Page 79 of Glorious Ruin
Our evening consisted of nothing more than hanging out and watching TV. I sat cross-legged next to him, tracing the lines of his muscles with a lazy finger. It felt like the right time.
“Si?” I started casually, keeping my voice soft. “How much longer do you see yourself doing this? Wrestling, I mean.”
Silas blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow, his brow furrowing slightly. “I don’t know. Probably until I physically can’t anymore. Why?”
I kept my hand moving rhythmically over his arm, trying to keep the tension I felt over this conversation at bay. “I just… I’ve been talking to Jim lately, and you know, we’re already in our thirties. Our bump cards are getting full, baby. Both of our careers are already Hall of Fame worthy. We’ve made our marks, won the gold, and main-evented. I just feel like…maybe…maybe there’s more we can do outside of a ring.”
Silas’s posture stiffened. It felt as though a wrecking ball had been swung through the room. The relaxation that was splayed across Si’s face five minutes ago had vanished, replaced by a defensive guard.
“I won’t stop, Cal,” he said with a hard unyielding edge to his tone. “That’s not in the cards for me. I did it once before, and it nearlykilledme. I plan on doing this until the wheels fall off.”
I sighed, pulling my hand back. “But that’s exactly what I’m talking about, Si. I don’twantthe wheels to fall off. Not for you and not for myself, either. I’ve been thinking that maybe my time in the ring is nearing its end. I don’t want to be forty-five with a fused back, having to pop pills just to walk to the bathroom, still fighting insane matches I have absolutely no business being in.”
The sheets pooled around Si’s waist as he sat up fully. His eyes flashed with a sudden, deeply-wounded betrayal.
“So, what? You’re just going to quit?” he fumed. “You’re just going to walk away?”
“I’m not quitting, just…evolving,” I argued, trying to keep the heat out of my tone. “I want a quieter life than this, Silas. I just want to be home.”
“All I know is wrestling!” Silas snapped back, each word causing his voice to rise. “The thought of some quiet life reminds me of the seven years I was trappedin that house in North Carolina. A quiet life is basically isolation. It means being alone and-and-anduseless.”
“You weren’t alone because it was quiet. It’s because you were hiding.” My own frustration sparked to life. “It’s different now. We have a lifewitheach other, and Jim offered me a spot in production. I’d still be involved, just behind the curtain. A part of the business in a way where I wouldn’t be destroying my body every night.”
Silas scoffed with a bitter, harsh sound that hit like a slap to the face.
Silas crossed his arms over his chest. “Jim offered you a spot?” he mocked. “So, you’re considering joiningtheirside now? The exact people we’re fighting against? A part of that fucked corporate machine? You want to be one of those used-to-be main event legends who now play God with the people on the active roster for fun?”
“That’s not what I’d be doing and you know it.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Cal. I have no doubt if you make this move, those old pricks will be even worse to you while you’re in a suit than they already have been. They will chew you up and spit you out.”
I couldn’t do anything but stare at him for a moment, my heart hammering in my chest. His words stung. They sliced through the gentle aftercare vibe and left a jagged bleeding wound behind.
“It isn’t your call to make. ” My words came out cold.. “Just like it isn’t my call if you want to keep wrestling until you have a massive heart attack in the fucking ring because you’re too stubborn and afraid to walk away.”
My aim was true, The words hit, and Silas flinched. His jaw locked as tears collected along his lash line.
“Fine, then,” he clipped out.
“Good.”
Without another word, I turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. On the far edge of the king-sized mattress, I curled myself into a tight ball, facing the wall and pulled the duvet up to my chin. This was our firstrealargument. Not a scripted promo, or a misunderstanding, but a terrifying clash of our deepest fears.
I heard when Silas got out of bed. The floorboards creaked as he walked across the room, settling himself on the hotel couch. The television flickered to life, and a late-night sports broadcast filled the silence. I lay there, staring at the textured wallpaper, and tried my absolute best to not show how upset I was. But a hot sting burned my eyelids, and each new crack in my heart hit with the force of a semi-truck.
The sports broadcast continued to drone on, its monotone recap nearly putting me to sleep. Twenty, maybe thirty minutes passed when the television clicked off.
I held my breath as I heard him pad across the carpet until the mattress dipped heavily behind me. A second later, Silas’s large, warm arm wrapped securely around my waist. He pulled me toward him, shifting my position on the bed until my back was pressed flush against his broad chest.
“I know you’re not asleep,” he murmured into the dark.
I sniffled quietly, refusing to turn around. “And how do you know that?”
Silas pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the back of my neck, right below the black ink of his name. “Because, your breathing is different. Your body moves differently while you sleep, and you always sleep with your mouth open just a little bit.”
I couldn’t help it. A small, reluctant smirk tugged at my lips. The sheer, intimate knowledge he had of my habits dismantled my anger completely, which had me rolling over in his arms.
Silas’s hand gently cupped my face. He leaned in and gave me a soft, apologetic, and deeply reverent kiss.
