Three stressful days had passed, but no one showed up.

Perhaps they backed down. Maybe it was all just a terrible nightmare, Max thought to himself as he slipped on his boxing shorts.

He'd been restless for three days and couldn't escape the anxiousness, no matter how hard he trained or punched those ridiculous punching bags. His mind kept racing, making him irritated and exhausted.

In the last three days, he has been continually arguing with his father. They seemed to fight more in those three days than they had in a lifetime.

As he put on his shoes and walked outside, he sighed. He was excited to get to the gym. He needed to release the tightness in his stomach, and he couldn't wait to ‘dance' with the punching bag once more. Maybe Connor will finally join him for an early workout, as they used to do.

Max jogged toward the gym, thinking about how nice it would be to have someone around again. How nice it would be to have Connor around. again. The old Connor, not that ghostly shadow that was left of him. He thought of the last time he went into the gym and saw him sitting on the far end of the weight room while his dad was blabbering about the importance of nutrition and Connor just nodding and smiling, looking at Max with a ‘come save me’ look on his face.

When he arrived, it relieved him to see no flashy cars on the street, no suited men with concealed guns watching the entrance.

“Dad! I’m here!” he said as he opened the door. “Did those fuckers come?”

“Good morning to you too, Max,” Aaron said, Connor sitting right next to him.

“Well? did they?” Max grumbled as he tossed his bag on the floor, took off his sweaty shirt.

Aaron sighed deeply. “No, they didn't. And stop cursing, boy.”

Max rolled his eyes. “I'm a man, dad. Not a boy.”

“Stop cursing, man.” Aaron grinned, and Connor chuckled.

Chuckled.

Max’s eyes widened at the sound. He cast a glance over at Connor, who shrugged, revealing a glimpse of the old ‘him’ in his eyes, his face, his posture. “They didn’t show up, so calm down,” he said.

Hope. There’s hope.

Max’s chest loosened. “Well, if you’ll exercise with me again, it won't matter whether they come,” he replied with a wink. “Look at us!” Max exclaimed, flexing his chest and arm muscles. “We’re men! We’re unstoppable!”

Aaron shook his head behind him as he saw his only son, a 27-year-old man, acting like a 5-year-old boy.

Max continued, throwing punches into the air, "I think I can take down that damn mobster with one punch." Max's smile broadened as Connor chuckled once more.

“Come on man, train with me!” he said, grabbing Connor’s shoulders, “For old time’s sake. I promise you’ll feel better afterward.”

“Maybe tomorrow.” Connor answered, “I still haven't finished all the paperwork Aaron wanted me to sort up in his office.”

“It will take you years to sort out his mess! it's like a war zone over there!” Max retorted.

“I'm literally right here, Max,” Aaron remarked as he walked over the water cooler, nervously watching the front door. “Go do your workout before I get mad.”

Max walked over to the ring after releasing Connor's shoulders. He jumped into position and threw some shadow punches into the air before positioning himself in front of the bag.

He could feel the blood rush to his head. His demeanor altered. He swung his fist. The metal chains rattled.

Max noticed a shudder running through Connor's back, but he didn't move. He remained seated.

Another punch, another rattle. Another shudder.

Max didn't know what was going through Connor’s mind. He couldn't figure out why the rattle of chains, which he’d heard in the gym for years, now, made him shiver. But at least he didn't un like last time. Small victories, he thought. His father warned him it would take time for Connor to find himself again. He told him it would take time until he'll have his friend back.

Suddenly, Connor pushed himself out of his chair and walked toward Aaron’s office.

He and his father have been at odds on how to treat Connor for the previous two months. Max was trying to persuade him to speak up. irritate him until he talks about what happened.  Aaron, on the other hand, thought they should leave him alone and let time heal him. Max eventually, after a lot of arguing, gave in and accepted his father's decision.

There were a lot of unanswered calls and texts throughout those months. At the beginning, he couldn't comprehend why Connor was pushing him away. Sometimes he was so frustrated by Connor's lack of communication that he felt as if a pit had suddenly opened up between them. But Max wasn't going to give up. He did exactly what he does best. He pushed and fought until the pit was slowly closing. But it was slowly closing. Too slow. And he was sick of being alone. He’d had enough of feeling isolated, and patience wasn't one of his strong suits.

Today, however, appears to be a good day. So he continued to strike, releasing the frustrations that had been weighing on his mind. His muscles ache from a desire to be free. He unleasehd one punch to get rid oh his lonliness, his anger, his frustration. One punch for the gangsters, one punch for the girl who dumped him, one punch for the image of his father's nervous face, one punch for the boxing match he had lost, one punch for his shattered friend, and one punch for Kyle. His entire concentration was on the single punching bag in front of him. Punch after punch after punch.

He was so immersed in his body's empty motion, the mechanical way it moved, that he didn't even notice the front door creak open.