𝐂𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕

There are only three things in this world that have proven to keep me sane over the last few years. One would be fighting, of course. Is it healthy? Probably not, but it works. The second is Cassie, which is unfortunate for her. She's been through all of my bullshit and has still stuck by my side for almost twenty years now. And last but not least... dogs. Especially Poppy, since she's as loyal as her owner. Even though she's more of a newcomer since she's only three years old.

While I kneel on Cassie's hardwood floor, my fingers massage Poppy's ears in a sloppy rhythm. She's so relaxed, she's basically drooling all over the floor now. When my eyes drift toward the doorway, I see Cassie walking in with reluctance. As if she's not sure she should enter her own kitchen. Just knowing the fact she's hesitant in her own house because I'm occupying her space rattles me beyond belief.

I release Poppy from my hands and slowly stand while keeping my eyes on Cassie. She just stands there in the entryway with her eyes on me, and I know she's trying to read me. She's given me this same look for years, trying to gauge what mood I'm currently in. I internally wince at the thought of how careful she's always had to be around me. The fact I'm part of the reason she walks on eggshells, even in the comfort of her own home.

She approaches me slowly, her arms casually rest behind her back while she crosses the kitchen. When she's directly in front of me, I almost have to hold my breath so I'm not inhaling her vanilla body lotion she's addicted to. The way she smells like sunshine and rainbows is something that's burned into my core memory.

"I need you to take a deep breath," she advises cautiously and bites her lip.

Jesus Christ, what did she do? If I have to take a deep breath, that means she has to tell me something I'm not going to like and I'm really not in the mood for it today.

"What is it, Cass?" I ask with a defensive tone.

"Do you trust me?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

I sigh heavily and do as I'm told. I inhale deeply through my nose and instantly feel intoxicated by her scent. She doesn't even realize how much she's torturing me.

"I know you hate Christmas, but I got you something," she blurts while pulling a medium-sized wrapped box from behind her back. She even put a damn bow on it.

An annoyed grunt bubbles in my throat while I roll my eyes to the back of my skull. She knows how much I hate it, yet every year she still shoves a box in my face. I wish I had it in me to appreciate it rather than feeling the emptiness I feel each year, but that'll never change. Christmas is for people to shove expensive gifts in everyone's faces for their fuck ups all year. The "spreading joy" saying they plaster everywhere is just a crock of shit.

"Cass—" I say before she interrupts me.

She quickly outstretches the box in her small hands. "I don't want you to say anything until you open it."

I look at it hesitantly, my eyes flicking from her to the box.

"Please," she pleads. A hint of hope shining in her big brown eyes.

I swallow hard and accept the box from her slowly. Afraid it's going to blow up the second my hand connects with it. I look at her one last time before running my finger down the side of the folded paper. When I open the box, heat runs down my spine when I catch a glimpse of leather gloves inside.

I snap the box shut and hand it back to her as if it burned me. "No," I say sternly and shake my head. "Absolutely not."

"Cain, please—"

"No, Cassie! I'm not going back," I state firmly. I turn my back to her and start to walk out of the kitchen when I feel her warm hand wrap around my arm.

"Cain, listen to me," she pleads, her voice breaking at the end.

I grunt in response, but I don't move a muscle. I don't turn toward her, I don't walk out of the kitchen like I want to, either. I just stand there, counting to ten slowly in my mind.

"You need this," she says.

One... Two... Three...

"You need something to let this out."

Four... Five... Six...

"It's just that... You're a great fighter, Cain. I know you can do this."

Seven... Eight... Nine...

"What happened at the last fight isn't your fault," she says barely above a whisper.

I don't even make it to ten before I whip around to face her. She flinches at my sudden movement and snaps her mouth shut.

"Wasn't my fault? How was that not my fault, Cassie?" I ask. "It's not my fault that I can't control myself? Or is it not my fault that sometimes I don't want to stop?"

"You can't—"

"No. You were there that night. Tell me what you saw from your perspective," I request while folding my arms across my chest.

She closes her eyes while taking a deep breath, and I immediately regret asking her to relive that. I know full well it still haunts her. It's not even during the fight. It was everything after.

Her mouth opens slowly while she tries to find the words before I hold my hand up. "Never mind. Don't do that to yourself," I say.

I don't want to know what she saw through her eyes. It'll only amplify my need to separate myself from her entirely this time.

"I'm just worried about you," she says through a shuddering breath. Her eyes well with tears while I fight the intense urge to reach out to her.

All I want is to tell her I'm sorry for being the way I am. For always being the one who drags her down, but I can't help but want to comfort her and take her pain away. Pain that I've caused her. I don't deserve her, and she, more than anything, doesn't deserve me. Someone like me doesn't deserve that sort of happiness I know she'd strive to give me. I can't have her throw her life away for a worthless piece of shit like me.

I run my hands down my face slowly and mentally weigh my pros and cons. I'd have a way to let out my frustration—pro. I wouldn't get arrested for beating someone senseless—pro. I could lose control again—con. I could end up scaring her away for good—major con.

She slowly outstretches her arm and rests it on my forearm. A burning jolt travels up to my shoulder—just like it does every single time her skin connects with mine. "You need to stop carrying all this guilt, Cain."

"And what if next time I don't stop, Cass? What then? You don't get it," I tell her while staring at the floor. I don't deserve to look at her.

"That's not going to happen," she says. She gives my arm a reassuring squeeze. "You want to know how I know?"

I raise my eyes gradually until they lock with hers.

"Because you're going to train. They're going to teach you that discipline," she says softly.

I click my tongue and shake my head at her. "I don't need to learn how to fight—"

"Not to learn to fight. To learn your triggers and how to control yourself in the ring."

"So, basically anger management for fighters? Isn't that kind of an oxymoron?" I chuckle.

Her lips curl at the corners before she quickly swallows it down. "It's not an oxymoron, you bozo." She lightly nudges my arm playfully. "At least try it, and if it's not for you, then you can stop. I'll be there every step of the way."

I don't answer her right away. You'd think I'd jump at an offer like this, but this had to have cost her an arm and a leg. There's no way I could ever repay her, not only for this gift, but for everything she's given me. So, I do what I do best and shake my head.

"I can't, Cass. I'm sorry," I say before turning away to leave.

"Wait!" she calls out frantically. "At least just think about it... Please."

That sounds easy, except there's nothing to think about. I'm not letting her spend this much money on someone like me. I don't need pity, and I don't need yet another thing dragging down my conscience.

"Why don't you spend the night for old times' sake? We have a lot of catching up to do," she asks nervously. "Plus, it'll give you some time to think about it."

"Cass—"

"Okay, maybe not like old times. You can take the couch this time," she chuckles softly.

Well, that would be an upgrade from the floor. Since my siblings aren't home today and are both at their friends house, there really is no reason for me to go home. It's just more about if I can personally handle being in Cassie's bubble longer than normal. We haven't had to have a "sleep over" since we were nineteen years old. We're both twenty-six now, and a lot of things have changed.

I let out an exasperated sigh before I turn around and face her. It's hard to tell her no with the way her big, brown eyes stare into mine. So, I do what any man would do in my situation.

"Okay," I say. "But can we catch up in the morning? I've had... a long day and I'm just exhausted right now, Cass."

Her eyes light up before she claps eagerly. Literally claps her hands together like she won the lottery when all I agreed to was to occupy her couch for a night. Maybe this will be like back in the day. Except this time, I'll be here because I want to and not because I have no other choice.