Page 96 of Bewitch

I scowl. “Why do you think I want to quit?”

“I just meant for today,” he says gently. “You’re rather distracted.”

“And you don’t want me to get hurt. I get that. I just… I’ll just do the rest of my workout alone.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod. At a moment, Craig walks away.

Not everyone who comes here uses a trainer. Some are self-motivated enough to not need one on top of their knowledge of weightlifting. I know there’s more for me to learn yet. I’m not ready to fly solo yet.

Maybe not ever. I need motivation that comes from outside of me. I’ve tried this before, all alone, and I always end up right back where I started.

Yes, I’ve come far in the time I’ve been training under Lucas. He’s left a mark on me. Even though I’ve not always followed his die or any diet at all, I still have become so much stronger.

But that doesn’t mean I want to go it alone. I don’t. I want him to be there with me still. I want him to be in my life.

I royally fucked things up for the both of us, and now, maybe it’s done. Things will never be as they were.

I stare down at my hand and curl it slightly, not into a tight fist, just to mimic how my fingers had bent when I held his cock in my hand. I could’ve forgiven him for the names he called me, for his trying to get me to quit. If I had been the bigger person…

But then he might have called new clients those same names. I’m sure he’s gotten people to quit before even if he didn’t necessarily men for them to follow through. he needs the money.

Right now, my mom’s card is what’s paying Lucas, but even if he won’t train me anymore, I’ll still pay him. Once I get a job, it’ll be my money that goes to him, not my mom’s.

Right or wrong, he did train me. He did what he was paid to do.

Sorrow. Lost. That’s how I feel, but not for much longer. A hot emotion races through me as I glare at the Olympic bar.

Anger.

And I funnel that anger to be able to use the bar for chest press and then I use it for squats and lunges. I don’t like how the bar feels against the top of my back, but I’m able to squat and lunge far easier with the bar than I can chest press. In fact…

I put five pounds on either side of the bar and opt to squat. The mirror is behind me so I can’t check my form, but I think I’m going to parallel, that my thighs are parallel to the ground. Once I do six moves, I rack the bar and add another five on each side.

In total, I’m able to do fifteen pounds extra on either side of the bar. A thrill races through me. I only did that rep once, but that’s my personal best. Wouldn’t it be crazy if I could work up to my weight in chest press on day? To work up to twice my weight in squats and lunges? The bar is where it’s at if you want to lift heavy.

And that’s how you change your body, how you reshape it. You have to push yourself out of your comfort zone as if you’re skydiving. You need to be all you can be.

And that’s when you can soar.

Or sink.

But I’m going to soar. I’ll rise above any and all obstacles in my way.

Including myself.

I’ll become the person I was always meant to be. I’ll find a way for the inside and the outside to match.

It’s not that I have or had a skinny person inside of my fat body. I’m more than that. I have my own issues. Everyone does, and I’m going to try to help others with their demons.

Sure, I love to bake, but I’m not a baker. It’s a hobby. What I want to do is to try to push others to stand up for themselves.

Nothing will dissuade me from becoming an investigative reporter. I’ll get to the bottom of the Carl Fetto story. Whatever the truth is, whatever his motives are, I’ll find them.

As for me and Lucas… when he’s ready, he’ll come back, and then we can sort through our feelings and be mature and respectful, and maybe we’ll one day look back and laugh.

Or maybe we’ll go our separate ways.

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