Letters to The Fighter ✔

15. Cookies

Dear Peter,

Zoya's here today. She's staying for the weekend because she's got an interview with some huge fashion company nearby. Can you imagine how much fun it would be if she got to live near me?

I don't like living alone anymore.

It was nice at first. I had my own little haven all to myself. I could do what I want when I wanted to. But you know that I was never like you. Whereas you like to be alone, I feed off the happiness of others. I need to be with people to feel alive.

Zoya's pretending to read a book from on the couch across from me, but I can tell that she's watching me write this. She knows about the letters.

Actually, she was the one who suggested I write them.

Oh, and sorry about the coffee stain on the last letter. A lot has changed, but I'm still kinda clumsy.

***

Her house was cute. It was a small townhouse with a tiny garden along the front porch. I could smell freshly baked cookies from where I stood in front of the door, making it seem more like a home than anything else.

I took a deep breath and brought up my fist, knocking twice on the door.

"Be right there!"

The words were muffled, followed by footsteps and the sound of the door being unlocked.

In front of me stood Daisy. Her hair was messy in a low bun, stray strands falling in front of her face. There was flour on her forehead and cheek, and her apron was covered in it along with what seemed to be fudge. She looked just as sweet as she was.

"Lucy, right?" She asked, smiling widely, "Please come in."

I stepped inside the house, nerves making my fingers fidget constantly. She offered me a seat on the couch in the small living room and later appeared with a cup of tea and a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

"Just in time for the cookies," she laughed, and took a seat across from me.

I had talked to Charlie to see if I could meet with her. If I wanted to know more about you, it was a good idea to talk to the person you cared for most. Charlie explained to Daisy the project that I was working on and asked permission to set up a meeting.

"Oh, before you say anything, I want to thank you for the wedding gift. It was really sweet, seeing as I don't even know you."

I had brought Daisy matching handmade bracelets for both her and her husband. I remembered not being able to give it to her personally because I had left so abruptly.

"Of course." I smiled, letting the hot cup of tea warm my hands. "I was actually wondering if you could help me learn some more about Peter."

Daisy nodded, but not very eagerly.

"Can I ask you something first?" She set down her cup of tea and leaned forward in her seat.

I nodded.

"What do you want from him? You seem like a very sweet girl, but if you're planning on hurting him, then you can stop right now."

She wasn't upset. She was worried; I could see it all over her face. She only cared for you, and she was watching out for you. The stone-like look of her features made it evident that you two really were related, but it didn't suit her.

I shifted uneasily, not too fond of the tension in the room.

"I'm..," it took me a few seconds to conjure the right words, "I'm not going to hurt him, I promise."

Lies.

"I just want to help him."

Her eyes softened and she nodded in understanding. I was relieved to see her relax back into her seat.

"How?"

I figured that the best way to do this was to tell her the truth.

"I want to do a university project on him, his life, his career. That's what it started off as, but now, I want to be his friend."

She looked shocked, and her lips curved upwards into a smile. I could've sworn that maybe her eyes were welling up.

"He could use a friend," she nodded, her expression sullen.

"Can I ask you something? Can you tell me about your father?"

She looked uncomfortable and bit her lower lip in thought for a few seconds before nodding.

"He died six years ago. He was a legendary boxer, but not as great of a father. He always pushed Peter to carry on his legacy, but Peter never wanted to. He didn't want this life for himself," her voice began to waver and she took a deep breath, "After he died, he didn't leave us with any money. We only had his boxing equipment and not much else. Peter and I ... we were on our own. And he didn't have a choice. He wanted to support us, and the only way he knew at the time was boxing. So he trained and trained and with Charlie's help, he won his first match. And kept winning."

I kept nodding, trying to process all of it. I regretted what I'd said to you earlier, about wanting to hurt people for enjoyment. I regretted all of it. I had judged you far too soon, without knowing your past.

"Why does he still do it?"

She sighed, "I have a theory. He was in love, you know? But I'm afraid that's not my story to tell."

I sipped the tea, its warmth soothing.

Daisy was right. That wasn't her story to tell. I just had to figure out what I was going to do with this information, and how I was going to prove to you that I wasn't going to hurt you. Not the way that someone had before I came along.

***

Dedicated to @shizunj for making the beautiful cover. Thank you love!