Page 25 of The Weight Of It All

I didn’t reply to that either but added a soul full of guilt to my self-pity and misery, and with a heavy, heavy heart, I rolled over. Buried in my blankets, I fell asleep.

There’s something to be said about falling asleep at five o’clock in the afternoon, because I was awake at three in the morning and had nothing but guilt and low self-esteem to keep me company.

I felt awful for leaving Reed like that.

It didn’t change my place in his world, but I still felt bad.

I wondered if he celebrated with his trainer friends last night, and then I had to wonder how fitness trainers “celebrated.” Did they sit around eating quinoa and drinking kale juice, talking about negative calories and telling fat people jokes?

I sighed. That wasn’t fair, and I knew it. Reed wasn’t like that. And from what I’d seen of the trainers, none of them were. It was purely my perspective, not of them, but of myself.

I glowered at the ceiling until my internal anger threw me out of bed.

By six o’clock, I’d cleaned my bathroom, mopped the floors, scrubbed the kitchen, and rearranged my Tupperware drawer, finding matching lids and neatly stacking containers that I promised myself to keep that way forever, but I knew in my heart of hearts it’d be a plastic catastrophe again by Tuesday.

I was at the gym a few minutes early with frustrated energy to burn and an apology for Reed at the ready.

He was going through some weights with the two women who were normally leaving as I got there.

When he saw me, he looked a little surprised, and it took him a few seconds to force a smile.

I knew then that I’d hurt him, and the weed of guilt in my chest sprouted a few more vines.

“Hi, Henry,” Emily said from the reception counter. “Reed’s running a bit late today.”

“Oh. ”

“He won’t be finished for another twenty minutes.”

“That’s fine. I can wait.”

She frowned. “Everything okay?”

“Sure.” I shrugged. I found myself staring at Reed, unable to make sense of what I was feeling. I wasn’t supposed to feel like this. I wasn’t supposed to be attracted to him, not to anyone so soon after Graham left me. “Just, you know. Not really.”

Emily shot Reed a look then tidied some papers on the desk that didn’t really need tidying. “I think someone else feels like that too. He’s not himself today.”

I swallowed hard and took a backward step to the doors. “Shit. I should probably go.”

Emily was around the counter in the blink of an eye and had her hand on my arm. “No, don’t leave.” She nodded toward the reception area. “Can we chat?”

“Um…”

I guessed it was a rhetorical question because she led me to the chairs and made me sit down. Apparently we were chatting whether I wanted to or not.

“I want to tell you something about him,” she said quietly.

“He’s a real, genuine person, Henry. He sees the good in everyone, like to the point where sometimes he’s a little na?ve.

I can say that because he’s my best friend, and I adore him.

He is literally the nicest person I know.

But he has trust issues for reasons that are not my place to say. ”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I see how you are together. I see how you look at him, and more importantly―well, more importantly to me―I see how he looks at you.”

My heart tripped over itself. “What?” I shook my head. That wasn’t true. “He’s like that with everyone.”

“No, he’s not. He’s professional with all the members here, but with you…” She gave me a half smile. “What you see is what you get with him, Henry. He can’t lie; he can’t hide his emotions. And he has two types of smiles: one he gives to everyone else and the one he gives to you.”

I tried to make sense of her words. “He just smiled at me all wrong.”

Emily sighed. “I think yesterday confused him. You left and cancelled your dinner date.”

“He called it a non-date.”

“Because he didn’t want to scare you off.”

My gaze shot to hers.

She smiled at that. “He said he mentioned dinner and you panicked, so he called it a non-date instead.”

I was so torn. Her words were perfect, but there was still that dark cloud hanging over me that I just couldn’t shake. “I’m sorry I left yesterday.” I swallowed hard, trying to think of how to phrase this right. “I didn’t want to, but it’s pretty obvious I don’t belong… here or with him.”

Emily recoiled, like I’d just offended her. Who knows, maybe I did. “Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth. He’s perfect and has the whole Thor/Chris Hemsworth thing going on, and I’m the Hulk.

Not in temperament of course, and I’ve never been exposed to radioactive material, well, not that I know of.

And I’m obviously not green. I just meant I’m huge and not particularly good looking…

” I let my words die away when I realised my mouth was in fifth gear and my brain was stuck in neutral.

