Page 35 of Christmas with my Three Best Friends

13

Marius

It’s been hours since Shay and I spoke. Hours since Vincent had the audacity to try and come back into her life. I know what he’s doing and how he intends to pull it off, but I can’t get involved. If Shay wants to be with us, it needs to be her decision all the way through. I can’t intervene; otherwise it’ll feel like I pulled when she wanted to tug. It will lead to resentments and bitterness in the future. My previous relationships have taught me that much.

Even so, the prospective heartache hovers over my head like a looming shadow. A quiet promise of sleepless nights and misery as I try to imagine my life without Shay in it. It took us forever and one massive chunk of dumb luck for us to get closer in the first place. The balance we have is still a fragile and fickle thing, easy to break and to lose because there’s four of us in this relationship. Four of us constantly lying to ourselves that it’s strictly physical. That none of us want more, and that it would never work out in the long term.

Yet I can see it in Shay’s eyes. And Jax’s and Richard’s, too. We all want more and need more from this dynamic of ours. Vincent popping up like a sore pimple feels like the universe’s way of telling us it’s not going to be easy. I struggle with doubts of my own, despite my heart and my body constantly screaming for Shay. It’s unusual for us to go six hours in the same space without talking or at least cracking a joke. Something is definitely happening here, something none of us planned yet is something we will all have to contend with. Jax and Richard know about Vincent’s return. I made sure they knew as soon as Shay went back to her office. Neither is happy about it. So, that makes four of us.

I stare at Shay for a while. My clients are busy on the leg machines. One of them is counting reps on the leg press while the other is struggling with weighted Bulgarian split squats. Oddly enough, both are young males, yet Shay pushes and lifts better than them. I make a habit of teasing them on the matter, but I can’t even joke anymore—not as I watch her alternate between running and active walking at a higher angle on the treadmill. I can tell she’s not herself. Her shoulders are tight and her steps seem heavy. Her mind isn’t fully into the exercise, but she does her best to finish her forty minutes like this.

“Keep going, Phil,” I tell my client as he struggles with an added weight to his leg press. “You did way more last week and didn’t bat an eye.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t do it with a hangover,” he replies.

“Hey, I didn’t force you to go out last night and chug all those beers,” I shoot back with a cold grin.

Phil is in his early forties and zigzagging through a midlife crisis that recently culminated with a messy divorce, but he is eager to do more for himself—for his vanity and his health. Yet there are moments when he gives into his older habits due to peer pressure, and I always make sure to remind him there’s a price to pay. I never tell him not to drink or enjoy something that gives him joy and comfort, but I often advise on moderation, especially before training day. At least he takes it like a man and pushes through with his set on the leg press, beads of sweat covering his reddened face.

“Well done!” I tell him, then turn my attention to Dave, my other client. He’s almost twenty-five and wiry, a late bloomer still struggling to build his muscle mass. “How many reps did you do this time?”

“Fifteen,” he says.

“Good. Keep going on the next set but try to bend that knee more. You need a deeper drop,” I reply.

Dave looks at me as if I just told him to hit himself in the nuts with the dumbbell he’s squatting with. “Dude, my knees are killing me…”

“And that’s why a hip-and-ankle-mobility warm-up routine is essential,” I reply bluntly.

He knows I’m right and he knows I don’t make a habit of forcing my clients to do something they don’t want to do. Nevertheless, I still enjoy yanking his chain whenever I get the chance.

Movement by the door has me turning my head. My heart stops for a moment.

Roxanne walks in wearing tight pink shorts and a matching top. Petite but exceptionally fit, her black hair is pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head and her piercing brown eyes scan the gym room until they find me. Almost instantly, I’m hit by the intensity of her glare, the weight of her unexpected presence knocking the air out of my lungs.

“What is this, Exes Day?” I mutter to myself.

I steal a glance at Shay, content to see her still on the treadmill and in the middle of an uphill sprint. I only hope she doesn’t notice Roxanne anytime soon. It’s not like I can send the woman away, though I didn’t think she’d come back after the uncomfortable separation we went through in October.

“Hey, Marius,” Roxanne says with a warm smile.

I can certainly remember what drew me to her. She was like a sweet wine—easy to drink but gave me a horrible hangover. Nothing came easy with her. I tried so hard to please her, I damn near isolated myself from everybody purely for the sake of managing her jealousy… only for it to blow up in my face. She walked out on me so many times, I’m genuinely surprised to see her walking toward me now.

“I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Only a few months,” I reply politely, fully aware that some of those present in the gym know precisely who Roxanne is. They witnessed one of her jealous fits. I still shudder as I remember that evening and entire episode. I should’ve closed the door then, but I was dumb enough to let her back in a couple of weeks later. “How’ve you been, Roxanne?”

“Oh, it’s been a bit of a rollercoaster,” she says, laughing lightly and taking another step forward. The distance between us is getting smaller, and I don’t like it. I don’t want Shay to see her taking up so much space. “I went to therapy. Resolved many of my issues… I know I was a handful, Marius, but I’ve grown.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“In fact, I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to apologize for my behavior,” Roxanne says. “I was so insecure about myself that I took it out on you, over and over until I pushed you into another woman’s arms…”

I shake my head and cross my arms, if only to give her a subtle idea not to take another step toward me. “You didn’t push me into anyone else’s arms, Roxanne. I simply decided it was time for things to end between us. It was better and healthier.”

“So you’re not seeing anybody?” she lights up.

“I didn’t say that.”

---