Page 165 of Gym Bros
“Look, I’ve been basically starving myself, and it’s wagyu. That’s nice, right?”
He shakes his head and continues to study the menu. His phone rings, and he glances at it. His shoulders drop two inches. I hadn’t realized they were so tense. He hands me the phone. “It’s your mother. Talk to her. I’m going to the men’s room.”
“I—okay.”
I answer his phone. “Hi, Mom.”
“Sam? You’re okay?”
“Unscathed,” I tell her.
“Oh, that’s a relief. Your father said he’d call when it was over, but I guess he got caught up. You’re with him, I’m assuming?”
“Yeah, he’s in the bathroom. We’re at dinner.”
“Wonderful. Well, was it everything you hoped for?”
“It was a little quick, honestly, but a solid win.”
“I’m very relieved. Well, I’ll let you enjoy your dinner, but tellMarcus to call me, will you? I have some questions about his schedule for next week.”
“Will do.”
“Congratulations, bud. I love you. I’ll call soon about Thanksgiving.”
“Okay, and thanks, Mom. Love you, too.” As I end the call, a text appears at the top of the screen. From Calyx.
I click it automatically, not really thinking about whose phone I’m holding, and not remembering it’s my dad’s until the text screen appears in dark mode. I don’t use dark mode.
But I’m already here, and I’ve already read the message.
It’s not much. It’sThanks, talk to you soon.
And the message before it—from my father saysthen I’m happy for you, too
It’s a response to Calyx saying,I know this is weird, but I’m really happy.
My dad sits back down, and I hand him his phone with the screen open on the text thread. He looks down at it and swallows hard before looking at me again.
I frown.
He clears his throat. “Let me explain.”
I don’t know what clicks, but it really fucking clicks. Being completely honest, the texts themselves didn’t raise a single red flag, but the look on his face when he noticed I saw them has at least a dozen waving wildly.
Suddenly, it’s like I’ve been waiting for this moment for years, and now that it’s here, I want no part of it. Time slows to a crawl as I stare at my father.
I’ve never seen a look like that on his face, and he’s nevereveroffered to explain himself to me.
“Are you sleeping with him?” I ask lightly, going for the most unlikely—the most incendiary question first to get it out of the way—to put my jealous and possessive thoughts in thebackseat so I can tell him to stop hounding Calyx to get back to work.
“No,” he whispers, the word strangling itself in his throat.
I don’t like the way he says it, so I try again, unsatisfied with the denial. I need something firmer. More convincing to put my rising paranoia to rest. “I mean, I know you’re not sleeping with himnowbecause I’ve been fucking him almost every night for two months, but were you sleeping with him before that?”
He looks like he might throw up. His face is definitely paler than it was a second ago.
He doesn’t even have to say it, but he does, declining to make eye contact with me. “It only happened a handful of times.”