Emily reached over and put her hand over mine and gave it a squeeze, just as Reed walked his clients to the door.

He said goodbye to them, with that professional smile Emily had mentioned, and he balked when he saw us sitting in the corner talking.

He seemed frozen, and he was, again, having some eyeball conversation with Emily.

She nodded for him to come over and stood up.

She held out her hand to me, which was odd, but I took it anyway.

When Reed was close enough, she took his hand and placed mine in his.

“You two need to talk. Henry, tell him why you left yesterday. And Reed, you know what you need to tell him.” She walked back to her reception counter. “You’re welcome.”

Reed’s hand was warm and strong, and just the touch of it eased the ache in my chest a little. “Henry,” he whispered.

I looked up at him. God, he took my breath away. “Hey.”

“I didn’t think you’d show.”

“I’m sorry I left yesterday.”

He looked over his shoulder, and Emily was now over by the treadmills with other customers, probably giving us some privacy.

Still holding my hand, Reed led me into the office where the scales and charts were.

He closed the door behind us and let out a deep breath.

He dropped my hand and wiped his nervously on his gym shorts.

“Why did you leave yesterday?” he asked.

Okay then, straight to the point . I put my hand to my forehead. “I’m not very good at this.”

“What did you tell Em just now?”

“That I left because I realised I don’t belong here.” My heart was hammering, but I somehow swallowed down my fear. “Because I don’t belong with you.”

He did a double take. “What?”

The bubble of laughter that escaped didn’t exactly sound sane.

“I know, crazy right? That I would even think that I possibly could belong with you. I don’t know why I did.

Well, actually, that’s not true. I can tell you exactly.

Because the attention was nice. Because the conversations and the texting was the closest thing to a relationship I’d had for years.

Because it made me realise that what I had with Graham had died years ago, and you made me feel special.

You made me feel wanted and fun, and that was something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

” I took a deep breath. “And I left because I really fucking stupidly thought I had a chance with you, until I saw you yesterday. Doing your trainer’s challenge and being all superhuman and with all those fit and beautiful people, because I’m not like them.

I’m a fucking blimp compared to them, and it was never more apparent than it was yesterday.

You know, the Sesame Street thing where it shows four things and they all sing ‘one of these things is not like the others’? Well, Reed, I am that one thing.”

Reed was still staring at me, half horrified, half amused.

I shrugged, defeated. God, I felt like I’d just done a two-hour work out session.

“I would still like to continue with my program, if that’s okay.

But I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my personal trainer anymore.

I would miss our conversations and our recipe swaps, but I’m sure I’ll get over it. ”

“I don’t want you to get over it.”

“Oh, okay, thanks. I can suffer for all eternity if you’d prefer.”

He laughed, despite the tension between us. “No. I meant I don’t want you to get over it, because I don’t want it to stop. Our conversations and our recipe swaps, that is. And me being your personal trainer.”

“Oh. Okay, good.”

“But Henry?”

“Yes?”

“You do belong here. Just like any of the people who walk through those front doors.”

He seemed to be missing the entire point of my whole tirade where I’d just told him I wanted to be with him, yet somehow ending with a song from my childhood. God, I hated my brain sometimes. “Was the Sesame Street song too much?”

“No. It was good. Perfect, actually.”

“Perfect might be a strong word…”

“Henry, why don’t you think you belong with me? ”

“Oh.” I blinked and stammered, “Um, well, God, it’s just, um…”

“Do we not get on well?”

“We do.”

“Do we not talk for hours and enjoy each other’s company?”

“We do. Well, I do. Enjoy your company that is.”

“I enjoy yours too.” He waited and waited for me to answer his original question.

“I don’t belong with you because you need to be with someone who looks like Seth.”

“Like Seth?”

“Well, yeah.”

“He’s a nice guy, Henry. But he’s straight and married with two kids.”

“Oh.”

“Do you think I need to be with someone because of how they look?”

“No!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Because I’ve seen those movies where the hot jock acts all interested in the overweight nerdy person as a joke or a dare, and quite frankly, they’re not funny.”

He recoiled like my words physically hurt him. He took a step back then went from shocked to a little peeved. “Have I ever treated you any different?” He raised his eyebrows and folded his arms. “Have I ever once made you feel any less of a person?”