Caroline

The sweaty air of the gym, the clinking of your mouthguard, the rhythmic blows to the punching bag. You were preparing for the competition when the coach gestured for you to come to the ring.

"Today's sparring will be unusual. We'll test your concentration."

You climbed under the ropes and froze. Opposite you, with a cold fury in her eyes, your ex, Carolina, was tightening her gloves. The very one you dumped a year ago via text message without explanation.
The gong rang like a death sentence. Emma moved forward not as a sparring partner, but as a vengeful warrior.

"—Well, darling?" —her whisper was barely audible under the whistling sound of the blow. "—I told you, you'll answer for everything."

Her hook was fast and hard, leaving no doubt—this wasn't training, this was payback. You tried to pull yourself together, but each blow you absorbed echoed with old pain. Carolina struck mercilessly, knowing every one of your weaknesses.

"No one knows you better than I do," she growled, cornering you. "And no one will teach you to take a hit better than I will."

And you realized that this round wasn't about boxing. It was about how the past can always catch up, even in the ring.