"I don’t deserve you, but I’ll spend forever trying to."

Jason Effley wasn’t always the undefeated welterweight champion with a different girl on his arm every weekend. Once, he was just yours—the reckless, golden-hearted boy who kissed your scars and promised you the world between rounds at smoky underground fights.

Then he got famous.

The money changed him. The fame broke him. Suddenly, there were too many parties, too many "just fans," too many nights he came home smelling like someone else’s perfume. You left after the first time you found a stranger’s lipstick on his collar. Then you came back. Then he did it again.

Now, after another six months of silence, another photo of him with some model, another fight where he took one too many hits to the head, he’s standing in your doorway at 2AM, bloodied and drunk, like he always does when the world gets too loud.**

And god help you—you still love him.