Page 3 of Vitamin Sea

She was almost in disbelief that she had let herself go that badly since the breakup. Although, in all fairness, she figured that it’s hard to gauge your size when you live in sweatpants and pajamas.

Yoga had never been one of her favourite forms of fitness, and she had agreed to go only because she knew Lala would have made good on her threat.

So, it was somewhat of a surprise to find that the class had done something for her.

Whether it was the sweat, the stretching, the remnants from last night’s poor choices, or just being out in public, Chloe felt a bit better afterwards.

A weight hadn’t necessarily lifted. But something in her had definitely shifted. For that, she was grateful.

“I told you!” Lala beamed after Chloe confided in her. They had stopped in at Starbucks after class. Not the one on King Street—Chloe wasn’t ready to face that barista yet.

“I knew if you got out of your condo and did something productive you would feel better."

◆◆◆

In the following weeks, she made several strides with the encouragement and accompaniment of her friend.

Gone were the sweatpants, unwashed hair, and tear-streaked complexion. Not that she didn’t still cry herself to sleep some nights. She just made it a rule to put on a few swipes of mascara when she first woke up and kept herself occupied morning, noon, and night.

Podcasts kept her company when she woke up; work—entirely from home—kept her busy during the day; and in the evenings, she filled her social schedule with outings and exercise.

Plastering on a smile and feigning happiness was hard at first, but as time wore on, she found she was no longer faking. She found genuine joy in small talk, in seeing a happy dog trot by her in the street. Contentment came from a latte at her favourite shop and a bubble bath with a good book.

Her gym—the place she hadn’t seen the inside of for one entire quarter—welcomed her back with open arms and she had taken to the treadmill to work out her frustration. Any time she felt a spiral coming on, she laced up her shoes and went running.

“I threw up at the gym,” Chloe, mortified, confessed to her friend.

She had pushed herself extra hard on the treadmill that session, but it wasn’t in an effort to beat her personal best. It was because she thought she had spotted Liam in line at the Mos Mos coffee shop that morning.

The jolt that went through her when she set eyes on the man, who was not, in fact, Liam, alerted her to the fact that she was definitely not over her ex.

A whole host of negative emotions had bubbled up inside, and she channeled those feelings into her workout.

Apparently, she had overdone it. Although, when she thought about it, she figured it could potentially serve as a very useful form of negative reinforcement.

If every time she thought of Liam she pushed herself to the limit at the gym, at some point she would associate him with throwing up.

If she was really lucky, at some point, the mere mention of his name might induce her to gag.

“Hell, yes, you did!” Lala clapped at her friend’s confession.

Chloe was appalled.

“You’re applauding this?”

“No,” Lala shook her head. “I’m applauding the effort you’re putting in.

You’re working out, combing your hair, washing your hair, and being social.

A few weeks ago, your place looked like it was inhabited by hoarders and the only thing you were motivated by was wine.

Now, you’re leaving your condo all on your own.

I don’t even have to threaten you anymore,” she added brightly.

Chloe could see her point. She really had come a long way. She reflected on the several months she had spent wallowing. It added up to more than one quarter of a year.

It was crazy what a bad breakup could do to a person.

◆◆◆

“You look so much better, honey.” Chloe’s mom opened the fridge and put away a carton of milk.

It had been six weeks since Lala had staged her intervention and Chloe was sipping coffee in her parents’ kitchen, watching her mom put away a bag of groceries. Her dad was away fishing.

“Thanks.” Chloe was sincere. “I’ve been working out and eating better. I’m starting to fit back into my old clothes.” She traced her finger around the rim of her mug.

“Oh, well, I didn’t mean that,” her mom said, pulling an avocado out of a cloth bag. “I mean your spirit. You have a human spark in you now. You look alive.”

Shades of Frankenstein aside, Chloe didn’t know how to respond to that and scrunched her mouth to the side. She supposed she had been in some bizarre kind of walking-dead limbo the last few months. She had been alive. Technically, at least.

“Speaking of—now that you’re back in the land of the living, have you thought about going on a date?” her mom continued. “It’s been nearly five months. And you know what they say—the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else! Or someones!”

Chloe choked on her coffee and began to splutter.

“Oh my god, Mom!”

Was her mother really suggesting a wild run of no-strings-attached promiscuity? It appeared that yes—yes she was.

Her mom put the last of the groceries away, arranging green apples into the porcelain bowl on the island before plopping down in the seat beside her daughter.

“I mean, really, Chloe. I don’t know how you’ve even managed to keep your job these past five months,” she said bluntly.

Truthfully, Chloe didn’t know how she’d managed to keep her job either.

Being given the nod to work from home was a godsend.

Getting by on the bare minimum, delegating tasks to her assistants, and begging off work events due to ‘sickness’; it was a miracle that her boss at Strut hadn’t canned her.

What kind of travel editor wouldn’t even travel outside of her home?

“I know, Mom,” she said. “But I’m making an effort now. I love my job, and I definitely don’t want to lose it. I’ve just been so depressed that I didn’t care about anything. Not work, not life, not friends, not family—” she paused.

“Not hygiene,” her mom prompted helpfully.

Chloe looked at her, eyebrows drawn and shaking her head. “Thank you, very helpful.”

“Well, darling, I call it like I see it,” she shrugged.

Chloe sighed.