Page 9 of The Weight Of It All

Five

My sullen mood followed me into the gym on Sunday morning. Reed was his usual bright and cheery self, grinning when he saw me. “Hey!”

“Hey,” I replied back.

He clearly picked up on my lack of lustre, and his brow furrowed for a second. His smile slid away. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, trying to smile. “Just feeling sorry for myself. Ignore me.”

He seemed a little unsure of what to say next, and I hated that I’d made him uncomfortable. “You sure?”

“Yep. What torture are you going to put me through today?”

“That depends. How are you feeling? Still sore?”

“I’m actually not too bad. I’m either getting better, or I’m just used to the pain.” To be honest, I did still hurt, but with my broken heart giving one last hurrah, it kind of paled in comparison.

I’m certain Reed saw right through me because he didn’t push me too hard. He had me do the usual treadmill and elliptical hell, then we did weights on the cable and pulley machine. If Reed wasn’t with me, standing beside me, he was watching me.

I knew I was pushing myself. But the harder I pushed, the better I felt. I could feel the stress leaving my mind, and the more I worked my muscles and made my lungs burn, the better I felt.

“Okay, that’ll do,” Reed said, effectively putting a stop to my low-pulley raises. “Or you will be sore tomorrow.”

I took a second to catch my breath, and he reset the machine. He handed me my towel. “Wanna talk about it?”

I wiped my face down and shook my head. “Sauron.”

“Ah.” Reed nodded knowingly. “Thought it might be.”

“You’d think after eight years together I might deserve a reply to a text message, but apparently not.”

“Oh.” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “Yes. You do deserve a reply text.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t going to talk about it,” I mumbled.

“But I only texted him to tell him he can come and pick his shit up. I don’t want it in my house anymore.

But no, not even a one-word reply. Maybe Anika was right.

Maybe I should torch the lot of it. Actually, if I haven’t heard from him by next Friday, that’s exactly what I’ll do. ”

“You’ll set it on fire?”

“Yep. Not inside the house, of course, but a ceremonial burning outside.”

Reed nodded thoughtfully. “Of course.”

I let out a sigh. “I guess I’m at the anger stage of the process. Denial didn’t last as long as I thought it would.”

He gave me a sad smile. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.”

“I’m sorry my friend Anika sent you a bunch of inappropriate questions. And they weren’t things I wanted to know, per se, just questions I didn’t have answers to when she asked.”

He was smiling genuinely now and went through the usual stretches with me. When we were quiet for a moment, he said, “Anika seems great.”

“She is.”

“Okay, pull your arm across your chest for me; feel it stretch the shoulder.” I did as he said, then he asked. “What’s the Anika story?”

Why did he want to know about Anika…? Oh.

Oh . I had to admit, after Anika and Sean ribbing me yesterday about Reed being interested in me―even though I wasn’t ready for that―had been flattering, and the confirmation that he wasn’t interested in me at all was a little disappointing.

“She’s been my best friend since college.

We studied microeconomics together and just clicked.

Though we tend to act like twelve year olds when we get together.

She’s actually the head of her accounts department for Myer.

Stylish, gorgeous. But she’s taken, sorry. Her boyfriend, Sean, is a great guy.”

Confusion flashed across his face before realisation kicked in. “Oh! Oh no,” he said with an embarrassed laugh. “No, I’m not interested. But thanks.”

Okay then. Hardly surprising, though. “I didn’t think you’d be single,” I admitted. “Guy like you…”

He let his arms fall down to his sides. “A guy like me?”

Shit, was he offended? “Oh, I just mean you’re hot, got a great body, fit as hell, super nice, you know. A guy like you.”

He laughed, more to himself than at me, and his ears tinged pink. “Um, thanks? But no, I’m single. I was seeing someone…”

“But now you’re not,” I finished for him. “So you know what breakups are like?”

He nodded slowly. “Oh yeah.”

I wasn’t going to ask, but then I thought, what the hell? “Was it your choice?”

“Yep. Didn’t make it any easier, though. ”

I frowned at that. “I’m pretty sure it’s harder being the one that gets told you’re past your use-by date.”

“I’m pretty sure finding your boyfriend getting a blowjob from a stranger in a bathroom is worse.”

I stared at him. Then I stared some more. Well, shit. Boyfriend? Well, I’ll be damned. He was right, though. At least Graham didn’t cheat on me. “Yep, you win.”

Reed let out a heavy sigh. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That was out of line.”

“No it wasn’t. It was perfectly fine. Apart from your ex being a cheating piece of shit. That’s not fine at all.”

