, then quickly unliked it.

Stan stood beside me, so worked up his voice cracked.

"These paparazzi run fake stories all day. Miss James's boyfriend is you, plain as day. He—"

I reached out and flipped the phone face-down on the table, my voice bitter.

"Matched families, a talented man and a beautiful woman. They do suit each other."