My Abusive Ex Threatened Every Man Who Looked At Me. Until I Started Dating MMA Fighter

I couldn’t speak. I just nodded and held out my hand.

He put the ring on my finger and we both started crying. They were these huge, embarrassing, happy tears.

The next night he won his fight and dedicated the victory to his fiancée. That was two months ago.

We’re planning the wedding now. It will be something small, just close friends and family.

Jessica is going to be my maid of honor. Cameron’s brothers are flying in from Minnesota.

Wedding planning has been interesting. Cameron wants to be involved in everything, which is sweet but also kind of hilarious.

This giant fighter is sitting with me at a bakery trying different types of cake. He is seriously discussing the merits of buttercream versus fondant.

“I want lemon,”

he said during our tasting.

“But with the raspberry filling.”

“Ooh,”

I said, surprised. The baker smiled.

“You two are meant for each other.”

We decided on an outdoor wedding, small and intimate with just 40 people. Cameron’s gym is letting us use their outdoor training area.

That sounds weird, but they’ve got this beautiful space with string lights and a view of the hills.

“It’s where we became who we are,”

Cameron said.

“Seems fitting.”

Last week, I got another Facebook message, this time from a guy named Tyler.

“I heard you know Derek Morrison,”

the message said.

“I’m a private investigator. I’ve been hired by his current girlfriend to look into some threatening behavior. Would you be willing to give a statement?”

Apparently, Derek had moved on to another victim, a woman named Rachel. Rachel was smarter than the rest of us; she’d hired a PI before things got too bad.

The PI was building a case for a restraining order that might actually stick. I gave my statement.

So did Amber. Then the PI contacted me again.

“We found five other women,”

he said.

“All with similar stories. We’re building a pattern of behavior case. Would you be willing to testify if it goes to court?”

I looked at Cameron. He was making dinner, moving around our kitchen like he’d always been there.

Our kitchen, our home, our life.

“Yes,”

I told the PI.

“I’ll testify.”

Three weeks later, I got a call from the PI.

“Derek’s been served with a restraining order and the district attorney is considering charges for stalking and harassment. It’s looking good.”

I called Amber to tell her the news. She started crying on the phone.

“It’s really over. It’s really over.”

That night Cameron and I celebrated. We didn’t have champagne or a fancy dinner, just sitting on our couch watching a movie and being normal.

“You did it,”

Cameron said during a commercial break.

“You stopped him.”

“We did it. All of us.”

“Every woman who came forward. You know what the best part is?”

Cameron asked.

“Derek has to live with the fact that he lost. Not to me, not to some guy, but to all of you. You took your power back.”

He was right. The preliminary hearing was set for two months later, right after our wedding.

The prosecutor called me to go over my testimony. She was a woman in her 40s named Victoria and she’d been prosecuting domestic violence cases for 15 years.

“I’ve seen a lot of cases like this,”

Victoria told me.

“But I’ve rarely seen this many victims willing to come forward.”

“You should be proud.”

“I’m just tired of being scared,”

I said.

“You won’t have to be scared anymore.”

“Not after this.”

The wedding planning continued. Cameron’s mom flew in early to help.

She was exactly what I’d expected: warm, funny, and completely in love with her son. She took one look at me and pulled me into a hug.

“Thank you for loving my boy,”

she said.

“He’s been through a lot. Lost his dad when he was 17. Fighting helped him process that anger, but you, you made him happy. Really happy.”

I hadn’t known about Cameron’s dad. He’d mentioned his family but not that.

That night, I asked him about it.

“Car accident,”

Cameron said quietly.

“Drunk driver. My dad was coming home from work. Gone in an instant.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I don’t talk about it much, but it’s part of why I fight. My dad always told me to stand up for people who couldn’t stand up for themselves. To use my size for good.”

“Fighting lets me do that. And so do you.”

“Me?”

I asked.

“Yeah. Standing up to Derek for you felt like honoring my dad. Like I was finally big enough, strong enough to protect someone the way I couldn’t protect him.”

We both cried that night. Two broken people who’d found each other and somehow made something whole.

Yesterday I was at Target, the same Target where this all started three years ago. I was in the cleaning supplies aisle and a guy around my age smiled at me.

I smiled back and nothing bad happened. No threats, no fear, no Derek.

It was just a normal moment, a smile between strangers, the kind of thing that happens every day for normal people. I bought my stuff and left.

In the parking lot, I sat in my car for a minute and just breathed. I really breathed free air, safe air.

Then I drove home to the house I share with Cameron. It is the house where I’m allowed to exist without fear.

It is where I can be myself, where I can smile at strangers and have male friends and live my life without constantly looking over my shoulder. Tonight Cameron has a fight.

It’s nothing huge, just a local event, but I’ll be there in the front row. I will be wearing his shirt and screaming my lungs out because that’s what you do when you love someone.

You show up, you support them, and you stand beside them. And if anyone ever tries to threaten me again, tries to make me small, tries to make me afraid, well, they’ll have to get through Cameron first.

Not because I need him to protect me, but because he chooses to stand beside me. Because we choose each other every single day.

The wedding is next week. We decided on a Saturday evening ceremony right at sunset.

Jessica has been helping me with everything. She found my dress, a simple white gown that makes me feel beautiful without trying too hard.

“You’re glowing,”

she said when I tried it on.

“I’ve never seen you this happy.”

She was right. I am happy, really genuinely happy.

Cameron hasn’t seen the dress yet. He’s being traditional about it, which made me laugh.

“You literally get punched in the face for a living, but you’re superstitious about seeing my dress?”

“Some things you don’t mess with,”

he said seriously. His brothers arrived yesterday, Jake and Ryan.

Both are younger than Cameron but still huge. They treat me like I’m already family, teasing Cameron mercilessly about going soft.

“He cried during a commercial yesterday,”

Jake told me.

“A commercial for insurance. It was about a dad teaching his daughter to ride a bike.”

“It was emotional,”