Page 3 of Unstoppable You

“Yeah, if that’s okay?” I said.

“Of course,” Larison said, squeezing my hand.

They refused to let me pay and I caught Jo whispering in Larison’s ear. I bet they’d dropped their daughter Juniper off with Larison’s moms for the night, so they were free to get frisky. Good for them. At least someone was getting laid.

If I was honest with myself, I couldn’t remember the last time Connor and I had had sex. It had been a while.

Fuck, I didn’t want to think any more about Connor. He’d wasted too many of my years already.

I sighed in the backseat as Larison drove me to my apartment and dropped me off. Dragging myself upstairs, I paused for a second after I unlocked the door. Every time I came home, I’d get hit with a wave of nausea that made it hard to stay standing.

We’d moved into this apartment together. Well, I’d directed the movers to bring things in and Connor had immediately sat on the couch and started gaming on his device. But I’d done my best to make it our place and now all I could see when I walked through the door were the holes. The empty places.

Connor’s butt print that had permanently altered the shape of the couch.

“I need a new couch,” I said once I’d managed to stop myself from throwing up. No one answered me because I lived alone now.

I hated it. Absolutely hated it.

“Fuck,” I said, wiping away tears and leaning back against the door.

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since my entire world changed.

“I hate this,” I said to no one.

There was no one here to listen.

* * *

Somehow I gotmy ass out of bed the next day instead of rotting for an entire Sunday. I should be doing work for my screen-printing business, or cleaning, or meal prepping for the coming week, or a million other things. Instead I made triple chocolate chip pancakes and ate them in bed in my pajamas, licking the plate when I was done.

I puttered around, trying to get things cleaned up, but I gave up and decided to leave the house and go to Pilates. Maybe some endorphins would help. It was worth a shot.

The gym wasn’t far from my place, so I walked with my mat slung over my shoulder. The air had just the slightest chill to it, broadcasting that fall was on the way. My favorite season, normally. Something told me that not even stepping on crunchy leaves and giving out candy on Halloween was going to cheer me up this year.

Keeping a smile on my face, I checked in at the desk and went to the locker room before bringing my mat, water, and towel to the Pilates room.

The class was absolutely packed for a Sunday afternoon, which was normally fine with me, but I would have enjoyed some more space around my mat.

There were a few familiar faces, but I avoided them so I didn’t have to make small talk or endure their knowing glances and questions. While I did live in a city, it was a small one, and a lot of people knew me from Between the Sheets or high school. In fact, I’d known about this class because of one of our book club members, Devyn, our fearless leader. She always managed to put together a class that gave you the best bang for your buck and left you wanting to curse her name.

Shaking and sweating and cursing was exactly what I needed today, I hoped.

There was an empty space in front of me and I hoped it would stay that way so I could have a good view out the window, but of course right before class started, someone laid their mat down.

My luck had been absolutely shitty lately.

Determined to make the most of the class anyway, I gave Devyn all my attention as she started us with a warm-up.

By the time we were even halfway through the class, I was ready to cry. All of my muscles shook and sweat poured down my chest as I tried to remember how to function.

Why did I do this to myself? I wasn’t having fun. I wasn’t enjoying myself. The music was good, and that was about it.

“And hold it for five, four, threeeeee, twooooo…and one!” Devyn always drew out that countdown from five and I gave her a dirty look that she ignored. I didn’t think I was the only one.

I made it through the class, ending it slumped on my mat like a wrung-out dishrag. How the hell was I supposed to get home? My legs weren’t in working order anymore.

“Fuck me,” I said softly to myself.

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