THE UNBROKEN ROAD

The gym was quieter tonight. Fewer people, less noise. Just the rhythmic thuds of gloves against heavy bags, the occasional grunt of effort, and the low hum of the city outside.

Daniel stood in front of the ring, stretching his arms, feeling every sore muscle from the previous day. The pain was still there, but it no longer felt like an enemy. It felt like proof. Proof that he was still moving.

Harris walked up behind him, his usual knowing smirk in place. "You're still here."

Daniel glanced at him. "Didn't plan on quitting."

"Didn't say you would. Just saying most guys in your position don't last this long."

Daniel let out a breath. He knew what Harris meant. Most people who came to the gym looking to "fix themselves" lasted a week, maybe two. Then they'd disappear, swallowed back into whatever had brought them here in the first place.

But Daniel wasn't disappearing. Not this time.

"Get in," Harris said, nodding toward the ring.

Daniel climbed between the ropes. Jason was already inside, bouncing lightly on his toes, rolling his shoulders.

"Again?" Daniel asked with a smirk.

Jason grinned. "You're getting better. Figured I'd test you."

Harris clapped his hands. "Alright, we're changing it up today. Three rounds, but this time, you take control. I don't want to see you just dodging and reacting. I want you dictating the fight."

Daniel took a deep breath and nodded.

Jason raised his gloves. "Come on then, old man."

Taking Control

The bell rang, and Jason moved first, as always—light on his feet, throwing quick jabs to test Daniel's guard.

But this time, Daniel wasn't just waiting for the hits. He saw them coming before they landed.

He dodged left, but instead of just backing away, he stepped in. He threw a jab of his own, catching Jason's cheek. Not a full hit, but enough to surprise him.

Jason's grin widened. "Alright, there we go."

He came at Daniel harder now, throwing a quick combination. Daniel blocked most of it, but a hook clipped his ribs, sending a jolt of pain through him.

Instead of stepping back, he pushed forward.

He threw a right cross—Jason dodged, but Daniel followed up with a hook to the body. This time, it landed.

Jason grunted and stepped back.

Daniel felt it—the shift.

For the first time since stepping into the ring, he wasn't just surviving. He was fighting.

Breaking Old Habits

By the second round, Daniel was in it. He was reading Jason's movements, controlling the space, refusing to let himself get backed into a corner.

But then Jason did something unexpected.

He feinted left, then threw a hard right hook—one Daniel didn't see coming.

Pain exploded in his jaw, and his vision blurred for half a second. He staggered, his knees buckling.

For a brief, terrifying moment, he felt it again—that instinct to fall. To stay down.

Like he had a year ago. Like he had every day since.

But this time, something else pushed back.

Not this time.

Daniel gritted his teeth and steadied himself. His legs were still under him. His hands were still up. He wasn't done.

Jason nodded approvingly. "Thought I had you there."

Daniel smirked. "Not today."

And then he attacked.

Not wildly. Not desperate. But with purpose.

He threw a jab to set the distance, then slipped inside Jason's guard. A body shot. A hook. A quick jab to the temple.

Jason stumbled back, blinking in surprise.

For the first time, Daniel was the one pushing forward.

After the Fight

The third round came and went. By the time the bell rang, both of them were breathing hard, sweat dripping from their faces.

Jason pulled off his gloves and let out a laugh. "Damn, Mercer. You might actually be a fighter."

Daniel wiped his face with his wrist, his hands shaking from exhaustion. But beneath it all, there was something else.

A feeling he hadn't had in a long time.

Strength.

Harris climbed into the ring, looking between them. "Good. You're finally learning how to stop taking a beating."

Daniel smirked. "Took me long enough."

Harris folded his arms. "Now comes the harder part."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

Harris met his gaze. "Figuring out what you're fighting for."

The words hit harder than any punch.

Daniel felt his chest tighten. He had spent so long running, trying to survive, trying to keep from drowning in grief.

But now?

Now he wasn't just surviving. He was fighting.

And maybe it was time to figure out why.