Now he laughed. “It was six months ago. I’m over it. But yes, you’re right. He was a cheating piece of shit.”

“And a complete idiot to ruin a relationship with you,” I added.

His smile turned kinda shy. “Thanks.”

I stopped stretching my shoulder and shook out my arm. “I think I might’ve overdone it today. Just imagine how buff I’ll be if this anger phase lasts for a while.”

Reed laughed at that. “I bet you feel better though.”

I took a second to assess myself. Sure, my body hurt, but my mind was surprisingly clear. “I do.”

Reed clapped my shoulder. “Good.”

I gathered my water bottle and gym bag and groaned when I stood upright. “My plan for the rest of the day is to do some menu planning for the week, maybe some groceries, then to plant my arse in front of the television and catch up on Game of Thrones .”

Reed sighed. “Sounds perfect. I’m doing much the same. Though there’s a farmers market in the park at Drummoyne today. I was gonna head over and see what’s on offer.”

“Oh, I’ve seen that sometimes when I’ve driven past but never called in.”

“First Sunday of every month,” Reed said. “They have some great stuff. Fresh, locally grown, some organic. They have some gourmet sauces you might like. All homemade.”

“Sounds good,” I agreed. “I was going to try a new salmon recipe. And I found a grilled pork fillet with apple and chili recipe. It looked good too.”

He brightened. “Oh my God, I made this calamari with lime and chili the other night. It was so good.”

“You’ll have to give me the recipe. I love trying new things.”

“Me too! I’ll bring it in for you. Or I can text it to you.”

“Sounds good.” Then I thought of something. I’d only seen him walking or riding a pushbike, which I didn’t see out the front today, which meant he must’ve walked to work. “Will you walk or ride your bike to the market?”

“Yeah, I’ll ride. It’s not far. I wear a backpack to carry stuff, so it’s no big deal.”

“Did you want a lift? What time do you finish up here?”

“Oh, not for another hour.” He hesitated. “It’s fine, thanks anyway.”

“By the time I get home and showered, grab my menu planner, it’ll be an hour. Believe me, my arms will be so sore it’ll take me twenty minutes to put socks on. And I literally drive past the gym on my way.”

He fought a smile. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then that’d be great.”

“Okay, I’ll be back in an hour. I’ll just wait out front.”

His smile was warm and wide. “Sure thing.”

An hour later, at ten o’clock exactly, I pulled back into the gym car park, and whether or not he was watching for me, I had no clue, but Reed walked out with a gym bag in his hand.

He smiled as he opened the door and got into the front seat.

He slid in easily, despite his size, and again I was reminded of his fridge-like frame as he filled his half of the front of my sports car.

“Thanks again for doing this,” he said, stuffing his bag under his feet. “And when we get to the markets, we might wanna put my gym bag in the boot. I mean, there’s nothing disgusting in there, but no gym bag smells great.”

I pulled the car back onto the road into the always-steady stream of traffic. “No problem. Actually, thank you for reminding me about the markets. I’ve always been meaning to go but just never got there.”

“They’re really good. Well, I think so,” he amended. “I love fresh produce and getting inspired to try new things.”

“Me too!” I said. I stopped at a red light and grabbed my menu planner from the centre console and handed it to him. “Here, have a look through that. There’s an app on my phone for it as well, so I can download new recipes and whatnot. I just printed this week’s plan to bring with me.”

“Oh, this looks good,” he said, nodding to the first page. “You could do this one vegetarian as well.”

I squinted at him. “Well, I could.”

Reed laughed. “Like your meat, I take it.”

“I’m gay, so yes. In all forms.” The tips of his ears turned pink as he smiled, so I apologised. “Sorry. No filter, remember.”

“It’s all good. Don’t apologise.” He looked out over the water as we crossed the Iron Cove Bridge. “Your friends and family must be used to you and your lack of filter.”

“Uh, yes.”

“And the people you work with?”

“Actually, no. Only my personal assistant, Melinda, is. She’s used to me. But no one else.” I sighed. “I don’t talk to anyone else, really.”

“At all?”

“Not if I can avoid it. ”

“You choose not to talk to them?” Reed frowned. “Is that a management thing? Because you don’t seem the type to snob your co-workers based on pay rate.”

That made me snort. “Oh God no! It’s not a pay rate thing.

It’s a ‘me being a filterless idiot’ thing.

” I pulled into a parking spot at the markets and turned off the engine.

“When I first started there, Gr―” I stopped short of saying his name.

“I mean Sauron suggested I not talk to people up front. You know, wait until they got to know me and liked me before they heard some of the things that come out of my mouth.”