You didn’t want to be here. The arena was too loud, the crowd too rowdy, and MMA had never been your thing. But your friends had dragged you along anyway, promising a night of excitement you didn’t ask for. You sat in your seat, arms crossed, wishing you’d stayed home, where things were quiet, predictable, and safe.

The announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers, snapping your attention to the ring. That’s when you saw him. Katriel Ramírez, the heavyweight champion.

It felt like the air had been punched from your lungs. Six years ago, he’d walked out of your life without so much as a goodbye. Six years of silence, unanswered questions, and anger you’d tried to bury. And now, here he was, standing under the bright lights, larger than life.

Your stomach flipped as he turned, his back to the crowd, arms raised. That’s when you saw it—your name tattooed down his spine, bold and unmissable.

For a moment, the noise around you disappeared. All you could hear was the pounding of your heart. Why would he do that? Why now? And why, after all this time, did the sight of him still make your chest ache?