Fighter

by Tijan

He tossed something in my lap, and I looked down to see a small box wrapped in newspaper with a red ribbon around it. “What’s this?” He moved to sit in the other leather chair. “Something I left here last summer.” Last summer? “You mean…” The night I ended things with him. That night? He burst into an abrupt laugh. “Yep. That night. It was an early birthday present, but everything went to shit, and I forgot it. But now, with all you’re doing to help me and in the Christmas spirit…” He lifted a shoulder in a shrug, but looked out toward the lake. “Merry Christmas, Doily.” Shock rendered me speechless for a moment. He’d remembered my birthday. Two months ahead, too. “I’m sorry, Jax.” He waved me off. “Trust me, it’s fine. I was an ass most of the time, and I was being one that night too. When you tossed me, that might’ve been the best thing that could’ve happened. Losing you was a wake-up call. You ripped my heart out, but thank you for that. I mean it.” Oh god. I had no idea what to say. Then I felt tears threatening to spill, and I shook my head. That’d be more mortifying than anything else. I fanned myself, thinking funny thoughts so I wouldn’t cry. Dylan sacking Haley. Dylan getting sacked in the junk. That helped a little. When I knew the tears had stalled, I started. “Jax, that night—” He held up a hand. “You were right. I was drunk, getting into fights all the time. And that night, I had no right to do what I did.” Oh boy. This conversation had been avoided for a reas...