Page 98 of True Sight
“I asked you here, it would have been rude to bail,” I half question, half scoff. While the gym isn’t my ideal place to hangout, I think that exercising will be an easy distraction from the conversation I’m here to have. Even if it means I actually have to exercise in the process.
“Well I’m glad you’re here, come on, I already told them you’re with me.” He turns on his heels and heads deeper into the warehouse that is lined with machines and other contraptions that people somehow use to build muscle mass. I’ve worked out with Hank before and couldn’t walk for a week afterwards so I never asked for a round two. “I have us set up over here.”
I walk to the metal rack he points to and stuff my hands into my sweatshirt pocket, unsure of what to do. Sensing my discomfort, he explains our workout and sets the bar up with less weight than I know he can probably handle, a kind gesture that my ego appreciates. After leading us through a few warm up moves, he dips under it to show me what to do and starts to squat with the metal rack across the back of his shoulders.
“So, how are things?” I open, trying not to get into the deep shit too quickly. The last thing I need is for him to get suspicious. He blows out a hard breath and stands up, latching the bar into place.
“Things are fine,” he replies skeptically. He’s looking at me through squinted eyes and I know he can tell I’m here with ulterior motives.
“Good, that’s good.” I try to keep my voice even. “And how’s Bailey?” I step under the bar like he had and start to squat the weights he’d set up. Doing so feels much harderfor me than it looked like it was for him.Maybe I should workout more.
“She’s fine too.” He drags out the words. His head bobs up and down as he watches me struggle through my set.
Once I finish my final squat, I push the bar back up and lock it into place. “Good, that’s good.”
The exchange is awkward at best and I know I’m completely fucking this up. I just need to ask him what I came here to ask and get it over with.
“Conrad,” Hank starts brusquely. “Not that I don’t love spending alone time with you, but why do I get the sense that there’s something you want to ask me?”
Leave it to my best friend to cut right to the chase. This is why I picked him for this. Unlike the other guys, Hank never beats around the bush and never makes you feel bad for what you say or do. I knew if I went to Kolbi about this he would give me some annoying proud older brother act and Malcolm was absolutely not an option. He wouldn’t be able to keep his snide remarks to himself even if the longevity of his sex life depended on it. But Hank? Hank is the one you can go to when you need to have a real conversation without the bullshit. He starts to squat as he waits for me to collect my courage.
“I was wondering when you knew you were in love with Bailey,” I say quickly and in my most ‘I’m here to learn and I’m definitely not speaking from personal experience’voice.
“Oh.” He sounds genuinely surprised by my question and stands tall again, racking the weight. He furrows his brows as he thinks about it, hanging onto the bar with his hands while staring at the ground. “I guess I knew when I realized she didn’t care that I had my own shit I was dealing with. And when the thought of not having her in my life scared me more than the idea of being in love with her did.”
I feel my own eyebrows meet in the center of my face as I think about it. “Did you ever doubt that you were in love with her?”
“Doubt it? Never. I knew pretty early on that I was in love with her but she made it easy to know that I was.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for starters, I always felt better when she was around. Like everything was okay and just, better. I don’t know how else to describe it.” He shrugs his shoulders like it’s the most obvious thing. “I laughed more, I felt happier. I felt…complete. And whenever I thought about not having her in my life anymore, like those few days we weren’t speaking, I felt physically sick. It was like my body was going through withdrawal at the thought of not having her anymore.”
My brain tries to process what he’s saying as I struggle through another set of squats. That’s exactly how I feel when Henry is around—complete and like everything’s going to be okay. My heart settles, my shoulders relax, and I feel like I can breathe easily whenever he’s around. And I know what he means about feeling sick at the thought of not having her in his life because I feel the same way whenever I think about Henry not being in mine. A dull ache will begin in the back of my neck and slowly spread to every corner of my body the longer I think about losing him.
“Were you scared to tell her?” I grunt, pushing through my final squat and using the back of my hand to wipe the sweat off my forehead. My legs are already begging for mercy.
He chuckles to himself and I can see him recalling a memory. “I mean, I kind of let it slip after we hooked up in a closet but yeah, I was scared. She didn’t say it back right away either, which didn’t help my nerves.”
“She didn’t?” I don’t know this story and I’m surprised to hear his love confession mirrors mine so closely, minus the closet hookup.They fucking would.
He shakes his head. “Nope. Took her a week or two to say it back but when she did, I didn’t even care that she took the extra time to make sure she was ready to say it. I knew I loved her and I was willing to give her the time she needed to feel the same way.”
I nod slowly, realizing that maybe I haven’t completely screwed things up with Henry afterall. I mean, if Hank and Bailey are my litmus test for love, he and I will be married in a year. I step out of the way so he can do another set and think about everything Henry and I have been through.
Our first run in at the coffee shop. Working together to open the studio and make his dream a reality. Countless Tuesday work meetings. Baring my nightmares and waiting for me to figure out the type of person I am. The longer I think about him, about us, the clearer my head becomes. I watch as my friend finishes his set, ready to come clean about why I’m asking him the questions I am. Ready to tell him about Henry and the last several months I’ve shared with him in secret. I want my friends to know about who I really am and more importantly, I want them to know about the person who helped me become that person. My mouth opens, words on the cusp of my tongue, ready to confess it all in the midst of grunting men and sweaty bodies, when he speaks first.
“So you’re in love with Margaret, huh?” And as he stands smirking at me, I can feel my courage to share myself and my love for Henry begin to disappear.
38
HENRY
“And bring it, down, low,” I call out like a metronome following the beat of the music. Alex and I are midway through our ‘Real Strong Women’ class where the songs we play are some of music’s biggest females. Lady Gaga, Taylor Swift, Billie Ellish. A mix of weights and dancing—it’s one of my favorite classes to teach.
“Shake dat ass, hey! Shake dat ass, hey!” Alex turns to the camera to shake her ass and flaunt what she’s got, freestyling the dance at the end of the song. She bounced into the studio this morning, smiling wider than she has since I met her. The energy she’s exuding is magnetic and makes class that much better.
“Oh my god, you’re a hot mess today.” I wave a hand and smile at her before checking the chat in our virtual classroom. People are raving about how much fun they are having while they work out and how happy we seem today.
