Page 23 of The Weight Of It All

Reed laughed then leapt to his feet like a cat. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t human. I rolled over onto my back, and he held out his hand to me. I took it, revelling in the warm, calloused feel of it, and he pulled me to my feet.

“Are you still gonna come watch the trainer’s challenge tomorrow?” he asked, the invite for dinner afterwards seemingly forgotten.

“Yeah, of course,” I answered. “How long will it go for? I mean, what time is our non-date?”

He smiled. “I can be at your house at six o’clock?”

“Perfect.”

It was then we both realised he still had hold of my hand. “Oh,” he said, quickly dropping it and taking a step backwards. “Great workout today, Henry. You’ll do the Bay Run next weekend easy.”

“Or I’ll die trying.”

“You won’t die, I promise.”

I was totally going to die. “Just so you know, if our non-date will be my last supper, this lamb salad you’re making better be good.”

He chuckled warmly but looked over at his next client who was waiting for him. “I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I checked the time. Jeez, time seemed to fly when I was with him, and if I didn’t hurry, I would be late for work. “Crap. So should I.”

I collected my gym bag, and on my way out, Emily was behind the reception counter. She and Reed seemed to have some silent eye conversation, then she smirked at me. “Bye. Henry.”

“Are you doing the trainer’s challenge tomorrow?” I asked her .

“Yep. Gotta show these boys how it’s done.”

“I’ll see you here then.”

Her eyes lit up. “Are you coming to watch?”

“Yeah. Reed asked me to, so…”

Her grin was wide and warm. “Excellent. I’ll see you then.”

God, were fit and healthy people always so damn happy and cheerful? “Bye.”

I flew home, showered, and dressed for work.

My suit pants were loose now, and I had to cinch them with a belt.

I noticed the shirt button at my throat wasn’t tight, and I could even fit a finger or two underneath my collar.

My jacket slid on easily, and I could do my shoelaces up without having to reach over my stomach.

I jumped back in my car, feeling better―thinner―than I had in a long time. I knew traffic would be slow going into the city, and given I had about twenty minutes before I got to work, I waited for my phone to connect to Bluetooth and hit Anika’s number before I’d reached the end of my street.

“Henry,” she answered. “Let me guess: you’re stuck in traffic and the man in the car beside you is picking his nose.”

I snorted. “Not today. Well yes, I’m stuck in traffic but no one’s nose picking. I’m running a little late.”

She paused. “You sound happy. What happened?”

“Reed asked me out on a non-date.”

“Eeeeeeeee,” she squealed, making me laugh. “Wait. What’s a non-date?”

“Dinner at my place tomorrow, but it’s not technically a date.”

“Oh, it’s technically a date.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Tell me everything he said.”

I relayed the conversation, and I could tell she was smiling when she spoke. “Henry, I don’t want you to freak out. But it’s a date.”

“It’s just dinner. He specifically called it a non-date.”

“He called it a non-date because he didn’t want you to freak out, but he still wanted to have dinner with you. It’s a date, Henry.”

I was grinning. I couldn’t help it. “Do you think so?”

“I know!”

“He held my hand.”

“He what?”

“He helped me up off the floor and kept a hold of it for about ten seconds.”

She squealed again, and it sounded like she was bouncing in her seat.

I laughed at her. “Please tell me you’re not in your office.”

“Nope. Driving to North Sydney. Boring monthly meeting with Legal at nine thirty.” She sighed loudly. “Um Henry, what were you doing on the floor?”

“Dying.”

“Right.”

“I had a sex dream of him last night.”

Her laughter burst through the phone. “Was he good?”

“Of course.”

“And let me guess. Hung too, right?”

“Like a horse.”

It sounded like she was doing that weird jumpy-clap thing in her seat. “Oh, Henry, I do love you.”

“Love you too.”

“We’ll talk later. And I want all the details. All of them.”

I clicked off the call and made my way to the office. As much as I loved my job, as much as I enjoyed having newfound conversations with my fellow co-workers, I just wanted it all to be over.

I was excited for the weekend. I hadn’t looked forward to something like this in a long time.

Sure, I’d enjoyed weekends with Graham, but we rarely did anything together.

The lustre had been lacking in our relationship for a long time.

I could see that now. And it was strange that I no longer felt sad or hurt by Graham’s decision to end it.

I was hurt by his words, and I was hurt by the cruel way he thought me so undeserving of an adult conversation instead resorting to pointing out my weight and how I chose to live my life.

A simple “this isn’t working out” would’ve sufficed.

Then again, maybe if he’d been gentle with me, I’d have clung to hope that he’d come back.

Maybe he’d been deliberately harsh with me so I would know it was truly over.

Whatever his reasons, I was no longer sad. I was no longer devastated. I was no longer a hot, pining mess.

I was relieved.

I was me again, but not just the old me.

A new, better me. A healthier me. Mentally and physically, I was in a better place.

I still had a long way to go. I wasn’t denying that.

But just four weeks ago, I spent a Friday night scared to be alone.

I was a crying mess, eating my emotions with a side of cheesecake.

This Friday night, I was cooking healthy food while dancing around my kitchen to The Best of the Bee Gees .

I fell happily onto my sofa to watch Game of Thrones , wrote out my weekly menu plan and shopping list, had a delicious bubble bath, and went to bed with every intention of fantasising about Reed and the things he would do to me.

Sprawled from one corner of my bed to the other, sated and smiling, I slept like the dead.