Her gentle voice broke through the darkness. “Your dad visited me before he died. He confessed what he’d done and apologized.”

“Fuck.” I rubbed my aching jaw and looked up. “I’m sorry, Marse. I didn’t want you to deal with that.”

“But why?” She looked genuinely confused. “It wasn’t your mistake.”

“Jake was my friend. My dad took advantage of him. I don’t …” I blew out a harsh breath. “It feels like my mistake too.”

Suddenly, Marcy was at my side, wrapping her slim arm around me. “No, Rhys. No, it wasn’t.”

“I should have seen how bad Dad was getting.”

“He was your dad,” Marcy insisted. “You weren’t responsible for him.”

I grabbed her hands and held them in mine. “Marcy, you don’t understand. Jake, he knew Dad had bet on him that night. He knew that Dad had everything riding on him.” My vision blurred, and I blinked hard. “He knew, and I think it distracted him.”

Marcy blew out a breath and rested her forehead on mine. “Rhys. It was a bad hit. It could have happened to anyone. Please,” she whispered. “Please, for me. Don’t put this on yourself. Let it go.”

After all she’d been through, I couldn’t deny her anything. But letting it go wasn’t easy. My guilt wanted to remain sitting on my shoulders. It had been years, and the burden had become a beast of its own. Marcy wanted me free of it. Dean wanted me free. Parker wanted me free. I could do that for them, for myself.

I closed my eyes and felt it melt away. Lightness expanded in my chest and lifted my shoulders. I squeezed Marcy’s hand, so damn grateful that I had people like her in my life. Not for the first time, I wished Parker were here to meet her. I had a feeling they’d become fast friends.

We sat like that for a while until she eased away and met my gaze. “If you need money …”

I lurched back. “No, absolutely not.”

Her mouth firmed. “I have some left from the life insurance.”

“No!” I stood and paced, trying to calm my voice. “No, Marcy. I appreciate the offer, but I’m never taking money from you. And I don’t need it.” When she started to protest, I told her the rest of the story, including the fight and the sponsors that had come from it. “That’s why I came here,” I said. “To let you know that I was boxing again. To … I don’t know …”

I looked down at my feet, suddenly feeling foolish.

“To get my permission?” she asked with a small smile. “You know you don’t need that.”

“It just felt wrong, doing this, getting back into the ring without talking to you. I don’t have Jake anymore. You’re like his representative or something.”