Free False Illusions (False #1) by A. Cramton Page B

put the phone to my ear.
    “Madison, please call me back. I can explain everything.” His voice soft. “Please, baby doll.”
    I take a breath as the next one plays, but I chicken out and hang up. Even though he didn’t say much in the first one it was enough to bring the hurt back.
    I didn’t want to miss him, I didn’t want to love him, but I couldn’t help it, and that’s what hurt the most. We were temporary, I don’t know where the lines blurred, I don’t know exactly when I fell, but I knew I did and it hurts to fucking bad.
     

 

    Restless Heart Syndrome- Green Day
    It’s been days since I’ve last seen Madison run out of the party teary eyed. It’s been hell, every time I call her it just goes to her voicemail. I was miserable and having withdrawals from not being near her. I miss her so much.
    My days are unbearable and training sucks when I don’t have her to go to at night. I refuse to let the maids change my sheets because they still smell like her. I’m pathetic, I know. I don’t give a fuck.
    I just need her back. I need to explain, I know she won’t forgive me, but I need to at least try.
    I finally got the balls to knock on Dominic’s door. If anyone could get me to Madison it was her best friend. Only to have her try to rip my head off. Right off the bat she refused to help me. That was yesterday.
    Now here I am running on the treadmill with Rascal Flatt’s What hurts the most , playing on repeat. I’m not usually the one for country, but this song is the truth and I refused to cry so I had to make this song cry for me. See what I did there?
    The only bad side effect to having this song on repeat was the memories that came with it. The way she would do a stupid little dance when talking about new books that came out. How she would stick her finger in my nose while I was sleeping, it drove me crazy, now I would do anything to do have her do it again. Fuck, even her lame jokes. I want it all back. I just want her back.
    Slowing down to a slow jog I see Chris come through the gym holding a bag of sandwiches. I haven’t been eating much lately and I’m starving.
    Jumping off the treadmill I meet him at the small table in the middle.
    Chris sets a large wrapped sandwich and bottle of water in front of me.
    “Bro, you are still training. You have to eat.”
    I shrug and unwrap my sandwich taking a big bite. Fuck it’s Italian.
    Madison loves anything Italian. I want to put it down and push it away, but Chris is watching me from the other side of the table so I swallow hard take another bite and stare at the ground.
    “So, you want to talk about it?” Chris asks causally.
    I shoot him a look. “Do you want me to grab some nail polish and face masks? I’m sure we can even have a sleepover,” I deadpan.
    He shakes his, “Seriously. You need to talk about it.”
    “What’s there to talk about?” I shrug. “I fucked up, she found out and now she won’t talk to me. It was bound to end anyway.”
    “Bullshit, you fuckin fell in love with her,” he calls me out.
    I toss my wrapper in the nearby trashcan. “Doesn’t matter anymore. She’s gone and I have a fight to train for.”
    “I would believe that if you were actually training, and not bullshitting on the treadmill like you’re training for a marathon and not the heavyweight belt.”
    Now I’m glaring at him. I don’t need to talk about how I feel, it’s not going to make everything better, and it damn sure won’t bring Madison back.
    “Grab your helmet and gloves. Meet me in the ring in five.” I push my chair back with a loud screech. I need to release some steam and Chris doesn’t realize he just volunteered himself.
    Five minutes later I’m suited up and standing across from Chris in the ring. He thinks I’m moping around and not training? Well now he has me training.
    The words. “Go” barely leave his mouth when my arms start swinging, my left hook sending him to the ground.
    “Get your ass up.” I smirk.