CHAPTER 830: CHAPTER 830: BACK HOME

Damon stepped through the curtain into the backstage hallway, the roar of the arena muffling behind the heavy doors.

His belt was slung over one shoulder, his gloves still taped, sweat glistening on his skin as staff and teammates lined the path, nodding and clapping him on the back.

At the far end, Svetlana stood waiting, Ava in her arms. The little girl’s eyes lit up as soon as she spotted him, her tiny hands reaching out.

Damon’s chest eased as he closed the distance. He wrapped his free arm around Svetlana, pulling her close for a tight hug and kissing her softly on the cheek, the words slipping low against her ear.

"I’m back home."

Svetlana smiled warmly, resting her forehead against his. "Welcome back, champ."

Ava squealed, squirming until Damon set the belt down carefully and took her into his arms. She wrapped around his neck, giggling as she patted at his sweat-soaked hair.

Damon laughed under his breath, the tension of the fight melting away in their embrace.

For the first time all night, he wasn’t the champion, the undefeated fighter, or the star of the show. He was just Dad, just Damon.

Ronny walked up with his team trailing behind, still buzzing from his own victory earlier in the night. His grin was wide, his face flushed with the afterglow of the spotlight.

"Hey, coach," Ronny said, voice full of energy.

Damon turned, belt still slung over his shoulder, Ava resting her head against him with her thumb in her mouth.

He gently tugged her hand down, kissed her cheek, and shifted her higher in his arms before giving Ronny a nod.

"Ronny," Damon said, a small grin tugging at his lips.

Ronny shook his head in disbelief. "Amazing match out there, man. You had him quitting in the last minute. That’s not something you see every day."

Damon chuckled, bouncing Ava lightly on his hip. "I could say the same about you. You put on the match tonight. Welcome to the UFA."

Ronny’s grin widened at the words, the respect from his coach hitting harder than the win itself.

He extended his hand, and Damon shifted Ava just enough to shake it, firm and steady.

They lingered with Ronny and his team for a few minutes, trading words and smiles before parting ways down different halls.

Damon handed Ava gently back to Svetlana for a moment so he could peel off his gloves, already thinking ahead to the press conference.

He dressed down, slipping into clean clothes, the belt now resting inside its case, then rejoined his family.

Hand in hand with Svetlana, they walked together down the quiet corridor, the noise of the arena faint in the distance.

She leaned into him, her head brushing his shoulder, her voice soft but teasing. "So... you’re the greatest of all time now."

Damon flushed, a rare crack in his usual composure. From anyone else, it was just words.

But hearing Svetlana say it made it feel different, like it meant more, like it was a kind of acknowledgment only she could give.

He nudged her gently with his elbow, a grin pulling at his lips. "Sure," he said, his voice carrying a little too much joy, too much pride.

Svetlana chuckled at the way he said it, her laughter light and genuine, making Damon smile even wider.

Svetlana squeezed his hand as they walked, her smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "You’ve achieved a high status, Damon. Everyone loves you. You’re actually the first MMA athlete to be this famous. You’re like the Messi and Ronaldo of MMA."

Damon shook his head, the grin on his face stretching so wide it almost hurt. "Okay, okay, Lana... I don’t think I can smile any wider."

She laughed softly, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway, lightening the air even more than his victory had.

Ava stirred in her arms, blinking sleepily, but even she smiled faintly at the sound of her mother’s laugh.

Damon looked at the two of them, warmth flooding him in a way no crowd could ever match.

Svetlana’s words lingered in the quiet room, the hum of the arena outside fading into nothing.

Damon stood in front of her, belt case sitting on the bench, his gloves off, his hands resting on his knees for a moment before he straightened.

Her eyes stayed on him, steady but soft. "Okay, basically what I’m asking you is... are you done?"

The words sank deep. Damon didn’t answer right away. He knew exactly what she meant. Was he done with the cage? With the grind, the camps, the nights of bruises and the mornings of aching bones?

He breathed out slow, his chest heavy. "Do you want me to stop?"

Svetlana shook her head gently. "You know I can’t make that decision for you. It’s for you. I just wanna know... are you satisfied with everything?"

Damon looked at her, then at Ava curled sleepily against her mother’s shoulder, thumb still in her mouth. Then his eyes drifted lower, to her stomach.

"I’m satisfied with you. With her. With him," he said, pointing softly toward her belly. His voice carried warmth, but also the weight of truth. "I’m satisfied with our life."

Svetlana tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly. "What about your career?"

Damon paused. His lips pressed together, and for a long moment, he didn’t speak. Then finally, he admitted, "I... no."

Her expression didn’t change; it was like she had expected that answer long before he said it.

She stepped closer, shifting Ava so one hand could touch his chest. "But is there more to accomplish? You told me you started fighting because you wanted to escape the struggle, make sure you and your mom never suffered again. And you succeeded. Then you said you kept fighting because you loved it... and to become the best. And you’ve done all of that."

Her voice softened, but her eyes held firm. "I just don’t want you to fight aimlessly. I want to know where your head is at... what your goal is. What do you want to do now?"

Damon’s jaw flexed as he stood there, her words hitting harder than any punch he had taken that night.